My Ontario Outdoor Adventures: January 2026

Here is the route of my trip:

YouTube video showing provincial parks in Ontario and national forests in the USA where I camped while driving to and from Minnesota is available below:

DRIVING FROM ONTARIO TO MINNESOTA

The day before my departure, on August 7, 2023, Chris—who was staying at my place for another month—helped me pack the car, always the least pleasant task before any trip. This time, I was also taking my bike with me. I carefully attached the bike carrier to the back of the car and mounted the bike. Even though I had never experienced any problems before, I decided to take extra precautions: I attached two additional straps connecting the bike to the roof rack. That way, if the bike somehow became detached from the carrier, it would not be lost immediately, as the straps would hold it for a while.

Amazing rainbow appeared the day before my departure!

Later that day, there was a thunderstorm and rain, but once it passed, I saw a beautiful, perfectly formed rainbow. I took it as a good portent for the journey ahead.

The next day, August 8, 2023, just before leaving, Chris and I stood in front of my 1993 Toyota Corolla while my mother took a few photos of us. There was a reason for this. I bought the car in June 1993—exactly 30 years earlier—and Chris had accompanied me to the dealership when I picked it up. At that time, the dealer, Gary M., took a photo of the two of us standing in front of the brand-new car.

I can't believe that 30 years ago I bought this car! It was one of the best purchases of my life. When I sold it in November, 2023, its odometer read 200,019 km.

In 2018, when the car turned 25, I looked up Gary M. online and sent him an email to mark the anniversary. He was pleased to hear that the car had been so reliable. Now, five years later, I wanted to send him another email—this time with a photo of Chris, me, and the Toyota Corolla, which had just turned 30. Incidentally, my mother had been driving the car since 2002 and loved it. I can also add that I sold the Corolla on November 14, 2023 for $2,000—and the buyer was very satisfied!

This in the intersection of Highway 69 (soon 400) and Road 522 in 2023, where we purchased our canoe...

I left before noon and took Highway 407, avoiding the dreaded Highway 401, which more often than not resembles a parking lot. I stopped at Tim Hortons just south of King City, then bought cold beer at the LCBO in Pointe au Baril, a place where I often stop to rest or even take a short nap. My next stop was at the intersection of Highway 69 (soon to become Highway 400) and Road 522.

... and the same place in 2010, just minutes after Catherine and I purchased our canoe!

The southeast corner of that intersection is now an empty lot (45°54'47.8"N 80°34'20.3"W / 45.913278, -80.572306). Not long ago, however, the Grundy Lake Supply Post, along with a gas station, stood there. Due to the expansion of Highway 400, the property was expropriated. The owner was compensated and relocated the business about one kilometer east, directly in front of the entrance to Grundy Lake Provincial Park.

Chutes Provincial Park, Ontario. Campsite #66

That place holds many memories. In the past, Catherine and I had often stopped at the Supply Post to rent canoes, buy gas, or have ice cream. On July 28, 2010, we even purchased a Scott 17-foot canoe there. Needless to say, it turned out to be an excellent decision, and we enjoyed innumerable amazing canoe trips as a result. I met the owner several times afterward when I visited the business, often with the canoe strapped to the roof of the car.

Seney, Michigan

My final stop that day was Chutes Provincial Park, which had always been my first overnight stop when driving to Minnesota. A few days earlier, I had checked the Ontario Parks reservation website and noticed that there were very few vacant campsites available for August 8—even though it was a Tuesday. I booked a campsite just in case, and it turned out to be a very wise decision. When I arrived, a sign announced that the park was full.

My campsite, number 66 (46°13'03.4"N 82°04'26.5"W / 46.217600, -82.074020), was quite nice. After setting up the tent, I went to my “chair” carved into the rock, where I had often enjoyed sitting—reading, watching the scenery, listening to the falls, and even taking short naps. Nearby, a young fellow was operating a remote-controlled miniature 4×4 truck. I watched for a while, amazed at how well the vehicle climbed steep rocks. It was clearly not a cheap children’s toy, but rather a high-end version belonging to the category of “toys for big boys.”

Colwell Lake Campground in Hiawatha National Forest. The information board and payment station.

I slept well and was up early the next morning. After packing up, I quickly made my way toward Sault Ste. Marie—one city in Canada and the other in Michigan, connected by an impressive bridge (46°30'23.5"N 84°21'41.9"W / 46.506528, -84.361639). I did not have to wait long at U.S. Customs. After a few perfunctory questions, the officer asked me about Mississauga and correctly guessed that many people of Polish origin lived there.

The first thing I did in the U.S. was buy gas. I then stopped at the Michigan Welcome Center, chatted with a very friendly employee, and picked up a few maps. After driving south on Interstate 75—where the speed limit was 75 mph (120 km/h)—I exited and continued west on Road 28, a route I had driven many times before. Traffic was very light, making the drive particularly pleasant.

I took a short break at Seney Party Store, one of those roadside places I really enjoy checking out. After chatting briefly with the salesperson and buying cold beer, I continued to Shingleton, turned left onto Road 94, and soon entered Colwell Lake Campground in Hiawatha National Forest, which I was visiting for the first time.

Armstrong Creek in Wisconsin and St. Stanislaus Kostka Church. Most of its residents are of Polish origin

The information post contained all the necessary details. Most campsites were occupied, and some could be reserved online or by phone. Unfortunately, my phone did not work in the U.S.—Canadian cell plans that include U.S. coverage are expensive, and realistically I would only need that option for about 6–10 days per year, so it doesn’t make much sense for me.

However, I noticed that the camp host had attached information stickers to each campsite showing occupation dates. I drove to the host’s site, but no one was there. Instead, he had left a very helpful note:

“Open Sites, Wednesday, August 9. #23, 26. 1 night only. Walk-in. #33, 34.”

I chose campsite #26 (46°13'07.9"N 86°26'24.4"W / 46.218850, -86.440117). The sticker confirmed that it was reserved from August 10 to 14. I filled out the Recreation Fee Permit (amount, arrival and departure dates, number of people, vehicles, license number, name, and type of use), placed $22.00 into the envelope, and deposited it into the metal payment box—officially becoming a legal occupant of the campground. Kudos to the campground hosts for keeping everything so well organized and making the check-in process easy.

Colwell Lake Campground, campsite #26

While driving the tent pegs into the ground, I discovered that the soil was extremely hard. I needed either a rock—which I couldn’t find—or a hammer, which I borrowed from campers on the adjacent site. I went for a walk around the campground; it was very nice, and I wished I could have stayed longer. Back at the campsite, I had a cold beer, read a book, and went to my tent around 9:30 p.m.

Eastwood Campground, campsite #5

I left Colwell Lake Campground before 10:00 a.m. and drove south to Manistique, then turned right onto Highway 2 and continued on Highway 41 to Escanaba. There, I stopped at Walmart, bought a bowl of prepared fresh salad, and finally had access to Wi-Fi. I sent a few emails and messages home and to Catherine, then visited the nearby Aldi before continuing west on Highways 2 and 41 to Spalding.

In Spalding, I stopped at Veterans Park Campground, which I had discovered the year before. There was also a sheltered picnic area, perfect for large gatherings—or, in my case, a quiet lunch stop. I drove through the campground and noticed that all the campsites were vacant. Several were quite nice and located close to the water. At $10 per night (I believe the fee increased by 50% to $15 in 2025), it would have been a perfectly acceptable place to camp.

Eastwood Campground, campsite #5

In Norway, I took Highway 8 south and then west, passing through Pembine, Dunbar, Goodman, Armstrong Creek (with many residents of Polish descent—see my blog, Laona, Rhinelander, Tripoli, Ogema, and Westboro—small rural communities, each with a rich history.

At Westboro, I was supposed to turn right toward Chequamegon–Nicolet National Forest, but I realized I was running dangerously low on fuel. Not wanting to risk problems in a remote area, I continued to Rib Lake, filled up at the Mobil station, and then drove back toward the forest.

Eastwood Campground, Information Board and payment station

As I retraced my route on Road 102—less than ten minutes after driving it in the opposite direction—I encountered a grim sight: a deer lying in the middle of the road, or rather what remained of it. It must have been struck moments earlier. Unfortunately, every year I see dozens of dead deer along roads. On several occasions, I have seen deer cross directly in front of my car or stand motionless near the roadside. This is one of the main reasons I avoid driving at night; no matter how careful one is, collisions are sometimes unavoidable.

Welcome to Lublin!

Following my GPS, I arrived at Eastwood Campground, which was almost empty except for the hosts’ campsite—though they were away. The payment system was identical to the one at Colwell Lake, with the only difference being the fee: $15 per night. I chose campsite #5 (45°19'55.4"N 90°26'48.8"W / 45.332050, -90.446900).

After setting up the tent, I drove around the campground to deposit the payment envelope and looked at the remaining campsites. They were all quite nice, and I would happily stay there again. With little to do and no one to talk to, I read a book until dusk and then went to bed, falling asleep quickly.

Earlier that day, an unusual incident had occurred. While driving through a small community, I stopped to look around and noticed an old, empty, decrepit commercial building—likely awaiting demolition. I found it visually interesting and took a few photos.

Suddenly, a truck sped toward me, and someone began shouting. It turned out to be the owner of the building, furious that I was photographing it without permission. His behavior struck me as strange. I was standing on a public sidewalk and had every legal right to photograph the building.

St. Mary's Church in Lublin, Wisconsin

In Canada, I had encountered similar situations before and calmly stood my ground. But here I was in a remote area of the U.S., without a working phone, and the context felt very different. Instead of arguing, I shook his hand, introduced myself, explained that I hadn’t seen anyone to ask, told him I had a blog, and said that I found the structure interesting. I even apologized. Almost immediately, his demeanor changed. He calmed down, briefly mentioned the history of the community, and then drove off.

Orthodox Church in Lublin, WI

Ironically, my dashcam had recorded the building anyway. I later found an excellent image of it on Google Street View. Within two years, the building was gone entirely. In the end, I didn’t even like my own photo and never posted it—yet the building remains visible online to millions. Questioning photography of public buildings in 2023 feels like an anachronism.

Since 1982, I have visited Poland, Warsaw, Wilno, and Poniatowski—the first three in Ontario, Canada, and the last one in Wisconsin. On this day, I was about to visit yet another “Polish” town.

St. Stanislaus Church in Lublin, Wisconsin

It rained during the night, but my waterproof tent performed perfectly. After leaving the campground, I headed south and soon entered the village of Lublin, Wisconsin (45°04'30.2"N 90°43'34.5"W / 45.075056, -90.726250), named after the city of Lublin in Poland.

Lublin, Wisconsin

According to Wikipedia, Polish immigrants began settling in the area in the late 19th century. The 1905 census recorded 275 residents in the town of Roosevelt (the future Lublin), with 80% of household heads reporting Poland, Poland-Russia, or Poland-Germany as their birthplace. The arrival of the railroad in the early 20th century transformed the town. Schools, saloons, and a general store followed. In 1908, All Saints Catholic Church and Holy Assumption Orthodox Church were built, and in 1926, St. Mary’s Polish National Catholic Church was established.

Lublin, Wisconsin

All three churches were still standing during my visit, although the Catholic church had been renamed St. Stanislaus Church. The village also had an American Legion branch, a post office, stores, and a memorial park featuring an old tank. An information board explained that in 2018, a “Freedom Tree” (a white oak) had been planted to commemorate veterans of the Abramowicz, Kaczmarczyk, and Cwikla Legion Post #547, as well as veterans of the Second Republic of Poland and the United States.

Lublin, WI. Memorial Park

Even though I spent well over an hour in Lublin, I hardly saw any passersby and had no chance to even say hello to anyone. Despite taking many photos, no one questioned my activities this time.

From Lublin, I took Road 73 south, then turned right onto Highway 29 west, which eventually merged with Interstate 94 toward Minneapolis. I exited in Menomonie and parked at Walmart (44°54'38.6"N 91°55'54.5"W / 44.910722, -91.931806), which since 2019 has become an almost de rigueur stop. I used Wi-Fi to call Catherine and update her on my location, bought salad at Walmart, then drove a short distance to Aldi and a large Goodwill store across the street—three useful and inexpensive stores conveniently located next to one another.

Legion Hall in Lublin, Wisconsin

It was extremely hot and humid—over +33°C—and thunderstorms were expected. I heard news reports warning of golf-ball-sized hail and severe storms. The clouds around me looked ominous, but the most serious warnings were for areas north of Minneapolis–St. Paul. Traffic worsened as I approached the city, but I finally arrived after 7:00 p.m., warmly welcomed by Catherine, who was waiting for me in front of her house.

VICTORIA AND MINNEAPOLIS

The next day we went to a huge store called Menards in Eden Prairie. The selection was overwhelming. I picked up a few LED lights as well as a very powerful LED flashlight with an impressive output of 15,000 lumens. I should add that I have been using this flashlight on all my camping trips ever since, and it can literally turn night into day.

Catherine's backyard

On August 16, 2023, we drove to The Café Meow (2323 Hennepin Ave. S.—although it relocated to a new location just a few days later). In addition to having a cup of coffee and something to eat, customers could, for an extra fee, enter an adjoining room and play with a number of cats. However, we did not take advantage of this opportunity and instead simply watched other customers interacting with the cats.

This poster was hanging over my bed, so I had to read it each morning and evening

Just across from the café stood the Thomas Lowry Memorial (44°57'34.1"N 93°17'38.9"W / 44.959472, -93.294139), honoring Thomas Lowry (1843–1909), who led the Twin City Rapid Transit Company.

Thomasa Lowry Monument

Vis-à-vis the memorial stood Temple Israel (2323 Fremont Avenue South, 44°57'33.6"N 93°17'40.9"W / 44.959333, -93.294694), a Reform Jewish synagogue. Founded in 1878, it is the oldest synagogue in Minneapolis and one of the largest Jewish congregations in the United States. I wished I could have gone inside, but we did not have much time, and I believe the building was closed.

Temple Israel

Some two years later, I discovered several YouTube videos featuring an amazing singer full of positive energy—Leah Kalisch. I found a number of songs by this multilingual and multi-talented performer absolutely outstanding, especially Az Der Rebbe Zingt and Tumbalalaika.

Both were sung in Yiddish, and I loved listening to them over and over again. Guess where these performances were filmed—they took place at Temple Israel in Minneapolis. I also want to add that I was completely blown away by another one of her songs, Shtetl Neshume.

Catherine near the synagogue

I also went with Catherine, as her guest, to her fitness club—Life Time in Chanhassen, located next to the company’s head office and not far from Paisley Park, Prince’s studio, where he also passed away. During my visit, I swam over 1.5 km, then spent about 30 minutes enjoying the whirlpool and the sauna.

Aldi, Catherine's favourite store (and mine too)

In addition, I tried to exercise daily. I had brought with me a thick yoga mat and elastic resistance bands. I also had a Chromebook, which I had purchased shortly before leaving Canada. It was already 50% off, and I received additional discounts because it was a display model without packaging or instructions.

In any case, I was extremely impressed with it. The battery life exceeded 10 hours, it was quite fast, and it allowed me to browse the internet, read newspapers, write emails, and compose blog posts.

Excelsior, Minnesota

I also maintained my subscription to the Wall Street Journal and spent at least one hour each day reading the current issue of this very interesting newspaper.

The Chromebook turned out to be very useful, especially allowed me to read "The Wall Street Journal" every day.

Since Catherine had a camper parked in her driveway, the Munchkins enjoyed playing there. It is a nice camper, with six beds, a kitchen, and a bathroom.

Of course, we also often visited the nearby Minnesota Arboretum, which is an absolutely amazing place. In the fall, the Arboretum transformed into a true autumn wonderland, with gardens full of color and numerous scarecrows on display.

GEOGRAPHICAL NAMES IN MINNESOTA

I was wondering why so many places in Minnesota start with “Minne.” Apparently, they all have one thing in common: the Dakota word “mni” (or “minne”). These names highlight the Dakota people’s deep connection to water, as this word signifies water in their language. After all, the state of Minnesota is called “the Land of 10,000 Lakes.”

Minnesota means “sky-tinted water” or “cloudy water” in the Dakota language. The name is derived from the Dakota name for the Minnesota River, Mní Sóta (or Mníssota), combining “mní” (water) with “sota” (sky-tinted/cloudy).

Minneapolis means “City of Waters,” a blend of the word “mni” (water) and the Greek word “polis” (city). The name reflects the area’s abundance of lakes and its location on the Mississippi River, a vital resource for the Indigenous Dakota people.

Minnehaha means “waterfall” or “curling/rapid water” in the Dakota language, derived from “mní” (water) and “ȟaȟa” (falling/curling). The name is used for places such as Minnehaha Falls in Minneapolis. The common translation “laughing water” is incorrect; the true meaning is “waterfall.”

Minnetonka combines “mní” (water) and “tanka” (big/great), meaning “big water” or “great water.” It originally referred to Lake Minnetonka in Minnesota.

In fact, Lakota/Dakota words like “tanka” (or tȟáŋka) and “tonka” are directly related to “tatanka”, which means bison or buffalo, as tȟáŋka means “great/large,” and tatanka essentially means “their greatness” or “the great one,” signifying the magnificent, life-sustaining animal central to Lakota culture, with Tatonka being a common spelling used by brands inspired by this term.

Minnewaska means “good water” or “beautiful water,” as “waska” means “good” or “beautiful.”

Minneota is a name meaning “much water” or “clear water,” often used for places in Minnesota such as the city of Minneota, and refers to abundant local water sources—for example, clear water in a well or river.

Minnewashta means “good water (for fishing)” and often refers to places with clear, fish-filled lakes, such as Lake Minnewashta near Chanhassen.

Minneopa means “water falling twice,” a beautiful reference to the two-tiered Minneopa Falls in Minneopa State Park near Mankato, Minnesota, where the creek cascades in two distinct drops before flowing into the Minnesota River.

Minnetrista means “twisting water” or “winding/crooked water,” derived from the Dakota words “minne” (water) and “trista” (twisting).

Minnewaska means “good water” or “beautiful water,” from “mini” (water) and “waste” (good).

Minneola means “much water” or “many waters”. The name is derived from the Dakota words “mni” (water) and “ota” (much/many).

LEAVING FOR PARK RAPIDS AND STAYING AT THE CABIN

On August 18, 2023, Catherine and I headed for Park Rapids, some 300 km north, to a cottage—or rather a cabin, as it is called in Minnesota. Of course, we always try to turn even a pedestrian drive into an interesting trip, so Catherine chose a number of secondary roads, avoiding main highways as much as possible.

Fisher’s Club of Avon

On our way, we stopped at a well-known restaurant on a lake that Catherine had read about—Fisher’s Club of Avon (45°36'41.2"N 94°27'20.1"W / 45.611444, -94.455583), home to a famous walleye dinner. Indeed, the place was very nice. We sat on the porch and had a view of the water, where families were fishing. The restaurant had a long and interesting history. I noticed many wooden mailboxes mounted on a wall. These were liquor locker boxes, used regularly during Fisher’s former “bottle club” era, when patrons kept their liquor in them. The restaurant was clearly trying to preserve these historical artifacts.

Liquor locker boxes

We ordered a half rack of BBQ ribs, a walleye sandwich, a margarita, and an IPA beer (the bill was $58.38 US plus tip—yes, prices in the USA, and especially in Minnesota, are much higher than those in Canada; with the tip, the total came to about $94 Canadian). We enjoyed the meal very much.

At the restaurant

Suddenly, a panicked woman rushed up asking for a glass of water. One of the boys had accidentally hooked his friend close to the eye, and there was a lot of blood. Soon, two sheriff’s vehicles arrived, along with paramedics. They were unable to remove the hook from the boy’s face and decided to transport him to a hospital. We chatted briefly with them—they were Filipinos.

The Cabin

We arrived at the cabin quite late. I had imagined a modest, small log cabin with an outhouse, so I was very surprised to see a huge, 3,500-square-foot mansion, with about five bathrooms and a lakefront some 100 meters away. A very luxurious boat and a state-of-the-art jet ski were waiting at the dock. We went to a huge bedroom upstairs, which had two queen-size beds, a small dining table, and plenty of kitchen appliances. I soon learned that Catherine and her daughter preferred to keep meals separate for the kids, so we often ended up eating on the balcony, facing the lake.

I loved the fish on the wall!

Of course, the highlight of our stay at the cabin was the anticipated arrival of Catherine’s grandkids, whom I called the “Munchkins.”

Autumn, a.k.a. Munchkin Senior, was 4½ years old, and Everett, a.k.a. Munchkin Junior, was almost 3 years old. I had met both of them before, although Everett had certainly been too little to remember me.

Catherine (or...Wicked Witch of the West), Munchkin Sr. and Munchkin Jr. enjoying the fire at the cabin

Just below our “bedroom” was a large room. I asked Catherine what kind of room it was.

“Soon it will become a disaster zone,” she said. Boy, was she ever right!

The day after our arrival, we drove to Walmart. Catherine had repeatedly told me that she needed to do shopping for Michelle and her family, and I assumed we would enter the store with a long shopping list and gradually fill the cart with all the required items. Well, I did not realize that I was—how shall I put it—out of step with the modern world. It turned out that Michelle had emailed the shopping list to the store a few days earlier and had already paid for everything. All we had to do was park the car, call the store, and within minutes a young guy appeared with several boxes full of food items!

Munchkin Jr. looks like a dwarf in this oversized outfit!

And speaking of being out of step… whenever I look at today’s technology, or whenever I go to Best Buy, I feel that I truly am out of step. However, I sometimes wonder whether I am one step behind, or perhaps one step ahead, by not using all the latest gadgets and conveniences. Maybe the Amish are right about their simple lifestyle after all?

The arrival of the Munchkins (and their parents) the next day marked the end of our short-lived bliss and serenity. In no time, most rooms became playrooms—true disaster zones—strewn with toys, clothes, and whatever else the kids could get their hands on.

Indeed, this area often resembled a disaster zone!

At times, Michelle and Rob towed the Munchkins on the lake. They sat in a special towable tube with one parent, while the other towed them on the jet ski. They had an absolute blast. After one of the rides, Catherine wrapped Everett in an oversized robe, and he looked like a hooded dwarf straight out of a Disney movie.

For some reason, the Munchkins were quite excited to see me—perhaps Catherine had told them some imaginary stories about “Uncle Jack.” Normally, I wake up around 9:00 a.m., and I fully expected to keep that schedule. I was wrong.

At 6:30 a.m., while still sound asleep, I heard voices and soon felt my bed shaking, as if someone were jumping on it. When I opened my eyes, I could hardly believe what I was seeing: the two smiling Munchkins were jumping on my bed, expecting me to get up and play with them. This scene repeated itself every morning, with the Munchkins cheerfully announcing, “Jack, time to wake up!”

Several times we had a campfire on the lakeshore and grilled delicious lamb ribs. Naturally, the Munchkins enjoyed these activities as well, although they were usually not too eager to stay in one place for very long.

As always, I read several books. I have a particular weakness for books about medicine written by doctors or nurses, so when I spotted Black Man in a White Coat: A Doctor’s Reflections on Race and Medicine by Damon Tweedy, M.D., at one of my favourite bookstores (that is, a thrift shop), I bought it on the spot. The book opened my eyes to many issues I had never really thought about before—especially living in Canada—and I truly enjoyed reading it.

In the chapter titled “Charity Care,” the author refers to a 2005 New York Times article that follows three New Yorkers—one wealthy, one middle class, and one working class—who all suffer heart attacks at roughly the same time. The article compares their very different recoveries: the rich man ends up doing best, the middle-class man struggles through complications, and the working-class woman faces increasingly serious medical and social problems.

I should add that I almost never read The New York Times. Unlike Canadian newspapers, it is not available everywhere, mostly just in downtown Toronto; it is also much more expensive, and for whatever reason I have always preferred The Wall Street Journal. I doubt I have read more than two or three issues of the Times in the past 25 years. And yet—amazingly—I did read the very issue the author mentions. Even more remarkably, I remember that article clearly. It was on the front page, featured photos of all three people, and the “working-class New Yorker” was a Polish woman. After suffering a heart attack, instead of going straight to the hospital, she delayed treatment and tried a “Polish remedy”: she drank a glass of vodka!

MUNCHKINS

I have to say that I had a lot of fun with—and truly enjoyed—the Munchkins. Usually, I would sit quietly on the balcony of my room/bedroom, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, reading the Wall Street Journal on my Chromebook or a book. However, once they spotted me from the lower deck, in less than 30 seconds I had wonderful company!

Usually the Munchkins were down there, while I was up on balcony, trying not to draw their attention, but to no avail!

One morning, Everett came to me very early and woke me up. Still half asleep, I started talking to him and asked about Catherine (whom I often call “Pumpkin”). “Everett, where is Pumpkin? Can you go to her and ask her to come upstairs?”

Later, Catherine told me that Everett went to her, visibly upset, his lips pursed into a horseshoe shape, and said, “Jack called me pumpkin!” Cathy explained to him that I did not call him Pumpkin—I had called her Pumpkin—and hoped that he believed her. She said his facial expression and the way he said it were absolutely priceless!

I was also admiring their hair (as compared to mine—or whatever was left of it). “Autumn, you have such beautiful hair! Can you give me some?” I asked. Without hesitation, she grabbed a lock of her hair and offered it to me.

When I asked Everett the same question, he decisively said “No!” and ran away from me, looking slightly scared, as if I were about to shave his head! That was the last time I brought up that subject with him.

Autumn was also confused when I sometimes called Catherine “Cathy,” “Kitty,” or “Pumpkin.” I tried to explain why I used different nicknames, but she still looked puzzled. Eventually, she declared, quite decisively, “She is Nana.”

Autumn selling imaginary ice cream for $15 a scoop!

For a while, Autumn participated in a weekly kids’ program at an outdoor educational center. The place was absolutely gorgeous—surrounded by forest, just meters from a lake, and even featuring a collection of live animals in terrariums that the kids could observe and learn about. Catherine and I picked up Autumn after the program and, after spending some time hiking in the nearby forest, she went to the playground, where she pretended to sell us ice cream—demanding exorbitant prices of $15 per scoop! Fortunately, I was smart enough to hand her my credit card.

When Catherine went to the car, I suggested that Autumn offer ice cream to her as well.
“Let’s call her,” I said, and started shouting toward Catherine,
“Kitty! Pumpkin! Would you like to buy some ice cream?”
Immediately, Autumn joined in:
“Kee-tee! Pup-kin! Would you like ice cream?”
Clearly, when it came to making even imaginary money, she was perfectly willing to use any name that might attract a customer!

Inside the camper

When we were in the car, the Munchkins sat in their special seats just behind us and generally behaved quite well. Of course, there were occasional squabbles between them, or requests to stop at various “attractions” (such as Treasure City on the way to the cabin), but overall we did not have too many problems.

Once, Catherine and I were engaged in conversation, and when she said something that I found amusing, I exclaimed, “Oh my God!” Suddenly, the previously quiet Munchkins began alternately mimicking me:
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!”
We burst out laughing.

At one store, I bought a very good electric juicer, which I immediately put to use, juicing lemons and oranges. When Autumn spotted it, she was eager to help. Despite her small hands, she did an excellent job operating the juicer—and even took several sips of lemon juice!

THE TRUMP STORE

Between Park Rapids and Nevis, just off Lake County Scenic Byway 34, was the Trump Store—certainly one of the most intriguing stores in the area. There were tons of Trump-related merchandise: stickers, key chains, T-shirts, flags, magnets, hats, souvenirs, and more. Among the items were “White Privilege Cards” (similar to credit cards), which I even considered buying ($14 each).

In front of the Trump Store near Nevis, MN

Just one week earlier, on August 24, 2023, Donald Trump had been indicted on racketeering and related charges. When he voluntarily surrendered to authorities at the Fulton County Jail in Atlanta, Georgia, a mug shot was taken. It immediately became an iconic image of the former president (who, of course, would win the upcoming election), and the store already had T-shirts featuring this famous photograph.

I spoke with an employee (possibly the owner) working in the store and mentioned that Trump’s mug shot strongly resembled another famous photograph— Winston Churchill’s “Roaring Lion”, taken in 1941 by the Armenian-Canadian photographer Yousuf Karsh. The photograph was taken in the Centre Block on Parliament Hill in Ottawa, Ontario, after Churchill delivered his famous “Some chicken, some neck” speech on World War II to Canadian members of Parliament.

There is a fascinating story behind that image. Karsh was given only two minutes for the photo session, and Churchill was not particularly enthusiastic about posing. Karsh asked the Prime Minister to put down his cigar, explaining that the smoke would interfere with the image. Churchill refused. Just before taking the photograph, Karsh quickly stepped forward and said, “Forgive me, sir,” as he snatched the cigar from Churchill’s mouth. Karsh later recalled, “By the time I got back to the camera, he looked so belligerent, he could have devoured me.” Churchill’s scowl has since been described as “a fierce glare as if confronting the enemy.”

After the photo was taken, Churchill reportedly remarked, “You can even make a roaring lion stand still to be photographed,” giving the image its famous name. Incidentally, this photograph—one of the 20th century’s most iconic portraits—effectively launched Karsh’s international career (Wikipedia).
At the back of the store, there were even more Trump products, along with antique vehicles and various other curiosities.

AKELEY

We had briefly visited this small community in 2019, mainly to check out a huge thrift store. Naturally, we drove there again—not specifically to see the store this time, but to park the car and go for a bike ride to Nevis and back, as the Heartland State Trail ran alongside the road.

The ARCC (Akeley Regional Community Center) Thrift Store, operating out of the old Akeley school building, was one of the largest thrift stores in Northern Minnesota. In addition to clothes, furniture, and a wide array of household items, it had a massive section devoted to books and DVDs. For just $2 or $5, I could fill a large bag with as many books and DVDs as I could squeeze in—so it is no surprise that I brought quite a few back to Canada!
I also found many other useful items, including sunglasses, USB cables, binoculars, a brand-new CD player, and various other knick-knacks. There were even free tomatoes left in the vestibule. They must have been grown in a private garden, because they were delicious—I am a big tomato eater and can immediately tell the difference. The staff, by the way, were very pleasant, helpful, and always willing to engage customers in friendly conversation.

Akeley is known as the birthplace of Paul Bunyan (I wrote about him in my blog. To emphasize this distinction, the town features a 25-foot (7.5-meter) tall statue of a kneeling Paul Bunyan next to a giant cradle. Right beside the statue was the Akeley Paul Bunyan Historical Museum, which happened to be open during our visit.

We were quite lucky to meet Mr. Frank Lamb Sr., president of the Paul Bunyan Historical Society, also known as “Mr. Akeley.” He was a very charming gentleman who briefly told us about the town’s origins. Akeley had once been a major logging town, with a sawmill that was among the largest in the state of Minnesota. Because of the mill and the construction of a train depot in 1899, Akeley became a boomtown. Lumberjacks arrived and departed on nearly every freight train, and the population swelled from 2,000 to over 3,500 between 1907 and 1908 (by 2023, it was only a fraction of that). That rapid growth was likely one of the reasons the legend of Paul Bunyan took root there.

Inside the museum, we saw old graduation photos from Akeley Secondary School—the very building that now houses the thrift store. Mr. Lamb told us that his father (or perhaps his grandfather) had worked on the construction of the railway, which was later removed and replaced by a recreational trail—the same trail on which we often rode our bikes. I found that rather ironic: the grandfather built the railway, the son rode on it, and the grandson helped remove the tracks and now bikes or walks along the former rail line.

Before we left, Mr. Lamb sat down at a piano and played for a few seconds. What a wonderful man!

Due to major construction on the main street, we had to take detours, which probably “forced” us to see other parts of town. Akeley once had a Catholic church—the building was still standing, though no longer serving as a church. Nearby, in front of a house, stood a skeleton some three or four meters tall—either a Halloween decoration or perhaps Paul Bunyan’s remains?
As I was strolling through Akeley, I noticed a group of people sitting around a table, having drinks. A sign visible from the road read, “You honk, we drink.” I spoke with them briefly and took a few photos.

BIKE RIDES

We often drove to various parks, towns, and communities and went on bike rides—Minnesota has an impressive network of excellent biking trails.
In Bemidji, we took a few photos in front of the Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox statues and stopped at the nearby information center, which featured oversized items supposedly belonging to Paul Bunyan, “proving” that he really did exist! You can read more about this legendary figure in my blog.

Later, we walked around town and then rode our bikes along Lake Bemidji to Bemidji State Park on the Blue Ox Trail.

In 2019, while having lunch in Bemidji State Park, I had seen a beautiful Pileated Woodpecker. It must have been accustomed to people, as it stayed around for quite some time, completely ignoring me and everyone else. What a wonderful surprise it was to see another Pileated Woodpecker during this visit as well! It was equally comfortable around people, and I would not be surprised if it was the same bird we had seen four years earlier.

Of course, we also drove to Itasca State Park, where we rode for some time on nearby forest roads and trails. Once again, we reached the Mississippi Headwaters.

There was a lovely bike trail along the southeast shore of Pike Bay, running from the South Pike Bay Campground to the Norway Beach Visitor Center, which unfortunately was closed. We also went to the Canal House Restaurant & Lounge, located between Pike Bay and Cass Lake, and spoke with the owners about its history as well as about Stony Point Resort, established in 1939.

The source of the Mississippi River in Minnesota

We often parked the car in Akeley, very close to the museum, and then rode on the Heartland State / Paul Bunyan Trail toward Walker and then to Nevis, where we stopped at the Iron Horse Bar & Grill for a glass of delicious cold beer.

Another easy bike ride was from Park Rapids to Dorset along the Heartland State Trail. Although the population of Dorset is only 22, it is known as the “Restaurant Capital of the World” because of its unusually high number of restaurants.

While staying in Victoria, Catherine and I went biking every day on one of the many trails in her area. One of them—the Lake Minnetonka LRT Regional Trail—passed very close to her home. Long ago, it had been the Minneapolis and St. Louis Railway. We also visited nearby communities. The trail ran through Excelsior, a very pleasant town, where we often stopped for beer, coffee, or dessert at one of its restaurants.

Excelsior also offered trolley trips along a half-mile of track built on the former right-of-way of the Minneapolis and St. Louis Railway. The Lake Minnetonka LRT Regional Trail ran parallel to the tracks along this section, so we rode there many times.

At the Boathouse Restaurant

Since Carver Park Reserve is almost adjacent to Catherine’s home and features numerous paved trails, we rode there frequently. The park has a couple of campgrounds, including campsites reserved exclusively for bike riders, as well as group campsites.

The Dakota Regional Rail Trail follows an old railroad route through Minnesota’s countryside. We usually rode it from Mound to almost Wayzata. The Andrews Sisters—Patty, Maxene, and LaVerne—spent summers in Mound as children from 1918 through 1931, returning to visit at least one week each July. They visited their uncles Pete and Ed Sollie at their small grocery store, often went to the Mound Casino, and relaxed at the Mound swimming beach, reminiscing about their childhood.

The old Tonka Toys Main Plant and the remnants of railways in Mound, Minnesota

Mound was also the birthplace of the Tonka Truck, named after Lake Minnetonka. The former Tonka Toys Main Plant was located at 5300 Shoreline Blvd in Mound. The building is still standing and is now used for multiple commercial and industrial purposes, housing several businesses. The original Tonka factory closed in 1991 after the company was acquired by Hasbro and manufacturing was moved elsewhere. The building is adjacent to the Dakota Trail, and abandoned train tracks still lead toward it.

We also spent time biking on various trails in Chaska, Shakopee, and Eden Prairie. As you can see, Minnesota truly has a vast number of excellent trails, well suited for both walking and biking.

PARK RAPIDS

We had visited Park Rapids in 2019, and I remembered its unusually wide main street. At first, I thought there was a major traffic jam, with two rows of cars stopped in the middle of the street. It turned out they were actually parked there—the street was simply that wide! The reason was quite practical: in the days when the lumber industry dominated the local economy, horse-drawn wagons hauling logs needed enough space to turn around easily, so the street was built extra wide.

Park Rapids, the main street with parking in the middle

We visited several thrift shops in town. One of them, Bearly Used Thrift Shop, yielded several good books for me, while Catherine managed to fill a shopping buggy to the brim with amazing items. I mentioned to the manager that there is a bookstore in Parry Sound, Canada, called Bearly Used Books. Another interesting store was The Depot, which also had a wealth of excellent items—I bought several audiobooks, as I enjoy listening to them while exercising.

Both stores were operated by the Hubbard County Developmental Achievement Center, which provided training and job opportunities for people with developmental disabilities and mental illness.

Each time we were in Park Rapids, we visited the Park Rapids Library. It had withdrawn books for sale, as well as a dedicated section of books that visitors could take and return at any time.

A couple of times, Catherine and I took the Munchkins to the playground at Depot Park. While we were loading the car, Everett insisted that we bring all his toy lawn mowers. Michelle had to physically stop him—though not before he managed to load at least five of them into the car!

When we went there for the first time, as soon as Catherine unbuckled them from their seats, the Munchkins ran straight to the playground equipment and immediately began climbing. Within moments, both were several meters above the ground. I was not sure whether they were even supposed to be doing that, but clearly they loved it.

The Munchkins at Depot Park in Park Rapids

I brought my cell phone and gimbal so I could “practice” making videos of them. Later, I transferred the videos and some photos to a USB stick and gave it to Catherine.

Once, we went to McDonald’s in town with Autumn. I ended up with twice as much food for less than half the money.

We often went to Walmart and to Dollar Tree, which carried many interesting and practical items that are much more expensive in Canada.

Catherine was also looking forward to shopping at Aldi in Park Rapids, which was under construction at the time.

Munchkins playing in corn

One day, we went—with the Munchkins—to a farm, where they could play in corn pits. Such farms often offer hay rides, petting zoos, and many other attractions.

EMMAVILLE

While driving from the cabin along County Road 4, we stopped in Emmaville (47°03'55.7"N 94°58'54.3"W / 47.065472, -94.981750), at the intersection of County Roads 4 and 24.

We went to Emmaville Crossing, which offered cozy accommodations at the Emmaville Inn, and included a grocery store, a gas station, and the Emmaville Café & Bar, where we decided to have lunch. It was a pleasant place, with only a couple of other diners at the time.

After our meal, I walked around and noticed a sign on the building that read: “The Biggest Little Town in the World. Population 4.”

Just across the road stood a large, school-like building with a prominent sign: “University of Emmaville.” I do not know what kind of programs it offers or what degrees it confers, as I could not find much information about it online. However, I am sure that its remote location—right in the middle of nowhere—alone makes it a fine educational institution!

BEMIDJI, LEECH LAKE, CASINO

Lake George, a very small community on U.S. Highway 71, had an original post office that opened in 1903. There was also a liquor store, where we had a pleasant conversation with the owner and ended up buying some premium beer.

We drove to Mantrap Lake Campground just to check it out. At the boat ramp, there was a woman inspecting boats to ensure they were clean, helping to prevent the spread of “Aquatic Hitchhikers.”

There was also the Cedar Lakes Casino & Hotel in Cass Lake, operated by the Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe on the Leech Lake Reservation. Out of curiosity, we went inside.

Casinos, however, had never appealed to me in the least. I had visited only four of them in my life—three in Canada and one in Niagara Falls, USA. Overall, I probably lost about $20 and won approximately the same amount. I never even used my own money, relying only on promotional bonus funds given by the casinos. I know that in the long run I would be the biggest loser anyway. Moreover, I had always found the casino atmosphere extremely unpleasant and usually wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Catherine, however, excused herself and disappeared. When she reappeared an hour later, she looked quite dejected. Later she explained that the Munchkins would not be going to an Ivy League university—in fact, they would not be able to afford any university at all.

“Hopefully, I still have enough money left to send them to a vocational school,” she said. “Everett will become a hairdresser and Autumn a beautician.”

As you can see, gambling addiction is a horrible disease, and Catherine has been unable to overcome this pernicious habit! I tried to reassure her and said, “Don’t worry! They can still go to the University of Emmaville!”

That idea immediately cheered her up, and she stopped worrying about having squandered her life savings.

Cathy in Bemidji

When I later sent the blog to Catherine, she told me she didn’t remember ever going into the casino—let alone playing there or losing any money. I have to admit, though, that I made the story up and planted it deliberately to see whether she was actually reading my blog (she was). In the end, we liked the story so much that I decided not to delete it, but to keep it in the blog—with this explanation included.

Munchkin Junior

EXCELSIOR AND KOWALSKI’S MARKETS

While we were in Excelsior, we often went to Kowalski’s Markets, which was founded in 1983 by Jim and Mary Anne Kowalski. Of course, the name immediately caught my attention. After all, Kowalski is a Polish surname, meaning “of the blacksmith” or “blacksmith’s son,” derived from kowal (blacksmith) and the patronymic or locational suffix -ski. It is one of Poland’s most common surnames—much like Smith in English— indicating either an ancestor’s trade or a place named Kowal. The feminine form of the name is Kowalska.

I believe there are almost 20 Kowalski’s stores in Minnesota. The supermarkets are very nice and well maintained, carry many specialty products, and offer high-quality deli items. They are considered a high-end grocery store, though not as expensive as some others. Catherine and her daughter enjoy shopping there, so I often accompanied them—especially since there was also a separate Kowalski’s Wine & Spirits store with an eclectic selection of alcoholic beverages.

I asked the store staff about the owners—it would have been nice to meet them (after all, we had met Jim Zupancich, the owner of Zup’s Food Markets, in Ely, Minnesota, in 2022). Instead, they told me a very sad story. Later, I found more details online.

Jim Kowalski and a friend, also a pilot, went on a fishing trip to Canada. They flew in from another lake to fish for the day on a very remote lake—most likely the only two people there at the time, according to police. The lake, Dee Dee Lake, is located about 320 kilometers north of the Minnesota–Ontario border and is accessible only by plane or bush road.

They were flying a Cessna 185, an amphibious aircraft capable of landing on both land and water. On September 5, 2013, as the plane approached the shoreline, Mr. Kowalski was standing on the aircraft’s float. When the plane reached the shore, he lost his balance and fell into the propeller, suffering severe injuries.

The pilot was able to contact a local charter company, which flew in to assist and transported Mr. Kowalski back to Red Lake, where he later died as a result of his injuries.

LEAVING VICTORIA AND DRIVING BACK HOME TO ONTARIO

September 24, 2023 was my last day at Catherine’s—and it is never a day I look forward to. I thanked her for the wonderful time I had had, for her amazing companionship, and of course for all the fun I shared with the Munchkins.

Bagley Campground in Wisconsin, campsite nr 7

I took Interstate 94, and my first stop was in Menominee, where I went to Walmart, Goodwill, and Aldi. From there, I continued on Highway 29 and, in Wausau, turned north and reached Antigo, where I bought gas, stopped at Walmart, purchased two bottles of red wine, and did some shopping at Dollar Tree. After another hour or so, I arrived at Bagley Rapids Campground in the Chequamegon–Nicolet National Forest.

The campsite was just meters from the river

The campground had 36 campsites, many located right along the Oconto River. There were not many people there and most sites were vacant, so I chose campsite #7 (45°09'23.0"N 88°28'04.3"W / 45.156400, -88.467860), adjacent to the river. I placed $15 into an envelope and deposited it into the payment box. The campsite was covered with acorns, so I had to sweep them away before setting up the tent. I walked to the beautiful rapids not far from the campsite and chatted with several fellow campers. I opened one bottle of the inexpensive Walmart wine—which turned out to be quite good—and then went to the tent. The soothing sound of the river lulled me to sleep very quickly.

The next morning, as I was leaving the campground, I stopped to take a photo of the campground sign. A very friendly gentleman—the campground host—offered to take a photo of me standing in front of it. We chatted briefly, and then I drove to Marinette, Wisconsin, on Green Bay, where I went to Walmart to buy salads and something to drink (and took advantage of the free Wi-Fi). I then crossed the bridge over the Menominee River, entering another town also called Menominee, located in Michigan.

Three Lakes Campground, Michigan. Campsite #5

From there, I headed north on Highway 35, following the shores of Green Bay, which is part of Lake Michigan—a very scenic drive. I stopped in Escanaba and visited yet another Walmart. Eventually, I reached Three Lakes Campground in Hiawatha National Forest.

Catherine and I had “discovered” this wonderful campground back in 2017, when we spent several nights camping on campsite #8, completely alone. This time, however, there were several campers, and campsite #8 was occupied, so I chose campsite #5 (46°19'08.3"N 84°58'41.0"W / 46.318970, -84.978050), which was very close to the water.

In the morning, I met some people from Maine. I jokingly told them that they lived in the scariest state in the U.S.—after all, most of Stephen King’s horror stories took place there! Later, an older gentleman appeared at my campsite. We struck up a conversation, and after a few minutes he invited me over to his campsite for breakfast. I packed up my tent and drove over.

Dennis invited me for breakfast at his campsite

His name was Dennis. He was alone, traveling with a camper trailer. Over breakfast and coffee, he told me stories from his time in the U.S. Army, where he had been stationed all over the world. When I mentioned that I had been to Cuba many times, he smiled and said,

“I’ve been to Cuba too—kind of.”

I immediately guessed what he meant.

“At Guantánamo, I presume?”

He confirmed. Since I had with me a printed blog from our trip to Trinidad, Cuba, I gave him one.

After talking for more than an hour, I said goodbye and headed toward the U.S.–Canada border in Sault Ste. Marie. Just before reaching Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, I exited at 3 Mile Road to do my final shopping at Walmart and other stores and grabbed a quick breakfast.

Chutes Provincial Park, Ontario. Spectacular fall colours. In 2017 Catherine and I spent a lot of time on that beach.

Crossing the border was very quick, and soon I was back in Ontario, driving along Highway 17. Since I needed to mail a registered letter—Catherine’s passport application—I stopped in the small town of Echo Bay, visited the post office, and then continued on my way. Shortly afterward, I reached my destination: Chutes Provincial Park. I set up my tent on campsite #100 (46°13'13.8"N 82°04'21.3"W / 46.220490, -82.072570) and walked over to admire the rapids. With the fall colours at their peak, the area was absolutely spectacular, and I took amazing photos.

Chutes Provincial Park, Ontario. Rapids/falls.

Normally, that would have been my final stop before driving straight home the next day. However, the weather was absolutely gorgeous—even though it was late September—so I decided to spend several nights at Six Mile Provincial Park. I even invited Patrizia and her boyfriend to join me. The next day, I headed there and managed to secure campsite #81 (44°53'52.7"N 79°45'22.4"W / 44.897960, -79.756230), a site I remembered well—Catherine and I had camped there over Thanksgiving weekend more than ten years earlier. Unfortunately, the site was not available for the weekend, so once Patrizia and Bruno arrived, we moved to campsite #78.

Six Mile Lake Provincial Park, campsite #81

We managed to complete a couple of hiking trails. We were sweating—not because the trails were difficult, but because it was so hot and humid. On Saturday, September 30, 2023, we drove to Port Severn, attended Sunday Mass, and then stopped at the small LCBO store, where we bought several cans of cold beer. Given the weather, all of us enjoyed it immensely.

Six Mile Lake Provincial Park, Ontario. Campsite #78

We left the park on October 1, 2023, around noon. I arrived home at 3:55 p.m. When I opened the garage door, my Mother and K. were sitting in the side yard, talking and enjoying the beautiful weather. I joined them for a while. Little did I know that exactly three months later, to the day, my Mother would leave this world…

Six Mile Lake Provincial Park, Ontario. The beaver pond.

Overall, it was a wonderful journey, and I was deeply grateful to Catherine for her warm hospitality. Naturally, I was already looking forward to many more trips like this in the future.

My Ontario Outdoor Adventures

Monday, January 5, 2026

INDEX/CONTENTS OF ALL BLOGS IN ENGLISH (CANADA, USA, AND CUBA)

CAMPING IN ARROWHEAD PROVINCIAL PARK, ONTARIO. JULY 20-24, 2023

MINNESOTA, USA: CAMPING IN ONTARIO, MICHIGAN & WISCONSIN AND EXPLORING THE PARK RAPIDS AREA. AUGUST 08-OCTOBER 01, 2023