Notes from damn near Canada (for reals)

Great White Dispatch

Notes From Damn Near Canada

No. 42
11/09/09
19:40

Airika, the dogs and I spent Halloween in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Beside a lake. Near an abandoned mental institution. Ok, that last part was a lie.

Airika is batshit and loves camping. Me, I enjoy emphatically not camping. Call me crazy, but when I have a few days to kill vacation-style, I enjoy simple things. The beach. Warmth. Pooping indoors. So staying at the Snowshoe Country Lodge way up in the true Damn Near Canada seemed a decent compromise. Except I still had to shit outside and bathe from a bucket. Methinks I was bamboozled.

Snowshoe Country Lodge is about 4.5 hours norther than our place, way up in real moose-and wolf country. We were instructed to keep our speeds down near the camp, because 'moose are not afraid of cars.' Well.


We actually saw no moose, but we did hear wolves off in the distance every now and again.And then there was the frequent wailing of Eddie, the camp malamute (or husky or wolfish-type dog). Nothing like being jerked out of a Friday the 13th nightmare at 3am by an ear-splitting howl just outside your window. Terrifying and mournful, all at once. Like waking up to that creepy girl from The Ring standing at the foot of your bed, singing The Smiths.


Yep. You wanted water, you had to pump it your owndamnself. Vacation!

The trails around the lodge were pristine. More vague gaps between the trees rather than actual trails, it's clear that not a whole helluva lot of people get up to these parts.

Snowshoe Lodge is perfectly situated for either summer, when you can spend the time sunning on the banks of Sand Lake, or deep winter when you can snowshow (dar) or do some cross-country skiing. When we were there, it was just kinda wet. Checking this place out in the dead of winter, when everything is solid white and civilization is likely unattainable would be interesting. Of course, taking a 30-degree dump sucked enough. Take 40 of those degrees away? I might just start shitting in the wood-burning stove.

No running water or indoor terlet, but goddammit, our cabin was handicap-friendly.

Moss and lichen covered everything.

This is where we found all the bodies.


Tired old dogs.

A ton more pics at http://www.flickr.com/photos/vangoat.