Zup'in Canada - Part 14

Epilogue

            By the end of the trip, I think everyone was ready to go home to their routine lives. People were getting bossy. Others were getting crabby and cranky. It was time to go. However, we all decided it would be great to go again in a few years. We might be able to even convince some of the non-campers to go next time and stay in the lodge – since the campsite was only a 5-10 minute boat ride from the main lodge or the cabins they have on the other side of the Main Camp island.

            Besides, I think it was my grandfather’s final opportunity to go camping and fishing like we did. He turned 71 during the trip, and we all had a small birthday party putting a candle on a cookie and singing “Happy Birthday.” It’s not that his spirit wouldn’t want to go, but time takes a toll on one’s body, and age has begun to settle in.

            It was a great experience getting to go this time again. It’s not always easy getting family together to go on trips like this. Let alone, having a family that doesn’t fight or argue, but rather accepts everyone for themselves and moves on with life.

            It was wonderful getting to drive across part of the states with my grandfather as a co-pilot. Most people don’t have the time to do such a thing, and I was happy for the opportunity. It’s good to hear stories being told. It’s good to find wisdom. It’s good to be alive and Zup’in Canada.

THE END

Zup'in Canada - Part 13

The Ride Home

            We had to get an early start Friday morning to get out of the area in time and back to the airport to drop off Keith, Lori, Tommy, and Rene. Bob had already left a few days earlier to get back for work. We got up at 5:30AM, made sure everything was packed, and headed back to the main camp while the dock boys took our gear to Dawson’s Portage. This time we were going by vehicle over the rough terrain and would be picked up by boat to be taken back to the United States.

            When we got to the portage, everything was ready. We jumped into some old SUVs and went through Dawson’s Portage. It took about 45 minutes never going over 5 miles an hour. I was in the SUV with Grandpa Joe, Lori, and two dock boys – one being the “Cabana Boy.” I bet Rene was upset. However, I would have rather of gone in the other SUV had I been paying attention. The only good looking woman who worked at Zup’s was going home for her week vacation, and I was in the SUV with two dock boys instead of her. At the end of the trail, we unpacked the gear and waited to repack it in the boat coming from Scott’s.

We picked up the mini-van after checking in with U.S. customs at Scott’s. Once again, uneventful at customs, but the man on the U.S. side was not as jovial as the woman on the Canadian side. We drove the four to five hours to the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. We had gotten there with plenty of time to spare and dropped them off in order for us to continue on our round-trip road trip – which for me, in total, ended up being 3,840 miles.

            The ride home was uneventful. This time we did not encounter any vehicular difficulties. Once again I saw plenty of fields of corn and soy beans. Billboards littered the highways as people speeded by. We did our normal routine of driving – first shift, second shift, third shift, sleep, wake to do it over again. We would stop, like we did on the way up, at rest areas to use the restroom, smoke a cigar or cigarette, or have lunch. There wasn’t much stopping along the way until the evenings, and we didn’t hit much traffic until this one spot close to home in Florida.

            Evidently, a few people had been killed in an accident. We had to wait an hour until we got on our way. As we passed by, it was not all cleaned up yet, and you could tell that in the flipped SUV someone had probably died. The other car had been removed already, but from the debris and the green bumper on the side of the road, it had been smashed as well.

            We listened to a different book rented from Cracker Barrel. This one was “The Lighthouse” by P.D. James lasting twelve hours. I slept through pieces of it, and my grandfather caught me up when I awoke. It was a detective mystery novel, so it wasn’t too hard to catch up on. All I had to know was who died and find out at the end who did it.

            I didn’t see any deer on the way back, but I did see that giant cross and the windmills. We didn’t get lost in Atlanta – probably because we passed through it on one of my grandfather’s shifts. All I know is by Atlanta, I was antsy to get home and out of the van.

            We finally arrived at my grandparent’s house around 5 PM. We unpacked my grandfather’s stuff. I didn’t stay long at all since I still had about two hours ahead of me until I would be home. Driving through Tampa, anxious to get out of the vehicle, is not fun. However, the causeway into Clearwater was a nice change to see knowing I was getting close to my Uncle’s house and only forty minutes from getting home and seeing my cat – Alley – who was probably going crazy with me being gone for twelve days.

            I hope I wasn’t short with my aunt, uncle, and cousin when I showed up with the mini-van. I didn’t want to socialize. All I wanted to do was transfer Rene’s and my stuff to my vehicle and get home. They laughed when I told them that saying that a 3800 mile round trip of driving was about to be over, and I just wanted to get there. They helped me load the gear into my little SUV and I was off.

            When I got home, Alley was meowing, waiting for me, and happy to see me. I dropped all of my gear on the floor intending to unpack and put things away tomorrow. I went and jumped in the shower to rinse off the dirt and sweat of the day. The trip was over. I was home. And I didn’t get poison ivy.

Zup'in Canada - Part 12

Bathroom / Toilet Paper

            I saved the best part for last. This had to of been the one thing the women were worried about – especially Rene. It was also something Tommy was concerned about before the trip. His mother told a story that he asked her if he could practice out back of their house before he went. That gave everyone at the family gathering at the time a long, hearty laugh.

            Everywhere on the trip, Rene carried toilet paper with her. She even took a roll for the portage trip home, just in case she needed to stop. The portage out was early, and she avoided coffee that morning so it didn’t percolate her digestive system into motion.

            The women used a lot of wet wipes, but in defense, they had to dig a hole every time they went. Men have it a bit easier in that aspect. The line for the shovel, in the morning after coffee, was amusing. Someone was always looking for the shovel or waiting for it to return from use in the woods.

By the time we were done with the trip, the area we used looked like a mine field. Carefully dug and refilled holes sprouted up out of every nook and cranny. The most popular spots by trees and rocks (to hold your balance on) had been picked away - leaving a person to get creative on where to go number two, drop the kids off, pinch a loaf, cop a squat, or take a dump.

            We never did run out of toilet paper, but it probably would have been the right amount had the women not brought wet wipes. One roll even ended up in the mini van for Grandpa Joe’s and my ride home – left by Rene – just in case.

            Using the bathroom in the woods isn’t difficult. It just takes some balance and a way to hold the toilet paper. It’s uncomfortable, but doable. However, I’m sure everyone was happy to sit on a porcelain commode once it was all over.

Zup'in Canada - Part 11

Entertainment

            I found there were four forms of entertainment on this trip. Three of which will be retold here, and the other will take up its own section. There was no television set to watch or radio to listen to. The only humor I had was in the form of human comedy from my relatives.

            The first was Uncle Keith and his obsession with twisty tie clean up. At first, there wasn’t much on the ground, and none of our group threw any there. However, from past groups on the island, they showed up as we walked over and disturbed the Earth under our feet. Everywhere he went we would hear one or a combination of the following: “Another twisty tie.” “Wow, there’s another one.” “Where are all of these coming from?”

            It was amusing, and there were enough of them for him to find the entire time on the island. I kept thinking someone was pulling them out of the bag and throwing them back on the ground for Keith to find later. But I know it wasn’t me, and if it was another relative they never owned up to it.

            Keith was also obsessed with making the fire every day and washing every day. I don’t think there was a day where he didn’t rinse off. He’s a cleanly man and likes things in order. He also didn’t shave the entire trip, which is very unlike him. It took his daughter to make a deal with him that she wouldn’t shave either.

            The second funny incidents came from Rene after she had a few shots of tequila and whiskey during the course of the day and got back to camp. Uncle Bob, Rene, Tommy, and I decided to head back to Zup’s lodge and have a beer and take some to go (each beer was Labatt’s Blue and cost $3). On the way there, as Bob was driving us back to Zup’s, Rene said one of the rememberable lines of the trip. Through squinted eyes, holding her hat on her head, she stated, “Look. I can paddle real fast!” Then she proceeded to make a paddling motion. Tommy found it amusing, and laughed all the way back to the resort.

            At the lodge, Rene told Tommy she thought one of the dock boys was cute and called him her “Cabana Boy,” which made Tommy laugh the entire camping trip. When we returned to camp, Rene made everyone laugh as she talked through squinty eyes. By the end of the night, Bob and I were almost caught up to her – which was the night I stayed up late with Tommy and caught a tick.

            The third laugh we all had came from Tommy. It seems Tommy sleep talks and walks. This time, however, he didn’t walk, but he did talk and make motions in the middle of the night. He had the night moves. The first time I only heard it, being too tired to turn over after hearing Keith ask Tommy if he was alright. The second time, Keith tapped me on my back to turn over and watch Tommy play characters in his sleep.

            The first time it happened, I heard muffled talking. I listened without turning over thinking it was Keith and Tommy talking. Then I realized it was only Tommy. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, and I overheard Keith say something to Tommy. The next morning, Keith told us all Tommy was sitting up in his cot, doggy paddling like a dog over and over, mumbling something. I started laughing and blurted out, “Yeah, he was saying, ‘Throw me the stick! Throw me the stick!’” We all laughed, and thought he had to of been doing it because of Dawson the yellow lab. Tommy wants a dog, and I think he was acting it out in his dreams.

            After dinner the next night, we were wondering if Tommy would act anything out again in his sleep. He did, and this time I saw him. Instead of playing fetch, he was fishing. He was sitting up in his cot, reeling in his line as if he was catching a fish. Over and over he pulled back and reeled. It was hysterical, and Keith and I just watched for a bit then went back to sleep. Like I said, Tommy always had a pole in the water, even in his sleep.

Zup'in Canada - Part 10

Bugs

            This trip was not like the one I had taken fourteen years ago when it came to bugs. I only was bit by one hateful fly, which I already mentioned. And, as for mosquitoes, it was relatively mild. It was probably because we were covered in 98% deet, and were glowing fluorescent green to anyone looking from off shore. I will say it kept the bugs off of us. Of course, there was the ever daring or starving mosquito who decided to come in for a bite or a meal. The deet didn’t deter them.

            One night, Tommy wanted to stay up a little later, and I was willing to test out the deet. As the sun was setting, and we were fishing, you could hear the rumble of the hordes coming. It was as if a freight train was heading towards us. In the pitch black, I could hear them swarming my head – at a consistent distance all around.

            I turned my flashlight on and was in awe. There had to be over fifty or more of them hovering around me deciding on whether to stay away or danger the deet and come through. Like I said, not many did, and it was bearable. What was unbearable was the sound, so we ventured to the other side of the island where there were less of them since we weren’t in the cove area.

            After a while, Tommy’s lure got caught on a rock. We had to climb into the canoe and unhook it. We ended up climbing through brush and weeds. Luckily, this time, I did not catch poison ivy. Tommy, however caught a tick on his thigh, and I caught a tick on the side of my ass. Our grandfather helped us get them both out. Tommy noticed his when he woke up in the morning. I noticed mine when we were bathing later on the sandbar beach area.

            Besides those incidents, I think we usually made it inside before the bugs came out in force. The sun didn’t really go down until 10 PM anyway, and it rose at 5 AM. That was a great time to sleep and avoid the bugs. 

Zup'in Canada - Part 9

Weather

            The weather was a little hot. The way the tents were set up and the island was situated did not allow for the breeze to flow through. The days were hot under the sun, and the nights were hot inside the tent. A couple of nights, it was cool. However, the main perception was that it was hot – but not as hot as Florida.

            One night a thunderstorm blew through. There was a ton of lightning and thunder rumbling through the wilderness. The animals were quiet, and the rain was coming into the window of the tent on my side. I reluctantly closed it, because that meant less cool air from the outside rain. This was the one night I didn’t need the white noise of my Uncle Keith’s sleep-aid-breathing machine that keeps him from snoring. And, believe me, it works. The one night he didn’t have it - because his machine’s battery uncharged - Keith snored like the thunder of the storm.

Zup'in Canada - Part 8

Fishing

            Overall, fishing was ok. I wouldn’t say it was great, but it was not horrible. I think overall I caught fifteen fish. Tommy caught the most, but he also had his fishing pole in the water the most. Whether it was on a boat or off the camp shore, he was fishing or doing something. I guess at thirteen you get bored easily. If he wasn’t fishing, he was throwing rocks into the water, peeling bark off trees, or canoeing out into the middle of the lake to get water for later use. He was always moving around, but it seems he had a blast. He was either smiling or looking serious. And the seriousness was only when he was trying to catch a fish.

Rene finally stopped being skunked on the third day. She finally decided to listen to me on how to set a hook. Previously, she had plenty of bites, but never landed a fish. On the third or fourth day, she landed a whopper – I think 32 inches. It was in the protected limit, so we had to throw it back.

            Actually, we threw most every fish back. No one seemed to want to eat any. So, one day, after one of the fish Rene caught died, we started keeping them. Lori wouldn’t keep hers on principle, but would eat some later if we caught enough. As a result, Uncle Keith didn’t keep his either. By the end of the day though, we had enough to fry up. Beer battered and all, the fish filets were good. The only problem was all of the y-bones. Once I got the hang of it, it was easy to find them. Before that though, I accidentally swallowed one. Luckily the bones were flimsy, and it didn’t get stuck in my throat.

            The last day, Rene and I got stuck on rocks in the boat. The one and only time it happened while I was driving the boat. Uncle Keith accidentally air jumped one day over a rock, scratching the motor and the rock he jumped over. I only hit the plastic trolling motor on a little rock. The reason we ended up on the rocks was Rene’s fault.

            As we were floating towards and inlet of rocks and grass, she thought she caught a fish. Then she thought she didn’t, so I put down the trolling motor to get us out of there. Then Rene changed her mind and did have a fish. She pulled it close to the boat as I tried to maneuver the motor and the net. I got the fish on the boat then tried to watch the motor. Rene refused to unhook the fish due to the pike’s teeth. I tried to unhook it, but it was deep in its throat. In the end, the fish had died, and we were on the rocks. If I had known the fish was going to die, I would have made sure the boat was off the rocks. But, in the end, a life is more precious than some plastic and aluminum rubbing on some rocks.

            The entire trip, no one caught a walleye. Well, Lori might have caught one, but they weren’t sure. I think she got it up beside the boat, but it kicked the hook. I also think my grandfather was disappointed he didn’t catch any walleye. He was partnered with Tommy, and Tommy didn’t like the slow monotony of trolling the bottom. He liked casting and my grandfather knew it. So he humored his grandson and missed out on the walleye.