digitaldelay
Explorer
I knew I've seen that Dale Watson before!
Loan on the Range - Dollars Direct.ca Commercial: http://youtu.be/T6XjRdbU9hQ
Jason
Loan on the Range - Dollars Direct.ca Commercial: http://youtu.be/T6XjRdbU9hQ
Jason
Trans-America Trail and Beyond
- Thread starter Grabow
- Start date
I bought a propane tank and bracket from AT overland http://store.adventuretrailers.com/products/10-lb.-Propane-Cylinder-Bracket.html
and mounted it to the exo rack from vector offroad http://www.vectoroffroad.com/exo-rack-p-76.html
I've since ditched the small tank and mounted the big one on the drivers side. Over three weeks of cooking every meal for the two of us, and making coffee every morning, we only used .6 gallons of propane. The large tank alone will last us over two months thanks to the Partner Steel stove being so efficient.
and mounted it to the exo rack from vector offroad http://www.vectoroffroad.com/exo-rack-p-76.html
I've since ditched the small tank and mounted the big one on the drivers side. Over three weeks of cooking every meal for the two of us, and making coffee every morning, we only used .6 gallons of propane. The large tank alone will last us over two months thanks to the Partner Steel stove being so efficient.
Ryan Matthes
Adventurer and Explorer
Fantastic write up. TAT is already on the list, but may have just moved up. Quick question on the first RTT that was leaky- what brand / tent was it?
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
modernbeat
Jason McDaniel
Yeah, Dale is a regular performer in Austin and Dallas, Texas. I get to see him about every other month.
98roamer
Explorer
Thanks for the great write up and the photo journal. Sorry to hear about Carley's wreck and Bryan getting Lyme Disease, it can haunt you for a long time. Red River Gorge is truly a special place, I got engaged on a hike around there. I'm looking forward to your next report.
Do you think tire choice will make or break the TAT, AT vs MT?
Do you think tire choice will make or break the TAT, AT vs MT?
Sweet thanks.
Back on the Road / Update
We left Kentucky on Wednesday, July 30th to officially begin our adventure.
Here's a quick rundown of events:
Spent two nights in Chicago, visiting with friends and family.
Headed out on Friday morning after a solid nights sleep in the first real bed we'd slept in in almost 2 months.
Drove north to Michigan.
Stopped for a mid day beer in Holland.
Camped at Newaygo State Park
Relieved to be back on the road.
Took a scenic route to Mackinaw City and stopped along the way to pick up some sweet cherries and sweet corn.
Spent a few extra dollars to stay at a KOA in an attempt at catching some free wifi, but none of our devices had enough juice and the electrical outlet at our campsite required a fancy plug adapter that we do not possess. One of these days, we'll be prepared.
Shower. Laundry. Back on the road.
We cross the bridge to the Upper Peninsula, this is where the trip really starts. (not the first time we’ve said this)
We stopped in Saint Ignace for groceries and head directly for Drummond Island for some great off-road driving and wilderness camping.
The ferry was neat. Carley's first.
Picked up an ORV map and a 12pk of PBR at a gas station boldly advertising their selection of Michigan craft brews.
U.S. cell phone plans aren't exactly null and void here in this Canadian American middle ground, but the up-charges for phone calls and data usage are outrageous so the iphone is now reduced to a fancy time piece. Anyway, it's nice to step away from technology for a while.
Sat on the shore of Lake Huron and read for a bit while the sun descended behind the trees
Found a campsite off a dirt road, right on the shoreline, that would be considered downright dreamy by anyone's standards. Sat around a giant fire pit and drank wine and listened to the waves roll in through the night.
Drove all over the entire place the next day, and around noon we stop at a local bar & grill for a chicken bite and some free wifi. Gotta check the news. Gaza blown to bits, Floods in California. Sports in who-cares-where.
Stayed for another night of free camping on Drummond Island at that dreamy campsite. Gotta make that ferry ride fare worth it. Made camp earlier than usual (no travel time) collected firewood for the evening… tried to swim (too cold)…read on the beach…built a small cairn to accompany the others on the shore… now what? More reading maybe, then a game of scrabble to frustrate Brian… Is it nine yet? (the unofficial hour of ‘open the wine and start the fire’) not quite, oh well, who's keeping time?
Wake up. Make coffee and read a bit before heading back to the ferry.
Make phone calls to loved ones who weren't warned of our pause in communication.
Drive to Sault Saint Marie “The Soo”, had a coffee and wifi at a Cup of the Day. Very accommodating coffee shop/hair salon.
Found the last spot on a lakeside campground just outside of the Bay Mills Indian reservation.
Walked along the beach in silence. No questions to the other wondering how far south we may make it. No chatter about the rocks we found in the sand. Just the waves crashing on the shore.
The next day we planned an off road route to Grand Marais, a small lakeside town with, according to Brian, an amazing breakfast spot where they bake their own bread and pastries, and make their own jam. We’re excited!
The trail map we acquired at a gas stop was in black and white and had been copied many times and the lines were faded and blacked out. Adventure!
We headed down Seven Mile Fire Lane Road and got a little turned around. Ended up deep into ORV trails without proper licensing. We aren’t sure of the penalties, and don’t intend to find out.
High-tailed it off of that trail and bounced around through the sand.
Once back on the main road, we realized that the jeep had gone into Limp Mode, AGAIN, for no apparent reason. The last time this happened, cycling the engine off and then on again reset the computer to operational mode (of course this was only a temporary fix, and in the end the Jeep ended up laid up at a dealership for a total of more than two weeks). No such luck this time.
WHAT. THE. F&@K.
As we cruise at a seriously uncool 40mph, past everything that we wanted to see - Grand Marais, and it’s amazing breakfast spot, Pictured Rocks, Log Slide, Sable Dunes etc - looking for a place to camp for the night. Hoping that if we turn her off for a while, give 'er a rest, she'll wake up in the morning and everything will be fine again. Once again, no such luck.
Every campground is full up.
Drive 90 miles in second gear to the closest dealer just past Marquette. This gives us plenty of time to remember why we wanted to buy a Toyota, or build an older more “mechanical” vehicle for the trip.
Get a room at a cheap roadside motel. Get pizza and a couple high alcohol content beers. Worry ourselves to death that this might be it. Our great adventure ends in the UP of Michigan. Less than 700 miles from home. We have lost whatever faith we had left in the Jeep. In little more than 4,000 miles of travel, we have taken the Jeep to the shop for major transmission malfunction 3 times, and an additional 2 times for other diagnostic error codes. If we get stranded in some of the more remote sections of our trip, we could be 200 miles or better from civilization. It could prove fatal.
In the morning, we take the jeep to the dealer. They do some quick fix, unplug some things and plug them back in, literally, and send us packing. They basically say “This will get you to the next place that you’re sure to get stranded, when that happens, the parts (a transmission speed sensor and hydraulic valve body) will need to be ordered and you will have to sit for a few days.”
Within 5 miles of leaving the dealer the transmission is shifting erratically, but with no check engine light coming on, the dealer can’t help.
So here we are, at a campground near Houghton, MI. Jeep is running fine, for now. We plan to put it through the paces over the next couple of days. Running ORV trails in the Keweenaw Peninsula. Hoping to get it to malfunction again and give us a ‘check engine’ light so we can get it fixed (for real, this time).
Turtles rescued - 30
We left Kentucky on Wednesday, July 30th to officially begin our adventure.
Here's a quick rundown of events:
Spent two nights in Chicago, visiting with friends and family.
Headed out on Friday morning after a solid nights sleep in the first real bed we'd slept in in almost 2 months.
Drove north to Michigan.
Stopped for a mid day beer in Holland.
Camped at Newaygo State Park
Relieved to be back on the road.
Took a scenic route to Mackinaw City and stopped along the way to pick up some sweet cherries and sweet corn.
Spent a few extra dollars to stay at a KOA in an attempt at catching some free wifi, but none of our devices had enough juice and the electrical outlet at our campsite required a fancy plug adapter that we do not possess. One of these days, we'll be prepared.
Shower. Laundry. Back on the road.
We cross the bridge to the Upper Peninsula, this is where the trip really starts. (not the first time we’ve said this)
We stopped in Saint Ignace for groceries and head directly for Drummond Island for some great off-road driving and wilderness camping.
The ferry was neat. Carley's first.
Picked up an ORV map and a 12pk of PBR at a gas station boldly advertising their selection of Michigan craft brews.
U.S. cell phone plans aren't exactly null and void here in this Canadian American middle ground, but the up-charges for phone calls and data usage are outrageous so the iphone is now reduced to a fancy time piece. Anyway, it's nice to step away from technology for a while.
Sat on the shore of Lake Huron and read for a bit while the sun descended behind the trees
Found a campsite off a dirt road, right on the shoreline, that would be considered downright dreamy by anyone's standards. Sat around a giant fire pit and drank wine and listened to the waves roll in through the night.
Drove all over the entire place the next day, and around noon we stop at a local bar & grill for a chicken bite and some free wifi. Gotta check the news. Gaza blown to bits, Floods in California. Sports in who-cares-where.
Stayed for another night of free camping on Drummond Island at that dreamy campsite. Gotta make that ferry ride fare worth it. Made camp earlier than usual (no travel time) collected firewood for the evening… tried to swim (too cold)…read on the beach…built a small cairn to accompany the others on the shore… now what? More reading maybe, then a game of scrabble to frustrate Brian… Is it nine yet? (the unofficial hour of ‘open the wine and start the fire’) not quite, oh well, who's keeping time?
Wake up. Make coffee and read a bit before heading back to the ferry.
Make phone calls to loved ones who weren't warned of our pause in communication.
Drive to Sault Saint Marie “The Soo”, had a coffee and wifi at a Cup of the Day. Very accommodating coffee shop/hair salon.
Found the last spot on a lakeside campground just outside of the Bay Mills Indian reservation.
Walked along the beach in silence. No questions to the other wondering how far south we may make it. No chatter about the rocks we found in the sand. Just the waves crashing on the shore.
The next day we planned an off road route to Grand Marais, a small lakeside town with, according to Brian, an amazing breakfast spot where they bake their own bread and pastries, and make their own jam. We’re excited!
The trail map we acquired at a gas stop was in black and white and had been copied many times and the lines were faded and blacked out. Adventure!
We headed down Seven Mile Fire Lane Road and got a little turned around. Ended up deep into ORV trails without proper licensing. We aren’t sure of the penalties, and don’t intend to find out.
High-tailed it off of that trail and bounced around through the sand.
Once back on the main road, we realized that the jeep had gone into Limp Mode, AGAIN, for no apparent reason. The last time this happened, cycling the engine off and then on again reset the computer to operational mode (of course this was only a temporary fix, and in the end the Jeep ended up laid up at a dealership for a total of more than two weeks). No such luck this time.
WHAT. THE. F&@K.
As we cruise at a seriously uncool 40mph, past everything that we wanted to see - Grand Marais, and it’s amazing breakfast spot, Pictured Rocks, Log Slide, Sable Dunes etc - looking for a place to camp for the night. Hoping that if we turn her off for a while, give 'er a rest, she'll wake up in the morning and everything will be fine again. Once again, no such luck.
Every campground is full up.
Drive 90 miles in second gear to the closest dealer just past Marquette. This gives us plenty of time to remember why we wanted to buy a Toyota, or build an older more “mechanical” vehicle for the trip.
Get a room at a cheap roadside motel. Get pizza and a couple high alcohol content beers. Worry ourselves to death that this might be it. Our great adventure ends in the UP of Michigan. Less than 700 miles from home. We have lost whatever faith we had left in the Jeep. In little more than 4,000 miles of travel, we have taken the Jeep to the shop for major transmission malfunction 3 times, and an additional 2 times for other diagnostic error codes. If we get stranded in some of the more remote sections of our trip, we could be 200 miles or better from civilization. It could prove fatal.
In the morning, we take the jeep to the dealer. They do some quick fix, unplug some things and plug them back in, literally, and send us packing. They basically say “This will get you to the next place that you’re sure to get stranded, when that happens, the parts (a transmission speed sensor and hydraulic valve body) will need to be ordered and you will have to sit for a few days.”
Within 5 miles of leaving the dealer the transmission is shifting erratically, but with no check engine light coming on, the dealer can’t help.
So here we are, at a campground near Houghton, MI. Jeep is running fine, for now. We plan to put it through the paces over the next couple of days. Running ORV trails in the Keweenaw Peninsula. Hoping to get it to malfunction again and give us a ‘check engine’ light so we can get it fixed (for real, this time).
Turtles rescued - 30
Problem Solved!
So we’re a few weeks behind. It’s hard to get motivated to write every day when we’re constantly on the move and enjoying some of the most beautiful scenery we’ve ever seen. The next few blog posts will come in short bursts to get us caught up. Here we go!
Where did we leave off? The Jeep was running fine again (temporarily) and we were headed up to the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula to test out the “fix” the last dealership had done. Right on queue, just a handful of yards into the bumpy trail, the ‘check engine’ light came on and the Jeep went back into limp mode. This trail didn’t require us to go more than 40 mph, so we finished the drive out to the end of High Rock Bay, parked as close to the water as we could and had a much needed, stress relieving beer.
Brian did some spacephone research and found out that there is a Jeep dealership in Houghton/Hanckock - less than 40 miles from were we were standing – where we had camped the night before. This was good news, as we didn’t want to have to drive all the way back to Marquette, which was many more miles away. We hopped back in the Jeep and headed back to Houghton/Hancock.
It’s Friday at nearly 4:30pm. The service dept. closes at 5pm…for the weekend. The Jeep won’t go faster than 40mph. We called ahead to ask if there was any way we could just get a code reading. The service manager told us to come on in and he’d wait around for us. We must have hit a wormhole because we managed to pull onto the lot at 4:55pm. The mechanic comes out and jumps right under the hood.
Brian tells him not to bother checking fuses - he had already done that several times a day earlier. The mechanic hooks up a wireless diagnostic scanner and he and Brian head in to the garage to read what codes the scanner is sending. The mechanic says that the combination of codes don’t really jive with what the other dealers had told us, and we’re back at square one. Brian hops under the hood and, after a few minutes, finds what may have been causing all of our problems.
A small wire looks like it may have a tiny bare spot that could be shorting out against the transmission dipstick tube. After a bit of computer searching, the mechanic says that the wire is one that supplies power to the transmission control module, and that it is very likely to have been the cause of all of our transmission troubles over the past week. A little bit of electric tape, and piece of rubber hose, and problem solved!
Now, we find camp! But...it’s 6:30pm on a Friday with nothing but sunshine and warmth - all campgrounds are full. We called all of them. We figured we’d head back up the peninsula, stop in Calumet and figure it out from there over a beer. There’s a bar there called Schute’s Saloon that has been preserved and restored and it’s absolutely beautiful. The bartender informed us that all the hotels were booked (some mountain bike race in town) so we asked him if he knew of any decent wilderness camping or just safe place to park for the night. He came back with an offer from a regular to let us park and pop the tent in his yard. We could even use his bathroom and have a fire in the back yard. “We’ll take it!” Then he mentioned the price. $20. TO PARK IN YOUR DRIVEWAY?! Whatever. We already said yes and human contact was something we could both use.
So the bartender introduced us to the regular and his ladyfriend. They seemed nice enough. We finished our beers and headed to the guy’s house, parked and started making dinner. They arrived about 30 min after us. They were smashed. She had been drinking all day. He was not far behind her. He talked a lot and listened very little. She was a stern faced woman who smiled only two times: once when Carley remembered her name and again when she spoke of her dogs - an overweight chihuahua and an old black pug.
We stayed up too late. Drank too many beers. Left early the next morning with a slight headache.
From Calumet, High Rock point is roughly an hour drive. So we took our time and stopped in Copper Harbor for breakfast. We found an excellent camp spot right on the shoreline of Lake Superior and set up camp early so as to enjoy the beautiful day. The water was freezing, but we got in anyway.
The next night, we camped a little further out on the rocky shoreline. As we were setting up camp, we ran into a couple of campers (two men) who were just about to head out. The older of the two, Rick, offered us their leftover firewood. Score! We struck up a conversation and he talked about everything from a massive bike wreck he’d had a year earlier that almost left him dead (or worse), to the several countries he’s traveled to. First impression: excellent storyteller and all around good human. He gave us blueberries, eggs and a very large amount of firewood and invited us to shower and do laundry at his house the next day. So we took his number, shook hands and parted ways.
This was, by far, the best night yet. Waves crashing onto the rocky shore behind us, a breeze coming in off the lake, the Super Moon lighting up the night, the wine flowing and a little Ryan Adams on the radio. It couldn’t have possibly been any better.
Turtles helped across the road: 30 and counting (and not a single turtle in the U.P.)
So we’re a few weeks behind. It’s hard to get motivated to write every day when we’re constantly on the move and enjoying some of the most beautiful scenery we’ve ever seen. The next few blog posts will come in short bursts to get us caught up. Here we go!
Where did we leave off? The Jeep was running fine again (temporarily) and we were headed up to the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula to test out the “fix” the last dealership had done. Right on queue, just a handful of yards into the bumpy trail, the ‘check engine’ light came on and the Jeep went back into limp mode. This trail didn’t require us to go more than 40 mph, so we finished the drive out to the end of High Rock Bay, parked as close to the water as we could and had a much needed, stress relieving beer.
Brian did some spacephone research and found out that there is a Jeep dealership in Houghton/Hanckock - less than 40 miles from were we were standing – where we had camped the night before. This was good news, as we didn’t want to have to drive all the way back to Marquette, which was many more miles away. We hopped back in the Jeep and headed back to Houghton/Hancock.
It’s Friday at nearly 4:30pm. The service dept. closes at 5pm…for the weekend. The Jeep won’t go faster than 40mph. We called ahead to ask if there was any way we could just get a code reading. The service manager told us to come on in and he’d wait around for us. We must have hit a wormhole because we managed to pull onto the lot at 4:55pm. The mechanic comes out and jumps right under the hood.
Brian tells him not to bother checking fuses - he had already done that several times a day earlier. The mechanic hooks up a wireless diagnostic scanner and he and Brian head in to the garage to read what codes the scanner is sending. The mechanic says that the combination of codes don’t really jive with what the other dealers had told us, and we’re back at square one. Brian hops under the hood and, after a few minutes, finds what may have been causing all of our problems.
A small wire looks like it may have a tiny bare spot that could be shorting out against the transmission dipstick tube. After a bit of computer searching, the mechanic says that the wire is one that supplies power to the transmission control module, and that it is very likely to have been the cause of all of our transmission troubles over the past week. A little bit of electric tape, and piece of rubber hose, and problem solved!
Now, we find camp! But...it’s 6:30pm on a Friday with nothing but sunshine and warmth - all campgrounds are full. We called all of them. We figured we’d head back up the peninsula, stop in Calumet and figure it out from there over a beer. There’s a bar there called Schute’s Saloon that has been preserved and restored and it’s absolutely beautiful. The bartender informed us that all the hotels were booked (some mountain bike race in town) so we asked him if he knew of any decent wilderness camping or just safe place to park for the night. He came back with an offer from a regular to let us park and pop the tent in his yard. We could even use his bathroom and have a fire in the back yard. “We’ll take it!” Then he mentioned the price. $20. TO PARK IN YOUR DRIVEWAY?! Whatever. We already said yes and human contact was something we could both use.
So the bartender introduced us to the regular and his ladyfriend. They seemed nice enough. We finished our beers and headed to the guy’s house, parked and started making dinner. They arrived about 30 min after us. They were smashed. She had been drinking all day. He was not far behind her. He talked a lot and listened very little. She was a stern faced woman who smiled only two times: once when Carley remembered her name and again when she spoke of her dogs - an overweight chihuahua and an old black pug.
We stayed up too late. Drank too many beers. Left early the next morning with a slight headache.
From Calumet, High Rock point is roughly an hour drive. So we took our time and stopped in Copper Harbor for breakfast. We found an excellent camp spot right on the shoreline of Lake Superior and set up camp early so as to enjoy the beautiful day. The water was freezing, but we got in anyway.
The next night, we camped a little further out on the rocky shoreline. As we were setting up camp, we ran into a couple of campers (two men) who were just about to head out. The older of the two, Rick, offered us their leftover firewood. Score! We struck up a conversation and he talked about everything from a massive bike wreck he’d had a year earlier that almost left him dead (or worse), to the several countries he’s traveled to. First impression: excellent storyteller and all around good human. He gave us blueberries, eggs and a very large amount of firewood and invited us to shower and do laundry at his house the next day. So we took his number, shook hands and parted ways.
This was, by far, the best night yet. Waves crashing onto the rocky shore behind us, a breeze coming in off the lake, the Super Moon lighting up the night, the wine flowing and a little Ryan Adams on the radio. It couldn’t have possibly been any better.
Turtles helped across the road: 30 and counting (and not a single turtle in the U.P.)
UP - Getting Caught Up
The Jeep is running great, we had a perfect two nights on the shore of High Rock Bay and we were looking forward to a much needed hot shower at Rick’s house. That morning, there was a light drizzle, so we packed up camp early and headed back to Hancock to find Rick.
Once we arrived, he gave us the grand tour of his house and told us every single detailed story of every corner, upgrade, paint job, deck in/on/around the place. We took showers and did laundry. Brian volunteered to help paint one of the bathrooms. Afterwards, Rick insisted that we stay at his house for the night, and ran out to grab us lunch. He returned with a local favorite called a Pasty: a pastry consisting of meat, potatoes and carrots wrapped in flaky dough and then baked to crispy goodness. Definitely not our favorite meal, but filling and it hit the spot.
Although not much of a listener, Rick was a great storyteller. He recounted nearly every experience he's had since childbirth with detail and suspense. Inserting himself into current local and global events with personal recounts. For example - 9/11: He could tell us, personally, that planes hadn’t crashed in PA or D.C. He had visited and inspected both sites recently after the supposed incidents. Bolivarian revolution: it was nasty business, with one of his students publicly hanged. The Egyptian revolution: Very dangerous walking through Tahrir Square in the early days, and that one time he got the Egyptian military to open up a checkpoint by schooling them on how democracy works. Who knows what, if any of it, was true. They were good stories, nonetheless.
That evening, Rick took us out in his AMC Javelin to a couple of local bars, bought us beer and pizza and we laughed as Rick told us stories about nearly everyone in town.
Rick’s house had several bedrooms, but international students who attend the local college were renting them all out. Thus, there were no spare beds. However, two couches = one full size mattress, so the three of us rearranged his living room into a full size suite and we slept as Rick’s cat, whom he called “The Devil”, watched us from his perch.
In the morning, Rick made us blueberry pancakes, we filled up our water jugs, charged all of our devices and hit the road.
Drove to Duluth MN and had a couple of beers at Fitgers. Duluth seemed like a pretty cool town, but we were anxious to cross the border into Canada, so unfortunately we didn’t spend a lot of time there. That night we camped about 30 or so miles north of Duluth at a private campground.
The Jeep is running great, we had a perfect two nights on the shore of High Rock Bay and we were looking forward to a much needed hot shower at Rick’s house. That morning, there was a light drizzle, so we packed up camp early and headed back to Hancock to find Rick.
Once we arrived, he gave us the grand tour of his house and told us every single detailed story of every corner, upgrade, paint job, deck in/on/around the place. We took showers and did laundry. Brian volunteered to help paint one of the bathrooms. Afterwards, Rick insisted that we stay at his house for the night, and ran out to grab us lunch. He returned with a local favorite called a Pasty: a pastry consisting of meat, potatoes and carrots wrapped in flaky dough and then baked to crispy goodness. Definitely not our favorite meal, but filling and it hit the spot.
Although not much of a listener, Rick was a great storyteller. He recounted nearly every experience he's had since childbirth with detail and suspense. Inserting himself into current local and global events with personal recounts. For example - 9/11: He could tell us, personally, that planes hadn’t crashed in PA or D.C. He had visited and inspected both sites recently after the supposed incidents. Bolivarian revolution: it was nasty business, with one of his students publicly hanged. The Egyptian revolution: Very dangerous walking through Tahrir Square in the early days, and that one time he got the Egyptian military to open up a checkpoint by schooling them on how democracy works. Who knows what, if any of it, was true. They were good stories, nonetheless.
That evening, Rick took us out in his AMC Javelin to a couple of local bars, bought us beer and pizza and we laughed as Rick told us stories about nearly everyone in town.
Rick’s house had several bedrooms, but international students who attend the local college were renting them all out. Thus, there were no spare beds. However, two couches = one full size mattress, so the three of us rearranged his living room into a full size suite and we slept as Rick’s cat, whom he called “The Devil”, watched us from his perch.
In the morning, Rick made us blueberry pancakes, we filled up our water jugs, charged all of our devices and hit the road.
Drove to Duluth MN and had a couple of beers at Fitgers. Duluth seemed like a pretty cool town, but we were anxious to cross the border into Canada, so unfortunately we didn’t spend a lot of time there. That night we camped about 30 or so miles north of Duluth at a private campground.
Oh, Canada
Canada, here we come! After staying a night near Duluth, we got the jeep all cleaned up and presentable for our first border crossing at Thunder Bay. We were giddy and nervous. If the border patrol decided they don’t like the looks of us, they could hold us up in customs for hours, searching the jeep for who knows what. With Brian’s hand tattoos and general distaste for authority, we thought it best to let Carley drive us through.
After a few questions about who we are, what we do for a living and what we’re doing in Canada, the officer asked about weapons or anything to declare. Brian mentions that we have a can of bear mace and asks if we need to declare it. Officer asks to see it. ******t, it’s locked up in the tent. “Pull over, we’ll need to take a look”.
Ugh, here we go. This is the part where they turn the entire jeep upside down and we’ll be left to piece the puzzle back together. We pulled off, popped the tent, fetched the mace and Carley took the can inside where she was immediately dismissed. “We’re free to go?” Free to go. We stowed the can in a more convenient spot, closed up the tent and we were on our way!
By no means were we expecting Canada to be a culture shock: every one speaks English, cars drive on the right side of the road, etc. The little things, though, were slightly exciting. Such as converting kilometers to miles, Celsius to Fahrenheit and getting cash from the ATM (Canadian money is pretty cool compared to the US dollar).
That evening, we checked into a KOA near Thunder Bay to get our plan together and figure out where we want to pick up the TCAT (Trans Canadian Adventure Trail). Good lord, we couldn’t believe how expensive it was. $40 for a tent site!? Whatever. We wanted to use their wifi and showers, so we paid. This was the first of many times we would cringe at the price tag on everything across Canada. Everything is more expensive there and we’re on a serious budget. Gas was over $5/gal. Already we were debating heading back to the US just to cover some ground, feeling our money would be better spent exploring distant lands, and exotic rainforests that we probably would never make it back to. Would it be worth spending loads of extra cash to see the most boring parts of Canada? We really wanted to see the Canadian Rockies, but they were days away…
The next morning, we headed west and got our first ever close up of a moose near the side of the road. Okay, maybe we’ll stay in Canada a little while longer.
(We didn't take very many pictures of this portion of the trip. So enjoy this moose!)
In the states, you can camp for free pretty much anywhere you want on National Forest or BLM land. It’s a bit different in Canada. Feeling stressed about money, we wanted to cover some ground, so we drove all day and ended up a couple hours east of Winnipeg in a small town called Kenora and camped at The Willows campground. Judging from the surrounding campgrounds and RV parks, we weren’t expecting much, but this place was lovely! Our campsite even came with two deck chairs facing the sunset and it cost less than the over crowded KOA. Score!
A fellow Cincinnatian, who happened to be camping a few sites over, came to chat us up about our rig. We were cooking Cincinnati style chili (if you’ve never had it, it looks gross, but tastes amazing) but he hardly noticed. He and his friend were riding bicycles from Vancouver, BC to Thunder Bay, ON. We swapped stories, shook hands and parted ways. That was nice.
Wake up, make coffee and head out.
Being fans of bands like Propagandhi and The Weakerthans, we were excited to get to Winnipeg. So we hopped on the Trans Canada Highway and pulled into town around 2pm. Found a bar downtown and had a couple beers and then walked around trying to get a feel for the place. It was feeling rather dull and we were still really stressed about money, so we decided to head back east a few miles to a campground called Birds Hill Provincial Park. Listening to The Weakerthans’ “One Great City!”, really getting it now.
This was not the nicest place we’ve ever camped, by far. Everyone was packed right on top of one another and we were clearly in the wrong spot for a quiet night of wine and scrabble. No, this was party town. Folks were hootin’ and hollerin’ all night. Ever seen Trailer Park Boys? Yeah, it was like that. Oh well, it was entertaining, to say the least.
Have we mentioned that we’re stressed about money? Did we touch on how expensive Canada is? Okay, just making sure. At this point, we’re pretty much just trying to make it to the mountains without emptying our wallets, so once again; we booked it to the next major town on the map. We had decided to skip major portions of the TCAT and pick it up closer to the mountains, assuming the prairies wouldn’t be very scenic and knowing that we could cover more ground on highways. People say it’s like driving across Kansas or Oklahoma. But that’s not true. There is some beautiful scenery out there. Miles and miles of rolling hills and canola fields. Canada’s not all bad.
Canada, here we come! After staying a night near Duluth, we got the jeep all cleaned up and presentable for our first border crossing at Thunder Bay. We were giddy and nervous. If the border patrol decided they don’t like the looks of us, they could hold us up in customs for hours, searching the jeep for who knows what. With Brian’s hand tattoos and general distaste for authority, we thought it best to let Carley drive us through.
After a few questions about who we are, what we do for a living and what we’re doing in Canada, the officer asked about weapons or anything to declare. Brian mentions that we have a can of bear mace and asks if we need to declare it. Officer asks to see it. ******t, it’s locked up in the tent. “Pull over, we’ll need to take a look”.
Ugh, here we go. This is the part where they turn the entire jeep upside down and we’ll be left to piece the puzzle back together. We pulled off, popped the tent, fetched the mace and Carley took the can inside where she was immediately dismissed. “We’re free to go?” Free to go. We stowed the can in a more convenient spot, closed up the tent and we were on our way!
By no means were we expecting Canada to be a culture shock: every one speaks English, cars drive on the right side of the road, etc. The little things, though, were slightly exciting. Such as converting kilometers to miles, Celsius to Fahrenheit and getting cash from the ATM (Canadian money is pretty cool compared to the US dollar).
That evening, we checked into a KOA near Thunder Bay to get our plan together and figure out where we want to pick up the TCAT (Trans Canadian Adventure Trail). Good lord, we couldn’t believe how expensive it was. $40 for a tent site!? Whatever. We wanted to use their wifi and showers, so we paid. This was the first of many times we would cringe at the price tag on everything across Canada. Everything is more expensive there and we’re on a serious budget. Gas was over $5/gal. Already we were debating heading back to the US just to cover some ground, feeling our money would be better spent exploring distant lands, and exotic rainforests that we probably would never make it back to. Would it be worth spending loads of extra cash to see the most boring parts of Canada? We really wanted to see the Canadian Rockies, but they were days away…
The next morning, we headed west and got our first ever close up of a moose near the side of the road. Okay, maybe we’ll stay in Canada a little while longer.
(We didn't take very many pictures of this portion of the trip. So enjoy this moose!)
In the states, you can camp for free pretty much anywhere you want on National Forest or BLM land. It’s a bit different in Canada. Feeling stressed about money, we wanted to cover some ground, so we drove all day and ended up a couple hours east of Winnipeg in a small town called Kenora and camped at The Willows campground. Judging from the surrounding campgrounds and RV parks, we weren’t expecting much, but this place was lovely! Our campsite even came with two deck chairs facing the sunset and it cost less than the over crowded KOA. Score!
A fellow Cincinnatian, who happened to be camping a few sites over, came to chat us up about our rig. We were cooking Cincinnati style chili (if you’ve never had it, it looks gross, but tastes amazing) but he hardly noticed. He and his friend were riding bicycles from Vancouver, BC to Thunder Bay, ON. We swapped stories, shook hands and parted ways. That was nice.
Wake up, make coffee and head out.
Being fans of bands like Propagandhi and The Weakerthans, we were excited to get to Winnipeg. So we hopped on the Trans Canada Highway and pulled into town around 2pm. Found a bar downtown and had a couple beers and then walked around trying to get a feel for the place. It was feeling rather dull and we were still really stressed about money, so we decided to head back east a few miles to a campground called Birds Hill Provincial Park. Listening to The Weakerthans’ “One Great City!”, really getting it now.
This was not the nicest place we’ve ever camped, by far. Everyone was packed right on top of one another and we were clearly in the wrong spot for a quiet night of wine and scrabble. No, this was party town. Folks were hootin’ and hollerin’ all night. Ever seen Trailer Park Boys? Yeah, it was like that. Oh well, it was entertaining, to say the least.
Have we mentioned that we’re stressed about money? Did we touch on how expensive Canada is? Okay, just making sure. At this point, we’re pretty much just trying to make it to the mountains without emptying our wallets, so once again; we booked it to the next major town on the map. We had decided to skip major portions of the TCAT and pick it up closer to the mountains, assuming the prairies wouldn’t be very scenic and knowing that we could cover more ground on highways. People say it’s like driving across Kansas or Oklahoma. But that’s not true. There is some beautiful scenery out there. Miles and miles of rolling hills and canola fields. Canada’s not all bad.