Thunder Bay

Well, it was a long haul, but I made it here. And let me tell you... it was easily one of the most beautiful stretches of road I have ever seen. Hundreds of little lakes and streams, and ancient, weathered and carved foot hills lay dormant like fallen obelisks. The range of blue and green is indescribable. The road quickly changed from flat and straight to graded curves, and back again. This was a good thing since it allowed for passing of the 18 wheelers on a semi-regular basis. Interesting system of roads... 90% of the time Rt 17 is 2 lanes; but occasionally they add a third (often times a 2 way shared passing lane). Then it's back to catching the next group of cars, or admiring the scenery, or trying to drive with your knees while snapping pics from a moving vehicle. The number of times I rounded a bend and thought "wow! Look at THAT..." really highlighted the whole experience. Lake Superior looked absolutely beautiful from up here.
I guess I expected to be able to see it the whole way, and get bored of it, but it was broken up, and kept popping back into view. Each time, it looked a different, more beautiful shade of blue. I was kind of surprised to see people sunning on sandy beaches on a multitude of little and bigger lakes. Rarely was there a campground, rest area or parking lot associated with it. It seems like up here, if you can find a spot to park your vehicle... you are welcome to hang out a bit; and chances are, you'll be undisturbed, since the theme is to find your own little nook in Ontario heaven.
Even though Christian is well on his way back into his comfort zone, I did have some company for the long haul yesterday. I was a bit hesitant, but picked up a hitch hiker. There are a LOT of them up here. Len (Leonard 'skynyrd' Franklin) quickly set my mind at ease. He introduced himself, and quickly thanked me for picking him up. He was thinking that it was only a matter of minutes before he was harassed by the O.P.P. (Ontario Province Police?). I asked if that happened a lot. "Every time" he quickly replied. He went on to describe the 30 minute routine... a few questions, ID check, province/canadian background and/or outstanding warrant check, and search of his person and possessions. Safe to say he's probably not carrying anything.
He's a native of P.E.I., and is on his way to some little town in Manitoba where a friend has a job for him. I'd say he's in his late forties/early fifties, has been a gypsy of sorts for most of his life, and is still capable of hiking 20 miles a day with 50 lbs of gear. His 3 kids are all off on their own in different parts of North America, and he just keeps on 'truckin' so to speak.
He fills me in on a bunch of local info along the way... He's hitched or hiked this stretch before. He points out the spots he camped out at, knows distances to the next gas station, and even shares his deep routed fears of the one place he wants to avoid being stuck in at all costs. Wawa is the name of the 'town?'. Notorious and well known to regulars of the thumb up crew. The story goes: A couple of hitch hikers from the East (Quebec or Montreal) got stuck there, finally hitched a ride with a nun, and then proceeded to expedite her passage to the next life. I guess few people pcik up hitch hikers around there, and leather tramps try to stay out, or blow through at all costs. "you could be stuck there for a week or more" he quickly adds. 'Stuck' takes on a new meaning out here. There are no shortcuts, population is sparse, and the distances between habitable areas are pretty hard core. He's been stuck before. A couple of days here, a few days there. We pass another little town, and he tells me about this guy he met last time he came through. The guy had gotten stuck there, found a job, and ended up staying. That was 23 years ago. I kind of wonder where it was he was original going...
We hit the KOA just before Thunder Bay in time to check in, pop the tent and make dinner. Someone had given him a couple of ribeyes that morning, and he offered to share his meat with me, since he had no way to cook it properly. The steaks were probably choice grade (restaurant quality) and still a bit frozen in the center, but I am MASTER of the flame. While I was cooking, he chatted up the neighbors, and quickly picked up on of their guitars and played a few tunes. The air was soon filled with JHonny Cash, CCR and Allman Bros tunes, as well as the aroma of grilled meat. Most of the campers here are locals. Not quite sure why they would rather pay $35 for a campsite rather than throw a weekend party at their houses, but they seemed to be having a good time, and do this regularly.
One of the Elder regulars was telling me about his son who is one of the few brain cancer survivors around. He lost different parts of his memory, skills and abilities, and will probably never fully recover; but is "working for free" at a local hotel. He does get a disability income, but wants and needs to feel like he is working. He doesn't want a free ride, and is fortunate enough to know a vast majority of the local population. He is more of of them now than ever before... he's a fighter, a winner, one of the few. Kind of fitting that a few miles from here was the finish line for the great Terry Fox. A national hero and icon from 30 years ago. His legacy obviously has left a deep impact on this area.

Since it is raining and I would like to see the area in a bright light, I think I will stay another day