The Road Trip: Day 23

Posted: August 17, 2016 by timjollymore in Uncategorized

Road wear: It doesn’t sneak up on you until . . .

You’ll have to take my word for it since I have no photos to prove it, but the evidence is certain:

  • This morning, I ran over the plastic bowl (very dear to me as it was part of a matched pair)  I dropped the night before. It had rolled under the car. I was stationary but the darn thing went exactly to the middle of the auto. “I’ll get it later,” I said. I did, but in pieces.
  • Last night, I took the first road I thought led to Wooden Frog Campground and followed it for half an hour when it turned private and dead end. Then, of course, I rode another half hour to get back to the highway.
  • Yet again, I took a turn-off toward the Ash River Trail, which I knew very well was not the right road. But it was only 8:30 p.m. with plenty of northern daylight to explore. Four miles down that very nice road, I asked myself, “Why am you doing this? There’ll be no time to set up camp and poke around.”
  • Once I found Wooden Frog Campground, instead of driving from site 39 to the pay kiosk like all the other campers, I thought I’d walk. The full moon had just risen and moonlight filtered through the very tall trees and oddly few mosquitoes made it feel like the right thing to do. “And what,” you ask, “did you think about on your walk?” As I dipped down hill toward the boat dock, the moon dissappeard, and darkness closed in on me, I thought about Leonardo di Caprio in The Revenant. About his tussle with the grizzly bear. Then each bush, each dark space between trees, each passing moth promised of a rushing mother bear, claws raised to my face and teeth poised at my throat. I smelled of a salmon and spinach supper. Luckily I had my dinner fork with me and was ready to defend myself. It is amazing, though, what the weary imagination fabricates out of absolutely nothing.
  • Lastly, suffering from imagination-induced bear-stress, I passed my campsite, #39, unrecognized, singing Yellow Submarine and Deep Purple to stay the bears, and I found myself at campsite 50! a quarter mile beyond old 39. Well, it was a nice walk.

I did sleep, some. I’m ready for another day.

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Comments
  1. Mary Lundberg says:

    These are the very reasons I am not a camper. Welcome to Minnesota!

    Like

  2. timjollymore says:

    The bowl is a complete but not devastating loss. I still have two left and will make do until something comes along.

    Like

  3. PS: Poor bowl. Poor you.

    Like

  4. Someone once said, “When life gives you lemons, squeeze them in someone’s eyes,” but I think, When life gives you wrong turns, sing Yellow Submarine” is far more compassionate all-around. Great post!

    Liked by 1 person

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