THE FAT LADY SINGS

Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario: Nothing’s ever over. Whatever it is just unravels into something else. After the fat lady sings, another fat lady sings a new, slightly different song. Fog was the rule after Marathon, on the water, in the valley, low down just above tree tops. I stopped for the night in Wawa, off the big lake it had a lake of its own. There are far fewer truck stop - travel centers in Canada than the USA so they have parking areas located inconspicuously somewhere off the road or behind a filling station. I found the spot just outside of Wawa. Sleep was uncomfortable, humidity so high there was a ‘Damp’ on everything. Condensation droplets hung from the inside of my camper shell like wannabe stalactites. I reasoned for the sake of good attitude, you need down days or you wouldn’t recognize the great ones. Three restaurants on the same block main street but two out of business. The Embassy had lights on, cars in front. The little, old lady waitress was funny without trying. I doubt she would appreciate my observation but I got the best breakfast there since I left on this cruise.

Wawa visitor center advertised two, scenic waterfalls but the road to them was flooded. No waterfalls today but it rains a lot. Maybe leaving town was all it took for things to look up. Sky cleared, sun shined and pull offs were there for all the scenic spots; not many good photo-scapes but stopping, walking, it was looking up. I stacked stones again, nothing empowering, just ritual for the sake of itself and the task of making something that isn’t supposed to last. Found a great spot on that beach where round to egg shaped (2.5 inch) pebbles were concentrated in a layer above another layer of (10 inch) cobbles. I supposed the wave action from a big blow had simply dropped the cobbles first and pushed the pebbles up a little farther. Gravity, inertia, friction; ain’t it great! 

Early afternoon: you come into Sault Ste. Marie without much warning. It’s summer cottages and boat houses, round a bend, top a hill and you’re in 4 lanes of curbs and stop lights. I could have very easily crossed back into USA then but I wanted to squeeze the lemon dry. For a full week I missed out on Hollywood egos, politician’s bad behavior, wild fires destroying ill conceived, shouldn’t have been there in the first place mini-castles and ESPN’s early predictions on the Super Bowl. So I stopped at a Wal-Mart Super Store. I found a remote corner of the lot and positioned my F-150 for the night. At the McDonald’s inside I caught up on e-mail, edited some photographs and walked isles, pushing a wheel barrow size cart, buying nothing but enjoying the walk. An hour and a half later, my little F-150 was surrounded by a herd of homes on wheels, all settled in for the evening. Wal-Mart allows RV people to camp in the lot as long as they arrive late, park far out and leave early. I thought I’b be left alone but no such luck. 

I closed up the truck and drove back along the route I came in on. Stopped at a combination General store, tourist trap, hunting & fishing center and filling station. Next door was small shopping center, more of the same. So I shopped some and had an ice cream bar. I asked at the General store if it was alright to park overnight at the back of the lot and it was. 

It had been warm and dry all afternoon, just right for sleeping, at least I thought so. I set up the generator in the twilight, organized my sleeping protocol with things put away or at least where they could be found. I noticed a few really big mosquitoes buzzing around my head. By 10:00 it was near dark and I slid into my sleeping bag. I would hear the familiar buzz-buzz and slid deeper into the bag, zipped it up all the way. The mosquito standoff lasted a few minutes and I went under covers completely. That got to be too hot, sweating and generally uncomfortable. So I came out to see what it looked like, turned on my handy LED search light and was taken aback. Neatly buttoned up with all obvious openings sealed off; so much for sealing off, in the beam of my light there must have been (I want to say a thousand but realistically I estimate) 50 or 60 mosquitoes inside the camper shell with me. My first impression was of old World War II newsreels where giant formations of allied bombers flew over Germany. Much of the danger there was manifest in close formation flying and risk of mid air collisions, getting to and from the target. Those mosquitoes were holding formation and I was the target. 

Long story-short; I managed to get repellant applied, grabbed keys, light, jacket and headed out the back. I shut down the generator, unlocked the cab door and slid inside. There, to my surprise, the passenger window had been left open, only an inch or two but enough for the mosquitoes to be waiting. I rolled up the window but there must have been a dozen or more big, really big (expletive- #/@!!*<‘s) who had unexpectedly discovered a target. But the tables were turned. With insect repellant, a bright light and my bare hands I had transmogrified from an outnumbered, vulnerable victim into a death dealing monster. There was a lot of thrashing, light waving and swatting. I uttered words I learned from my father when he didn’t know I was listening. They could duck and hide, temporarily, but they couldn’t escape and I wouldn’t give up. Some top notch repellant had rendered me unappetizing so I didn’t have to duck or dodge any more. My retaliatory, seek & destroy mission lasted about 15 minutes. All quiet, bombers that hadn’t been destroyed were hiding so I turned the light out, waited, listened and I picked off 4 or 5 more in the next half hour. Sleeping in the cab was uncomfortable and I missed the support from my CPAP machine. It got cold and I had to start the motor-run the heater from time to time but I got some sleep. Most of the bombers flew back to where they came from, empty handed. When day light came I had survived with a purpose, to not do that again. I’ll have to plan new strategy and tactics for mosquitoes. Avoiding locations where vegetation and water favor the insects will be a bigger concern. Checking windows and organizing the cab for a speedy retreat will also get some attention. In any case, those big, dry, windswept parking lots are looking better. Even if I have to share space with monster RV’s, they won’t come after me in my sleep.