Thunder Bay in the rear view mirror

One-night stands, hooking up. Salacious phrases that mean something completely different in our world.

After our hasty retreat from Thunder Bay and the “the dead-end incident” we were left without a plan, which in our world is an everyday thing. Seat of the pants would best describe our travel routine.

Why did the bear cross the road?

This is where the one-night stand comes in, no un-hitching the trailer, just park that sucker, pull out the slides and you’re set for the night. No fuss, no muss and in the morning you’re gone. Nipigon, our choice for a one-night stand and a great dinner overlooking the river at the Edgewater, gotta love those Tripadvisor recommendations. We make a quick stop at the Travel Info centre (who knew these things existed!)

Leaving our one night stand in Nipigon

We arrive in Wawa, odd name, nice town and the home of the famous 28-foot metal Goose, unfortunately in a state of decline inspiring fund-raising drives to “buy a feather, save the Goose”. Only in Canada, eh.

Take a gander

At these

Geese

But it’s really the other story of Wawa and Ontario that needs to be told, of the horrors that the guide books don’t tell you about.

Skeeters, mozzies, colourful descriptors for these tiny terrors, but in truth they should be called Demon blood-suckers.

Life in B.C. has left the Maloneys ill-prepared–sipping wine on our deck in summers past, lazily waving off the occasional wasp or black fly, our Prairie visitors sitting in wonder, covered in netting. “Where are the mosquitoes,” they exclaim, “Is this heaven?”

As we set up camp in Wawa, those years of smug complacency come back to haunt us. The Dame is quickly surrounded by a cloud of voracious demons and she begins the skeeter dance. Walk two paces, wave your left hand frantically, walk one pace, wave your right hand frantically, slap at your left leg, then right, and swat at your forehead and the back of your neck several times. Such fun really.

We were eaten alive by mosquitoes

Moquitoes are cunning, open the door a crack and the ten sentinels waiting outside quickly fly in to wreak havoc. Bottles of anti-itch sticks and creams litter the trailer. Spray bottles of OFF and Deep Woods Off fill the cupboards. The Dame has taken to wearing a clip-on OFF personal protector on her belt. A sort-of mosquito repellant condom if you will.

The Dog has other issues, we are in tick country and his rather large head and nose are a magnet for the blood-drinking drillers. At one point a large bubble forms on his back, a tick enjoying prime Golden Doodle snacking.
But other than that things are going well.

The Dog, a Tick Magnet