A New Year, Some New Travel

 I was just prepping the blog for an upcoming trip, without the Airstream of course, and read back the last post I did about our fifteen years of towing with a minivan. One particular photo jumped out at me, so I thought I'd expand on it a little.

It was after a few days at Rondeau Provincial Park, Ontario, back in October 2021. We were on the South Campground, site 17, and while the trip had started out fine and dry, the weather had closed in and left everywhere very wet. Nearly all of the sites at Rondeau are on grass, and there develops after a few seasons a dip on the site just along the edge of the loop road. The reason is quite simple; rear-wheel drive tow vehicles hitch up in the wet, go to haul their trailer off the site, and spin their rear wheels. Nearly all the sites have this dip, and of course water collects in them, making the next wheel spin easier, and the dip to get just a bit deeper. The park people do periodically go around and fill the dips with crushed stone, but after a few more years, the dip is back.

The photograph shows us hitched up, ready to leave. The rear wheels of the van are in the water but, and it's a big but, the van is front-wheel drive and those wheels are just on the loop road. Despite our ordinary all-season tires, and an apparently lack of muscle, the van's front wheels gripped the gravel on the loop road and hauled the trailer out without even a glimmer of wheel-slip. 

The thing is, I've been told constantly that front-wheel drive tow vehicles don't work. Yet this was the third time I'd hauled the Airstream out of a partially flooded camp site, on grass, and the third I'd experienced no trouble and no wheel-slip. Odd, that.

Yet another reason to say that I could tow that with that.

You Can't Tow That With That

The thing I heard most, at least in the early years, was "You can't tow that with that!". They were referring of course to my choice of tow vehicle, the redoubtable Toyota Sienna Minivan.

Clearly I was going against the grain, but in my quest to avoid buying a pickup truck, I'd accidentally crossed paths with Andy Thomson, owner of CanAm RV, consultant to Airstream, and all-round egg-head when it comes to towing travel trailers. Andy has forgotten far more than most of us will ever know about the subject, and when he offered a good working tow setup for the Minivan, I knew it would work. Not too many others did, though, and I soon found out that I wasn't arguing the physics of towing with people, but their received wisdom on the matter. Received wisdom, let me tell you, is a difficult thing to influence.

It's actually quite alarming when complete strangers will tell you, without any encouragement, that you're doing everything wrong and would likely end up in a fiery wreck as soon setting out on the highway. At best, apparently, the Sienna would drop it's transmission onto the road in an oily puddle before I'd even got to the first campground. At worst, I was going to kill myself and everyone around me, and most likely my grieving widow wouldn't get a cent from the insurance. I actually stood in a campground in Georgia and listened to a man (who drove a VW Beetle with coloured spots all over it) tell me that there was no way on God's green earth that a Minivan could tow the Airstream. I looked at him, then at the Sienna, and said, "How did we get here from Ontario, then?". It was then that the Tumbleweed rolled by.

Face-to-face challenges were not too common, thankfully, and when they did occur it was normally when we were in the USA. A notable exception was a man in the Thousand Islands area of Ontario who told me it was fine to tow as I did in Ontario but that it was entirely illegal in the US and I'd be turned back at the border. "That's strange," I said, "We've just been in the States for two weeks and no one said anything". Then another Tumbleweed rolled by.

I get it, people love their trucks. They like the size and weight of the things, they sit up high and feel they can tow anything. Trucks are, actually, pretty poor tow vehicles, and getting worse as they get ever taller. But most know very little about the dynamics of towing, they only consider that the bigger the truck they have the more they can tow, which really isn't the case at all. But I'm not here to argue the merits or otherwise of pickup trucks, just that regardless of what YOU tow with, I can tow my Airstream with my Sienna. How do I know, beyond having a professional set me up? Fifteen years of trouble-free towing is how I know.

For all those that told me my setup was illegal, wouldn't last, would kill me, and all the rest, here's letting you know that I towed for nearly 30,000km and never once had an issue. No tail wagging the dog, no sway, no panic stops, nothing. The Sienna never broke down, either, and averaged around 15 miles to the US gallon when under load, which is markedly better than most gas-powered trucks. We never got stuck in a campground, never failed to make it up or down a hill, and always stopped to order.

We towed from Ontario to Orlando, and home via New Orleans. We went east to Boston, via Cooperstown, then north through the White Mountains of New Hampshire to Quebec City before heading home again. We've been up hill and down dale, and never struggled.

I learned early on how to go downhill safely, after a late night foray in the hills around the Finger Lakes of Upstate New York, when the fairly new drum brakes on the Airstream were smoking up a storm. Indeed, coming down hill was probably the trickiest part of towing a travel trailer, that is if you don't want to set your brakes on fire, or have the trailer push you into places you don't want to go. Drive like the semi-truck drivers do, knock your speed off before your descent, not halfway through it. We'd been through Franconia Notch in New Hampshire and there's a long and steep run into Vermont from there, so we just took it slowly and avoided any trouble. In fact we kept pace with the semi-trucks, which is how you know you're doing things the right way.

We never went west of the Mississippi or into the Continental Divide, where altitude can have a deleterious effect on a normally aspirated engine. Nor did we spend days slogging across the Prairies into a strong headwind, which is actually far harder on the tow vehicle than any amount of mountain climbs or their corresponding descents. But we did cross and drive through the eastern mountains, more than once, and we didn't miss a beat.

The Sienna hadn't been modified beyond the addition of that second transmission oil coiler, and the installation of a brake controller and the seven-pin umbilical cord. I replaced the shock absorbers after about four years of towing, although not because I had to, and I went for the standard Toyota fit. The Minivan was serviced in accordance with the Toyota schedule, and only had the synthetic transmission oil changed once in fifteen years. She never broke down, either, not once. The hitch receiver was showing signs of wear, though, and I had resorted to using a hitch clamp this past couple of years to stop the movement in the slightly stretched receiver box, and to maintain the best weight distribution. Similarly, the hitch head was getting a bit deformed at the point the weight distribution bars entered, the

round holes were getting quite oval-shaped, but everything was hanging together. All that of course was nothing to do with the Sienna itself, which handled all we threw at her with ease. 

The point of all this is to say that, despite the naysayers at the outset, We definitely could "tow that with that", although that professional set up at the start was essential. I know there was nothing to prove, at least not to myself, but for the doubters, well, you were wrong.

The Sienna isn't being retired yet, either. Despite having no trailer to haul, I'm going to keep her as my daily driver. Let's see how long it takes to get to 300,000 kilometres.

The End Of The Road

Sold.

I am a wee bit surprised to be writing a final Towed Haul Airstream blog, not least because things moved a little quicker than we'd anticipated. It was always going to happen one day, but it's still a bit of a shock when you actually part company with something as personal as a travel trailer/caravan. 

Towards the start of the 2025 camping season, I realised that Towed Haul was in need of some maintenance, and I wasn't sure that we had the money, or the will, to commit to that. The Toadmobile, our Toyota Sienna Minivan that everyone said wasn't going to work, was also getting very long in the tooth and would have to be replaced at some point, which was something else we were not sure about committing to, especially given that we are now on fixed incomes. Add to all that our dwindling use of the trailer, and as a wise American woman recently said, "...the math ain't mathing".

So, we decided to sell.

Although I'd prompted the debate, I was sub-consciously very reluctant to actually put the old girl up for sale. We spent June in the UK, then did a hotel trip to Niagara, and I used those things as excuses to put off doing anything about the sale, but in  August I was seized with the need and bought a couple of "For Sale" signs to display when we were camping at Rondeau.

To our eternal surprise, the signs did spark some interest, and we ended up showing some other campers around. While the man seemed quite keen, his wife wasn't as struck on the idea. But, we'd had a nibble.

When we arrived home from that trip, I put an advertisement up in the Airstream Adventures Canada Facebook group, which cross-posted the Facebook Marketplace. We braced ourselves for a lack of interest, even though we'd priced the old girl competitively, and confidently expected not to get a sale until the new 2026 season. Goodness, how wrong we were!

There was immediate interest from private buyers. However, just before we were about to pack up and travel for a week's camping at Selkirk Provincial Park the dealer that sold us Towed Haul came in and said he'd buy it, and for the asking price. He was also going away for a week, well it was Labour Day, so we put things on hold until our return.

I confirmed that the dealer did indeed want to buy and arranged a time to drop the trailer at his lot, and then had the tricky task of letting a couple of private buyers know that we'd already sold. One guy was piqued to the point of writing me a snippy e-mail, but given that I'd made no commitment to him, I didn't feel too bad about how things had worked out.

We spent a couple of days removing fifteen years worth of stuff we'd collected inside the trailer as well as giving her a good clean inside and out, before setting off on our final tow. Almost as if the camping gods knew, we had a stiff wind behind us for the ninety-minute run, and achieved an amazing 14.6 litres/100km gas mileage, probably the best since we'd had the LT tires installed.

Handing our pride and joy over wasn't quite as hard as I'd imagined, largely because of the work we'd done up to that point meant that this was really the logical conclusion. That said, neither of us dared look back as we drove away, trailer-less.

Curiously I feel a little lighter now. Owning such a big and fancy bit of kit is actually quite a responsibility, and now that's gone. We perhaps could have worked to get a better price on the sale, but at this point, to get a clean break was worth undervaluing the Airstream a little, and having the money sitting in our savings does go a long way towards easing the pain.

As for the Toadmobile, well she's in a kind of semi-retirement. No more hauling a couple of tons of metal around behind her, but we'll keep her going as long as we can.

As for next year? I'm sure we'll find other things to do.

I will keep this blog going because I can carry on using it for our other travel adventures, if not for the benefit of the world at large, then purely for me.

So long, Towed Haul...

Airstream Road Trip to Selkirk 2025 - Homeward Bound

 After the rain of the previous day, it was a cold night, and an even colder morning inside the Airstream. It was hard to remember that it was still August with the thermometer bobbling around 8C. I made my way over to the comfort station for my shower and noted that there were fewer trailers in the campground, but there were a couple of new ones, so Thursday had clearly been changeover day.

We had been in the Campground for a day longer than we'd normally camp in any one place, because the sites at Selkirk not only have 30amp power, but they also have water. Sadly there's no sewer connection, but if you're careful about what you put in the onboard waste tanks then the water on tap, as it were, does allow you to stay a little longer before emptying out the waste tanks. It would of course be possible to hitch up and drag the trailer to the dump station, empty, then go back and park on the site for a few more days. Similarly you could use a "Blue Boy", a plastic tank on wheels that you can dump your waste water into, then dump that in a vault toilet or at the dump station. The idea of a Blue Boy is sound, but when they've been used then you need to store them outside your trailer or tow vehicle, and that's not practical for us. I know there are plenty of people that will dump their gray water right where the trailer stands on the site, which you're not supposed to do. Most grey water will have a lot of soap in it, and very often food scraps, so that's the last thing you want, fouling your site. That we do not do.

Back in the camper, I put the furnace on for the first time this year. It was to warm things up a little, but it was also to try to disperse the condensation that had built up inside overnight. We've never had an issue with condensation because we always clear it, and that was the situation this damp morning when I fired up the Fantastic Fan in the roof hatch and opened a window, just to get the moisture moving.

There were a couple of women with very small babies, sitting under an awning on an adjacent site; they'd arrived the previous night. Both were in long pants and sweatshirts, and both swaddled in blankets. As I said, not much like August.

As we'd done much of the preparation the previous day, our camp breakdown was swift. All that was different from the usual was to drive off the Lego blocks and put them away before leaving the site. We'd been close enough to the power and to the water to not need extensions to the power cord or the water hose, so even they were stowed in quick time. We rolled off the site at about eleven-thirty, and made our way over to the dump station.

It's not the greatest dump station in the world at Selkirk, it's on a tight loop of a dirt track, and on a hill. Once in the line up, you just have to wait your turn, and this cold morning were were number four, right behind an older Airstream. The folks ahead of us seemed to move quickly and we were emptying our tanks after waiting for only about ten minutes. The tanks were full, and I'd used the short, clear plastic extender on the dump valve so I could see when the tanks had emptied, and I was able to watch the brown soup infused with toilet paper croutons rush into the underground septic tank. That tank, I fear, was getting quite full because it backed up a wee bit as our tank drained, and the smell was awful. But these are camping necessities, and can't be avoided, so I just did what I had to do, packed up and left. Thank goodness for Nitrile gloves.

I set the Google Map Directions app going and we had an ETA at home of two-forty-four, with a journey time just short of three hours. I knew we'd not match that as there are parts of the route that are slow, but it's always good to have something to aim at. 

Once our on Haldimand Country Road Three and pointed westward, I felt the strong headwind tugging at us and though that today I wasn't going to break any gas mileage records. Given that it was the Friday before a long weekend, there was more traffic on the roads than there had been on Monday, but that's relative. Compared to an English A or B road, it was deserted.

We made good time, had no traumas, and the Toadmobile dealt comfortably with the headwind. There are a couple of steep downhill sections, with the corresponding uphill sections, on this route. As I've said many times before, it's the down hill bits that are the issue, and I made sure to knock off my speed before I started the descent. I think the people following were a wee bit disconcerted as I slowed before the downhill sections, but that's what we have to do. 

We arrived home, unscathed, having dropped about fifteen minutes on the original ETA. Traffic lights, Stop signs and slow sections all contributed, but over a 226km drive and towing a big trailer, that's not too bad. The gas mileage was 17.6 litres to 100Kms (13.4 miles/US Gallon, or 16.1 miles/Imperial Gallon), compared with 16.4 (14.3 and 17.2) on Monday, so not a drastic difference. 

It was a good run, and good camping despite the one rainy day. Selkirk is great, and its a park that you can normally get a site at without the usual competition for sites that Rondeau has. We like the water to the sites, and I liked that it was a pull-through, so no horrible backing in to do. Certainly there's not a lot going on at Selkirk, but a relaxing couple of days, you can't beat it.

Our next trip is a short run to Rondeau in September, so we'll be back in the groove then, but first I'm on cleaning duties. Again.

Airstream Road Trip to Selkirk 2025 - Full Day the Third

 

With the prospect of storms later in the day, we opted for a do nothing, stay inside day. When I went for my shower at seven, the sun was just peeping up over the trees and the skies were deep blue, but there were some big fluffy clouds forming out to the south west so I guessed that today the forecasters may just be right.

The first task of the day, though, was to dismantle and stow the bug tent, the Pleasure Dome. It's waterproof, but I really didn't want to be packing it up wet, so down that came. The pegs I'd used to secure it in Monday's wind were a right bugger to extract from the rock-hard ground, but my camping skills and experience came to fore and I utilised another peg to add some leverage to the extraction process. The bug tent was an expensive piece of kit, and in most respects is excellent. The manufacturer, though, has skimped something rotten on the securing pegs, supplying only twelve, the minimum number required, and they are the cheapest mild-steel items on the market, which means they will bend and they'll get rusty. Given how much the tent cost, you'd have thought some pressed alloy pegs with a point on the end could have been supplied. Ah well, I shall have to raid Amazon and get some proper pegs, I think. 

The rain didn't show until well into the afternoon. We watched other people breaking camp before the rain started, and as the skies darkened we stayed huddled inside, tending to books, or blogs, of family trees, just stuff to allow us to decompress. We did at least get to test the automatic closing function of Towed Haul's roof vents for the first time this year, and as the rain hit the sensors, down came the hatches, which was comforting.

It was quite the deluge during the afternoon and early evening, and there was a little thunder to liven things up. I'd expected to see lots of people arriving for the upcoming long weekend, but I think the rain kept quite a few away. As the rain petered out, trailers did start arriving, but it was getting quite dark by then, and setting up in the dark is never fun.

We revelled in the peace and quiet of the trailer. When you live at home with a five-year-old, the opportunity to get away and decompress should always be taken and enjoyed, We love the little shaver, of course we do, but as you get older your tolerance wanes, and after he's been at home for two months, this break has been seriously welcome.

We're heading home tomorrow, and if we get away before noon then we should avoid the rain. Everything outside bar the patio mat and the water hose is packed, so it should be a swift camp break down. We'll have to dump the four days accumulation in the waste water tanks of course, but that necessary evil has to be performed and I'll factor it in to our leaving time. Let's hope the run home is uneventful.

Airstream Road Trip to Selkirk 2025 - Full Day the Second

 

Goodness, what a chilly night. I roused myself at around seven, stepped outside to go to the shower block and thought I'd been transported to the far north in the night. The official temperature was 8C, not desperate, but it had been 22C the day before, so quite the difference. It was the north-west wind that was the culprit.

Shower done, and vents open in the trailer to disperse some of the condensation on the cold windows, I sat down at the Chromebook to jot down the previous day's doings. I didn't feel much like sitting outside, so I huddled indoors and pondered why I was being such a wimp. I could blame the previously sweltering heat and the sudden change, but really it was just me.

When we're camping, we're quite lucky to generally have good Internet access. We don't have twenty-foot poles with antennae atop, nor even a high gain aerial on the roof of the Airstream, we just use our cell phones and the WiFi Hotspot function, or in my case the USB tethering, to get access through our laptops. Our family cell phone plan is very generous with its data allowance, too, which helps. Airstreams are not great places for radio reception, given that they're made of two layers of reflective metal and have fine mesh metal fly screens over all the windows. FM radio, and even WiFi from your home network, simply won't penetrate it, but cell phone signals will. We can sit inside and get good cell phone reception, and therefore good Internet access, always assuming that we're in an area that has a good cell service in the first place. Rondeau Park, the campground end at least, has good reception, as does Selkirk Park, so we're quite happy. Yes, I could get one of those poles to make sure the cell signal was perfect, but you still have to get the signal inside the trailer and into a router, and that's way too much effort when you can rely on your handset to do the donkey work. I know, there are people that say you should go off-grid when you camp and keep off the Internet, but it's those same people that watch TV and have their air-conditioner going the whole time when they're camping. I'd rather be able to read the news and blog up a storm than watch TV. Talking of TVs, there is a fifth-wheel trailer here that has a TV fixed to its outside wall so it can be watched outside. I hadn't seen one in Canada before, although I had seen plenty in the US. Bad habits, folks, bad habits.

This was the day we needed to go off site to get some petrol for the Toadmobile. We opted to go to the little town of Cayuga, about fifteen kilometres away, where there was a Pioneer gas station, my preferred brand because I can collect all manner of points and prizes with that brand, and they're generally the cheapest. The nearest other brand, Esso, was about the same distance but in another town. Gas stations are few and far between outside of towns in south west Ontario, and I don't recall seeing a single gas station along the route we took to drive here. Obviously had we needed petrol we could have diverted to a town, but on these lesser roads, gas stations are a thing of the past, which given the prevalence of the automobile seems a wee bit ironic.

Anyway, we stopped in Cayuga for a quick walk along the bank of the Grand River. There was a little paved walkway with some adjacent parking, but it only extended about four hundred metres. We gamely carried on along the road when the path ended, just to get some steps in, and admired the extended trailer park along the river bank, home to what looked like the entire hoarding population of Ontario. I don't mean to be nasty about trailer folk or hoarders, but the two things seem to go together. Gas was bought, I clunked the hitch receiver on the steep ramp getting out of the gas station and bent one of the sticky-out bits on the hitch-slop stopper (hitch clamp would be a better term), so it'll be interesting to see how easy it'll come off when that time arrives. The Toadmobile is low and will clunk the receiver on steep ramps even when the hitch head isn't installed, but this day it was installed, as was the clamp and yes, I clunked it.

Rather than head back to the Park, DW suggested that we motor over to Port Dover which, as the name suggests, is a little port on the lake, just where the Lynn River meets it. We were after a lighthouse-shaped souvenir for the grand-baby, knowing his love of lighthouses, and a port seemed a good place to find one. 

Port Dover is a fine little place, has a small harbour filled with commercial fishing vessels, and a nice sandy beach. It also has a dying Main Street, so like everywhere else in Ontario, and the usual array of fried-food emporia and gift shops that any little lakeside town would have. I say lakeside because it's right on Lake Erie, but it looked so like a little English seaside town that I was getting confused with all the "Lake Life" tat on sale in the shops, wondering why lake life when we were beside the sea. Of course Lake Erie is not the sea, but for an Englishman who grew up with the sea, it's hard to shake the idea that a massive body of water isn't the sea. It still gets me.

Anyway, we strolled by the river, walked by the beach (which was busy but emptying because a fresh south-westerly wind had sprung up and brought dark clouds), went into the tat shops, had an ice cream and also some fries, all those things you have to have when at the seaside, sorry, lakeside. We visited a bakery that had lots of vegan goodies for DW, and spoke to a man who worked there, or maybe owned it, who was from Mossley, near Manchester. We had a fine old chat about Saddleworth Moor, Myra Hindley and Ian Brady, and left the shop feeling quite depressed.

Port Dover is also the spiritual home of Ontario's motorcyclists. They have a gathering there every Friday 13th (I assume only when it falls outside the winter), and many of the shops there cater specifically for that event. These are not generally your Hell's Angel types, because the vast majority of bikers in these parts are oldiewonks like me. Bikes, Harleys being the favoured brand, are expensive, as is the insurance, and only old folks can afford them. However, there is a big bike community, and Port Dover is where they gather. Even though it wasn't Friday 13th, there were a few bikes about, and two caught my eye, ridden by a couple as far as I could tell. One was an original 1960s Triumph Bonneville, a noisy and oil-spewing 650 twin cylinder British bike, the other was a Yamaha 200cc, two-stroke twin cylinder, old enough to have drum brakes front and rear. It looked to be in good nick, too, so I guess the owners were real enthusiasts, although quite what the Hog owners would make of the Yammie oil-burner I don't know.

It was a lovely afternoon, despite the keen wind, and made all the better for being a spur of the moment thing. Port Dover might be a wee bit too far for a day trip for Charlie, but if we're in the area and staying, it'd be a great place for him.

When we returned to the Park, we sat out in the Pleasure Dome and had a wee drinkie-poo. It was warm and not windy where we were sitting. We spoke to a pair of fellow campers about the Pleasure Dome, about the trailer and of course, about the van that tows it. It's interesting to note that people in Canada raise their eyebrows and ask questions about how the van tows, but when we have been in the US, they just tell you outright that the van can't tow the Airstream, despite the fact that it's right there in front of them. Different cultures, and never the fifty-first State.

The weather forecast for our final full day isn't great, but the forecasts are not always accurate. We shall see what transpires. With a bit of luck, it'll be a wonderful day of doing not very much again.

Airstream Road Trip to Selkirk 2025 - The First Full Day

 

As I'd said in the previous post, it was an early night for me. Snuggled down under the duvet I went out like a light, although two beers had me up again in the wee small hours, but then I slept until six. Normally I would start moving at that point, but I just went deeper under the duvet and slept through until a quarter to nine, which is something I haven't done in a long while. Clearly the cool air of Selkirk Provincial Park is good for aiding restful sleep.

The first order of the day was to shower, which meant a walk through the campground to the Comfort Station. There's only one Comfort Station in this park, and you'd expect to have to wait for a stall but no, all but one was unoccupied and the cleaning team had been in and the whole place, changing area and all, was wet. While that meant drying off the clothes' pegs before hanging my clean stuff up, it also meant it was clean, which was nice.

The shower system itself was old fashioned but it worked. Lots of hot water, albeit discharging from the shower head at quite a leisurely pace. A hot shower is what sets me up for a hard day's camping.

It had been a cool night and the air was still warming as I sat outside with my coffee. The kids in the neighbouring sites were up and about of course, but that's what excitable kids do, and they seemed to be having a great time; I'm not sure the adults were enjoying it as much, though. 

I spent the morning working on the Chromebook and enjoying the warming sun. I did deploy the Airstream's awning because looking at the Chromebook's screen was getting a bit difficult in the bright sunshine. That was about the extent of the morning's activities. Breakfast didn't happen, so I went straight to lunch, prepared entirely by Dear Wife, which was lovely.

In the afternoon we ambled down to the lake, noting that the campground was fairly full and people looked quite happy to be sat outside their trailers or their tents just enjoying the fine weather. The day use area of the park is a large grassy field with barbecues and benches, kids' play equipment and even a volleyball net, which looked quite serviceable to me, someone who hasn't played volleyball in many a year.

Lake Erie, the yellow blob is Selkirk Provincial Park

The lake was flat calm, albeit that there were heavy clouds, including a funnel cloud, and rain far out across the water. While only the fourth biggest of the five Great Lakes, Erie is still 241 miles (388 Kilometres) long, and 57 miles (92 kilometres) wide. It has a surface area of 9,990 square miles (25,874 square kilometres). When you're stood on the north shore, you can't see the south shore, although sometimes you can see the steam from the power stations in Cleveland, Ohio, rising up over the horizon. It's an inland sea, and the weather can be quite different out on the lake to that on the shore, as was the case this afternoon. Funnel clouds out on the lake don't have quite the impact that they do on land, unless you're in a small boat of course, but we snapped some photos anyway, just to show how brave we were.

The lake looked a little low, with a flat limestone shelf exposed which allowed us to walk out to the water's edge and take a look. The water wasn't deep and, given that it's late August, was quite likely fairly warm. There was no one out swimming, though, and I wasn't going to start a trend, even though out there away from the beach the water was crystal clear.

The area that Selkirk Park now occupies was once the domain of the Anishinaabe and Salteaux people, before European contact. I don't do it enough, but we should always make land acknowledgements when we visit and enjoy places in modern Canada. We're not far from the Grand River, and the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy First Nations Reserve, the biggest reserve of its type in Ontario. The six nations comprise the Mohawk, Cayuga, Onondaga, Oneida, Seneca and Tuscarora people, and the reserve is home to some Lenape as well. A few years ago, we went to a Pow Wow on the Six Nations, and jolly nice it was, too.

I did check on the history of the park itself but couldn't find much of any value, other than the area the park occupies wouldn't make great farmland. Then I found the following paragraph in an Ontario Government paper about the Park's management plan:

"Selkirk Provincial Park commenced operation as a Provincial Park in 1969, primarily to provide recreational opportunities for the anticipated influx of people into the Haldimand-Norfolk Region. However, the increase in local population has not materialized as employment opportunities at the Nanticoke Industrial Complex failed to reach forecasted levels."

That would go some way to explaining why the park doesn't get as busy as some of the other parks in Ontario. Gubmint, eh?

Our evening was spent lounging around, inside the trailer mostly, and just chilling out. I started to watch a film on the Chromebook but couldn't maintain interest in it so I went to bed. That all sounds dull and boring but, when you consider that we've had Charlie on the go this past three months at home, the peace and quiet is something we both appreciate. Being a grandparent is fun, but us oldies really need the break sometimes. 

We're going to have to go off site tomorrow to get some petrol; it's much easier to fill the car up when you don't have a thirty-feet long trailer attached. Maybe we'll explore a little, maybe not. 

Watch this space for more battery-charging adventures.

Airstream Road Trip to Selkirk 2025 - On the Way

 

We don't usually camp in the school holidays. Camp sites can be hard to come by, and for many families it's the only chance they get to take the kids away, so we don't take places that would be better used. But when we were planning earlier in the year, I thought about Selkirk Provincial Park, a small and surprisingly unpopular camping park on the northern shore of Lake Erie. Ten minutes on the Ontario Parks website and I had divined that I could get a site, the same site we'd been to twice before, for four nights before the Labour Day weekend. There were plenty of other spaces available, too, which meant we weren't doing some family out of a trip, so I pressed the go button.

Quite why Selkirk is not much favoured is a bit of a mystery because it's really nice. There's a little beach, picnic areas, and an inlet off the lake that's good for kids to learn to enjoy the water. Certainly there are no long trails, or even too many diversions in the area, but it's pretty and quiet, and just the place for a peaceful break.

Our travel preparations were knocked a little off kilter with some last minute running around for the grand-baby. But Towed Haul was clean and ready to be filled with supplies on the Monday of our departure, so we spent the morning loading up. The summer's been very warm, but our travelling day was set to be around 20C, part cloud, part sun, and no threat of rain, so looking quite good. Selkirk is about a three hour drive from home, longer than we've done in a while, so I made sure there was some fresh water in the tank in order that we could use the onboard facilities if we had to.

Selkirk is also on the old Highway Three, a route that follows the shore of the lake all the way from the St, Claire River in the west, to the Niagara River in the east. We joined it at Blenheim, just about twenty minutes from home, and apart from dipping south of St Thomas, we stayed on "Number Three" for most of the run. It's not one continuous straight road, though, as there are the habitual right-angle turns every know and again as the road skirts the original land grants, and crosses north-south roads that have become more important over the years. There are arrow-straight sections of course, but there are also some nice "dips and swoops", and some challenging bends for us trailer towing people. There are also quite a few little settlements to pass through, which brings the speed down, and breaks up the field after field vista of soya beans and corn. It's actually a really pleasant drive, with or without the two and a half tons of metal behind us, and makes a change from the flat, straight roads of Chatham-Kent.

As we progressed and made our way into Norfolk County, the crops in the field changed markedly, apparently because the well-drained sandy loam of that county supports other things. Tobacco is one of the major cash crops, a paler variety than in Kent County, and dried in small sheds rather than the smoke barns that cure the darker tobacco grown in our part of the Province. There's a lot of asparagus (sandy loam again), and ginseng, a more recent introduction the area. Ginseng is grown in the shade, so there are fields filled with dark netting on metal frames with the rows of plants laid out below. I'm not sure what the market is for ginseng, but the farmers of Norfolk County seem to be able to make a profit on it.

As we approached the park, we skirted north of Nanticoke, a curious hive of industrial activity in the agricultural landscape. Nanticoke fronts Lake Erie and is home to a huge Stelco steel mill and an Ontario Power electricity generation station. I guess that steel milling supplies are brought in and out of the plant using the lake and the mass of freighters that ply the Great Lakes Waterway, which makes sense. The power station is powered by natural gas these days, but I'd bet that it was once coal, which would also have been transported on the water. Selkirk Park is just ten kilometres east of Nanticoke, but once in the park you'd never know it existed.

We arrived after about three hours and ten minutes driving, and I went into the little park office and shop to register. I'd already checked in online so it was just a case of confirmation. I was expecting some paper park's permits but no, apparently it's all paper-free at Selkirk these days. I haven't seen any Park's staff wandering around, but I'd imagine that they do a random check on camp site occupation. I'm all for it, but I hope people don't abuse the system.

Having dumped the holding tanks of the water I'd used in cleaning the camper, we found our site, a pull-through, and spent an age deciding where to park the Airstream. It made sense to put the "street side" of the camper to the power and water outlets, and that left a big usable space in front. Then we had a debate about whether the trailer was level, from side to side, and decided it wasn't. We deployed our "Lego Blocks", little plastic blocks that you can put under the wheels, and backed onto them. Still more debate ensued and we decided all was well, but only when we had unhitched from the Toadmobile did we decide that we'd over-done the levelling and Towed Haul was still on a slant. Too late, though, I wasn't going to hitch up again. I was going to be the first to fall out of bed as a result of any level issues.

We did notice, in among the Hop trees, a super-sized wasp's nest that was still clearly in use. With our newfound understanding of the insects that live around Ontario's native trees and plants, we didn't exclaim even the tiniest of shrieks of alarm. It was good to know that the nest was there, but if we don't bother the wasps, I doubt that they'll bother us.

The campground was fairly busy, a few empty sites but not many. There were lots of families, too, which is always good to see. The kids all seemed to be enjoying their camping, judging by the noise, but there's something quite comfortable about the sound of children enjoying themselves, or at least there is when there's a bit of distance between us and them!

We pitched our bug tent, the Pleasure Dome, and after dinner sat out in it until we both felt the cool air was too much. All our recent camping trips have been in the blazing heat of the early summer, so it was quite a turn up for us to start feeling cold. As the night time temperatures were set to dip to 12C, we broke out the duvet as well. 

It was only about 10pm when I gave up the unequal struggle and went to bed. A couple of beers certainly hastened my move to the bed, but I was feeling a bit pooped after the drive. 

We have three full days ahead of us at Selkirk and plan to do very little. Let's hope we achieve that lofty aim.

As a postscript to this entry, I should mention that this travel day was, coincidentally, our sixteenth wedding anniversary, so congratulations to us.

The sites at Selkirk are mostly pull-throughs, and are universally grassy. Unfortunately, on site 114 someone had obviously been camped for a while (two-week maximum) and there was a big, patio mat-shaped square that was completely devoid of grass. Those reprobates had clearly never been in the Scouts and learned that you take up or move your mat every couple of days. Still, we covered the area with our patio mat and it looked a wee bit better. 

Airstream Camping 2025 - July Dry Days

Tuesday dawned, dry and sunny, and this despite a cooler night than we've had for a while. Being just a few yards from Lake Erie will reduce the temperatures a little, and it's good to be cooler at night anyway, and it brings no temptation to fire up Towed Haul's noisy air conditioner.

As is my usual practice when camping, I woke early (not that I wanted to), and sat outside with coffee and a book. I don't do that often enough at home, and I really should. The campground was quiet, strangely so given how full it is at the moment, but it certainly aided my concentration on my book. As the time ticked on, though, people started to move, and a steady stream of bicycles moved past our site.

Talking of bicycles, it's been a growing trend for people to use electrically-assisted bicycles rather than the traditional leg powered vehicles when they're moving around the campground. The bikes look bulky, often have big fat tires (a fashion rather than a necessity I think), and are equipped with disk brakes front and rear that wouldn't look out of place on a motorcycle. They are also undoubtedly expensive. The thing is, I don't really see the point of them. If you're unable to pedal a bicycle for some reason, then maybe they're a good thing, but the majority of people I've seen riding these bikes have looked perfectly capable of pedalling. Perhaps I'm being unfair and everyone who has an electric bike really can't pedal a regular one, but I'm not convinced. So if you can pedal a regular bike, why use an electrically-assisted version? Laziness? Fashion? Status? I don't know, it's probably a mix of all of those things, but for the able-bodied, for zipping around a campground, what is the point? Ah, it's just me being grumpy.

It has been very dry this summer, and despite constant threats of storms and heavy rain, Rondeau Park is looking parched. The threats, of course, simply have not materialised. Our little site here has turned to sand, which I've not seen before, and everything is dusty. I'd imagine that the standing water that is normally found deep in the woods here is still there, this spit of land is surrounded by water, fresh, non-salt water after all, but it is unusual for the non-wooded areas to look so dry. We have been here, even in summer, when everything has been wet and soggy, so I guess it's all cyclical, and I am enjoying having the awning out, unmolested by wind and rain. We leave on Thursday, and the forecast looks set fair up to and beyond that day, so I will make the most of it and enjoy the dryness. I will have to re-read this blog entry, though, the next time we're sat here in the Park and the rain is pouring down.

We chatted with some of our campground neighbours last night, and found out once again that the world can be a small place. Links were established over who knew who and what company did what, and it appeared that Mrs. Camper's work crossed over some work my brother does. As I said, it's a small world. We were also talking about what made Canadians Canadian, and Mrs. Camper came up with "Don't Insult the Butter Tart" if you're going to bond with a Canadian. That's as good advice as I've ever heard, and something I will remember, so think on if you're about to bond with anyone from Canada.

We spent a lot of our day at home when we should have been at Rondeau. Dear Wife had an appointment in town, and for various other reasons we didn't get back to Towed Haul until well into the evening. At least we were able to get some water onto the tomato plants, so it wasn't a complete waste of time. Please note the heavy use of sarcasm there.

I turned in relatively early again, but Dear Wife fell asleep on the couch and was snoring gently at 2:30am, with the lights still on. Such a rock and roll lifestyle. Tomorrow, Wednesday, is a down day. We are doing nothing that isn't camping related, and the car is staying put. We'll see how that pans out.

Airstream Camping 2025 - July Summer Days

Camping again, only this time it's in the summer holidays. We thought we'd given up rubbing shoulders with the family crowds now that we're retired, but a slot came up at our favourite campground and it was too good to turn down. I thought that we might be the only seniors around but no, the place is full of them, and not all are accompanied by grandchildren either. It seems odd that when you have quiet campgrounds in May and June, and again in September and October, that any retirees would opt to camp when the younger families are scrabbling for sites; it seems almost unfair. It's not unlike seeing all the old geezers grocery shopping on a Saturday when they, we, have had all week to do it. I don't know, maybe Ontario Parks should drop the Senior's discount for July and August to give the young 'uns a chance? Anyway, we're here, we're seniors, and it's very warm.

This past week we'd treated Towed Haul to a clean up inside and out, and she was gleaming. Or rather I thought she was gleaming. Being a total cheapskate, I'd used a pretend Chamois leather to wipe the water droplets off the skin of the trailer and it left horrible smear marks all over, which serves me right for being cheap. Not in my control, though, were the lovely birds that had crapped on the back of the camper; c'est la vie I guess.

Prepping to leave on Monday, we had set a departure time, but that disappeared into the Coleslaw Vortex. As I'm sure you know, the Coleslaw Vortex is when your thrifty wife decides to use up some veggies that are laying around to make a Coleslaw, when you should have been hitching up. Frugality is important, and leaving on time for a short run to Rondeau really isn't, so I'm not complaining, and we were only thirty-five minutes off schedule. These things happen.

At Rondeau, we hit a line of other trailers at the water fill station. It's not the best idea to travel with a full freshwater tank, not least because even with our little camper, that near-fifty gallons of water weighs quite a lot. So most people will travel dry, or almost dry, and fill up at the campground, at least at Provincial Parks that don't have a water supply on the sites themselves. There were two trailers ahead of us at the single water point, and it turned out that the one filling had only just started. We waited, with the car engine running to keep its A/C going in the heat, and we waited. While the first one was filling, another trailer not in the line pulled up on the opposite side of the water point and started to unfurl a hose. There is indeed a tap at the base of the water point, and he connected his hose to that while the first fellow was still filling and started to fill his own tank. While I applaud his ingenuity, he had both jumped the line up, and made a very slow water point run at half-speed for the guy still filling from the proper water point. That's not really cricket, is it? Still, there was nothing we could do. While we waited for the person in front of us to fill, I emptied the black and grey water tanks of the residue from last week's cleaning efforts, and we continued to wait. Goodness, that trailer must have had a massive water tank because it took absolutely ages to fill. All in all we waited a good forty minutes before we could fill, and by that point I'm thinking that one watering point really isn't sufficient. 

There was a reason for my growing anxiety, and that was the fact that Emma and Charlie were due on site, and we had effectively lost our whole time buffer. Trying to set up while Charlie "helps" isn't easy, particularly in the heat, so we were rushing around and getting ever more flustered trying to beat their arrival. Sadly, we didn't quite make it. Curses!

Charlie wants everything at once, of course, so we had to finish setting up with the whirlwind around us. We did manage to get him away with his mother for a while, which enabled me to finish up, but on their return, things were back into rushing mode.

We had promised Charlie a fire and roasted marshmallows, so in the heat of the afternoon, he and I built up a kindling tower in the fire pit, set it ablaze and stacked some logs on top as the flames built up. It was a good fire, even if I do say so myself, but in the very hot sun it all seemed a bit unnecessary. DW had prepared some baking potatoes, in three layers of tin foil, so I positioned those at the base of the fire, while Emma and Charlie did their marshmallow thing. 

Now here's a Canadian thing I don't fully understand, S'mores. S'mores are sweet campfire treats that people go nuts for, but I just don't get. Take a Graham Cracker, put a square of milk chocolate on it, stand a freshly roasted marshmallow on the chocolate, then cover with another Graham Cracker. Squeeze the whole contraption together and eat it. The cracker crumbles, the melting chocolate goes everywhere, while your hands and mouth are covered in the sticky and crumby goo. Emma loves them, Charlie thinks he does, DW spills their contents all down her front and I look on uncomprehendingly. As I said, I don't really get it.

The upside of the fire, though, was three perfectly cooked baked potatoes. If you plan to cook in a fire, though, make sure you double or triple wrap the potatoes in tin foil, and turn them regularly. Oh, and a perfectly set fire helps as well - all that training with the Scouts wasn't wasted.

Once our visitors had departed, things settled down. We tidied the site up a bit, put a few things away, poured some drinks and retired to the bug tent for the evening. I'd strung some coloured lights up in there and it was quite jolly watching the light fade and listening to the campground quietening down. Despite the number of people here, by nine it was pretty quiet and while we couldn't see them, the Raccoons were abroad, if the noises outside were anything to go by. I hadn't intended to have an early night, but I was in bed by eleven, which is early for me, and in the Land of Nod almost immediately. 

Tuesday is going to be a bit of an odd day, but with fine weather forecast, I'm sure we'll make the most of it.

Airstream Camping 2025 - To Conclude the First Trip

We awoke to dry weather. Again. This despite the dire warnings of storms overnight. I guess we've been lucky.

Packing up day is always a little sad as there's not enough time to do much constructive, but plenty of time to think about the end-of-camp process and all the laundry it produces. Still, the weather was fine.

The previous evening, a group of young people took over the two sites opposite. They had three tents, fours cars and eight people. I admired the precision with which they erected their tents and amalgamated the two sites for the group gathering, this was obviously something they'd done before. They were quite noisy, too, but it was just friends, or possibly family, having a good time, and celebrating a birthday, too. They were equally as noisy this morning as well, but to my great surprise they started packing up their gear (with the same precision they'd set it up), and I overheard one of them tell a passerby that they were packing up because of the forecast rain. I wondered if that was an altogether wise decision given the imprecision of the weather forecasts.

We had our lunch before starting to prepare to leave, and again I was surprised at how easily we do this now, especially compared to when we started camping. A place for everything and everything in its place is a good maxim. Hitching up is easier as well, and in no time at all we were easing off the site and making our way to the dump station. 

There was a bit of a line up at the dump station, but no one was using the alternate side to the dumping area. I went to speak with the person ahead of me and asked if he minded me going around him to use the other side. It turned out that he was waiting to fill his water tank rather than dump, so I suggested that he use the alternate side of the water point for that, too. So, I went around, and he followed, and the line up evaporated - more camping experience coming into play.

As I was dumping our tanks out, I started to chat with a man who was using the regular side of the dump facility. I detected a British accent, but failed miserably when I accused him of being English; he was was, in fact, Welsh. I apologized profusely, because that's an awful mistake to make, although perhaps no worse than people accusing me of being Australian. Anyway, he turned out to be from Swansea, and he lived in Chatham, so we bonded over the poop as it flowed into the underground vaults. Nice to meet you, Anthony.

So relaxed was I as we headed home, north up Kent Bridge Road, that I didn't realise I was only doing 60kph, and not the 80kph limit. In these here parts, speed limits are the minimum speed you drive at, and I'd collected quite a line of cars behind me, so I thought I'd better step on it a bit. It was windy, too, although still hot and dry. I was glad that I'd firmly tightened the anti-sway bars because the crosswind was tugging at us a fair bit. People always assume that towing uphill is a problem, when in reality going downhill is harder, as is driving in any kind of strong wind. The Airstream is more slippery than all other travel trailers, but you can still feel crosswinds and headwinds quite markedly.

Back home it was hotter than at the lake, and it was seriously sweaty work unhitching and unloading, but you have to do what you have to do. 

We went on this trip to unwind from the excitement of a month in England, and I think that aim was achieved. We were also quite glad to be away from the campground with the Canada Day weekend upon on us, there wouldn't have been an empty site in the whole place. The weather looked set fair for the eager campers, so, Happy Canada Day one and all! 

Airstream Camping 2025 - Still Here at Rondeau

Thursday dawned, still dry, still storm free, and this despite every weather forecast known to man saying we were in for a deluge. I'm not complaining of course, and I think we were very lucky to avoid a big one today after everything went misty and quiet for a while in the afternoon, which is a sure sign of an impending storm. But no, the mist lifted, the wind picked up a little and the sun continued to shine. Excellent.

It was another quiet day. Reading, tooling around on the Internet and generally recharging our own batteries. Lots of people left their sites today, and for a while it was comparatively deserted here on the South Campground, but come the witching hour of 2pm they started rolling in, all set for the long weekend. We've long known that folks like to arrive for the weekend on a Thursday, which is great if you can get the time off work I suppose. I'm still wondering how we managed to snag Site 16 for the week that included the Thursday night. When you camp here, you're supposed to put your camping "ticket" on the post at the entrance to your site, and that says when you're leaving. I've been quite surprised to see so many people here at the start of the week are booked through until after the long weekend. They either have massive fresh water and waste water tanks on their campers, or they're using the campground's facilities, because we can only practically go three nights without a top up and a top down. I'm grateful that Ontario Parks have a stay limit of two weeks, otherwise the selfish people among us would book these places solid for the summer.

We did take a couple of run-outs, though, one to get some crisps from the convenience store at the park's gate, and another to drive up to Craves Poutinerie in Blenheim, for what is known in certain parts of the UK as a "Chippy Tea". Chips (fries) and Poutine, eaten in the car while we idly watched the people watching the baseball in the park opposite. Actually I liked the idea of a chippy tea, not only because I like my chips, but because it was all so spontaneous. Of course, the not very defrosted Gumbo in the fridge also influenced our decision. We can have that tomorrow.

This being the Canada day weekend, it stirs up some mixed emotions. We're not flag wavers and never have been, despite both being naturalized citizens of this country. I like it here, and I'm happy to be a Canadian, but this nation was formed on the backs of the native people, under colonial rule which, to this day, marginalizes the indigenous nations within Canada's modern day borders. Treaties are still broken and land still stolen, so it can be tough to celebrate around the flag. But this past year, our orange friend south of the border has done a great job in uniting Canadians, including us, against his ridiculous imperialist claims over this country. Even Quebecers, not normally great believers in the nation of Canada, have slipped in behind the flag and are presenting, at the moment at least, a united front on all things Canadian. So this year, while not flying the flag, we may just have a thought or two about being Canadian and about how fortunate we are not to be the 51st State.

The day ended in an odd way for me. I was feeling a bit sleepy, so at about 8:30 I went to lie on the bed and read a while. At just past midnight I woke, feeling seriously groggy, and discovered that DW had done the same thing on the sofa. What a pair. Still, I guess that's what this trip is all about.

Packing up tomorrow, and heading out before the serious rush. Happy Canada Day!

Airstream Camping 2025 - The Camping Continues

A warm night. OK, a hot night, tempered only by the occasional rumble of the air conditioner on the roof, but I slept reasonably well. I’m going through a phase of waking ridiculously early and not being able to get back to sleep, so I was up and about outside the trailer before seven, making up some coffee and reading my book.

Despite the dire weather forecast there had been no storms, not even any rain, so I brought the awning out again, having put it away the previous evening. The Zip Dee awnings on Airstreams are great, but they are not good in windy weather and have a tendency to break their support arms, so it’s always wise to stow them if the weather looks a bit suspect. The way we’re parked, we’re in the shade in the morning, but putting the awning out makes it feel like you have an additional room in your trailer, so out it came, if only to create an atmosphere.

I did eventually make my way to the “Comfort Station” – toilet and shower block to you and I – for a shower, and that’s one of the treats of Ontario Provincial Parks. We have a shower in the Airstream, but it’s small, and it uses up both fresh water and space in the grey water waste tank, so I make use of the Park’s facilities. I’ve spoken before about the curious design of the shower stalls, made to wet anything within range, and the fact that the authorities have saved money by getting rid of the cleaning contractors in favour of letting the Park’s own employees do the task, reluctantly and not at all well. But even a slightly grimy and sand filled shower stall doesn’t detract from the enjoyment of privacy and copious amounts of hot water. I always feel better after a park shower.

I do find it odd, though, that people feel the need to drive to the Comfort Station from their sites. It must have taken me three or four minutes to walk, in the glorious sunshine, yet my camping neighbours, on the two sites to the north of us, felt the need to drive. Each to their own, I guess.

Talking of walking (I’m a poet and I didn’t know it), what is this thing with electric bicycles? People haul a pair of big electric bicycles with them on camping trips, then scoot around the park on them, and I don’t know why. Not the scooting around, but why the need for electric motors and batteries? Everyone with these bikes looks more than capable of using a regular person-powered bicycle, especially here as it’s as flat as a billiard table. I suppose they go a little faster than a regular bike, but it seems a bit pointless to me. Again, each to their own.

The day was then spent doing the square root of nothing at all. Well, not quite. I caught up on blogging, wrote a couple of notes to people, read a third of my book without falling asleep, so maybe it was a productive day. The main aim of the trip, though, is to recharge a little after the big UK trip. A holiday from the holiday. In that respect, all aims were being achieved.

I say it every time we come to Rondeau, but we are so lucky to live close to such a wonderful place. It’s a spit of land jutting out into Lake Erie, has 12km of sandy beaches on one side, and a captive, shallow pond, Rondeau Bay, on the other. It’s also one of the last vestiges of natural Carolinian Forest left in North America and is home to an amazing array of flora and fauna. The bay’s turtles have done laying their eggs, but they’re still around. The snakes, though you rarely see them, are about, and the rabbits and chipmunks are legion. Indeed, so legion that I had one little cheeky chipmunk try climbing my leg as I sat reading my book. The surprise was enough, but DW has seen the event unfold and failed to mention the impending assault. As I’m sat here writing, under the awning again, the chipmunks are skittering around my feet. The little buggers.

Birds are the real draw here at Rondeau, though. As we sat out in the afternoon, we watched Grackles and Red-Winged Blackbirds bouncing around our patio mat. A blue jay sat on the fire ring not eight feet away, and the Mourning Doves and American Robins were everywhere. We saw an occasional Baltimore Oriel, and some Yellow Warblers, and high above the tree canopy, the Turkey Vultures circled on the breeze. There are many birds you can’t see but can hear, and that’s where the Merlin bird call phone app comes in, listening for birds and suggesting what type of bird it’s hearing. It all great stuff and is what makes Rondeau such a wonderful place to visit.

It was baked potato and beans for supper, plus beer and wine, and a squiz at an old movie to wind down in the evening. Our film was “Went The Day Well”, a classic British wartime movie about a failed German invasion in rural in England during the Second World War. I don’t know how I’d never seen it before, and I may have to watch it again, because I managed to fall asleep during parts of it, and that takes me all the way back to the beginning of this post, when you wake early, you end up falling asleep early. Still, who’s complaining?

We’re here until Friday, it’s a long weekend in coming up in Canada, and so far, we have had great weather, despite the forecast. Let’s hope it stays that way.

Airstream Camping 2025 - We Start Again

Our first trip of the year in Towed Haul and an auspicious start it may turn out to be.

When cleaning her out, I discovered a soft spot or two in the floor, just by the couch by the door. A gentle press with my fingers resulted in a muted rustling sound beneath the vinyl floor covering, and a definite dip. The dreaded rotten floor, caused by some unseen leak of water under the vinyl. Repairing that is a major task and I don't think we have will, or the money, to fix it. Maybe we'll call this our last season and sell the old girl on as a project for someone else. It's a bit annoying because it's all happened unseen, and therefore we've done nothing about it. Interestingly, the noise from the floor is giving off dry vibes, but maybe I'll check it again after some rain. Who knows?

Back to this trip, and it's the usual three-nighter at Site 16 at Rondeau Provincial Park. Almost as soon as we'd hauled the old girl out of storage, we legged it to the UK for a month, so my first job in returning to Canada was to clean her up, inside and out, check everything was working, and sanitize the fresh water system. To my surprise, the good people at CanAm RV had filled the fresh water tank, so after draining it, refilling it and adding a little bleach, I had quite a bit of stinky water to clear out of the internal water lines. CanAm had cleared the anti-freeze, but water in the lines, sat there for a month, needed to go. It's worth pointing out that we don't drink the water from the fresh water tank and lines, we always bring fresh in another container for that, but no one wants to shower or wash their dishes in stinky water. The bleach (3/4 cup for 45 gallons), by the way, works well, but you do have to flush it through properly.

When we loaded up and prepped for travel, the weather was being silly. Temperatures around 36-37C and blazing sunshine, plus some humidity, and I was wet through with sweat. The onboard fridge and freezer was complaining as well, struggling to keep cold. But, being the troopers that we are, we hitched up, checked the lights and brakes and hit the open road. Well, we had to inch past the badly parked cars fifty yards from our driveway first, but then we hit the open road.

Our hitch receiver on the Toadmobile is rusty, the result of thirteen Canadian winters. I fret that it will break as we're towing, and perhaps I should have had it replaced. But, it's been modified by CanAm RV and is pretty sturdy. When we hitch up we use the Airstream's jack to lift the car, and I reason that if it's going to break, it'll do it then. Today it was all good.

It was hot driving towards Lake Erie, and windy, too. The gas mileage was moderate, but you could tell that the wind was coming into play. But the Toadmobile took it all in its stride and in no time we were wheeling into the park and making our way to our personal site. It's not really our personal site of course, but it feels like it.

Setting up was another sweat-inducing chore, although the temperatures were seven or eight degrees down because we were on the lake front. Site 16 also allows us to set up in the shade, which was helpful. The forecast was for thunderstorms, and the sun was in and out of the clouds. There was a few spots of rain, then a short shower, and the occasional rumble of thunder, but that was all. The sun came out and the temperatures went back up, and everything was summery again. 

Someone came by and stopped at the site opposite and expressed amazement that it was still dry in the park. She had been caught in a storm just a couple of miles away, and yet we knew nothing about it. It's a good job that thunderstorms are so localized.

Of course when it gets hot, we have to power up the cold air in the Airstream. It's good to have, essential actually, but it's noisy. DW, though, did a fine job tuning it so that it was come on and go off at reasonable intervals, which is what we needed if we were to get any sleep.

The afternoon was hot and we did very little, apart from drive out to the convenience store just outside the park's gate and stock up with beer and nibbles. Then we went back to the store to exchange one of the boxes of cookies we'd bought for a non-dairy type. Gawd, pick up the wrong ones. 

Barn Swallow

Tree Swallow

As the evening set in we enjoyed some of DW's homemade vegan stew (which is really very good), before setting off on a short walk to have a look at Rondeau Bay. The little park store was closed up for the night, but the Barn Swallows that live there were busy, as were the Purple Martins and the Tree Swallows. We watched a pair of Tree Swallows feeding their young in a nesting box that had been installed by the park rangers. At first we stood too close, which made the male fly around us in wide circles, and the female sit and wait. We took just a few steps further back and then the feeding commenced, with the female flying off to get insects, and the male sat atop the nesting box, on guard. There were a ton of other birds around as well, as our Merlin bird call app registered around ten other species of birds, just from their calls. This is why we love coming to Rondeau.

It's not yet school summer holiday time yet, so the campground is occupied most by old geezers like us. It was very quiet last night, and I think many had turned in for the night by 10pm. We campers are pure rock and roll. How we will sleep with the "air" on I don't know, but hopefully it will seem like background noise. Still no thunderstorms, but I put the awning away, just in case.