Friday, February 27, 2026

MINNESOTA, AUGUST - SEPTEMBER, 2024: CAMPING, CABIN RETREAT AND THE OPEN ROAD

 







DRIVING FROM MISSISSAUGA, ONTARIO TO VICTORIA, MINNESOTA

Eureka Tent — Kevin Callan — Chutes Provincial Park, ON — Bagley Rapids, WI — Mark B. Spitzer — Books: Fascism = Communism — Daily Exercises & Audio Courses on Western Civilization — Yellowstone Cheese, WI — Arrival in Victoria, MN

This was my fourth car trip from Mississauga, Ontario, to Minnesota in seven years and my seventh overall in ten years, so I was quite familiar with the route and the available camping options along the way. I left on Sunday, August 18, 2024, correctly expecting lighter traffic. Yet my GPS immediately warned me about delays on Highway 401—the busiest highway in North America—so, just in case, I took the toll Highway 407 (ETR), which allowed me to quickly reach Highway 400 north. Traffic was very light and, in no time, I arrived at my first destination: Sojourn Outdoor Store in Barrie, Ontario, where I purchased a small, one-person tent, the Eureka Midori 1.

Chutes Provincial Park, site #102 and my new tiny Eureka Midori 1 tent
Why? First of all, although I love my three-person tent, the Eureka El Capitan 3, I wanted something smaller and lighter, especially for shorter stays and possibly for weekend canoe trips. Secondly, I had just learned that Eureka tents would no longer be manufactured. I still cannot understand why, as they were among the best tents on the market. As I mentioned in my previous blogs, I have owned two such tents and Catherine one since 2006, and they have been outstanding.

Here I must add that Kevin Callan (also known as “The Happy Camper”), the legendary canoeist, author of 18 books, public speaker, and frequent guest on radio and television, wrote an article in Explore Magazine titled “Goodbye Eureka!” on November 6, 2023. I left a lengthy comment; in essence, I wrote the following:

“I was surprised to learn that Eureka tents will soon no longer be sold. Since 2006, I’ve used the El Capitan 3 on numerous canoeing and camping trips, and it has withstood heavy rain, strong winds, and harsh backcountry conditions. Although one tent turned out to be defective, Eureka promptly replaced it under warranty without hesitation. My oldest tent, now nearly 15 years old, is still usable, and the newer one performs perfectly. This experience confirmed for me that quality gear—and good customer service—truly build lasting loyalty.”

My current ten, Eureka El Capitan 3, can accommodate 3 people, perfect for one! At Bagley Rapids, WI, campsite #9
Kevin contacted me, asking whether he could forward my comment to Jim Stevens, who had served as the Sales Manager at Eureka Canada until his retirement in 2020 and who, in many ways, was Eureka Canada, as he had designed tents and other camping gear for well over two decades. Of course, I agreed. Later, I met Kevin at the Outdoor Adventure Show in Mississauga in February 2025, and once again we discussed, among other things, the untimely demise of Eureka tents.

One more note: I first met Kevin Callan at Bon Echo Provincial Park in 2003, when he delivered an excellent presentation on canoeing and camping. As he was sponsored by the Eureka Tent Company, he brought several brochures featuring Eureka tents. Eight years later, in 2006, I purchased my Eureka El Capitan 3—one that I still occasionally use today.

Bagley Rapids, WI, campsite #9
My only other stop that day was in Pointe au Baril (45°35'45.5"N 80°22'25.2"W / 45.595972, -80.373667), where I parked the car in front of the LCBO store (a government-run liquor store) and took a 40-minute nap. I had not slept many hours the previous night and was tired; besides, I do not particularly enjoy driving long distances, especially alone.

It was quite hot and humid, and it rained once or twice, although the local weather forecast did not call for rain in the evening. Fortunately, not long before this trip, I had had the air conditioning in my car repaired—and I was very glad I had.

Bagley Rapids, WI. These rapids were just meters from my campsite
In the evening, I arrived at Chutes Provincial Park in Massey, Ontario. The previous day, I had reserved campsite number 102 (46°13'12.4"N 82°04'23.3"W / 46.220117, -82.073133). In fact, there were not many campsites available, and I did not want to risk any potential issues, as I knew the park office would be closed upon my arrival. In the past, I had camped at sites 95, 98, and 100, so I was quite familiar with the area. I set up my new Midori tent, which proved to be relatively spacious for a one-person model. It had one door and one vestibule, with enough space to store my belongings. Since I was tired and sleepy, I went to bed shortly after 9:00 p.m. and skipped my customary stroll to the falls.

I slept quite well, but in the morning it was only +13°C—surprisingly cool. I certainly could have used my second sleeping bag, which was in the car. Before packing up, I spent 40 minutes exercising and stretching, maintaining my daily routine even while traveling.

Not long after leaving Chutes Provincial Park, I turned onto a road called “Seldom Seen Road.” I made a point of actually seeing it, but I can honestly say that it was a very ordinary, average, even mediocre road. It offered no particular attractions, except for a railway crossing with a STOP sign. No wonder it was seldom seen.

In Blind River, I went to ValueMart, bought two sandwiches, then drove about a minute to Tim Hortons for coffee and had my breakfast in the parking lot. There was road construction underway, and on a couple of occasions traffic came to a complete stop.

Bagley Rapids are names after these rapids, which were very close to my campsite
Before crossing the border, I did some last-minute shopping in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, filled up with gas, and drove onto the impressive bridge connecting the twin cities—one in Ontario and the other in Michigan, USA. Fortunately, there was no traffic and no wait at the border. The U.S. immigration officer asked me a few standard questions: When was the last time you visited the United States? Do you own a house? How long are you staying? What is the purpose of your visit? Do you have a friend in the United States? Are you bringing any food? He then remarked that I had been traveling to the United States frequently at that time of year. Indeed, he could see my travel history on his computer.

I often came to this place to read a book, but ended up watching the rapids instead
I made a brief stop at the Michigan Welcome Center, where I picked up a few maps. Although I rely on GPS, I still appreciate paper maps; they provide perspective that a screen never quite does. I still had almost 450 km to drive to my planned destination. I took Interstate 75, then Highway 28, turned south onto Highway 2, and finally drove south on Highway 35, reaching the town of Menominee, Michigan. Just across the bridge lies Marinette, Wisconsin, where I took Highway 64 and eventually arrived at the Bagley Rapids Campground in the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest.
 
When I was returning home in September 2023, my first stop had been Bagley Rapids Campground. There were very few people there, and I was fortunate to secure one of the best campsites, number 7 (45°09'23.0"N 88°28'04.3"W / 45.156400, -88.467867). My tent had been only a couple of meters from the river and about 15 meters from the rapids. That proximity was precisely why I was eager to return and spend as much time there as possible.

This time, I was even luckier. Although campsite number 7 was occupied, campsite number 9 (45°09'21.8"N 88°28'07.0"W / 45.156050, -88.468617) was vacant—and it was arguably even better, closer to the rapids. I quickly set up my regular tent, the Eureka El Capitan 3, and then drove back to the self-serve pay station, where I deposited $30 for two nights. According to a posted notice, there was a proposal to increase the fee for “premium sites” from $15 to $24 per night. Although I had originally planned to spend one night in a different forest closer to Minneapolis, I later decided to stay two additional nights at Bagley Rapids.


While in the National Forest, I often carried my chair and a book down to the rapids. However, I rarely managed to read more than a page or two; watching and listening to the rushing water was far more compelling than even the most engaging book. I set up my tripod, took numerous photographs, and recorded a short vlog-style video, which probably captures my campsite, the river, and the rapids better than any description.

Mountain Fire Lookout Tower
Two small towns were located nearby: Mountain and Lakewood. Lakewood had a surprisingly spacious public library, where I spent almost two hours using their Wi-Fi, as my Canadian phone did not work in the United States. While exploring Mountain, I visited the Mountain Fire Lookout Tower (45°12'56.4"N 88°27'53.9"W / 45.215667, -88.464967), one of the last fire towers still standing in its original location within the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest. Built in 1935, it was one of twenty towers constructed in the forest during the 1930s. However, I was not brave enough to climb it.

Mountain Fire Tower
I also visited two Dollar General stores—one in Lakewood and one in Mountain. Both sold alcoholic beverages (wine and beer), and identification was required regardless of the purchaser’s age. I was somewhat surprised that a convenience store attached to a gas station also sold hard liquor (whiskey, rum, vodka). The least expensive bottle of red wine (750 ml) cost $3.99. In each store, I had a pleasant conversation with young salespersons.

The Bagley Rapids Campground also had a host—different from the one in 2023—who took a photograph of me near the entrance as I was leaving the campground. One day, he stopped by my campsite and introduced himself. His name was Mark B. Spitzer, and we ended up having a long conversation about camping, traveling, and canoeing. It turned out that thirty years earlier he had canoed the entire length of the Missouri River and then continued down the Mississippi River. He had just published a book about the journey titled “Waterlogue. The First Canoeing Descent of North America's Longest River”, which I purchased from him.

Many years ago, I stopped buying souvenirs during my travels. However, I truly appreciate books or other semi-intangible mementos, which, for me, hold far greater value.


Here is a short description of his book:

“Accompanied by his dog Groucho, the author made a seven-month journey canoeing from the headwaters of the Missouri River on the Montana-Idaho border to its confluence with the Mississippi River and then on to the delta in the Gulf of Mexico. The book records his experience of wind and water while traveling in twelve states, as well as various sights and short side trips along the route, including unexpected help from many strangers and contacts with friends and family. Spitzer is recognized as being the first person to complete this lengthy journey. The journal also includes the events of a short shakedown paddle on the Little Missouri River in the author’s home state of North Dakota.”

There is an interview with Mark about this trip here: Episode number 107  or here, "7 months on the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers."

Without even looking for them, I found quite a few wild mushrooms, which I sliced and dried. Although there were warnings about poison ivy, I did not see any. The only animals around were squirrels and chipmunks, quite wary of people—unlike those in Ontario’s provincial parks, which can become remarkably friendly when food is involved.

While staying at  Bagley Rapids, I read a very interesting book, “First They Killed My Father: A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers” by Loung Ung. The author was only five years old when, in April 1975, Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge army entered Phnom Penh, forcing her family to flee and eventually disperse. Loung was trained as a child soldier in a work camp for orphans, her siblings were sent to labor camps, and those who survived the horrors were not reunited until the Khmer Rouge regime was destroyed.

I then began reading “Every Man Dies Alone” by Hans Fallada. Written after the Second World War in just 24 days, it was described by Primo Levi as “the greatest book ever written about the German resistance to the Nazis.” I found it excellent and thoroughly engaging. Several films have been made based on the novel; not long ago, I watched one of them, “Alone in Berlin.” Nevertheless, I still consider what is commonly described as “the German resistance to the Nazis” to have been largely inadequate and insignificant—more symbolic than substantial. I strongly believe—no, that is the wrong word—I know that the vast majority of Germans supported Hitler, or at least obediently followed his orders and the Nazi system. The book itself makes this painfully clear.

Ironically, both books dealt with totalitarian systems—communism and fascism—which claimed millions upon millions of victims and caused immense suffering across the world.

In addition, during my daily exercises at the campsite—close to the river, in what must be one of the most scenic workout locations imaginable—I listened to a fascinating audiobook, “The Foundations of Western Civilization,” taught by Professors Thomas F. X. Noble (University of Notre Dame) and Robert Bucholz (Loyola University Chicago). I had purchased each six-CD course set for $1.00 at a thrift store and converted them into MP3 format so I could use my tiny MP3 player along with a portable wireless speaker. It was an outstanding course. I often became so absorbed in the lectures that I deliberately extended the duration of my exercises. Sometimes—indeed, quite often—the best things in life are free or very inexpensive.

All prices are going up!
On Friday, August 23, 2024, after my routine morning exercises, I packed up and left the beautiful campsite, heading toward Minneapolis, Minnesota. I took the very secluded Highway 64, stopped in Antigo to grab something to eat at Walmart, visited Goodwill and Dollar Tree, filled up with gas, and continued east on Highway 29.

At one point, I became quite tired. Just before Chippewa Falls, I took Exit 27. After driving for several minutes, I unexpectedly arrived at Yellowstone Cheese, a family-owned cheese factory in Cadott, Wisconsin, where cheese production can be observed through a viewing window. There was a wide variety of cheeses at very reasonable prices. Cheese in Canada is likely at least 50 percent more expensive than in the United States due to quotas and government regulations. I love cheese but try to limit my consumption, so I bought only a small piece as a snack for the road.

Bacówka in Poland.
Source: Wikimedia Commons. Autorstwa Jerzy Opioła - Praca własna, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7224124
Later I learned that Yellowstone Cheese (44°55'43.8"N 91°11'02.3"W / 44.928833, -91.183983) opened its doors halfway between the North Pole and the Equator, in Cadott, Wisconsin. Cheesemaker Dave Anderson brought over fifteen years of experience to the venture. The milk is sourced from the nearby family farm, located only about 200 yards from the factory. The milk is transported in a bulk tank on wheels and crafted into various cheeses using Colby, Monterey Jack, or cheddar as the base. The name “Yellowstone” refers not to the national park, but to the historic Yellowstone Trail—the first automobile route from Plymouth Rock to Puget Sound.

Oscypek.
Source: Wikipedia
More than thirty years ago, in Toronto, I met Dr. Władysław Pieczonka, a specialist in milk and cheese products, who often shared interesting insights about cheese production. While browsing the store, I struck up a conversation with one of the employees (perhaps a manager) and mentioned the Polish cheese “oscypek,” produced by Polish Highlanders (górale) in the Tatra Mountains and Podhale region of southern Poland. Expert shepherds, known as “baca,” hand-make this smoked sheep’s milk cheese in traditional wooden huts (bacówka) from May to September, often using centuries-old methods passed down through generations.

Górska Odznaka Turystyczna (GOT): Mountain Hiking Badge / Mountain Tourism Badge.
PTTK (Polskie Towarzystwo Turystyczno-Krajoznawcze): Polish Tourist and Sightseeing Society
In the 1970s. I earned the Popularna (Popular), Brązowa (Bronze), Srebrna (Silver) and Złota (Gold) badges.
For many years, I avidly hiked in the Polish Carpathian Mountains with a large and heavy backpack--and I even earned "Górska Odznaka Turystyczna, GOT (Mountain Hiking Badge), issued by the PTTK, Polish Tourist and Sightseeing Society--Popular, Bronze, Silver and Gold. I frequently stopped at bacówka huts, where a fire burned in the center and numerous cheeses hung near the roof, slowly smoking. We often purchased the cheese, along with żętyca (also spelled zyntyca), a traditional whey-based beverage produced during the cheesemaking process. At the end of our conversation at Yellowstone Cheese, I was given a complimentary piece of cheese. I said that if I ever drove to Minnesota again, I would stop there. Unfortunately, I have not been in the United States since then—but not because I am boycotting the country; rather, for entirely different reasons.

The visit to the cheese factory revived me. My sleepiness disappeared, and I continued on the road, eventually joining I-94 in Eau Claire. My only other stop was in Menomonie, Wisconsin, where I have stopped many times before. I visited Goodwill (naturally, looking for books) and then Aldi across the street, where I bought lemons and oranges for my morning juice.

Shortly after leaving Menomonie, traffic came to a complete halt for nearly an hour due to an accident several miles ahead. When I finally reached the scene, I saw a tow truck, a police cruiser, and a car in a ditch.

It was past 7:00 p.m. when I finally arrived in Victoria, Minnesota—and Catherine was already sitting in front of her house, waiting for me.


ENJOYING VICTORIA, MN AND THE SURROUNDING AREA

Munchkins — Gale Woods Farm — Fall Harvest Orchard — Carver Park Reserve — Lowry Nature Center — Lake Minnetonka LRT Regional Trail — Great Northern Railroad — Life Fitness — Jerusalem Audiobook — Arboretum & Ginkgo Biloba — Cambodian Buddhist Temple — Wendelin Grimm Farmstead & Grimm Alfalfa—Golden Retriever at St. Victoria Catholic Church — City Logo & Political Correctness, a.k.a. Stupidity

Initially, our plan was to spend some time in Victoria and the surrounding area and then go camping. However, it was quite hot, and after several weeks we left for the cabin and stayed there by ourselves for about two weeks.

The sheep's soft fleece is so nice!
Of course, the Munchkins—whom I mentioned in my other blogs—often accompanied us (or perhaps we accompanied them), and as always, I truly enjoyed their company and had plenty of fun and laughter.

Having fund with the sheep!
One day, we went to Gale Woods Farm (44°55'43.3"N 93°42'18.6"W / 44.928694, -93.705167), a real working farm located on picturesque Whaletail Lake in Minnetrista. It offers a unique educational opportunity for visitors of all ages to gain an understanding of agriculture, food production, and land stewardship. I genuinely learned a great deal and enjoyed myself, but for the Munchkins it was paradise. They played with chicks and chickens, learned about various vegetables, and enthusiastically explored every corner of the farm. For some reason, Everett loved watering the vegetables and watching as the water slowly disappeared into the soil. We also went apple picking. However, the highlight was the opportunity to play with the sheep and lambs. The children adored cuddling the lambs and burying their faces in their soft fleece—and the lambs did not seem to mind at all. They also played with goats and kids (baby goats).

Milking a "cow": I don't see any milk!
In the early 1970s, I was fortunate to spend two years of my life in the countryside, on a farm. For most city children today, however, such an environment is entirely new. I once read that when children in a New York City school were asked where milk came from, many assumed it was produced in a factory, like Coca-Cola. Visits like this help reconnect people—especially children—with the origins of their food.

Everett and his wagon!
We also visited Fall Harvest Orchard in Montrose, which offers train rides and numerous attractions, including playing with rabbits and cats, shooting pumpkins, riding a merry-go-round, and playing in the hay. Upon arrival, Everett found a small wagon and immediately began pulling it everywhere he went. I was amazed by his determination. At one point, he had to pull it up a small incline, and I assumed he would abandon it—but no. He carefully repositioned it, struggled persistently, and eventually succeeded in pulling it uphill.

Autumn with a cat
There was a small train he wanted to ride—along with the wagon. The train engineer informed him that the wagon could not come aboard. Everett nearly gave up the ride altogether, unwilling to part with his prized possession. Only after Catherine explained that I would sit nearby and guard the wagon did he reluctantly agree. Even then, each time the train passed, he glanced toward me to confirm that his wagon was still there. When it was finally time to leave the farm, I was convinced he would refuse to abandon it. To my surprise, he calmly left it behind in the middle of the road without a second thought.

Autumn enjoyed playing with the bunnies and also found a cat that she carried around for quite some time—naturally, she then asked her mother for a cat of her own. Overall, the Munchkins had a wonderful time—and so did we.

Carver Park Reserve, located almost adjacent to Catherine’s house, offers numerous hiking and biking trails, a nature center, and even a campground. Catherine rented campsite number 13 over Labour Day—not for overnight camping at first, but to set up my tent and invite the Munchkins and their parents for a small gathering. The children loved hiding in the tent, as it was something entirely new to them, and they thoroughly enjoyed the campfire and grilled food.

BBQ with the Munchkins at Carver Reserve
After everyone left, Catherine decided that since the weather was pleasant and the campsite already paid for, we might as well spend the night there. We quickly drove to her house, collected mattresses and sleeping bags, and returned to the campsite. Catherine left early the next morning because it was the first day of Autumn going to kindergarden in a new school and she wanted to get photos of her, so I packed up the tent and drove back to her home later.

The Munchkins in my tent
Nestled within Carver Park Reserve is the Lowry Nature Center, a beautiful prairie-style building. The center participates in monarch butterfly tagging, a citizen science initiative that tracks the butterflies’ migration to Mexico. The process involves safely capturing migrating monarchs, placing a small identification sticker on their wings, and recording data to monitor population trends. All of us, including the Munchkins, visited the center. While the children attempted—unsuccessfully—to spot and catch monarchs, I spent most of my time inside examining the exhibits, speaking with staff members, and carefully reading the information panels.

We spent one night on campsite #13 at Carver Reserve
Allow me to digress briefly. As I have mentioned many times before, I thoroughly enjoy exploring Minnesota’s outstanding trail system, particularly the many trails built on former railway rights-of-way. I brought my bicycle with me, and we frequently rode on trails in the Victoria area as well as near Park Rapids. Minnesota’s bike trails are exceptionally well maintained, clearly marked, and often equipped with maintenance stations where cyclists can inflate tires or perform basic repairs.

James J. Hill’s Great Northern Railroad crossing the reserve
One such trail, the Lake Minnetonka LRT Regional Trail, runs approximately 200 meters from Catherine’s home in Victoria. We often rode along it toward Excelsior and beyond. The trail follows the former Minneapolis and St. Louis Railway (M&StL), built in 1870, once a significant route between Minneapolis and Watertown, South Dakota. It was acquired by the Chicago and North Western Railway in 1960; service ended in 1980, and the tracks were removed the following year. Many times, while sitting on the porch in Victoria, I tried to imagine trains passing through that landscape not so long ago—where cyclists now move quietly along the same corridor.

Aerial map from the 1920s or 1930s, showing the area of Carver Reserve and Catherine's current property & home. Josh Biber, the article's author, highlighted the old rail line. After I compared this photo with present Google satellite images, I figured out that the Great Northern Railroad used to pass across Catherine's property, or very, very close to it
Returning to Lowry Nature Center, one panel titled “Landscapes of Change: The Hidden History of Carver Park Reserve” included a map showing part of the Lake Minnetonka LRT Regional Trail. What particularly caught my attention was the depiction of James J. Hill’s Great Northern Railroad crossing the reserve. The text explained that in 1887 the railroad ran from Hopkins to Hutchinson, bringing visitors to Lake Waconia. The tracks were removed in 1901, but parts of the route remain visible today, and a section of paved bike trail north of Steiger Lake follows the former railway bed.

Although Catherine and I had ridden that trail many times, this was the first time we learned about the Great Northern Railroad in that specific area. Curious, I conducted further research and discovered an article by Josh Biber titled “Excelsior’s Forgotten Railroad,” published on May 31, 2022, in The Minnesota Historian. The article described the largely forgotten rail corridor and included historical aerial photographs.

Victoria, MN, circa 1890. The location of Park Dr. and Kochia Ln. The pond is still there, just meters from Catherine's home.
One detail astonished me. The author noted that many suburban homeowners may not realize that their properties sit atop what was once a bustling rail corridor. After carefully examining a photograph of Schutz Lake with the old rail line highlighted, I realized that the railway either crossed—or came very close to crossing—Catherine’s property. Needless to say, this was a surprising discovery for both of us. We had been walking and cycling near traces of that forgotten corridor without any awareness of its history. By the way, I can imagine how loud it must have been in this place over 100 years ago, especially when two trains, pulled by two powerful steam locomotives, were running at the same time on two separate railways!

Fall Festival at the Minnesota Arboretum
Twice, as Catherine’s guest, I visited Life Fitness, where I spent well over an hour swimming and then relaxing in the sauna and whirlpool. The club is located not far from her home and adjacent to the Life Fitness corporate headquarters. There is also a Life Fitness facility in Mississauga, but it is relatively far from my home and the membership fee is quite high.

The Munchkins enjoying the Fall Festival at the Minnesota Arboretum
During my daily exercises, I listened to a university-level course titled “Jerusalem: City of God, City of Fire,” taught by F. E. Peters. The course was spread over 14 CDs, and I found it so absorbing that I often lost track of time while exercising. I purchased the lectures—along with several others—at my favorite bookstores, namely Goodwill in Menomonie, Wisconsin. I listened to them using a CD player I bought at Goodwill in Chaska for $3 (and later purchased another in Akeley). Once again, some of the most valuable educational experiences cost almost nothing—or rather, the best things in life are free. Of course, this is true provided that one’s needs are not overly materialistic or excessively demanding; otherwise, they can become a financial burden for almost anyone, without bringing the expected pleasure or benefits.

The Minnesota Arboretum, Fall Festival
We also visited the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum several times, located very close to Catherine’s home. I truly love this place. It contains an impressive collection of trees, shrubs, and plants, all clearly labeled—an ideal environment for learning plant identification. Some species look nearly identical despite having different names, and I often wondered how experts distinguished among them.

Ginko Biloba
I became particularly interested in Kentucky Coffeetrees, several of which grow in the parking lot, as well as Ginkgo Biloba, a tree about which I had heard much. One remarkable fact about the ginkgo is its extraordinary resilience. In Hiroshima, Japan, six ginkgo trees growing between one and two kilometers from the 1945 atomic bomb explosion survived the blast, even though most other plants and animals in the area were destroyed. These trees, though charred, recovered and continue to live today, marked as surviving “hibakujumoku.”

Kentucky Coffeetree. There are several such trees in the Minnesota Arboretum, as well as very close to Catherine's home, along the biking trail
Since it was September, the Arboretum was hosting its Fall Festival, which the Munchkins greatly enjoyed. They enthusiastically explored sculptures, huts, and seasonal displays.

One day, we spent several hours at Wat Munisotaram (44°37'59.0"N 93°02'46.4"W / 44.633056, -93.046222), a Cambodian Buddhist temple located in Empire, Minnesota, about thirty minutes south of the Twin Cities. Established in 1982, the temple serves as a spiritual sanctuary and cultural center for the Cambodian community and followers of Theravada Buddhism across the Midwest. It is the largest Cambodian Buddhist temple in North America.

I believe it was my first visit to a Buddhist temple, despite the fact that a much smaller one has existed on my street for years. My understanding of Buddhist symbolism is limited, so I wished someone could have offered us a tour or answered our questions. However, the grounds were nearly empty, and we encountered very few people. I took several photographs and sent them to a friend with the message, “Greetings from Thailand.” Given the temple’s impressive architecture, he was understandably confused.

While driving along Grimm Road, not far from Victoria, I noticed an older farm building set back from the road. Nothing flashy—just quiet, dignified, and weathered by time. Nearby stood a large rock with a metal plaque. Naturally, we stopped. Curiosity always wins.

Wendelin Grimm's farmhouse and the commemorative plaque
The plaque read:

Commemorating
WENDELIN GRIMM
Resident of Minnesota 1857–1891
who originated
GRIMM ALFALFA
on this farm

Erected June 1924 by Grimm Alfalfa Growers Association

At first glance, it may not sound particularly dramatic. Alfalfa? A forage crop? Hardly the stuff of epic history.

And yet.

I was standing at the birthplace of one of the most important — and least celebrated — agricultural breakthroughs in North America.

The farm, now part of Carver Park Reserve and listed on the National Register of Historic Places, preserves the legacy of Wendelin Grimm (1818–1890), a German immigrant whose patience quietly reshaped American agriculture.



Grimm arrived in Minnesota in 1859 carrying a small bag of alfalfa seed — then called “everlasting clover.” The problem? Minnesota winters were far harsher than those in Germany. Most of the plants died.

Many would have given up. Grimm did not.

Each spring, he saved seeds only from the plants that survived the winter. Then he replanted. Year after year. For fifteen years.

Through nothing more glamorous than stubborn persistence and careful selection, he developed the first truly winter-hardy alfalfa in North America.

Word spread. Farmers adopted it. Around 1900, scientists at the University of Minnesota recognized its value. Professor Willet M. Hays later named it “Grimm alfalfa” and incorporated it into formal breeding programs.

The result? Grimm’s strain became the genetic foundation of virtually all winter-tolerant alfalfa varieties grown in the United States today.

The numbers are staggering:

• Over 25 million acres of alfalfa are grown in the U.S.
• The crop’s annual value runs into the tens of billions of dollars.
• It underpins livestock feed, dairy production, and forage agriculture across the continent.

Wendelin Grimm Farmhouse interior
Source: Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wendelin_Grimm_Farmhouse_interior.jpg
University of Minnesota agronomy professor Lawrence Elling once called Grimm alfalfa the most important crop development in North America until the invention of hybrid corn.

And yet most people — myself included until that afternoon — had never heard his name.

We tend to celebrate inventors of machines, founders of companies, generals, politicians. But here was a man who, by quietly observing which plants survived winter, changed the economic landscape of a continent.

Not bad for a farmer with a small sack of seeds.

In my upcoming blog about Bon Echo Provincial Park, I plan to mention another such breakthrough: Red Fife wheat, developed on a farm in Ontario. From the mid-1800s until the early 1900s, it was the dominant wheat variety in Canada and the northern

It seems that history is full of such quiet revolutions — we simply have to stop the car and read the plaque.

The City of Victoria—where I enjoy Catherine’s hospitality during my stays in Minnesota—has been nicknamed “The City of Lakes and Parks” because it has over 200 acres (0.81 km²) of reserved land, 25 parks, and thirteen lakes within its borders. Of course, it is also home to the 1,800-acre (7.3 km²) Carver Park Reserve, whose border we can see from her house.

The city is named after the church built on 30 acres of land just north of Lake Bavaria in 1857. It was originally a small wooden church that was replaced with a larger brick church in 1870, which still stands today. As the population in the area increased, construction once again commenced in 2003 on another, larger worship space. Today, there is the new church, complementing the historic one.



In fact, the city logo includes an outline of a church with a cross perched atop a steeple, along with a waterway, trees, and birds—after all, Victoria is named after the church!

I had visited the church several times and was impressed with the old and the new churches joined together and coexisting harmoniously. I am glad the old church was preserved—unfortunately, many old church buildings are demolished when new churches are constructed. For example, the church in Mississauga that I often attend was built in the 1970s (albeit at a completely new location), yet the old church, built in 1871, was demolished and a mall was constructed in its place.

St. Victoria Catholic Church--old church. Victoria, MN
Source: Wikimedia Commons. 
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:St._Victoria_Catholic_Church,_Victoria,_Minnesota-01.jpg
During my 2024 visit, I drove there on Sunday to attend a Mass held in the new, modern church, which was quite full. I was surprised to see a dog—a Golden Retriever—at the altar, and then the priest appeared. It was Fr. Bob White, the pastor, whose eyesight began to fail in the 1990s due to hereditary eye conditions—although he could still see a little. That is why his service dog, Arlo, has been accompanying him everywhere and has become a very familiar sight not only in the church, but throughout the city. The Mass was a very solemn experience for me.

Elbląg, Poland

Tolkmicko, Poland



Biała Podlaska, Poland
Wrocław, Poland

Nowy Sącz, Poland
Zamość, Poland

Lubin, Poland
Gdańsk, Poland





Archangielsk, Russia
Bełchatów, Poland
One more thing: I recently read in the local newspaper that the City of Victoria officials “will be exploring the possibility of a new city logo, one that may not include religious imagery, even though the city is named after a community church.” In my view, this is political correctness taken to an extreme. When a city’s very name is rooted in a church, removing that reference from its symbol is not neutrality—it is historical amnesia.

Across Europe, many cities proudly retain coats of arms with religious motifs, reflecting centuries of cultural and spiritual heritage. In Poland, for example, city emblems include saints such as St. Martin of Tours, biblical scenes such as the temptation of Eve in Bełchatów, and images of the Virgin Mary and Child in Lubin. These symbols are not viewed as political statements but as expressions of history and identity. Remarkably, even during the communist era—under an officially atheistic government—there was no effort to strip these cities of their historic emblems and replace them with ideologically “neutral” logos.

That is why I find it troubling that such discussions even arise in the United States, a country that often speaks proudly of preserving its heritage. When communities distance themselves from the very roots that shaped them, one must ask whether we are witnessing progress—or a gradual detachment from history and tradition. To me, this is not a trivial branding exercise; it is a question of cultural continuity and respect for origins.

STAYING IN PARK RAPIDS AND EXPLORING THE SURROUNDING TOWNS AND ATTRACTIONS BY CAR AND BY BIKE

Driving to the Cabin — Buffalo Nickel — A Pine Restaurant & Paul Bunyan — McDonalds Meat — Serenity at the Soulless Cabin — Trump vs. Harris — Ackley — Nevis — Dorset — Trump Store — Blackduck, Northome, Mizpah & the Lost 40 — Huntersville State Forest — Swimming Across the Mississippi River — Preachers’ Grove — Scamp Trailer Factory

On September 6, 2025, we headed to the cabin in Park Rapids. The drive itself included several worthwhile stops.

One of those places that is very relaxing to visit
Our first stop was Buffalo Nickel Antique Market (45°10'05.6"N 93°51'25.4"W). It is one of those places that make a road trip memorable. As the website states, “Historic Barn Treasures and Stories Await…” The two-floor historic barn was packed with distinctive antiques and collectibles. We thoroughly enjoyed browsing through its carefully selected items — each with character and history.

Wow, I had no idea that Catherine lived here with her grandkids!
Our next stop was A-Pine Restaurant in Pequot Lakes, where “Paul Bunyan’s spirit meets family-style dining.” The restaurant embraces the legend of Paul Bunyan, about whom I wrote more in another blog.

According to the restaurant’s website, although some claim Paul was born in Maine, Minnesotans “know better.” It supposedly took five giant storks working overtime to deliver him. As a child, he played with an axe and crosscut saw like other children played with toys, and on his first birthday his father gave him a pet blue ox named Babe. Paul and Babe grew so enormous that the tracks they made gallivanting around Minnesota supposedly filled with water and formed the 10,000 lakes. Pine River, six miles north of the restaurant, even claims to be his birthplace. The legend goes on to say that while logging in Minnesota’s northwoods, Paul discovered the A-Pine Restaurant nestled under century-old Norway pines and, exhausted from his travels, sat down to enjoy a hearty A-Pine meal.

There is indeed a statue of Paul Bunyan nearby, and inside the restaurant you can even see a framed copy of his “driver’s license.” The mythology is embraced with good humor — and the food was excellent.

Paul Bunyan's driver's licence. I have seen so many artifacts belonging to this legendary individual in Minnesota that it is difficult NOT to believe in his existence!
In Clear Lake, we stopped at McDonald's Meats (45°26'41.3"N 93°59'54.3"W), a family-run meat market operating since 1914 and now in its fourth generation. The store advertises over 1,000 products. I was genuinely impressed by the variety — it reminded me of traditional Polish delicatessens with their distinctive, high-quality sausages and specialty meats. I purchased several excellent sausages and sampled a few others.

During this stay, we were alone at the cabin. Unlike previous visits, we did not share it with the Munchkins. Everything was calm, predictable, and peaceful.

After a while I told Catherine, “Something is missing. This place has almost lost its soul — it is not the same without the Munchkins.”

Catherine, I suspect, appreciated the rest from her daily interactions with the two energetic scamps.

Presidential debate between Trump and Harris
I had brought my Chromebook, which turned out to be very useful. Besides reading The Wall Street Journal and browsing online, we watched the presidential debate between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris. It was the first time I had seen Harris “live,” since I do not have television. Her performance was certainly stronger than Biden’s earlier debate performance, though I left uncertain about her chances in the election.

My "office" at the patio, with an awesome vie on the lake
The Chromebook also saved me professionally. A client contacted me regarding an urgent matter, and I had to draft several letters and forward documents. With no Munchkins present, I set up my temporary “office” on the patio table, working with fresh air and a beautiful lake view.

With Paul Bunyan in Akeley, Minnesota 

With Paul Bunyan in Akeley, Minnesota
We drove several times to Akeley, home to another large Paul Bunyan statue and its own claim as the birthplace of the legend. From there we biked portions of the Heartland Rail Trail.

My favourite section in the Thrift Shop in Akeley--"Books and DVDs"!
We never skip the enormous thrift store located in the old secondary school building. It is huge, well stocked, and has an excellent book and DVD section. I found several good books and even a brand-new CD player, which I immediately put to use without converting anything to MP3 format.

With the Tiger Muskie. I wish I could catch one whose size is a tiny fraction of this one!
We also biked to Nevis, where I had my photograph taken with “The World’s Largest Tiger Musky.” Later we visited Bullwinkle’s restaurant and ordered three beers — two IPAs and one Heineken.

Our bill from the Bullwinkles Restaurant for just 3 beers. And don't forget to add the 15% tip!
The bill came to $24.94, and with tip the total was $28.24 — roughly $40 Canadian. For those who believe prices in the United States are always lower than in Canada, this was a useful reminder that this is not always the case. That is one reason I very seldom order an alcoholic drink while eating out—the markup for just pouring it into the glass is enormous. Besides, three weeks later I quit drinking—but that is another story, about which I write more later.

Catherine in paradise!
The tiny community of Dorset (population 22) calls itself the “Restaurant Capital of the World” due to its high number of restaurants. Because it lies along the Heartland State Trail, we biked there several times. On one occasion we drove and attended the Dorset Annual Garage Sale, with tables set up throughout the town. As usual, we left with useful items and books.

Inside the Trump Store.
We again stopped at the Trump Store (see my YouTube video). Regardless of political views, it remains a distinctive roadside attraction and I encourage you to see it—or watch my YouTube video!

Park Rapids, MN. A very important historical marker, commemorating an even more important event that did NOT happened here in 1897
Around Park Rapids we explored forested hiking trails, where I found several interesting wild mushrooms — though I could not identify them. We also visited residential areas and checked Little Free Libraries; some contained excellent books.

Main Street Meat Store in Park Rapids--excellent!
Aldi and Walmart were our primary grocery stores, and we visited Dollar Tree a few times, always enjoying friendly conversations with the staff. Once we used Catherine’s “2 for 1” coupon at Burger King. She chose to sit outside near the main road — not a very good idea, as it was windy and noisy, but the hamburgers were tasty.

At Shell City Campground in Huntersville State Forest
We also visited Huntersville State Forest (46°44'17.9"N 94°55'43.2"W). The campsites were attractive and nearly empty. We met three women camping in a designated equestrian area because they had brought horses. In the United States, some parks provide special campgrounds, corrals, and trails specifically for horse riders. On a previous occasion, riders even gave us treats to feed their horses.

Blackduck, Minnesota. With the word's largest black duck statue. Wow, there is even a Canadian flag!
Our longest day trip was to the Lost 40.

Our first stop was in Blackduck (47°55'34.2"N 94°12'25.6"W / 47.926167, -94.207111), at Blackduck Wayside Rest Park. The most prominent feature of the park was the World’s Largest Black Duck Statue. Later I read that “in the early days there were a lot more birds, waterfowl, and animals. There is a legend that the lake was once covered by Cormorants, thought to be black ‘ducks’. The lake became Blackduck Lake, and when choosing a name for the town it only made sense to name the town Blackduck.”

Old, original statue, from 1942
The main statue depicts a black duck in flight and was created in 1983. Later we found another duck statue, resembling a carved hunter’s decoy—the original 1942 statue, made of concrete. There was also a small stand selling vegetables, and we purchased several tomatoes and red peppers—and, of course, talked to the locals.

Northome, with its iconic bear statue and even more iconic Catherine
Our next stop was Northome. The first thing we saw was a tall statue of a black bear at the main intersection (47°52'21.8"N 94°16'51.3"W / 47.872722, -94.280917), commemorating the town’s title as “the bear capital of Minnesota.” Since the city is located in the southern part of the Taiga, there are many black bears and other wild animals, including wolves and cougars. We walked a little and dropped into Shining Light Cafe just to look around.

Talk about all services under one roof: A restaurant, City Hall and a laundry in one building!
Then we drove to Mizpah (47°55'34.2"N 94°12'25.6"W / 47.926159, -94.207122), a very small community, where Catherine’s distant relatives had just purchased a property.

Finally, we headed to our ultimate destination: the Lost Forty (47°45'57.7"N 94°05'01.4"W / 47.766028, -94.083722).

The tree is impressive!
Its story is quite fascinating; unfortunately, some facts are very similar to those in Ontario and probably other provinces as well.

The Lost 40 is the largest surviving patch of old-growth red and white pine forest in Minnesota. Some of the pines are 300–400 years old and 100 feet (over 30 meters) tall.

This patch of forest survived because of a surveying error in 1882—it was mistakenly marked on official maps as underwater. Logging companies, relying on those maps, ignored the area—after all, pines do not usually grow in or under water. Hence the name: the Lost 40—although it is not actually 40 acres. The protected Natural Area covers about 144 acres, with roughly 144 acres of true old-growth pine at its core. [Source: Frank Jacobs, “How a Map Mistake Saved a Forest of 300-Year-Old Trees. Minnesota’s ‘Lost Forty’ survived the lumberjack’s ax thanks to an improperly drawn lake,” March 31, 2023]

In Ontario there are very, very few such old pines. Probably 99%+ of all trees had been totally logged, and what we see today is new forest, perhaps 100–130 years old. It is almost impossible to imagine how the scenery looked before the logging era. For example, hills in the Bon Echo Park area were called “bald hills” in the 1920s because of clear-cutting. The Booth railway that once crisscrossed Algonquin Park to transport harvested lumber was built by John Rudolphus Booth, a Canadian lumber tycoon and railroad baron, whose lumber complex at the end of the 19th century was the largest operation of its kind in the world. The railway was the busiest in Canada, with trains passing every 20 minutes. Forests were thought to be so vast that they would last one thousand years. Alas, they did not survive even 100.

Perhaps the comparison is imperfect, but history offers similar examples of grand predictions collapsing quickly. Adolf Hitler proclaimed a “Thousand-Year Reich,” yet it lasted only 12 years. In January 1989, East German leader Erich Honecker declared that the Berlin Wall would stand for another 50 or 100 years; it fell that same year, and he was soon removed from power. In 1961, Nikita Khrushchev promised that the Soviet Union would build communism within 20 years and that the current generation would live under it—yet that system collapsed in 1989.

Hence, we should think very long and hard before making long-term predictions.

Back to the Lost 40… When we arrived and parked our car, the weather suddenly turned very cloudy and it began to rain. Nevertheless, we managed to complete one short trail and get a real feel for the forest. The trees were impressive—rarely had I seen such massive pines. After a while the rain intensified, and we quickly headed back to the car, driving to the cabin.

Itasca State Park, the Mississippi Headwaters
One day I finally realized a dream I had had for many years—to swim across the mighty Mississippi River! After all, the Mississippi-Missouri river system is the world's fourth-longest, stretching 3,710–3,902 miles (5,970–6,270 km), trailing only the Nile, Amazon, and Yangtze. Not only did I traverse it once, but four times—and even swam under one of its bridges! It was not easy; I collected a few minor bruises along the way, but I made it. Of course, Catherine was standing by, ready to render assistance if needed—but fortunately, it was not necessary. Below are a few photos to prove this amazing accomplishment.

First, I am testing the water....

Since it's cold, I want to take my time

Finally, I'm swimming across the Mississippi River!!!

Wow, I'm even swimming under the first bridge over the Mississippi River!

Finally, I'm resting on the first bridge over the Mississippi River after my accomplishment!

And this is a panoramic view of that area
The Munchkins had often been coming to that same spot (47°14'23.1"N 95°12'28.4"W / 47.239750, -95.207889), not far from the cabin, and swimming in the Mississippi. When I tell my friends that Catherine allows her grandkids to swim in the Mississippi—alone, without life jackets—they are shocked and assume she is terribly irresponsible. Now I will be able to boast about MY landmark achievement, and they will look at me with admiration and awe—commending my bravery, courage, or perhaps foolishness… until they see the photos!

The Preachers' Convention that took place here in the 1920s, over one hundred years ago. Each evening, before turning in, the preachers met, preached sermons and prayed around the campfire
After my swimming success, we spent some time in Itasca State Park and did part of a trail in Preachers’ Grove, named after a preachers’ convention that camped here in the 1920s. Supposedly if you listen very carefully in the morning, you can still hear their sermons, echoing in the forest... It is one of the oldest red pine stands in the park. The trees began to grow after a major file burned through the area in the 1710s.

Thanks to this original advertising, we did not miss that place!
For a few years Catherine and I had been considering buying a small camper so that we could travel across Canada and the United States “in comfort.” We did a lot of research and concluded that while large rigs offer many advantages and almost home-like conditions, they also come with significant disadvantages: price, towing difficulty, parking, storage, limited campsite availability due to size, the need for a powerful (and expensive) truck, and many others.

The smallest, 13" Scamp. It's difficult to imagine that it has a bed for 2 people, a kitchen, a bathroom and plenty other optional things.
That is why we set our sights on smaller, practical campers. One of them was a 13-foot Scamp—very easily recognizable on the road. Scamps have an excellent reputation, hold their value well, have throngs of enthusiastic owners, and usually require a waiting period to purchase. Used ones are often snapped up quickly. They are not cheap, but we thought a Scamp could be a good investment if we wanted to spend most of the year traveling—in Canada and the northern United States in summer, and in the South in winter.

As we were driving from the cabin back to Victoria, I suddenly noticed a tall pole with a Scamp trailer mounted on top—and plenty of Scamp trailers around (46°49'28.7"N 94°30'09.5"W / 46.824639, -94.502639). We quickly made a U-turn. It was the Scamp Trailers factory in Backus—the only place in the world where Scamps have been manufactured continuously in the same location for over 50 years.

We spent more than an hour there, examining various models with a company representative as our guide. The egg-shaped campers, though small, offer surprisingly generous space. Some models come with four beds instead of two; others include a bathroom and shower. Numerous extras can be added. We learned a great deal about Scamps—and wished we could buy one.

Ain't they pretty!
By the way, the dry weight of such a trailer is about 1,500 lbs., so there is no need for a powerful truck to tow it. Considering its size, if you are NOT a minimalist (we are not), you might need to become one rather quickly! Nevertheless, its compact dimensions allow you to camp at many sites inaccessible to larger RVs—even some designed primarily for tents—and to travel comfortably on virtually any road suitable for your vehicle.

LEAVING VICTORIA AND DRIVING BACK HOME TO MISSISSAUGA, ONTARIO

Final Car Wash by Autumn — Stickers — Menomonie, WI — Antigo, WI — Looking for a Campsite — Bay Mills and Resort Casino, MI — Sunrise View RV Park, MI — Chutes Park, ON — Barrie, ON — Arriving Home

Before leaving for Canada, Autumn insisted on washing my car with a garden hose, bucket, and brush. She did such a wonderful job that the next time I washed it was 12 months later—in August of the following year! 

As I was packing, Everett also became fascinated with my vehicle. He sat in the driver’s seat pretending to steer, and later curled up inside, trying to fall asleep. Evenually he checked my tires adn decided to add some air!

Autumn washed my car before I left for Canada
The back of my vehicle was covered with stickers—mostly from parks—featuring canoes, moose, bears, and lakes. Both Munchkins loved those stickers. When I asked Autumn which car she liked best—mine, Cathy’s, or her mom’s—she immediately said, “Yours!” I even suggested to Catherine that we exchange our cars just to please Autumn, but she was not particularly eager to finalize such a deal.

Everett needs to grow a little before he can drive my car-he cannot even reach the gas or break pedals!
I left for home on Wednesday, September 25, 2024. A few days earlier I had made a reservation at Chutes Provincial Park (just in case), planning to stay there one night—September 27/28. I had also booked my favourite campsite at Six Mile Lake Provincial Park. After all, the weather forecast looked excellent, and I wanted to extend my vacation. I even contacted my friend Patrizia and invited her and her boyfriend to join me for a couple of nights.

After a while, he decided to take a short nap on my seat
I exited in Menomonie and stopped at Walmart, Aldi, and Goodwill. My next stop was in Antigo, where I again visited Goodwill and found even more CDs featuring intriguing lectures on Shakespeare and prominent works of literature.

Then Everett decided that my tires did not have enough air, so he brought the pump and added some air. I wonder if he also checked the oil?
Later, I drove to Boot Lake Campground in the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest and chose campsite #6 (45°16'07.0"N 88°38'42.5"W / 45.268617, -88.645150). The campground was close to Bagley Rapids, but since I was staying only one night, the exact location did not matter—I simply wanted to explore a new area. It was a pleasant campsite, but I was tired and quickly turned in. Besides, I did not feel well.

The next day I entered Michigan (from Marinette to Menominee) and drove along the shores of Green Bay. It was past 7:00 pm when I reached my intended destination, Three Rivers Campground, where I had camped twice before, most recently in 2023. To my surprise, every campsite was occupied.

Book Lake Campground
So I continued to Soldier Lake Campground, less than 10 minutes east—only to discover it was already closed for the season. I admit I had not checked the closing date, but normally it remains open until early October. For some reason, this year it had closed weeks earlier.

At Boot Lake Campground, campsite #6
I checked my GPS and headed toward Bay View Campground on the shores of Whitefish Bay (part of Lake Superior). I even passed the Hiawatha National Forest offices—but there was not a soul there and all buildings were dark. Unfortunately, the campground was closed as well.

Back on Road 28, I stopped at Northwoods Trails Cabins. Eventually a gentleman appeared, but he could not accommodate me (and my tent). He suggested I try nearby Brimley State Park. By then it was already dark—past 8:00 pm—but thankfully my GPS guided me there. Another disappointment: the park was closed due to construction. Had I known about that, I would have tried to camp at Three Rivers Campground—either just off road, or perhaps after talking to some campers, somebody would have let me spend one night on their spacious campsite.

Boot Lake Campground, campsite #6
I kept driving along W Lakeshore Drive by Waiska Bay. I passed a motel or two—one displayed a “No Vacancies” sign. I pulled over once more, staring at my GPS, trying to locate any campground (my phone did not work in the USA). I was on the verge of stopping at a motel or restaurant to ask for help (or for a room) when the GPS showed an RV campground nearby.

Normally I would never consider camping at an RV park. They are often open fields near highways, filled with massive motorhomes. But at that moment, I was willing to sleep anywhere.

And then—suddenly—I arrived at a casino. It was the Bay Mills Resort & Casino, overlooking Waiska Bay.

“Well,” I thought, “if worse comes to worst, I can spend the night at the casino resort.”

But directly across the road stood Sunrise View RV Park, with many vacant sites. The small office was closed, yet posted information explained that the RV park was part of the casino complex and payment had to be made inside.

My site #67 at Sunrise View RV Park, vis-a-vis Bay Mills Resort & Casino in Michigan
The RV park had capacity for 124 trailers. Each “sleeve” (as they described it) referred to an individual RV site with a picnic table and fire pit. Every site included water, 30- and 50-amp electricity, cable TV, and Wi-Fi access at no additional cost. I thought: I will be sleeping in such luxury—it was almost a pity I had not brought a television! The only feature I truly appreciated was the Wi-Fi (though the signal was weak at my distant site). There were also restrooms, showers, laundry facilities, and camera surveillance.

I chose site #67 (46°25'26.2"N 84°36'21.1"W / 46.423933, -84.605850) and went inside the casino. Even after 9:00 pm, the parking lot was full and the entire place was buzzing with activity and excitement. Unlike me, many people clearly love gambling. To be honest, it felt slightly depressing watching some elderly patrons who could barely walk—or breathe—yet were determined to try their luck.

Driving at sunset
I approached a friendly receptionist, paid about $25 USD, received my receipt, and returned to the campsite. I had no desire to explore further. I set up my tent and read for a while, sipping the last bottle of red wine (and I truly mean the LAST).

I’d like to point out right away that I have NOT been an alcoholic 😁. I consumed alcohol — about 95% of it in the form of beer and wine — socially, during vacations, camping trips, and around campfires. I often went for months without a drink (at the beginning of this century, I did not drink for over 5 years) simply because I did not feel like having one. However, when I tell people I don’t drink, the vast majority assume I quit because of alcohol abuse. That is not the case. My decision was based on health reasons.

Besides, somehow I do not even enjoy non-alcoholic beer anymore. When I brought a case of 18 cans to Restoule Park in the summer of 2025, I never ended up buying another one again. Instead, I started buying plenty of Polish mineral water, which is excellent!

Itasca State Park, Preachers' Grove
The following morning I still felt unwell. I decided to head straight home without any further overnight stays. I contacted Patrizia and informed her that, unfortunately, I was rescinding my invitation to Six Mile Lake Provincial Park, as I would not be stopping there after all.

I left very early. My only brief stop was at Highway 75 and 3 Mile Road for a quick breakfast and one final visit to Dollar Tree. Fifteen minutes later, I crossed the border. As always, I carried a list of what I was bringing back. Since I was permitted to return with goods worth up to $750 without paying duty, I was comfortably below the limit.

Itasca State Park, Preachers' Grove
I drove non-stop to Chutes Provincial Park—not to camp, but simply to cancel my reservation in person—and then continued on my way. The total distance from the last campsite to home was about 750 km (466 miles). It wasn’t that much, but I don’t enjoy such long solo drives, especially when I was feeling unwell—and by then, I already knew something was wrong with me.

Incidentally, technically this was almost the maximum distance I could drive my car on a single tank, assuming it consumed 6.9 liters per 100 km (34 mpg). Nevertheless, at the beginning of owning the car, I managed a record fuel consumption of 5.9 liters per 100 km (40 mpg), which would allow me to drive 880 km (547 miles) on a single tank—under optimal conditions (no passengers, no luggage, highway driving at 100 km/h, no traffic, no stopping, no A/C usage).

In winter, when I drive it very rarely and only on short trips, I don’t need to refuel for 2–3 months—but then it consumes over 16 liters per 100 km (15 mpg).

Itasca State Park, Preachers' Grove
My next stop was in Barrie to stretch and rest briefly. During a previous visit, I had noticed a European store called Avedis Deli and Cafe, and this time I decided to step inside. It was a Ukrainian grocery store carrying various Eastern European products, including sausages and meats. I bought a couple of snacks for the road—but they were nowhere near as good as Polish hams, bacon, or sausages. Perhaps that was the reason the store was permanently closed when I was writing this blog (February, 2026).

To avoid congestion on Highway 401, I took the 407 toll highway and quickly arrived home. I was exhausted and went straight to bed. The next day, I officially canceled the Six Mile Lake reservation.

CONCLUSION

It was yet another excellent trip. The drive to Minnesota, including several days at Bagley Rapids Campground, was wonderful. Staying in Victoria and at the cabin, taking numerous trips to new and interesting places, visiting the Arboretum, spending time with the Munchkins—everything went smoothly, and I truly enjoyed it all.



Unfortunately, the final days were dampened by health problems that turned out to be more serious than I initially expected. But that is life—sometimes there is little we can do and we must accept whatever it brings.

I am certainly looking forward to more such journeys across Ontario, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota.




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