Everybody in our party shorter than me was still groggy when we arrived back in Sault. We visited the souvenir shop for a bit of memorabilia, but didn’t tarry. It was late and we still had a drive to our next campsite, already reserved at the Agawa Bay Campground in Lake Superior Provincial Park.

Well, what with the singing, and snacking, and chatting, we somehow completely missed the Agawa Bay campground sign on Highway 17. We were almost out of the Park and starting to get concerned when we passed the Park office. Before you ask, Sergey Brin was no help as we were far out of cell range. We were on manual.

The office was closed and unpopulated, but the map board outside revealed our error. We had passed the campground an hour back. Luckily, there was another campground just a few kilometers up the road so we made for that instead. That campground, Rabbit Blanket, was also unstaffed, but there was an empty campsite that even had a power outlet. Yay!! We set up camp and made ourselves at home.

I met two fellows in the campground, who had themselves met on the road, literally. One was from BC, and was cycling across the country as a personal challenge. The other was from Perth, Australia and was cycling across the  country as just one stage of cycling around the world. The Australian had simply grown tired of his desk job and was riding (all) around until he decided what he wanted to do next. He was younger than the Canadian, but neither of them looked like athletes. The takeaway is that anybody can do it. Go get that bike out of the garage, you lazy bugger.

Those Johnston Kids were torturing marshmallows over the fire when I made a discovery near the comfort station. Two baby rabbits had come out to explore in the early evening hours. As most juvenile prey animals will do when confronted with a potential predator, they froze in place and were easy to gently pick up. I could see that the kids were very careful to move slowly and speak quietly, but I thought Baby Girl in particular might literally explode from the cuteness overload. New trip highlight. They were still chattering about it over breakfast the next day.

There were a few places we could have stayed next, but we settled on Rainbow Falls Provincial Park. The decision was made with lightning speed when we hit the part of the info centre brochure that said “paddleboats”. It was a drive of a few hours, livened up with sing-along to Lindi Ortega, and a double moose spotting along the highway. This bull and a cow were within 10 meters of the highway, munching on water plants, but beat a retreat when we circled back to get a photo.

Oh, Pooh. We also paused in the bustling burg of White River, the birthplace of Winnie the Pooh. See, A.A. Milne’s inspiration for the Pooh stories was a black bear named Winnie in the London (UK) zoo. Winnie was a Canadian, found as a cub at the White River train station, and eventually given overseas. There’s a shrine of sorts to the fuzzy honeysucker at the town’s entrance. While we waited our turn to approach after a busload of retired Quebecois tourists, Baby Girl amused herself taking pictures of the landscaping.

While I was checking in at Rainbow Falls, I was urged by Those Johnston Kids to ask about the paddleboats. I did. The boats weren’t ready. While we set up camp, I was urged to go back and ask about the paddleboats again. I did. They still weren’t ready. During a hike out to see the eponymous Rainbow Falls, we stopped in at the office to ask again and were told “any minute now”. Baby Girl remarked that that saying didn’t really make any sense, but I explained that when a grown-up says it, it means any minute except this one. Around mouthfuls of dinner, I was asked to go back and check yet again. I did and the @#%$ paddleboat was secured. I mean, geez. You would think they had never been in a boat before.

I was afraid to tell them that they also had paddlebikes.

It was no good trying to hide it though, as the paddlebikes were parked on the same dock as the paddleboats. The harangue for a paddlebike began even as we laboured our paddleboat down the length of the lake. I will just say it: calling a paddleboat a boat is a lie. They are about as efficient as logs. There’s a reason the paddlewheel isn’t a valid means of marine locomotion any longer.

We had a good campfire, but the bugs drove us indoors to play SkipBo. Amusingly, Short Pants’ math isn’t as good as Baby Girls’, but he is cunning. He grasped the game tactics almost immediately and played adeptly even while making goofy faces. The game was abandoned before his victory was declared, however, as everyone was too tired to pay attention and sleeping bags were needed.

The nights are cold up here on the north shore of Superior. We were down to single digits Saturday night and our breath hung in the air. Our sleeping bags are warm, but we may need to purchase some jackets for the cool evenings.