After my aqua-cycle lesson was rained out this morning (I don't get it, I would have gotten wet anyway), I decided to drive into Eliot Lake to take a look around.  After picking up a few groceries, I headed back and then FINALLY - after 9 weeks on the road, through forests and fields - I spotted a pudgy, little black bear on the side of the road.  He seemed to be trying to catch a butterfly and was totally oblivious to my approach until I was right beside him.  Knowing his Mom was nearby, I snapped this photo through the window and continued on my way.  As I drove off, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that he had moved to the middle of the road and seemed to be waving me goodbye.  It reminded me of the many road trips we took as kids where our parents kept us occupied by watching for bears in the woods.

Every campground has its particular characters and this one is no exception.  Helen, a 70 something widow is tiny and looks a lot like a little dragonfly.  Like the busy bug, she flits from campsite to campsite, carrying stories, gossip and making sure everyone is OK.  She brought me a cup of coffee this morning (long before I was ready to get up, however).  She is a seasonal camper - all the way from Eliot Lake (33km away) who has been coming here every summer for 27 years.  If you need to know anything about this place, ask Helen.

CBC Radio has a tag line at it's station identification every hour that says "You're listening to CBC Radio One in (name the city).  Canada lives here!"   Having crossed this country twice, that line gets me every time, no matter where I am.  Canada lives in the silky soft red sand of a PEI beach.  Canada lives in the foaming, crazy waterfall beside the highway near Spanish, Ontario.  Canada lives in the Knuckle (pronounced K nuckle with a hard K) company's bright red sheds on the Lunenburg docks.  Canada lives in a sleepy little churchyard in Oxford Junction, Nova Scotia; and in Tim Horton Ice Caps; and gas prices that go from 93.9 to 1.11 in just a few miles; and in a breaching humpback whale on the Bay of Fundy; and in the lupin and daisy filled ditches of New Brunswick; and at Ann's house; and at Anne's house; and on ferries; and on bridges and on all those little twisty country roads.  As I've said many times, it is a feast for all the senses.

Off to the Sault tomorrow and getting closer to home every day.

To be  continued.........