Die Hard Three

Thought of the day: why has no one invented a standing car? I’d rent one. After 14 hours we finally arrived at our destination (NYC) and I think I’m paralysed. My driving foot is going to have to be amputated, I can feel it. Or to be more accurate, I can’t. I’m going to wait until I get back to Canada to have the procedure. The health care system here in the US doesn’t even cover the locals – I can only imagine what happens to the foreigners who fall ill.

Thursday’s drive is going to be super-easy compared to these last two days. New Haven to Ottawa – 700 km. Should go by like nothing. Before leaving Ottawa I picked up an audio book from the Ottawa Public Libary. I’m thinking this was a good idea – I find the topic engrossing and it should be able to keep me awake for the arduous journey.

For those of you who are curious, Round and Round: A Complete History of Windmills by Joseph J. Handson is the literary opposite of a sleeping pill.

On a unrelated related note, during one of our fuel stops, Clara found the worst bathroom she’s ever seen in her 28 years. I asked her if she took a picture for the blog. She told me she did not. Damn. Sorry about that. Now my readers will be forced to suffer this image of our third passenger.

I wish I could have slept for most of the drive.

Ugh. I’ve started on another trip before I finished the final article of my previous adventure. Writing a travel post post-travel is very difficult. Anyone who’s tried knows exactly what I’m talking about. The likelihood of a given article about a specific event actually getting written decreases the more time passes. But don’t worry – the final instalment of my camping adventure is on its way (not to spoil anything but it’s all about your (my) favourite topic: toilets – or whatever the Algonquin Park equivalent is (I call them shitboxes)).

I would have had all the camping posts done except I didn’t bring my computer with me to the Park (mostly because I didn’t want to damage it but mostly because I didn’t want Steve to murder me). I’d offer an apology but posting out of sequence bothers me more than it does you so technically you should be apologizing to moi.

Okay. Chicago.

I have a friend who does not have a drivers license and she needs to move a carload of all her worldly possessions from the Windy City to Connecticut. I’m too tired to describe the driving so just click on the link. I’m donating my time and she’s going to cover the cost of car rental and fuel.

The first leg of the journey took me a little over 11.5 hours – almost exactly what the Google said it would. I was a little worried I’d be getting into the city around dark but then I remembered the time travel – the extra hour was nice.

During the drive I saw a whole bunch of really interesting things. I’ve forgotten all of them so you’ll just have to make do with my current situation.

Goddamn. Americans are friendly. And they make good beer. I found this bar without even trying and I’m so comfortable I think I’m going to die.

Bartender asks if I want another. I decline, explaining I have to drive 1,400 kilometres the next day. After hearing this he then brings me a complimentary beer. I’m left wondering if he knows what a kilometre is.

But I can’t stay up too late. I’ve got to be up at oh-five hundred to get a start on the second leg of this trip. And speaking of trip – you guys can help. The big decision for tomorrow is this: Do we

1. just say “fuq it” and drive all the entire 1,400 KM to Connecticut on Wednesday? or
2. stay at my friend’s Manhattan apartment and increase my Thursday driving?

Note: Costs are about the same (parking vs. hotel). The minor decision is: Do we

1. take a 45-minute detour into Cleveland to visit the statue of Moses Cleveland (he’s the guy who invented Cleveland)
2. not do 1.

Note: Costs are an additional 45 minutes to our 13-hourish drive.

My travel companion thinks we are going to discuss this tomorrow. But little does she know that the Internet is going to decide our fate (or at least the two people who make it to the end of this post).

Please leave your votes in the comments.

This past weekend was such a positive experience it has convinced me that everyone should go camping. But not at the same time of course because that would be ridiculous. With people away from their homes our cities would be completely empty and a master criminal would be free to execute the prefect diamond heist or prison break because there would be no one there to sound the alarm. And even if the alarm did get sounded, the call would go unanswered until Tuesday morning when the security guard got back to work.

But by then it’s too late: the goods are on a ship to South America to pay off some old gambling debts owed to Baron Von Loma.

But enough about the reasons to not go camping, in today’s post I am going to list for you a bunch of reasons why you should go. And one why you might not want to.

Reason the first: the morning view. You may not realize it but waking up and looking in a mirror first thing every morning is destroying your soul. It is for me anyway. And if you can’t look in a mirror (because there are none in Algonquin Park), then you get to look at this:

It’s like drinking your morning Red Bull but without the heart palpitations.

Reason the second: in the non-camping world people spend way too much money on food. When you’re going on a trip that has actual packing constraints (like weight and size) you are forced to purchase only what you need. The food budget for the six members of Team Normal was just under $200.00 – that’s $4.76 per person per meal. And we ate like kings. You saw those sausages from yesterday’s post? Here’s another pic in case you missed it.

From this photo it appears that my sausage almost came into contact with the sausage of one of the other campers. BTW, this is one is the aforementioned “camping cons”.

Reason the third: humans waste way too much food unnecessarily. You know how when you’re at home and a piece of bread falls on the ground and you have no choice but to throw it away or give it to your older brother for his sandwich? Well when you’re camping and something gets dirty, you can’t just walk over to Ayoub’s to buy a replacement because Ayoub’s is 240 km away. So what ends up happening is that your food-cleanliness tolerance drops considerably. Want proof? Check out our margarine. It was like this before we even set out in the canoes on the first day. No one cared or got sick.

They just wanted their sweet, sweet margarine.

And finally, reason the fourth: camping is good for your physical well being. Until this past weekend I hadn’t gotten any exercise since high school. And now look at me after just a single day of canoeing. The old me only had the strength to lift fork-sized portions of food. Now I’m strong enough to carry an entire meal.

And if we’d stayed out there a few days longer I wouldn’t need to have my groceries delivered anymore.

One does not simply walk into Algonquin Park. Actually you can, but it’s really big. And far away. It could take days or even months to reach your destination. Also you have to get a permit. And make a campground reservation. And pay an administration fee. In fact, there are a surprising number of rules that campers have to abide by while in the Park. Based on the experience from this latest trip some were easy to follow, while others… not so much.

One of the easy ones was the no alcohol in the interior rule. Beers, wines, and mixed drinks are heavy and with all the portages* it made absolutely no sense to bring a dozen Molson Canadian tall boys that would be warm anyway.

Another was the campfire rule. To prevent forest fires, campers are only allowed to make open fires in the designated fire pit. It was a good thing I had my lighter with me as Steve’s waterproof matches turned out to also be fireproof.

What is this? A fire for ants!?!

One of the not-so-easy-to-follow rules was the one requiring all campers to respect the wildlife. In the Park, interaction with any living thing that is not an insect is strictly forbidden. Snakes are not to be picked up no matter how freaked out the girls would be. The bear cubs in all their cuteness are are not to be hugged. The crayfish with their massive claws are not to be pitted in gladiator-style battles against each other. Even the plants are off limits – if you want firewood, you have to go find some dead trees and chop them up. If you’re hungry you can’t pic any of the berries.

These delicious specimens remained uneaten.

Of all the rules, this plant one affected me the most. The Food Committee (of which I was a member) planned a wonderful meal of campfire-cooked sausages for our first night’s supper. Everyone knows that when roasting wieners over an open fire you need to put them on a stick. Well to save on weight, I just figured we’d use some wood from around the campsite. Well after an hour of searching everyone was getting pretty hungry and each of us had to make do with what we could find.

I have to go talk to that Ollivander. The wand chooses the wizard? My ass it does.

Whatever. The sausages were pre-cooked so even if they were not nice and hot they were still safe to eat. I’ve learned my lesson. Next time I’m going to bring my own skewers from home.

* A portage is when you take all your gear and canoes and you walk around the parts of the river that are too dangerous to float through. The ones on this trip ranged in distance from 275-900 metres.

Everyone was told to bring proper footgear.

I think one member of our team is confused about what whitewater canoe portage danger bear camping entails.

Last post before going into the Park.

I hope they sell undergarments at the outfitter store – we almost hit a deer on the drive up. Never been so scared in my entire life… except that one time.

The trip is not going well. Three of our campers are not speaking to each other and everyone is pissed at my music selection for the car ride. And we haven’t even left Ottawa yet.

Whatever. I maintain that Kraftwerk’s earliest stuff is their best.

So Steve and I decided to organize a camping trip for some of our international friends most of whom have never spent a night outside of a metropolitan area. We’re heading to Algonquin Park for three days and two nights of whitewater canoe portage bear danger camping. Note: The updates will all be post-trip as the Internet is limited in the Park.

If you are curious as to where to start your missing person’s search, we put-in at Poplar Rapid, camp the first night near Crooked Chute, camp the second night near Fivemile Rapids, and exit at McManus Lake.

If you don’t hear from us by 23:58 Monday, contact Chad Everett. He’ll know what to do.

Oh, and by the way, you don’t contact Chad Everett. Chad Everett contacts you.