camping – Page 4 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

September 16 Audubon State Park, Kentucky and Evansville, Indiana

I walked in a hardwood forest today that measured up to my imaginations. One of my dreams for this trip was to experience the thick green life of a hardwood forest up close. I thought that would happen in Minnesota, or maybe New York, but instead it happened here in Kentucky, on the banks of the Ohio River. The John James Audubon State Park in Henderson has several hundred acres of climax hardwoods, some more than 200 years old. The major trees are beeches, sugar maples, basswood, several varieties of oaks, tuliptree, catalpa, huge sycamores, ash, elm, and the Kentucky coffeetree.There are 61 varieties of trees here, including some rare species.

The museum was built by the CCC, another incredibly fine example craftsmanship and art. It houses the greatest number of original Audubon paintings of any museum in the world. There are original intact copies of all four volumes of the Birds of America, published in 1837. What I didn’t know until today is that these books are nearly 3 feet tall, in order to represent the birds at life size. In addition to the art, the museum had artifacts of his life and the displays told the story of his life work, his children, his devoted wife, his connections with people in power in the early 19th century. It is a fascinating story. You cannot imagine the incredible detail and beauty of an original Audubon painting without seeing it.

When we pulled into the state park campground last night, we were a bit disappointed. It seemed too close to the highway, too open, and a bit tattered. I had seen the park on Google Earth and was expecting something different, I guess. The night was warm and humid and when we went for a walk the sounds of crickets and other bugs was almost deafening. We slept well, though, and this morning our explorations of the museum and the rest of this gorgeous state park, which includes hiking trails, two small lakes, and a golf course, more than made up for the deficiencies of the campground.

This afternoon was warm and humid again, but not at all uncomfortable, and we drove back across the Ohio River to Evansville, just a few minutes north of our camping location here in Kentucky. Evansville has a thriving historic district, and we drove the streets ooohing and aaahing at every corner as more and more huge old homes came into view. I did wonder just how many photos I could take of these houses, but they are irresistible. We ended the day with a long walk along the greenbelt, a beautiful parkway punctuated with art and walkways, memorials, and bronze plaques detailing the long storied history of this river town.

Lewis and Clark passed by here on their voyage to the Pacific Ocean, and John Wesley Powell rowed past this town when he paddled the full length of the Ohio River before he became a geology professor and then later explored the Colorado River. Hardwoods and history. Our days have been filled with both in a part of our country that I never have experienced before this trip.

We talked about our last cross country trip, and how different this seemed to be. Somehow that trip, while interesting and wonderful, didn’t pass through landscapes that were so new to us. Texas still felt like the West, and I had been in Florida so the south wasn’t completely new to me either. Somehow this world, all the way from Eastern North Dakota, through the north country of the UP, to these woods of Kentucky, somehow they feel brand new. These are landscapes I have read about in the history books, in Barbara Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer. I’m glad for the chance to follow this river, the heartstream of a huge part of our country.

The rest of the photos for this day are linked here.

September 10 back home to the States

The rest of the photos for this day of travels are here

The morning was cloudy and damp in Ontario and the day seemed gloomier yet with our need to find a place to repair the Tracker. Our plan was to cross the border, and then stop to see if we could find some kind of repair shop to check out the transmission. Without a phone or internet access, it’s so difficult to function reasonably. Garmin Girl proved so dependable taking us through complex freeway systems that we didn’t hesitate to try it again today. I drove the MoHo with Mo following behind in the Tracker while we set the address for some unknown place in West Seneca, New York.

The border crossing was uneventful, without even a request for our animal papers. Understandable in the MoHo perhaps because the cat was safely tucked away in his carrier. In the Tracker, though, Abby was clearly visible, and the agent didn’t say a word or ask for anything but passports. In a matter of minutes we were in Buffalo, on US soil, with miles again instead of kilometers. I pulled into a large parking lot in West Seneca, and Mo pulled in behind me. She hollered joyously when the Tracker slipped into neutral effortlessly. Who knows. But finally we could hook up the car again and be on our way through New York to our next destination.

The sweet little neighbors in Toronto told us about Watkins Glen, in the Finger Lakes District, and after reviewing the maps and checking mileage, we decided it was a much more relaxing destination than Blue Mountain Lake in the Adirondacks. Especially when we realized that we could actually stay two nights and have time to enjoy the trails and waterfalls. With my iPhone once again operational, I checked out campgrounds while Mo drove through the winding, gorgeous landscape of this part of New York. The hardwood forests are thick, lush, and green, with only a touch here and there of brilliant orange or red tips on the trees.

The KOA campground seemed the most likely choice from what I could see on the phone, and when I called they said they were nearly booked due to the Vintage Road Race being held today in Watkins Glen. She found a nook for us, though, and we took it. Expensive as heck, but it is Friday and we had no clue where we might land. The state park was our first choice, but it was also booked except for the dry camps that were first come first served. We opted for the KOA and shortly were settled in to a somewhat bumpy, marginal site near the pond. This KOA has an indoor swimming pool and spa which hopefully we will have time to try out tomorrow. The rest of the amenities aren’t that great, and our site doesn’t have sewer, cable hasn’t been installed out here yet, and the wireless internet connection is as slow as dialup. Ah well. We are camped and settled at least.

After reviewing the excellent brochures provided, we opted to spend the afternoon traveling towards Ithaca and the waterfalls and trails at the state parks in that area. I kept trying to remember why Ithaca was so familiar to me, but of course, Cornell University is there. And the Moosewood Restaurant, home of the vegetarian cookbooks that were my cooking bible back in the early 80’s. Geez.

By the time we were back on the road, the skies had cleared except for huge white puffy clouds punctuating the brilliant blue. Ahh. blue and white and green again. The tiny town of Watkins Glen, however, was completely off limits because of the races and the closing of the main streets in town. In dead stop bumper to bumper traffic, we asked the policeman how to get where we were going. The only route was nearly 50 miles out of the way. Pretty stupid for them not to have some kind of detour set up for travelers trying to get around in the area. Back to the iPhone which allows me to see the actual aerial photo and maps and try to come up with a route. The GPS has no idea about closings and routes and only wants an address. Once again, I sit in the passenger seat, two fisted navigating, phone in one hand, GPS in the other, and a map on my lap trying to get us through the crazy back roads to Taughannock State Park

Eventually we were successful, and the falls were delicate but lovely, and at 215 feet, the highest falls in the northeast. The trail around the rim of the canyon and the upper falls was well marked, fenced for safety from the extreme cliffs, and dog friendly. It was a great walk and felt good to be again in a place less populated than we have been recently.

After our hike, we were ready for supper, and I searched the reliable iPhone again for a good restaurant in Ithaca. There were dozens, but we decided on the BoatYard. The evening was cool, with a nice breeze, so we left Abby in the car with the windows a bit open to wait for us while we enjoyed our dinner. The restaurant was great, the service excellent, and we had steaks for the first time in a very long time, with a glass of California old vine zinfandel. Ahh, delightful! Until half way through dinner the hostess came looking for us to report that the police were waiting for us because someone had reported animal abuse because Abby was in the car. Mo stepped out to talk with them, and it was all OK, but it was definitely a bit disconcerting. Our relaxing, somewhat spendy dinner cut short, we packed up what was left and headed out to see Cornell University and the rest of Ithaca.

The town had seemed so peaceful, but once we entered the Collegetown area it became obvious just how big Ithaca really is, especially with all the students in town. It was crazy traffic, and students everywhere, steep, winding streets, and no clue as to where we were trying to go. Even with my two fisted navigation, it was a mess. After a quick look at the main part of Cornell, we wound our way back through town and south to try to find our little KOA home. Again, with the roads closed in Watkins Glen until after nine, I had to find an alternative. This time we routed some very back roads, and over a very steep hill we hooked up with 414 south, just a few miles north of the KOA.

Whew! Home! Out came the leftovers, and we settled in to our evening at home with plans for more waterfall hiking tomorrow.

September 8 Toronto

The few somewhat gloomy photos I have for this day are linked here.

Glen Rouge Campground is owned by the city of Toronto, located in a linear greenbelt parkway called Rouge Park, dissected by the Rouge River. The grounds are well maintained, with laundry facilities on site. These consisted of two washers, one of them broken, and two dryers, one out of service. With more than a week of laundry collected, I decided to try to find a laundromat where I could actually get the laundry completed in something less than a full day. Mo decided to go with me so I wouldn’t have to wander off into the city alone, and we set out to find a laundry.

The camp hostess suggested a place a few miles west toward town on Kingston Street, which sounded reasonable, but at the early morning rush hour, Kingston Street was backed up cars in all four lanes punctuated by stop lights. The fresh, almost antiseptically clean suburbs gave way to seedier neighborhoods and crowded apartment buildings with varying degrees of window coverings that included aluminum foil. Maybe these are the kinds of neighborhoods that actually need laundromats, since most of the fancy townhomes near the area we left behind probably had their own in home laundry facilities.

About $12.00 Canadian, and four loads later, we emerged with clean bedding and fresh clothes. Watching all those folks doing laundry reminded me of the days when I did diapers for three babies in laundromats, too poor to own a washer that worked. Life is good. Now I only go to laundromats when I am traveling.

Another supposed amenity of Glen Rouge Campground is the excellent security. Last night it was severely lacking, however, and somewhere around 2am our next door neighbor hosted two cars full of drunken party goers. They entertained us with raucous conversation, loud music, singing, and falling down sounds until the last car pulled away around seven this morning. When we reported this to the camp hostess, she made some mumblings about security, and I got the impression that maybe the security personnel may have been part of the party. Our other neighbors are just fine, sweet and just conversational enough to be fun but not intrusive, and they love the cat and dog. We will be leaving tomorrow morning, and I am hoping that the rowdy neighbor is too worn out from last night to keep us up again tonight.

With laundry handled, we took Abby to a doggie day care and once more took the train to town for another day of exploration. Toronto has so many interesting offerings, but the Royal Ontario Museum called me most, with the exhibition “The Warrior Emperor and China’s Terracotta Army” in residence, it was something I didn’t want to miss. The ROM, as it is affectionately known here in town, is just a little over a mile north of Union Station on University Street. It was a great chance to walk more city streets and observe how the demographics and energy of the neighborhoods change throughout the city.

Queen’s Park is at the center of the University of Toronto campus, and has the most amazing collection of huge hardwoods, oaks, maples, and others, that I have ever seen. In the dark shade of a dreary day, I found it impossible to capture the immensity of these trees in a photograph. The main building of the University was as imposing as any castle I have seen anywhere, and the cosmopolitan atmosphere was impressive.

We finally found the ROM north of Queen’s Park and entered. There was an extra fee to see the Terracotta Army, but it was well worth it. After complete immersion into Chinese history of two hundred B.C., we emerged into the rest of the museum. Much like the Smithsonian, the sheer volume of the exhibits is overwhelming. I decided that the only way to truly visit a museum of this stature would be slowly, a day at a time for each section. Since we didn’t have that luxury, we wandered a bit aimlessly through the halls and rooms and stairwells. Photos weren’t allowed, but mental images include a totem pole from British Columbia spanning all four stories of the building and a domed ceiling tiled with gold and inlay that was as intricate as any we saw in Turkey.

After all that walking and wandering, we were starving, so took advantage of what is known in Toronto as “street meat’”, the hot dog stand. Hot dog is a misnomer for what we ate today, with the juicy succulent meat sliced diagonally and roasted on an open flame right before our eyes. The condiments included fancy colored peppers and a sweet corn relish among the usual goodies. We sat on the steps of the ROM and watched people passing by while munching down the best hot dog I ever ate in my entire life.

The Museum station of the TTC Subway was right there, and it was a quick, 4.00 jaunt to Union Station just in time to catch the express GOTRAIN to our home station at Rouge Hill. After two days we were getting to be old hands at finding the stairs, hallways, and platforms of the transit system.

After picking up Abby from her caretakers, we desperately needed some internet time to handle business affairs, and finally found free wireless at the local coffee establishment called Second Cup. Much like the Starbucks of the old days, they had great coffees, comfy chairs, a fireplace, and free wireless. Time to catch up on banking and email, and try to get photos up and maybe a blog post or two at least! By the time we left the place was full of interesting people, talking, computing, drinking and eating; definitely a hoppin’ place to be in the suburbs of Toronto on a Wednesday evening!

We plan to leave by 6 in the morning to drive to Niagara Falls and miss the worst of the Toronto traffic, so the alarm is set for 5. The rain comes and goes, but it stopped long enough for us to get the bikes and the kayaks loaded up again and get things ready for an early departure tomorrow.

September 5 Sault Ste Marie to Killarney and a bear!

The rest of the photos for this day of travels are linked here

Our day turned out to be wonderfully exciting and beautiful as we crossed the border into Canada. The weather was gloomy at first, but cleared as the day progressed. Originally, our plan for this trip included several days in the provincial parks along the northern shore of Lake Superior where we planned to kayak the lakes and rivers of this part of Ontario. We changed our plans a few days ago, and it turned out to be a good idea. The storms and rain would have kept us from doing any kayaking and the drives were long and featureless with the lake hidden by miles and miles of trees. In addition, the cost of gasoline in Canada ran as high as 4.00 per US gallon, so those many miles would have been expensive.

Instead, our only day camping in Ontario parks was today, at Killarney Provincial Park. Once over the border, which was completely uneventful, we stopped at the Ontario visitors center for information. The guide there was knowledgeable and helpful, and told us in her opinion Killarney was the loveliest park to see.

On the way through the park we stopped for a roadside rest along a lovely lake and hiked around a bit with the dog before continuing. Arriving at the campground around 2 in the afternoon, we set up our camp and thrilled at the brilliant sunshine. The park brochure listed several excellent hikes that were accessible to us, in addition to visiting the small coastal town of Killarney and kayaking either a lake or a river. After perusing the map and the weather we opted for a chance to actually take our boats down and get in the water for the first time on this trip! The skies were gorgeous and the winds were high, but the launching point on Chickanishing Creek was protected enough and had a good ramp. There were several people coming in to land, and the winds were a bit daunting, but we launched and headed for the “Big Water”.

We paddled through meandering water with very little current, among huge pink boulders of granite, smoothed by glaciers and dotted with pine, spruce, and fir. Once we emerged onto Lake Superior, there were granite islands all around us, but the wind was so high we were afraid to go very far into the waves. We don’t have skirts for our kayaks, and big winds make big waves, and we didn’t want to swamp in the extremely cold water so we turned back.

Gichee-Goomi, the Shining Big Sea Water

Paddling upstream was almost effortless, and back in the protected shelter of the creekside banks and cliffs the wind wasn’t as difficult to manage. While gliding along watching the bank, I suddenly realized that something was also watching me! I was eye to eye with a small black bear on the bank, just a few feet from my kayak. Wow! I was glad to be in my boat, even knowing that bears are great swimmers, I felt OK. I called out to Mo, backpaddled to get a better view and take some photos. Abby was sniffing like crazy trying to figure out what that thing was, and the bear was doing the same. We didn’t stay around long enough for him to get more interested in us, but he didn’t seem the least bit afraid of us either. It was the first bear I have seen up that close in ages, not since my mapping days in North Idaho in the 90’s. He was cute. From the safety of my boat, at least.

Our first bear of the trip, up close and personal!

The weather held up long enough for us to reload the boats and get settled into camp before starting to rain again. It was a perfectly wild and gorgeous day with a bear to top it off.

September 3 Duluth to Gogebic, Michigan


Cool rain for our morning walk	The St Louis River

The rest of the photos for this day are linked here:

We left Jay Cooke State Park this morning in the rain, but not before taking some time to check out the swinging bridge over the St. Louis River. The bridge was originally built in the early 1900’s, flooded and destroyed twice, and then the bridge you see here was completed in the 1960’s. It spans the St. Louis River, a wild cataract of brown tinged water cascading over sedimentary slates. The brown color is disconcerting at first for westerners used to white water, but is caused by the diluted acids from the organic soils that these waters flow through.


The Bayfield marina is the jumping off spot for the Apostle Islands	Bayfield neighborhoods have many restored Craftsman and Victorian homes converted to B&B’s

We traveled across Wisconsin on a northern route, and spontaneously went north to the small town of Bayfield. Even in the dreary rain, Bayfield was a beautiful place. There were flowers everywhere, amazing creative little shops, an excellent visitor center and a gorgeous bay. Bayfield is the gateway to the Apostle Islands, full of sea caves and wild trails. These islands are a well known destination for kayakers, and we fit right in with our kayaks and bikes on the baby car. Well known to everyone but us, I guess, since I had never heard of them until we saw them on the maps of Lake Superior.

I have an old saying, “I could live here”. Of course other criteria comes in when deciding where to live, and proximity to my family is a big one, so maybe I really couldn’t live here. But if I could just plop this town down somewhere in Oregon, it would be perfect. The Chamber of Commerce has a great brochure with photos and stories of people who came to Bayfield to visit, and stayed to open small businesses and thrive.

After Bayfield, we knew it was time to find a place to sleep, and with this being a few days before Labor Day knew that it could be problematic. A quick phone search revealed a large lake in Michigan to the east, and we called and landed a electric site in the park. Something we have found in most of the state parks in this part of the country is that they are expensive. The initial camping fee is reasonable, but all the parks have a day pass that is required in addition, and extra charges for other little details as well. Most of our park stays are running over $30.00 a day at least. Since we are only traveling for six weeks, it’s not ideal, but manageable, but if we were full-timing these state parks might be a bit too pricey. Especially since electricity is sketchy and WiFi non existent.

Gogebic was windy and wild as we settled in, and also very crowded. The sites were grassy, with big ruts from the wet soils. The electric cost extra, and with the weather we were glad to have it. We set up, hooked up the power, and it worked for a few minutes before going completely dead. Of course, instead of looking at the storm around us, we tried to figure out what was wrong with our power system, or what we had done wrong. Later, I finally went to the camp office thinking perhaps the breaker was down. What I hadn’t considered was the weather. Duh. The power was out all over the campground.