THE EXPEDITION Chapter 21: Not Walking (Section One)

In which we hope the cold hitchhiker really did find the sleeping bag 

Date: August 12 2019

Prawda, Manitoba to Kenora, Ontario (100 km ride)

ONTARIO!

Almost immediately upon crossing into Ontario, I saw how impossible it would have been to try to walk it with our caravan. Thank goodness the trailer had broken, and while it was possible to find help, rather than out here.

We passed a hitchhiker going the opposite direction – my rescuer thought it was his cousin, but said he was going the wrong way and that he’d be picked up soon, so we didn’t stop. We did have a beautiful discussion about the planet, and her needs… and people.

Unpacking in Kenora, it turned out my sleeping bag had flown out of the back of the pickup truck. Looking at each other, we both recalled thinking we might’ve seen something just as we’d been passing the hitchhiker, but had been focused on him and not thought of that.

“He looked cold” my friend said.

“Good thing it fell out where it did” I answered.

The bike shop had just long enough before closing to check out the trailer and tell me they’d love to help, but it just wasn’t within the realm of stuff they could do. He gave me the name and number of a local autobody shop he figured could do it and suggested I call right away.

The owner of the autobody shop was intrigued; he got a full explanation, and requested emailed photos as well as the website and contact information of the company that makes the trailer, and gave me directions for how to find the place in the morning.

I found a coffee shop that would still be open a little later (Kenora shuts down early), and while sharing a sandwich with Mr Myrtle, found a couchsurfing place for us to spend a couple nights. I think it became three – I’d been keeping track of where we were when, but even if I hadn’t misplaced it for just long enough to get behind, I’d’ve lost track now anyways. It was so hard to keep up with doing the walk, while simultaneously planning it on the hoof (paw? wheel?), and posting about it, and keep notes… I’m so flipping grateful for the help I had, but yeah, the dates get a little vague from here on in.

August 13 to 15, 2019

Kenora

Jake lives out of town and up a very large hill (small mountain, really, I think), so he came and got us. He and his father built their beautiful forest home, and his mother created (and is still creating, ongoingly) the gardens. A tiny lake on the property is perfect for swimming and canoeing, and they’ve built a lovely dock.. I thought the water was pretty darn chilly, but got in long enough one day that Mr Myrtle decided to too, and he had a good bit of a swim before he decided to agree with me. He got so muddy getting out through the reeds, and rolling in loam to dry off, that I had to hose him off at the house.

The first morning, though, we turned up at the autobody shop. The owner had looked up more about the trailer, and pondered things. He’d come up with some ideas but called any of “the boys” who wanted to come to a meeting so he could hear their thoughts. Everyone came. These guys examined the whole thing thoroughly, discussed options, tried out mock-ups, and made a plan. One assigned himself to the job and was working on it before I realized the meeting was over.

Meanwhile, someone following the page who lived here had gotten in touch and offered to come pick me up to do anything I needed to do while the trailer was in the OR.

I found the owner to let him know I was going off in search of whatever it was I had on my list, and a sleeping bag, but I’d be quick.

“A sleeping bag?” he asked, “I’ve got one of those…” and he disappeared. I hadn’t even gotten to the part about having a ride and so, being quick, or left him my number!

I told the man working on the trailer, instead.

“Oh, yeah, he probably went to get a sleeping bag for you – he’s got all sorts of that stuff. He’ll be back, take your time, this’ll be ready when you get back.”

Ohmygoodness.

April and I went to Canadian Tire. That might’ve been where I hooked up with handlebar basket number four, but I’m not quite sure. We had a great visit though, I’m so happy to have met her! We also went to the chip truck. Kenora has, I kid you not, best chip truck ever. Honest to Pete. Plus, a bunch of local kids started the successful now multi-truck, business, and still run it. They’re really nice, and they make pretty special fries. April and I talked so much, and I’m glad we’re still in touch inline but we could have talked for hours more! Days, actually, I’m pretty sure.

Sometimes I wish there were so many of me… it’s like the choose our own adventure books. I figured out all the possible stories and read them all through to all the endings. I wish I could live that way. Some say we are each a facet of the universe experiencing itself, which makes sense to me, and if I look at individual life in similar sense, then each meeting is a facet and I’m blessed to touch so many facets and see so many possibilities.

The straightened and reinforced trailer hitch bar was waiting when I got back to the shop, along with a lovely warm sleeping bag. They wouldn’t even charge me, and I think they all signed the petition. I know I cried – there’s a lot of good things that just don’t fit into words.

Serendipitously, Jake happened to pass us just as we got to the foot of heir access road, and picked us up. We had a wonderful dinner upstairs in the main house with his father that night, and talked for ages. We talked about what I was doing, and other couchsurfers they’d had. I asked about their home-building stories, and Jake told me a bit about his winters at the Unist’ot’en Camp… I doff my hat so much to Jake and anyone able to help like that. He’s also involved in environmental work at home, and I went to a meeting of the local eco-group with him while there.

The next day, I was checking the road ahead on google maps, when a friend in the States talked a local bus company into taking me all the way to Dryden.

Canada has terrible public transportation. While every other country in the world has been sensibly and responsibly developing that kind of travel, here, where it is more necessary than most places, intercity and cross-country bus and train service has been gutted to the point of near nonexistence. It’s always been terribly important to government here to make sure people buy more personal vehicles and support the oil and gas industry as much as possible, regardless of the inefficiency of that, and regardless of cost to people and to the planet.

So it’s hard to get around, and if you find a way, tickets sell out fast.

Yet Lisa managed to get me a bus to Dryden. With everything. Gratis.

Jake brought us and all our everythings down to meet the bus at the McDonald’s parking lot pick-up spot in the morning. It turned out that they hadn’t been at all clear about the amount of stuff I had with me… it wouldn’t all fit in the bus. However, the bus the next morning would definitely have room. Someone somewhere even made sure the remaining space wouldn’t be otherwise spoken for. I was just happy they hadn’t told me to – literally – take a hike… to Dryden.

I turned the stacked pile back into a packed caravan and set about finding somewhere for the night. It wouldn’t make sense to go back up to Jake’s and come down here again early, so I called the nearby campground. The young woman I spoke to assured me there were spots galore and come on over. Her mother told me later she’d come in during the call, and as I hung up, her daughter exclaimed “Mom, I think that was that lady who’s walking to Ottawa!!!” They’d already signed the petition and knew all about me, and were tickled pink to have us there.

We had the bottom corner by the water all to ourselves. With the tent angled, it was almost like being on our own little island. We swam a little, and Mr Myrtle is most likely the only Jamaican puppy ever to have swum in Anishnaabe waters.

August 16, 2019

Kenora to Dryden (bus 138 km)

Getting back up the hill in the morning proved rough. Why on earth hadn’t I left things up there!? A kind soul intervened and helped haul, and I made it to the bus stop with time to de-caravan everything.

It all fit this time, but nobody had told the driver how much there was, and he was understandably not happy. Nonetheless, we made it to Dryden. I put the caravan back together and went in search of the local campground, which turned out to be just down the road. Actually, everything I needed was pretty nearby, which was good in case it took a while to put the next piece of the trip together.

August 17 to August 23, 2019

Northwestern Tent and Trailer Park, Dryden

Northwestern Tent and Trailer Park is a quiet place. It’s close to everything, but surrounded by trees and green and wetland, incredible sunsets, flocks of birds, and more perfect walks than you could ever finish taking. Maybe it’s partly because the Swiss couple who own it are so sweet. They’re tired, though, so if anyone wants a really great opportunity, there’s one right here. Besides being a beautiful place with good business, this place could even be set up to supply all its own power.

Meanwhile, they were kind to us, and we still keep in touch. We stayed over a week. I made signs and posted them everywhere I could, as well as posting on and perusing rideshare groups and pages. We made some friends, and some very kind people helped us in lovely ways… someone even brought Mr Myrtle lots of good kibble, along with some groceries, and a huge thing of blueberries they’d picked themselves.

Honestly, people just bowl me over. It’s beyond me why we believe this nonsense that we can’t do anything when we are surrounded every day by constant living proof of how flipping incredible, caring, and connected humans are.

Someone even saw my search and offered to take us to Thunder Bay.

#s

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