Inverhuron – Not the Highlands of Scotland.

Friday

The weather forecast said cloudy with an occasional shower. Well, I'd like to take issue with those forecasters on the meaning of the word occasional. Is every five minutes during the entire morning occasional? I don't think so. Of course, the showers stopped being occasional and morphed into one big shower lasting two hours, so I suppose they were right in the end.

Anyway, this was not the sort of weather we like to load and hitch the trailer in and is most definitely not the weather that we'd normally expect for the last week of June. It is, of course, exactly the weather that we always have when loading and hitching the trailer. One day, when it isn't raining, we'll be really shocked!

So, having loaded and hitched in the rain, Mrs T, the Tadpoles and I all climbed into the Toadmobile and headed north for Inverhuron, way up on the shore of Lake Huron.

We set the Sat Nav even though we know the route reasonably well, if only to keep an eye on the time and distance. Apart from the computer generated voice mangling pretty much every name, today he was most insistent on us turning left off Highway 2 well before we wanted to. I know not why he wanted us to head to Sarnia but he did; only we didn't want to play. So we endured his call for 'turn left....” for about 20 minutes and wondered about his dogged determination; uppity bloody machine!

Once on Highway 21 (The Bluewater Highway), we set the cruise control at 80 kph and let the Toadmobile go. Towed Haul was happy behind us and it was a straight three and a half hour run up to Inverhuron Provincial Park. The Tadpoles read and slept whilst Mrs T and I kept an eye out for the ridiculous; concrete chickens, imitation dogs, weird names (Bogie Street!) and humungous trailers. All of these things existed on Highway 21, and in abundance; we were happy as Toads in a pond.

Inverhuron Provincial Park lies in the shadow of Bruce Generating Station, the second largest nuclear generation site in the world and the biggest in North America. Whilst it was producing Heavy Water, right up until 1996, the park's campground was closed on safety and security grounds. Now that it was just a couple of reactors it was safe to camp (of course) so the campgrounds had been extensively refurbished and reopened in 2005, leaving us a with a fine and well kept camping area. Indeed, our pull though slot was straight, level and covered in gravel; perfect for a wet weekend. The only bad thing was the distance of the plots to the electricity connection point. In keeping the plots apart from one another (admirable), the park people put one power pillar between two sites (not so wise), leaving huge distances to cover with your bits of electric string. The first site we'd reserved turned out to have a cable run of over 100 feet, so we swapped our reservation for one that was a little less extravagant with its cable requirements. We actually carry 75 feet of cable but as each 50 foot length of 30 Amp cable costs $100 or more and weighs a ton, we thought that would be a sensible amount of cable; not here, though! That said, the Park people will lend you a cable if you want and I suspect that they do a roaring trade. The irony of the power pillars and the proximity to the Bruce Generating Station is not lost on me.

Camping it up at Inverhuron

Getting set up was quick and easy, even with the Tadpoles about. We were able to get out and explore after a wisely pre-prepared meal of chicken casserole. Even though the rain had stopped it was really overcast so, even though it was some time before the sun was due to set, we were in a dim light as we toured campground. We were only a few meters from the lake, that roared as its waves came in on a flat rock shelf. The woods in which the camping ground was situated were quite deep and dark but, as we were later to find, were full of wild flowers. We made it around to the beach, a lovely curved strip of sand backed by dunes. It was great to be walking out on yet another beach, albeit in the gathering gloom; it's why we bought Towed Hall of course.

When we turned in, the temperature was reading 11C, not really right for the last weekend in june. The forecasters did hold out some better news for Saturday but when are they ever right?

Saturday

When were the forecasters ever right? Not today!

I slept well so didn't hear the rain but it had certainly come down. Everything outside was wet and the sky was ominously grey. The temperature had gone down to 10C. A typical camping day, then.

More rain.

The campground shower block that was closest was shiny and new, so I had high hopes. I hit the "go" button for the water and out came such a high pressured rush that I could hardly put my hand under it. It wasn't particularly warm water, either. I persevered, though, getting battered and cooled all at once, wondering how long the resulting headache would last. Back at the trailer, I had inadvertently switched off the water heater in the night (who put the switch so close to the bathroom light anyway?), so whilst Mrs T had a shower in the trailer, that wasn't so warm either. A great start to the day.

We wanted to go into the nearby town of Kincardine to visit the Farmers' Market, so were all scrubbed up and ready to go quite early. Sadly, hats and sweatshirts were required and the weather didn't look like it would improve. We found the market but it was in such an out of the way place that it wasn't very well populated either by farmers or customers. Still, we picked up some baked goods and eyed up the Menonite stall holders in their traditional dress; a sort of Amish Lite. That phase of the day was completed in ten minutes so we headed into downtown Kincardine. Then headed out again. It wasn't the day for sightseeing so we decided to head south to Goderich to the (rather excellent) bakers' there. As we drove, the cloud came down and so did the rain, in a kind of on and off drizzle in which an umbrella is useless. Goderich was busy as was their farmers' market, which was a little livlier than the one in Kincardine. We bought some German pretzels (at a price) then repaired to Culbert's the Baker to stock up on bread, cakes and buns; they not only do great bread but their custard slices are just so yummy!

As the rain was still coming down and we were already getting moans from the Tadpoles about being cold, we climbed back into the Toadmobile and headed north again, this time for a call on the Pine River Cheese factory (No cheese made on the premises yet). As it turned out, the factory shop was OK and stocked some interesting stuff, like imported English Chocolate Digestive Biscuits and German Frankfurter sausages. We did buy some cheese, as well. The sun even came out (briefly) whilst we were there.

We then made our way back to the campsite and set about demolishing some of the goodies we'd bought in the morning. Such was the weather that we had to sit in the trailer to eat, which is not a good thing to have to do at this time of year. I know we should be grateful that we're not in a tent, but I don't think it's too much to ask for a little bit of fine weather. Tsk.

The afternoon was taken up with a nice walk through the park, looking at and photographing some gorgeous wild flowers. The Tadpoles wanted to swim but the water was grim looking, grey and very cold; even the Big Tadpole wouldn't go in when we eventually called his bluff. We also watched some mini Crayfish lurking on the sand and managed to get wet feet in the (surprisingly fast moving) surf. Whenever I encounter these beaches I always struggle to comprehend that the water isn't salty because it's a lake, not the sea. It's a very big lake but it's still a lake. I'm just an immigrant, though, so I'm still learning about these things.

A Slipper Orchid, of which there were a few to be seen

Back at the trailer and it was time to break out the firewood. The park had sold us some gold plated bags of wood (they'd have to be gold plated at those prices – all proceeds to the Park, though) and it turned out to be some pretty good burning material. It burned slowly but very hot, which meant that our meal was cooked in 10 minutes and we still had a bag and a half of wood to get through. No matter, we did the campfire thing, making S'mores and having a jolly good sing song. Well, we would have had a sing song but you know how strict they are about excessive noise in these campgrounds......

Lake Huron is famous for its sunsets so we were delighted to see the clouds part in the early evening and the sun head westwards towards the horizon. At about 9.20pm we left the jolly camp fire and stood on the edge of the woods overlooking the lake and over the next 40 minutes witnessed a beautiful sun set. I took so many photographs that I could fill a book with them! 

Sunset over Lake Huron

Back at the Campfire we sat and toasted ourselves before heading off to bed. The weather still wasn't playing nicely because whilst it remained dry, the temperature dipped below 10C, which I haven't tired of saying, is not good for the end of June. What would Sunday bring?

Camp Fire Frivolity

Sunday

Sunday brought 11C but at least it was sunny. The trailer was all steamed up, like it was in April but as I headed out to the euphemistically named “Comfort Station” (shower block to ordinary folk), things looked decidedly on the up. Well, they would be given that we were heading home.

I left the snoozers and snorers in the trailer whilst I sorted myself a cup of coffee and sat out in the sun, like a big fat lizard warming my blood. I hesitate to mention the big scoop of ground coffee I dropped on the floor of the trailer and had to clean up whilst the Tadpoles slumbered, not because it was evidence of my cack-handedness but more because whilst my Aero Press coffee system might make an excellent cup of coffee, it's still a faff to do when creeping around prone bodies, all snoring their heads off.

I was joined by Mrs T when she realised that the sun was up and we enjoyed a few warm and Tapole free minutes just idling in the sunshine.

Proof of fine weather!

Breakfast (when everyone had surfaced) was supposed to be pancakes and syrup but, due to the entirely non-stick nature of our non-stick electric skillet, the pancakes stuck firmly to the pan and what remained turned into a lukewarm, semi-congealed mess. Toast for me, then! We resolved then and there to chuck the skillet in the bin and stick to toast and cereal in future; there's decision making for you.

There was another Airstream on site (an '03 Safari, 28' with slideout) and its owners dropped by for chat. (That's Airstreamers for you). They were a retired couple, non-churchy (hurrah!), non-Wally Byam Caravanners (hurrah!) and avid bird watchers (interesting). They had been on a break from watching birds (there wasn't much of note in the park, apparently) and were heading off to Rondeau later in the day to meet up with friends, so whilst keen they were not always on watch, as it were. I liked that.

As the weather was fine at last, I took the Tadpoles down to the rocky lake shore again and we paddled for a while. Where the rock shelf ended, the water looked clear and inviting but, the gradual numbness spreading up my legs told me that it might be a tad chilly in there. Again, the big Tadpole was desperate to go in but relinquished his big idea as he paddled. Maybe it'll be better in August?

Breaking camp is a slow process with our little helpers, ever keen though they are. We divvied up the jobs and were hitched up and ready to roll just on checkout time. We stopped to dump the waste tanks (yes, that waste) and whilst it's a stinky old job, it is kind of cathartic; cleansing, even. Small Tadpole helped out (I've told her that flip-flops are the worst footware for dumping poo, but she never listens), she seems to have a thing for the latex disposable gloves that I use. Weird!

Heading back south on Highway 21, there was plenty of traffic, all of it wanting to overtake us. Not that I was concerned; we simply set the cruise control at the speed limit and let the Toadmobile do the work. I still struggle with people who tailgate, so close to the back of the trailer that I can't see them at all. Surely if they dropped back a little, not only would they become visible (and therefore safer) but they'd get a better view ahead themselves and be able to make good decisions about overtaking. As it is, they veer out sharply and try suicidal passing moves, then get all cross with us because (gasp!) we're travelling (only) at the speed limit. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

On the road

Mrs T had prepared sarnies for the trip so we pulled of the road in the little town of Bayfield. Bayfield is posh. It has a heritage trail, old houses and some very expensive shops. So, as is our wont, we parked up at the end of Main Street and broke open the picnic, thus instantly lowering the tone of the place. We did park in front of a building site so I reckon the locals (and visitors) should have welcomed a lovely, retro-styled, silver trailer in their midst. I bet they didn't though! Still, we paid our dues by buying $4 ice creams and generally looking like trailer trash.

The remainder of the trip home was uneventful, albeit that there was more traffic on the cross-country section towards Bothwell and Thamesville than I'd seen before. Not that it was a problem, but people flying past us on country roads when we were up around 90 Kph can be a bit disconcerting. We managed a fairly healthy gas consumption figure, especially given that we were more heavily loaded than usual. Keeping it slow really does save fuel; and is a touch safer, too.

Our next jaunt is to Rondeau Park for three nights, the first week of the summer hols; won't that be fun? The weather forecast isn't great but as the forecasters here can't get it right for tomorrow, I'm not worrying too much about next week.

Hi de hi, campers!