They Think It's All Over...

... well, it is for this year.

Winding the camping season up, we headed again for Rondeau, which was resplendent in autumn colours. Tadpoles in attendance (of course they really wanted to come and leave their home comforts for a weekend!), we drove down under ominous looking skies and set up on pitch 67, the one we had used last week. 

Site 67 - very autumnal for Towed Haul and the Toadmobile

I still didn't get the backing up right, despite a much better approach. I turned a bit early and, looking over my right shoulder I couldn't see much. My trusty spotter, Mrs Toad, pointed out the error of my ways so I did what all chastened backer-uppers do and went forward to come in again. The pesky tree was in the way once more but we rolled gently back onto site and decided we were positioned well enough. Pushing a trailer backwards requires you to turn the front wheels of the car away from the direction you want to go in, which is confusing enough, but viewing that through a mirror as I was, my tiny brain sort of imploded. Hey ho, we landed safely.

The plan was to cook burgers and sausages on the fire but, just about as soon as we were ready to commence, the rain started. Lighting fires in the rain isn't so hard but the wet stuff just kept falling from the sky so we retreated inside, hoping it would stop. No such luck, I'm afraid, as it just fell all the more. Mrs Toad made an executive decision and we boys were despatched to Godfather's Pizza in Ridgetown for vittles. You may remember Godfather's from a previous trip, the purveyor of gold-plated pizzas; this time Mrs T whittled them down to a pair of silver-plated 'half and halfs' so thankfully we didn't need to consider selling the dog in order to pay for our meal.

The rain kept up all night whilst we had a game or two of Yahtzee and, for once, headed to bed at a reasonable hour. I did give the hound her nightly constitutional at about 10pm and wasn't surprised that most of the other campers were hunkered down for the night, lights off and probably snoring their heads off.

Saturday was grey, grey, grey but seriously enlivened by a lavishly hot shower at the excellent Comfort Station, that is after Doggie and I had explored the camp site in the morning gloom. One other Airstream to report, a 2011 25' Flying Cloud that hailed from Can-Am RV, as does Towed Haul. I was a bit cheeky and walked right through their campsite to get a look; it's not a heinous crime to crash another's site but it is poor form, although I don't think anyone was stirring in said Flying Cloud so I wasn't noticed.  I did check the dumpsters for trapped raccoons and, sure enough, a pair of eyes glared up at me from behind a furry mask in one of the skips. At least I could see now how they get in as one of the heavy plastic lids was skewed off to one side. I thought of lifting the hound up so she could have a look but I'm not sure what she'd make of a trapped raccoon so I demurred.

Dank Saturday Morning

When finally the rest of the Toads surfaced we drove out to Ridgetown and to Pinnell's Bakery. They didn't have any big meat pies in but we did get some sausage rolls (quite good, I can report to my fellow Brits) and cakes. Methinks we shall have to head out to Pinnell's more often, even when not camping. Lunch was acquired, once again, at Mr Horton's fine coffee house and we motored back to the Park to consume it.

Camping seems to assume a routine and that afternoon, as seems to always happen on a Saturday, we bundled the hound into the car and headed for the dog beach. Two poops and two pees plus a load of very excitable running and the dog-faced one was done in, ready to catch up on those 20 hours sleep a day that she tries to maintain. It's great letting the beast free in the open spaces, despite the park rules, and lovely to see her at speed. I'd probably have leashed her had there been anyone else about but we had that section of the beach to ourselves, so running was the order of the day.

Saturday evening was dedicated to a rather splendidly built camp fire and some sizzling sausage and burgers. The big tadpole is getting better at cooking over the inferno but he still lacks that essential bit of insanity that's required to get close to the conflagration. I keep telling him that it's only a bit of smoke and flame but he seems to object to regular singeing for some reason. He's a strange Tadpole, that one.

A splendid fire

We watched a serious DVD after supper, but don't ask me what it was about because I don't remember! I do remember remarking that it was a reasonable film but clearly it didn't move me. 

A dry but cold night morphed into a bright and sparkly Sunday morning so, armed with Smartphone and dog I headed out to take some photos. First stop was the dumpster to see if I could get a picture of the trapped raccoon. Imagine my surprise to find a whole family of the blighters in there, looking pretty scared but at least getting some comfort from the presence of their kin. I think it was big news amongst the campers because a few people wandered up and, like me, took pictures. I didn't find out until later but there was a lone raccoon in one of the other dumpsters, too; pesky varmints! Being a good Alumaholic, I did manage to sidle up to another Airstream that had arrived the previous afternoon. The lady of the house was quite strident and was happily bellowing at her dogs so I didn't engage the owners in conversation.

Slightly nervous 'coons

 
On these weekend jaunts, by the time we're all up and breakfasted (about 1pm!), it's time to be packing up, which is what we did. I was a little melancholy knowing that this was our last trip of the year but the relatively fine weather was cheering enough to put that smile back on my face. 

So that was it. Heading home and thinking about clearing out and cleaning Towed Haul ready for winter storage. A brief season for us but enjoyable all the same. The tadpoles sort of enjoyed it, the hound certainly did; as for us toads, we can't wait for next year.

As a postscript, young Willow picked up a couple of Deer Ticks on the trip, one I managed to get out properly, the other I made a bit of a mess of. Dog lovers everywhere will be pleased to hear that the hound will be having tests for Lyme Disease next year but that as the Ticks were pretty immature, the likelihood of infection was low. Fingers crossed, eh?

Sunny Sunday

After North We Went South

A weekend at Rondeau Provincial Park beckoned, albeit that we had just missed John and Chloe from Paignton who had been staying there in a rented Truck Camper the week before - the strange things these Brits get up to, eh?

Beauty and The Beast. John and Chloe's rented Truck Camper

Hitching Towed Haul to the back of the Toadmobile is always an intricate process but just too boring for non-caravan types, so I'll just gloss over that bit - a bit. Towed Haul weighs in at around seven thousand pounds, about three and a half old fashioned tons, with about one thousand of those pounds (half a ton) at the point at which you connect the caravan to the hitch ball. That's far too much for the rear axle of the car to take so we have a system of weight distribution installed. It acts a bit like a wheel barrow, adding leverage and moving the fulcrum closer to the centre of the car, not subtracting weight but spreading it over the two axles of the car and the two axles of the caravan. It's dashed handy in that it means our back end isn't dragging on the road and our headlights are not pointing skywards, which is always an advantage when driving. It also helps the overall stability when travelling at speed, because you don't want three and half tons of aluminium and plywood getting out of control.

The doin's at the back

It's only a short run down to Rondeau but it necessarily includes a section on the grid system that makes up our city's roads. Given that the car and trailer combined run to about forty five feet in length, with a bend about a third of the way along, the many right angle turns on narrow and busy roads can be a tester. We have a couple of extended mirrors on the car for seeing behind Towed Haul, but they're better employed, along with the car's usual mirrors, to give me a view of where the caravan's wheels are as I turn. As with any long vehicle, I have to overshoot the turns a bit as well as keeping an eye out for the toes of pedestrians and the hoods of inappropriately situated prams. I've only bumped the curb once and not yet hit anyone, so things are going well so far.

The Municipality of Chatham-Kent doesn't have the most exciting topography in Canada, or Ontario for that matter, but a cross country run through the fields of ripe corn on a sunny Friday afternoon takes some beating. It may not be spectacular but it's all neat and tidy and really very pleasing to the eye, especially when the light is so good. What the Municipality does have, though, is some really straight roads; apart from a little squiggle out by the City cemetery, it was arrow straight highways all the way, which for Johnny Foreigner (me!) is still quite entertaining.

Rondeau Park was nice in the evening light. Our site was flat, well screened and only a short hobble from the 'Comfort Station' - toilet and shower block to the non-euphemised. Before backing in, I remembered to remove the anti-sway bars from the hitch system, something that's not vital when going backwards but gives a slightly better turn radius. The people who set these parks up seem to delight in putting trees in the most inconvenient places so on this occasion my mighty, single sweep into the space allotted was brought to a premature end by a spindly little bugger on my left, so I had to readjust said mighty sweep and consequently bolloxed up the approach. Still, I'll know how to do it next time.

Dog walking and snooping were dispensed with before settling into baked potatoes and good old ENGLISH Heinz baked beans in the bowels of Towed Haul. It was gearing up to be a cold night but, and I have to mention this, there was no rain despite the awning being deployed - I thought perhaps we'd shifted that particular monkey from our backs but the remainder of the weekend proved me horribly wrong.

Ah, supper.

Saturday started fine and cold so the hound and I headed off to check out the caravan competition. No Airstreams, hardly any tents and quite a lot of mobile blocks of flats, otherwise known as Fifth Wheelers. We did see, at a distance, another Greyhound (dog, not bus) but other than that and a freshening wind, all was benign and peaceful. Later, we took the hound to the beach for a three-pee run around and followed that with a trip over to Ridgetown to raid the baker's. Actually, we went to Ridgetown first I think, but such is the slow and satisfying pace of life whilst glamping that minor details like time are lost. Either way, Willow was delirious at having the freedom of the beach and we were similarly delirious with our sausage rolls, cheese and ham rolls and our cakes. We're simple people who get pleasure from simple things, as you can see.

We've sort of nailed the water supply and waste in Towed Haul when we're not hooked up to either water or sewer mains. On arrival at the campground, we dump both the waste tanks, even though they only have the waste from my cleaning regime in them; that way  we start properly empty. Then we fill the fresh water tank with around fifty US gallons, which sees us through the weekend usually. We could fill up at home but fifty gallons of water weighs nearly 420 lbs and you don't need to be towing that around unless you really need to. We don't drink that water but we do use it for everything else, including the shower and the toilet. The waste tanks, Black for toilet waste and Grey for everything else, fill up gradually although because Mrs T prefers not to use the Comfort Station, the Grey tends to fill faster than the black with the shower use. So, with a plan born out of experience, we decided to even things out a bit and started to dump used washing up water into the toilet, something that really works for us. Not only do the tanks fill more evenly but a load of soapy water in the Black tank helps work on its solids content, aiding the dump out at the end of the trip and keeping the tank free of obstructions. I'm sure others do this but I've not seen it written elsewhere so I think we'll claim this a Toad Tip. 

Talking of water, the rain started up in the afternoon whilst we were sitting out under the awning. It started and didn't bloody stop! It's not so bad being outside under said awning in the rain as it's an effective cover, but the noise was getting a bit much. We retired inside and stayed there, only surfacing to go and get the dog soaked at bedtime, which was fun. I also hauled in the awning in the evening because the wind was up, but the rain kept up all night. Tsk.

Saturday supper was a shop bought Quiche Florentine and a pack of tiny potatoes. I only mention this because in boiling the spuds we used another Toad Tip - cook 'em outside! We have a small electric "ring" that we can plug into the outlet on the outside of Towed Haul. Once boiling, the water generates a lot of steam and keeping it outside is a good thing. We also use the Park's electricity, which we've paid for, rather than our own propane. Hey, that's two Toad Tips!

So, Sunday morning was a bit better, at least not raining. I pulled out the awning again so that it could dry off a bit, then squelched around the campground with the Hound. We did meet the other Greyhound, Jojo, who had Willow jumping backwards in a single leap of about ten feet. Willow is a little highly strung but she took exception to Jojo barking just when she was getting close. Ours is not a brave Greyhound.

Not a brave greyhound

Whilst on our walk, I had to deposit some rubbish into the skip near the front entrance. I don't know what made me look but as I lifted the lift I saw a raccoon scuttling around in there. The skip was all but empty and I have no idea how the little fellow gained access, but there was no way he was getting out without some help. As ever, I didn't have my camera so I have no evidence of the furry felon, but I had a good look at him and he didn't look too concerned - perhaps this is something that happens to raccoons a lot; he certainly wasn't going to starve in there. I walked the hound up to the Park Office to report the incident but there was no one about so I made a mental note to let the rangers know about it when we were leaving.

All too soon it was hitching time again and we were heading out of the park.  We'd watched our neighbours trying to get the hitch to marry with the trailer but they were struggling a bit. The wife just stood and watched whilst the husband moved his truck an inch, struggled out to look and then had to get back in to move it another inch and this happened quite a few times. I'm not sure why wifey wasn't communicating, perhaps they'd had a hitching row at some point? Sometimes, these men are so macho that they don't want any help, especially from wifey, so maybe that was his game. They hitched eventually and were off before us but I have to say when that Mrs Toad ably assisted me to get our tow ball positioned correctly on the second pass, I felt truly smug; communication is everything!

We'd used pretty much all our water, had satisfyingly full waste tanks and kept Towed Haul in good shape all weekend - maybe we're getting the hang of it at last?

One more trip this season and that will be next weekend, on the same plot at the same campsite. Firestarter William will be in charge of the cooking so we're hoping that we don't end up with another gold plated pizza from Ridgetown. Happy camping, peeps.

Head North Young Man

The tadpoles have departed for "The Coddage" with their father so it's time for Mrs Toad and I to hit the road with Towed Haul and discover some more of the delights of Ontario. When I say discover, I mean revisit, of course, because this time it's our second trip of the year to Point Farms Provincial Park, on the Eastern Shore of Lake Huron. I tried to fob the hound off onto the neighbours so that we could have a really relaxing weekend but (quite sensibly) they weren't up for that - just kidding neighbours, Doggie does like her camping.

I really like the run up to Point Farms. Firstly we head out along the Thames River to Thamesville then strike north, across country towards Lambton Shores and the southern end of Huron. The scenery goes from dead flat farmland with few trees in the south to a pleasant undulating farmland with a few more trees the further north you go. The roads are mostly arrow straight and punctuated by right angle turns here and there, with the occasional swoop right then left to accommodate a bridge across a river or creek, seeing as those cursed natural features don't conform to the grid pattern of the roads.

Thamesville, Ontario

It had rained all Friday morning, contrary to the forecast, but cleared up as we headed out. The sun, though, brought out a wicked northerly wind which not only lowered the temperature a fair bit but meant we had a stiff headwind; bye-bye gas mileage. Still, the run up to Lambton Shores was nice and it meant we went through the town of Watford. Now Watford has a couple of key features for us, not least of them being it's named for Watford in the fair county of Hertfordshire and that is the birthplace of Mayne Minor. The other thing is its bridge over the railway. There's nothing unusual about a bridge over a railway, normally, but this one is uncommonly high and as you crest it you get an aerial view of the the little town's Main Street, which is unusual. The bridge is quite new, I think, and would have replaced a road crossing at street level so I think we're fortunate to get this special view. That said, we're probably the only people in Ontario to appreciate it.

From a few years back, before the railway bridge was built - imagine this view but from about 25 feet up.

Once at Lambton Shores, we're on the southern edge of Lake Huron and go for quite a few miles through woods that are to the rear of a large area of sand dunes. The road is littered with trailer parks, some smarter than others, and shacks selling firewood. I think this is camping Mecca in the summer, especially as the road leads us through to the surprisingly trendy lake side resort of Grand Bend, a little slice of California in Southern Ontario. I have to say that the resemblence to California is limited to a couple of months in summer as the rest of the year the place is shut up tight and quite often buried under snow.

Grand Bend - in the summer, obviously!

From Grand Bend we follow the edge of the lake along the aptly named Bluewater Highway; aptly because when you do catch sight of the lake it's certainly very blue, turqouise even. Only today, the turqouise was fetchingly topped with a foaming array of waves breaking on the surface; it sure was windy. I also like the Bluewater highway for its dips and swoops, it not being quite as straight as some roads around these parts. There's a speed limit of 80 Km per hour, which I stick to, and I not only get to enjoy the scenery but save some money on gas as well. It's win, win, eh?

Pitching up at the park gates a little after six, we were surprised to find quite a lot of other trailers lined up to book in. In the gatehouse I found out why; a lone Park Warden (and I wanted to call him a Lone Ranger, tsk) was serving a long line of people, all of whom had some difficulty with their booking. He told the assembled throng that he was on his own as two of his team had cleared off, apparently sick, and left him alone to deal with the hoards. Poor fellow. It was warm in the gatehouse and the young man was fully kitted out in a quasi-police uniform, complete with stab-vest (although no gun, I was pleased to note) and utility belt, all of which he managed to shed before I arrived at the head of queue. He was very quick to keep offering his apologies but I think most of us in there were more than sympathetic, even though I was in there long enough to hear Wings, The Pet Shop Boys and The Tragically Hip from the piped music system.

We managed to build a nice queue behind us as we topped up the fresh water tanks at the dump station, partly because it took me a while to work out how to get the tap to give up its water and partly because it takes quite a time to dispense 50 gallons through a glorified garden hose. Heading to our allotted site, I had the bright idea of approaching it from a different direction, which was fine except that it opened up a couple of new positional possibilties for Towed Haul that we hadn't considered. So, after a few failed attempts at fancy parking we ended up backing off the site, doing a circuit of the campground and approaching from the proper direction. Sometimes these sites look quite inviting but when you actually try to manoeuvre a 15 foot long car with a 30 foot long trailer attached to it into the space, things start to leap out and bite your bum, like trees, posts and dips in the ground. Still, arriving correctly and backing in as we should have done in the first place was simple and only took a couple of minutes, which is just as well as it was getting dark. Our abortive manoeuvres were also the source much concern (or mirth) for our neighbours; I have a feeling that they thought were a tad deranged. On our circuit of the campground, we happened upon three other Airstreams, all in the same loop road but not together, as far as we could see. Not an impromptu rally then! A little later on, when exercising the hound, I stumbled upon another Airstream, so that was four plus Towed Haul; and I'd only ever seen one other Airstream in a Park campground at the same time as us before.

Setting up went well and the all important fairy lights were attached to the awning in good time. The trouble was, we should have tried the water heater first because as the light was getting dimpsy, I watched the flame in the burn tube splutter and stop and realised that we had yet another squatter setting up home in the propane feed pipe. Sensibly we gave up all thoughts of dismantling the pesky device in the dark and put that job off until the morning. The Toads then retired to Towed Haul and settled into camping proper with baked potatoes, English Heinz beans and cheese triangles for tea - proper grub.

Avid Toad fans may remember us blooding the Kuerig coffee machine last week, well our new addition to the camping inventory this week was the smallest of the Tassimo range of coffee makers. The Kuering is the bees knees but for the trailer it was a touch too big and, more importantaly for certain members of the team, didn't do Cadbury's Hot Chocolate. So, the Tassimo was called from the substitutes bench to fill the void and performed well on its first outing, dispensing said hot chocolate and some rather nice Nabob brand coffee. The Tassimo is a little noisier than King Kuerig and is a little more involved but the benefits of having hot chocolate almost on tap certainly outweighed any of those little niggles. I have to say, though, that we were more than a little miffed to discover that, after having scoured the stores for the best price on the Tassimo (and attaining what we thought was rock bottom), the cursed thing appeared on sale at Canadian Tire for $9 less. Tsk.

Hot Chocolate on tap - almost.

Anyway, listening to the local station My FM, we whiled away the evening chatting and working our way through a moderate amount of Guinness and wine before hitting the hay at a reasonably sensible hour. The hound misbehaved somewhat with a burning desire to sleep on our bed, but we did manage to get her to settle on the banquette eventually. Before turning in, I nipped out to secure the awning with a couple of guy ropes as the wind was pretty stiff, even parked in amongst the trees. In the dark I managed to misplace one of the ropes and had to lash up a temporary rope out of shorter bits and then, in my hurry to get into my pit I forgot to close the tailgate on the car.

So Saturday dawned, bright and sunny if a little cool, and it was at that point I realised I'd left the car tailgate open all night. It was, fortunately, a dry night and also one where the raccoons, and bears, weren't sufficiently curious enough to visit. I'd even left the hound's unwashed food bowl in there, surely enough to attract some attention from the wildlife, but no, all remained undisturbed.

I mention bears because my to my surprise there was a bear warning posted up at the shower block. It was specific to this very campground and mentioned recent bear activity. I had no idea that bears were to be found in this part of the Province, thinking them to be pretty rare even up on the Bruce Peninsular about 100 miles north of Goderich. That said, the park is probably quite a draw for all wildlife what with hundreds of campers cooking outside all through the summer.

Point Farms Resident

After a lesuirely ablution routine, we settled to croissants for brekkie and then made our way to the beach, via a spin around the campground where we discovered yet another Airstream, bringing the total to five plus Towed Haul. The beach was glorious; sunny with even the wind seeming reasonably pleasant. The water was various shades of vivid blue and the place was pretty quiet, which is why we let the hound off her leash. She had been really excited as we approached but now freed of her tether she ran in broad circles around the beach, stopping only to wade into the water and to dig furiously in the sand, apparently in search of something that she never did find. I don't think I've ever seen Willow run that much; she was certainly enjoying herself and we were enjoying watching her. She kept up the running for ages, far more than her usual 30 seconds, which did auger well for a quiet night punctuated only by her snores. How little I knew!

The hound and the blue

After lunch we motored into our favourite little town, Goderich. Gas was surprisingly cheaper than down south and the little "Gas Bar" we used had old fasioned pumps that you had to lift a big lever to get it working - it was quite like the olden days. Goderich is famed for its Cream Puffs but today we settled on a box full of vanilla slices from Culbert's Bakery; well you have to get something, don't you? Mrs Toad spotted a nice little table lamp in a Jewellers' shop and managed to buy it after some curious interplay between her and the slightly oddball pair who were running the store. I missed all the fun because I was outside with the hound, who was a bit edgy being in town, quiet though it was, especially as nearly everyone wanted to come over and pet her. Tail between her legs, Willow hid behind me, resisting all attempts at introductions; I suppose that she really is the scardiest Greyhound in the world. The town square (which is actually a circle) looked barren still after the big storm a year or so ago, the courthouse in the centre of the circle looking big and imposing without its curtain of trees, which were all lost in that storm. Most of the businesses were up and running again although there were two noticeable gaps in the main facade where buidings had been demolished rather than repaired. We did a quick run down to the harbour and beach area to see a lake freighter heading away from the port and to watch the waves on the turquoise water; all very pleasant but a Tassimo coffee and a clutch of vanilla slices was calling us back to Towed Haul so we didn't hang around.

Good shot of Goderich and harbour. Today there isn't a single tree around the Courthouse in the square (circle).

The campground being quite full, we did like to browse around and look at the other campers. Most seemed quite friendly, loved our "Briddish"" accents but more than that, they all loved the hound. She seemed a little more confident away from the town and managed to pluck up the courage to sniff a couple of people; I wonder if they realised how honoured they were? We even managed to have a quick chat with the Camp Hosts, a couple who get to dispense help and guidance to the other campers for a week or two in return for free camping. Their trailer was interesting, looking for all the world like a European caravan, with a big panoramic window on the front and that curious upturned boat look of the aerodynamic roof. It turned out that whilst made in Canada, the trailer was indeed modelled on the European styles - see, I know a European caravan when I see one and I'm hardly nerdy at all!

One of our Airstream neighbours

Saturday night on the campground was quite lively, with some outsized camp fires and a few noisy gatherings going on. One of the nicest things is to see all the fairy lights hung on the awnings; it makes for a very jolly campground and is one of the reasons that we get our lights up quickly. There were a few people tent camping and I was thinking that with a projected low of 5C for the coming night, they should thoroughly warm themselves on those huge camp fires before heading to bed. On our nocturnal tour, we also took the opportunity to look at the stars, not always so visible at home with the street lighting and cars doing their best to hinder the view. It's nice be out where there's no light at all, although with a hound in tow, a torch is handy for spotting those deposits she makes in the undergrowth.

Heading for bed, we thought Willow had settled for the night on the banquette but, as soon as we headed to bed she had to follow. There followed a game where we'd shoo her off the bed and she'd go, only to return minutes later. Then she resorted to underhand tactics, scratching at the material of the banquette (some sort of faux leather) with her wickedly long claws. I was too tired to argue and had visions of our upholstery shredded beyond repair so I gave in and let her on the bed, much against my better judgement. She did stay quite still all night but I felt I'd been conned so woke up thinking dark thoughts about dogs and walked the hound in silence. She doesn't know it, but Miss Willow missed out on a trip to the beach on Sunday morning due to bad behaviour. Mind you, I did discover that we'd left the roof vent open above Willow's bed so I suppose she might have been a bit cold......

This is what you missed out on, hound!

Sunday mornings in Towed Haul have, traditionally, been about doing not very much and, being traditionalists, we didn't do very much. I did have to twiddle with the water heater to get it to work properly (something to do with a sneaky south westerly wind I think) and I did manage a slow walk over to the shower block (warm if not exactly a power shower). On the way back I dawdled with interest, watching the folks with the new Airstream hitching their silver beauty up to their huge pick up truck. The lady doing the guiding had a walky-talky but was yelling so loudly into it as to render it quite necessary. She was also waving her arms around wildly but, given that she was right behind the truck, I didn't hold out much hope that the driver would be able to see her. They drove out a short time later so they must have "connected" satisfactorily.

Breaking camp was performed at a leisurely pace, especially as the weather was warming up significantly. We both still get confused about the order which we do things, chocks, electricity, sway bars; we get there in the end but still have to think about it. This time I forgot to turn off the propane, which was not a big issue but it did mean that we travelled all the way home with the fridge running, something I've always bleated about being the wrong thing to do. Still that's the first time that we've powered the fridge with propane so at least we know that it works!

If the drive up to Point Farms is nice then the drive home is better, Yes, we had a headwind again (the wind had moved to the South West over night) but being Sunday, the road was quiet so we had a fine run south. It always seems to take longer than I imagine it will but it's still one of the best trips we do with Towed Haul; even the dog sat quiet.

A landmark on the trip home :~)

We're not sure of our next destination, or indeed when we'll go there. Thoughts are already drifting to winter storage, which is a bit sad given that it's still only September, but we will get out for a couple more trips. Well, we are equipped for the cooler weather and anyway, it's hard to leave Towed Haul on the driveway for too long.

The Haul at Point Farms, complete with fairy lights

The Return Of The Toads

A fine summer missed. Ho hum.

We're back now, though, so it's time to hitch up and head off into the sunset, Towed Haul trailing along behind us obediently. I say sunset but I really mean Rondeau Park, just half an hour away, but I'm sure they have sunsets there, too.

I'd spent all week preparing our pride and joy and it was in sultry conditions that we hitched her on the driveway, all the while keeping an eye on those big black clouds lurking above us. It was good to get the trailer level again and even better to see the running lights come on. Best of all was to hear the wheels lock up as I brake tested her coming off the drive. Bliss.

First stop at Rondeau (apart from the gate, obviously) was Poo Corner, also known as the Dump Station. Because I'd re-sanitized (is that a word?) the water system, I had half full sewage tanks which needed purging before seeing some action. We also needed fresh water; no need to drag 50 gallons of water from home, eh?

Our site for the weekend wasn't very deep and we needed to back on to it at an angle. Despite discussing our backing up policy (available on the Internet at http.......) I still managed to get all all the angles wrong - lack of practice, see. As we were just about in the right position and the Toadmobile was blocking the loop road, a big truck towing a small trailer hoved into view; no pressure then! Then it started to rain; big fat rain, and lots of it. Curses! Still, we placed some levelling blocks under the wheels, chocked the beast then unhitched her from the Toadmobile, all briskly and efficiently without letting matey in his truck upset us. Out came the awnings (please note that they were deployed after the rain had started, possibly in an attempt to get it to stop?) and we continued to pitch camp, only releasing the hound and the Tadpoles from the car when we were good and ready. Naturally the rain stopped once we'd completed the out of doors work but hey ho, that's what camping's all about.

Home on the range

In a masterly stroke of planning, we'd decided on pizza from a local take away emporium for our evening meal so once settled, all we had to do was drift on over to Ridgetown to pick the blighters up, or take them away, as it would be more properly described. They were good pizzas from Godfather's but a tad pricey; the consequence, I suppose, of being only one of two pizza places for miles around. Ho hum again.

Friday night is Film Night (it might be Movie Night but I like the alliterative possibilities of  the words 'Film' and 'Friday') and we watched When Harry Met Sally accompanied by some nice cool drinks. The hound joined us on the Banquette and we had a jolly mellow evening. I don't think I'd ever seen that movie before, despite its age and popularity, but I had seen enough clips of it to have caught at least 50% of it before. Still, it was just right for a Friday evening in the camper and the Tadpoles were suitably embarrassed by the "Orgasm" scene, so that was good.

And so to bed, just as the rain started again. Of course being in a nice cosy caravan means that rain is unimportant, apart from the noise it makes, but this evening the stuff came down with a vengeance. I had a flashback to our first ever trip to Rondeau when it rained so much in the night that I had visions of Towed Haul floating away; well, it wasn't dissimilar. Pity the poor devils their tents on the other side of the campground.

Saturday dawned to a damp but bright day and as ever, I was up early. I decided to walk the hound through the camping loops and spy on my neighbours and their camping tackle, if you'll excuse the expression. North Americans do like a bit of fire and flesh and the smell of wood smoke and cooking bacon was all pervasive and making me quite hungry. There were no other Airstreams that I could see but there was a minivan being used to tow a reasonably sized caravan so that pleased me.

Breakfast was taken at midday, quite normal for the Toads, after I'd had a lovely warm shower in the bath house and the Tadpoles had endured a cold shower as the water heating system had gone screwy in between times. Snigger. The day was turning out nice, to paraphrase one Mr George Formby (don't you just love his lean, mean, grilling machines?), so we loaded the hound into the car and drove out to the dog beach. We've noticed before that at times of great excitement the horrible hound pees a lot and today was a three pee event as she went loopy on the sand. You're not supposed to let them off the leash but we were the only ones there and she's so wimpy that's she won't run off, so we let her charge about, untethered. Her tail betrayed her delight. Sadly we had to leave the beach as the sand flies were so much in evidence and the poor dog was covered in them, getting quite distraught as they do tend to nip a bit. 

Back at the mobile ranch (via the convenience store just outside the park's gates to stock up on ice cream and chocolate), we decided to get the fire going for the culinary delight that was to be supper. It's a good job we started early because our firewood was the slowest burning wood in the universe and it took an age to get some heat into it. I've been schooling the large Tadpole on how to make fires, our mantra being "Only One Match Allowed". Well, he did a pretty good job, even if it was all off to one side and he put too much wood on too early. Next trip we'll try without the matches, using a handy-dandy little spark making gadget we were given. No, it's not a lighter!

Supper was diced pork, cooked in a foil tray over the fire, chopped mushrooms also in a tray, and a melange of peppers, mushrooms and onions done in a third tray. Sadly that left no room for my tin of diced tomatoes but, being a resourceful soul I stood the tin in the fire pit and with deft use of toasting fork, kept it stirred. I have to say, although the pork was quite expensive, it made a really nice meal with the addition of some rice; that's one for the camping cook book I think.

Saturday night wasn't movie night so Mrs T and the Tadpoles played cards whilst I read the English newspapers on line, using my phone as a hot spot. Goodness knows how much my friends at Bell will gouge me for that but it was a peaceful hour or two. We went to bed with all the windows open but hadn't realised that the temperature had gone from balmy to not balmy at all in the space of a few hours, so I woke up on Sunday morning a little chilled. The hound and I went for another exploratory walk before anyone else was up and frankly we both regretted not wrapping up a bit because being not balmy, it was flippin' cold!

The weekend's rain had meant that the trailer was a tad muddy inside, what with dogs and errant tadpoles to deal with, so when we started to pack up we didn't really do a lot of tidying other than to put breakable things away. It may be slovenly but it's hard to get excited about a spruce trailer when people keep dragging mud in all over the place - oh the trials and tribulations, eh?

Hitched and ready to roll, I fitted but forgot to tighten one of the sway control bars on the hitch, No harm done but I thought the old girl was twitching about a bit whilst under way. And the trailer was, too. We were out done in the senior moments department, though, by the honking great 5th wheeler that was about to depart Poo Corner with it's door open and steps down. Mrs T saved the day with a warning call and it made my slack sway bars seem a bit tame.

So that was it; only the third trip of the year, but one completed successfully. If truth be told, it might have been a bit more comfortable without the Tadpoles but, and this is a real bummer, they're still a bit too young to leave at home on their own all weekend. Pffft.

So, Toad Fans, next week is a camping weekend as well so you'll not have to wait too long for the next gripping installment of Toad Life. Pleased? I know I am! Gribbit.

We're Back

Family emergency concluded in England, were back in Canada and looking forlornly at Towed Haul, sat on the driveway as she has been for three months, and not a wheel turned in that time.

The weather has been pretty good here and I'm wondering how much of that is down to our inability to deploy the awning, an act far more potent and guaranteed to induce rain than any rain dance or cloud seeding programme known to man. Of course, Mrs Toad spends ten weeks of the wettest summer in England since 1912 (official records, not experience!) with the Tadpoles and I sharing five of those; politely I could say the summer has been a wash out but really I'm thinking, what a bummer summer!

So, we have two months remaining of our northerly camping season and we'll be restricted to short, weekend sojourns, which makes me a bit sad. However, as soon as the bags are unpacked, the Internet will be hot with campground bookings because we're going to try to make up for lost time and camp our little socks off. Hopefully. 

Back in England, we did see two Airstreams on the road, both vintage and therefore imported from North America. Sadly I hadn't the wit to catch either on film but it was still a thrill to see them. The first we saw had been much modified and was acting as a mobile theatre, with its road side windows covered with a sheet of aluminium. It looked a bit odd but at least it was being towed, which is what Airstreams were made for, isn't it?

I never did get to see inside an English caravan, but there were so many on the road; thousands of them in fact. I know they're lightweight but a few North American sensibilities would have been tweaked at the types of tow vehicles used; nearly all small and nearly all four cylinder, gas powered. They don't use weight distribution, either, but there didn't seem to be too much sagging on the back axles. Mind you, get stuck behind one off the highway and you tend to be in for a slow trip. 

Anyway, I'm off out to hook up the 30 amp service, switch on the fridge and re-sanitize the water system - camping in 7 days and counting!

Oft seen!

Toads in England

Here we are in England, not so much Merry Old England as Very Wet England, unfortunately.

The Airstream is back on the driveway in Canada and we're here in the rain, albeit that it's a trip to see family and friends, and we're kind of missing Towed Haul. I had occasion to head up one of the motorways here yesterday and was amazed at the number of Caravans (Travel Trailers to you North American types) on the road. When I lived here I had little or no interest in caravans/trailers except when they blocked my way on one of the many winding lanes that make up the bulk of the road network in Britain. Now I look at them with a practiced eye, checking size and construction, hitches and, of course, tow vehicles. Yes I am a complete NERD!

Anyway, the caravans/trailers here are smaller and lighter, mostly single axle and have (it seems to me) a different proportion. They look quite wide but are probably not, but being shorter tend to look that way. They're quite aerodynamic in design but then they have to be when you see what's towing them; essentially four cylinder cars or small SUVs. I don't think the cars lack power because Europeans get way more oomph from their engines than North Americans do, but the cars are narrow with a short wheelbase and, of course, don't employ the weight distrubtion techniques that are widespead across the water. But they work and, judging by the numbers on the road, are very popular.

One trend here is to have a panel van (known generically as a 'Transit Van', after Ford's groundbreaking utility van) as a tow vehicle. They equate in size to a full size van in North America although the engines are quite a bit smaller, if not the power output. What they do have, of course, is a much better wheelbase and it's those 'Transits' that are towing the bigger two axle caravans/trailers. I had the good fortune to be following one of these 'Transits' towing a double axle caravan/trailer down a very steep and narrow road on the edge of the beautiful city of Bath. Given that trailers here rely on surge brakes, the driver (from the Netherlands if his licence plate was anything to go by) was taking it VERY steadily, but at least I had time to observe his teqnique. He seemed confident but as a visitor to the UK from the flat lands of Holland, I wondered waht he was actually thinking as he headed down the side of the cliff!

I haven't been in one of these British caravans/trailers, not yet anyway, but I'm guessing that their onboard toys are limited. Most don't have air conditioning (not required!), probably don't have things like built-in TVs and their fridges and cookers are going to be small and compact in comparison to the things that we have in our Airstreams. But what they do have, which I envy, is a wheel on the tongue jack and handles fitted to the coach so they can be hauled about by hand for perfect positioning and easy hitching. Wouldn't that be fun on our 7000lb baby?

My task for my remaining time here is to see if I can get inside one of these caravans/trailers to compare and contrast. I could also take a few photographs, something which is sadly lacking from this entry in my blog. To make up fro this deficiency I am posting a picture of the tadpoles enjoying a wet and windy afternoon on the pier at Paignton in Devon. Rain? I guess it's good for Toads.

Standing Still

Sometimes life can be tough. We have a family emergency in England and Toad Travels have been suspended for the time being. To add insult to injury, the weather is fine and dry; in short, perfect camping weather. Still, said emergency is way more important than camping so it'll just have to be a quiet season for us this year.

We have the pool and the weather though, albeit that Mrs T isn't here to enjoy it. I think I might have to write this blog from overseas soon, so I shall have to take a picture of Towed Haul with me so I don't forget what she looks like!

Point Me To Point Farms

Friday


It's Victoria Day long weekend, the sun is shining and it's camping time. There's something intrinsically wrong with that statement. Victoria Day is correct, but sun shining and camping are words that do not go together, at least for us. OMG!


To be fair, Victoria Day, or more correctly in these more enlightened times, May Two-Four, is traditionally a camping weekend. In this part of the world, though, it's more often associated with teenagers descending on a local Provincial Park and getting bladdered for the weekend; it was for this reason that we escaped to the Finger Lakes of Upstate New York last year. This year we took a chance and made our way to Point Farms, on the shore of Lake Huron just north of Goderich, in the hope that it was far enough away from booze crazed teens but close enough for us to get to whilst still light. Having booked the last available camp site, we were hoping our hunch was correct.


So it was that we were hitching Towed Haul up in glorious sunshine and looking forward to a pleasant run up north. Weighed down as we were with tadpoles and hound, it seemed a slow run up to our first (and only) way point, the party town of Grand Bend, even with the fine weather. The Pinery Provincial Park at Grand Bend is a big venue for the teens of London and Sarnia so we rolled past its gates with some relief and took the oldies trail up Highway 21.

We'd been to Point Farms before, one damp weekend last May, but this time the place was somewhat different; it was dry and warm for a start! Our site was on a slight slope and next to the Vault Toilets (more on that later), but comfortable for all that. Executing a masterful backing up manoeuvre in one deft movement, we lined up just about perfectly first time and we were complimented by our neighbours on a fine piece of trailer craft, and that's always a good start to the weekend. The Tadpoles came in handy as we despatched them with the hound "for a walk" whilst we Toads set up, but as ever in these cases, they were all back within three minutes; this is what constitutes a walk, apparently. As we were getting ourselves sorted, things did get a little out of kilter with the young ones not being exactly helpful, but we settled into a reasonable state of camp readiness and had the fire lit as the sun went down. A heap of pre-prepared goulash with macaroni later and we were all in weekend mode. Even the hound calmed down after a while.


Despite it getting a little cool, we sat under the rather daringly deployed awning (see earlier posts regarding awning deployment and weather) and basked in the feeble glow of the Airstream fairy lights and the dying embers of the fire. As a final act of the evening, the hound was propelled around one of the campground loops for mandatory bladder evacuation and we marvelled at the stars, so often not visible in the glowing night time citadel that is Chatham. This was shaping up to be a nice weekend.




Saturday


Having failed to make an advanced order for doughnuts from Goderich's famed bakery, Culbert's, Saturday started early for me and the large tadpole. We were despatched to the town at around 8am to pick up some "cream puffs", as they are known locally. Now I don't usually queue for food but this was the exception that proves the rule; stood in line on the street waiting to get doughnuts isn't my idea of a fun filled Saturday morning but the ends would surely justify the means. I watched in amazement as just about everyone in the line ahead of us bought cream puffs and cleared the shelves at an alarming rate. Folks were not stinting themselves, either, with one order for "three and a half dozen"; that's forty two doughnuts! Who buys that kind of quantity? I wondered if Billy Bunter was in town. We eventually left the shop with our measley twelve doughnuts, and without any fresh bread as it had all been sold some twenty five minutes after the shop opened - this is one popular bakery.

It's at this point that I have to mention last August's devastating tornado that hit the very centre of Goderich and trashed the place, and I mean trashed. Many of the buildings within a small area around the Courthouse Square were smashed to bits, including Culbert's Bakery. Even now, nearly a year later, a few buildings were still being rebuilt and some, sadly, had been demolished. The Courthouse, once surrounded by a circle of trees, now stood bare in the centre of it's traffic circle and the usual Saturday Framers' Market had been displaced to the outer circle. On the one hand it was sad to see the effect of the storm, but on the other it was good to see the place coming back to life.
Anyway, back at camp it was time for brekkie, with the tadpoles set tasks to complete the meal. The girls came up with some lovely pancakes whilst the boys, or more specifically the big tadpole, came up with some spanking bacon. With coffee and doughnuts it doesn't get much better! The weather was still fine, warming up rapidly and making me look nervously at the awning (see earlier posts regarding awning deployment and weather). I had a quick mooch around the campground, admiring the trailers but clucking disapprovingly at the tow vehicles and their hitching arrangements. There was a surprising amount of minivans on site, but sadly not one looking like it was towing anything bigger than a Scamp; my towing sensibilities were once again dampened.


All of us trooped down to the beach before lunch and as the place was almost deserted, we decided to break the law and let Willow off the leash. Well, she went loopy; into the water, out of the water, dig a hole, fill a hole, chase another dog, run away from another dog; typical Willow stuff, really. It all looked good, though, as she was tiring herself out in time for the incarceration in her crate later in the day.....


The hound was being locked up because on Saturday afternoon we had an appointment. Nothing frivolous, mind; football. Mrs Toad had done her scouting and selected the Goderich branch of Boston Pizza as the most likely place to watch Bayern Munich vs Chelsea in the final of the European Champions' League. She wasn't wrong, either, as the big screens in the bar area looked very promising. We arrived a little early but as time ticked by, so Chelsea bedecked supporters began to arrive and, by the time the game kicked off, there were thirty or forty people watching with us, mostly Chelsea but some Bayern, too; this is a very German area so I'd have been surprised if there were no Munich fans in. The game was completed on a penalty shoot out, meaning my nerves were shot and I could barely watch, but we won; cue relief at our table. Goodness knows what the good people of Goderich must have thought as they sat down to their pizza in the dining room as the bar resembled a very raucous Saturday afternoon at Stamford Bridge.
Excitement over, we headed back to camp to let the dog out of her crate, then built the fire and set about making supper. The sun was still shining and the awning was still out (see earlier posts regarding awning deployment and weather), which was spooky. The Ontario side of Lake Huron is famed for its sunsets, so I dragged the tadpoles and the hound out to watch this evening's display, albeit that we were a trifle late. The sun had gone into the mist on the horizon but the sky and the lake were a lovely glowing pink, as witnessed by the photographs which were very good but turned pink into orange; still impressive but not quite the right hue.

It still being a little cool in the evening, we weren't too bugged out, which was good. The campground wasn't too noisy but the smell of woodsmoke was all pervasive so we headed in to the trailer to watch a movie. For me, that didn't last long as I was snoozing in seconds, so I gave up the unequal struggle and went to bed (it's a rock and roll lifestyle, this camping). I think the others weren't too far behind and it was into the land of nod for all of us. And the awning was STILL out!




Sunday


I woke early. Too bloody early. I lay in bed reading the Daily Telegraph on my phone until 6am then decided I should scuttle off for a shower; beating the rush, as it were. The campground was lovely to walk through as the sun was just rising, with no one around and only the birds making any noise. The shower block was standard Ontario Provincial Park but clean, as ever, and new last year. Even when I made my way back through the massed trailers and tents there was no sign of human movement, apart from my own, which was just wonderful. I set up to make coffee under the awning (it was still deployed) and then sorted out the tablet PC so I could do some blogging. It wasn't very warm sat out in front of the trailer at 6.45 am but I had the birds, and the hound of course, for company. Using the connectivity of my phone to connect the PC to the Internet, I was able to write straight into Google's Blogger App, which was a whole lot better than last time when I had to transfer from one app to another. Let's hear it for technology!


Having fed the hound I thought I'd take her on an extended tour of the Park, which by 8am was beginning to show signs of life. We made our way to the other campground, about a mile away, for a nosey around and saw a very big deer out for its morning constitutional. Willow stood and watched, deciding, I think, that the deer was just a little too big to chase after. The second campground was quite nice and we saw another Airstream there, parked in a very nice site, the number of which I have logged for later use. We used the woodland trails to head back and by the time we arrived at Towed Haul, the campground was fully alive with kids abroad and breakfast campfires on the go, but strangely our site was very quiet! I had promised to take our two sluggedybed tadpoles out for a walk along some of trails and had to bodily drag them out of bed at 9am. Still, once up and out I think they enjoyed the mini-hike I took them on. We saw a big mangy looking raccoon out on its travels, which is unusual in the day time, and plenty of noisy Blue Jays. The lake was flat calm, as it had been all weekend, and looked very inviting as we clambered down some rough hewn steps in the cliff and emerged on a rocky beach; all most pleasant I have to say.

Later in the day, Mrs T and I took the opportunity to escape from the small ones and headed out to the local grocery store to get some more bottled water. Even an hour's peace was most welcome and we dragged out the trip just a shade longer than we needed to, giving our eardrums some much needed rest and recuperation. The tadpoles love camping but they do add an extra dimension of chaos to the proceedings.


Sunday afternoon was beach time. The sun was high, the lake was flat and there was the merest hint of a cooling zephyr as we sat and watched the hound try running in two feet of cold lake water then digging holes in the sand to lay in. I have no idea what goes on in that animal's brain but it tends to get quite jumbled when there's lots of new and exciting things about; we're very similar...

We returned to the campsite with two sunburned tadpoles and set us up for supper, building a monster fire into which three very large foil-wrapped potatoes were to be placed. It's at these times that I wish I has some asbestos gloves because manoeuvering heavy potatoes in what turned out to be a fair imitation of the surface of the sun was not an experience that my hands enjoyed. OK, I was using a pair of tongs, not just my bare hands, but the tongs could have done with being three feet longer. Mind you, the pain was worth it because those spuds were cooked to perfection; the big tadpole's attempt at  flame-broiled burgers wasn't bad either. It is fun to cook on an open fire but I have the feeling that the smell of wood smoke is going to linger about my person for the best part of next week!


Mrs T and I made no pretense of watching DVDs on this warm evening; we sat out for a bit then went to bed, at 10pm, which is some kind of record for us. The tadpoles may or may not have stayed up; I have no no idea, which demonstrates amply my parenting skills.




Monday


Another involuntary early start, met with the 6 am shower again and a period of quiet reflection (and blogging) under the (still deployed) awning, over a cup of hot coffee. This was move out day for most and a lot of trailers were on the move at 8am, which always seems to be a bit odd to me when you've paid for your site until 2pm. Still, I was able mentally criticise their hitch setups and, in one case, praise it. Yes, I know, I'm going soft in the head.


The Toads of Towed Haul are not known for their early morning activity so it was almost lunchtime when we sat down to croissants, toast, pancakes and bacon. It matters not, of course, when you eat in such relaxed circumstances so it really was a slow and gentle lead up to packing everything away and hitching up the Airstream, ready for the off. It's an absolute delight to be able to pack up in the warm sunshine and, of course, to put the awning away - for the first time over the entire weekend! Did I mention that deploying the awning usually results in monsoon weather? Well not this weekend, it didn't. Oh Bliss.

Talking of bliss, I did say that I'd tell you about vault toilets earlier and, as using one was one of the final things I did before leaving the site, I'll keep my promise. The vault in question is a large underground chamber atop which sits at least two toilets, contained within a wooden hut structure. The toilets are not like the "Thunderboxes" of old but resemble real loos. It just when you open up the lid you look down not into water, but straight into the vault and the surface of its contents some seven or eight feet below. It does smell a bit, but not as bad as you might think; I'm sure some agent or enzyme is added to the vault to help keep the contents from getting too high. These are not the only loos available on site, water flush models are available in the bath house, but these vault toilets were surprisingly well used over the weekend, even at night with no lighting other than that you bring yourself. Being in a fairly swanky trailer, we have a water flush toilet, but in order to keep our trailer 'vault' from filling, I use the outside vaults and encourage the others to as well, particularly as there's proper hand washing facilities there, including soap and towels that are kept well stocked. My only word of caution would be to ensure that you keep a tight hold of your mobile phone when you use the vaults;if it goes in there it's never coming out again!


So there it was, a warm and dry weekend in a nice campground with a lovely beach nearby; well worth the effort of dragging Towed Haul nearly 200 Kms north. We ambled back at 50 mph and benefited with a healthy gas mileage figure. Poor Mrs Toad was struck with the lurgy on the way back and spent the time trying to breath and to stay awake. The weather broke in the evening but, and I know that you'll all appreciate this, the awning had long been stowed!


Until the next time Toad fans.


PS - Chelsea FC, Champions of Europe.