The quick story since we left Thunder Bay:
Drove to Wawa in a day. Trees, rocks, lakes, repeat. Wawa is depressed and depressing. Got some bad pizza there and stayed behind an Esso on a large truck parking lot. Price was right; slept well.
Next morning to Sault Ste. Marie. Got there at 9 or 10 am, parked the moho on a Flying J lot, took the car and went off. Pedaled bikes around the SSM waterfront, locks, etc. Took a boat tour of locks, chatted up various people on the boat, had fun. Went back to moho in late afternoon, drove another 150k and ended up in Blind River Ontario. Here we boondocked a second night, meaning we found somewhere free to park. In this case it was a rec center parking lot, blocks off the main road and right on the lake. Excellent.
When we rolled in, the lot was vacant save for an ancient camper on an ancient Datsun pickup. I parked and went to investigate. Turns out it was two 25 year old girls from France who thought it would be fun to motor from Montreal to Victoria. They were spending the night there because a) they were tech savvy and could find good places to park, and b) their vehicle, which they called Spacer, had gotten tired and wanted to stop. By tired, they meant it was having trouble maintaining 80 km.
“Your truck is dropping oil,” I said to them.
“Do you think it’s serious?” they asked. I guess they figured an old whitehaired guy should know stuff like that, so I got under to look. There was a moderate puddle of oil on the pavement, but the bottom of the pan was wet and they were down a litre.
“Not the best sign,” I said, not wanting to overstep. What I thought was, “ this thing ain’t gonna make another 100 k. Main seals, bearings, blah blah blah”
They seemed philosophical about it all. “We’re going to walk on the beach,” they said, so off they went, as did we after awhile. A magic place, if I could say. Right on Lake Huron.
They came back at dusk, and when they did, we invited them over to our comparatively grand residence for some vino. And what delightful young’uns they were. Animated, wide-eyed, living the dream. Flying on a wing and a prayer.
Turns out their Datsun was a 1979 model—44 years old. They got it on Marketplace from some guy who wanted it to go not just to anybody, but somebody who really loved it. A spiritual thing, I guess.
In the few weeks they’d owned it, they’d lost a wheel off the back. Not a big deal, they explained, because it’s a dually..each side has two wheels. Problem was, those wheels are long since obsolete, but they were lucky enough to find another Datsun of the same vintage at a wrecker’s, so they bought it and scavenged the wheels. They laughed a lot when they were recounting this, as they did when speculating about the fate of the motor. When I offered that West Jet flies out of Thunder Bay and that might be an option going forward, she quickly countered with thoughts of optimism. Gotta stay positive, or the French equivalent of that. I never asked what they’d spent so far.
We had a terrific time visiting these two. They were full of laughs, ridiculously optimistic, great fun. During the time we were talking, a coyote trotted past, and a cop stopped by too. He said we were fine where we were, and he gave the girls the name of a local mechanic who could speak French. Win win.
No philosophy, though. Didn’t seem like these two had that channel. Other than to offer that positivity is key. Great to be young. Great to buy a thumped old wreck in Montreal and point it at Vancouver. They’ll laugh about that for the rest of their lives.
So that was that. It was fun.
Right now we are in Providence Bay Manitoulin Island, close to the beach. Never been here before. Enchanting place. Even with all the smoke.
Hope your air is clear in Lotus Land. Remember not to throw your lit cigarettes in the grass.
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