Contemplations from Inverhuron
They even have their own flag!
Our neighbours for a few days.
So much sand here they put the cottages right on the beach.
Sunday, June 11, 2017. Retyped on June 13 in the Southampton Sparkles Laundromat, our first laundry mission of the trip.
Lyndsay and I are sitting on a cedar log in Inverhuron Provincial Park. An enchanting forest of cedars surrounds us. The little Sauble River trickles by, on its journey to join with the lake to our near west, as the waves from the beach crash in the distance. But in the forest the calmness and serenity is overpowering. Being in this forest brings an amazing euphoria to me. I contemplate sparking inspiration.
Coming back to this area is like a mental time capsule. Memories of the cottages, beaches and swimming in the blue green water come rushing back. I used to explore these very woods as a child. A force unseen draws me further down paths, roads, rivers and across lakes. I feel as though I was meant to explore. Meant to see what is around the next curve in the road or hill on the path. Perhaps that force was what drew me out of my desk job and onto the open road.
With no real plan we skip from town to town, beach to beach and friendly conversation with locals to the next. Lyndsay said last night that we should do this forever. That seems like a dream worth pursuing. Spending my days doing others bidding seems impossible right now. I wonder where I will be and what I will be doing in the future when our Golden Van ceases to start. I should be writing about the minutia of my days in fear that tomorrow the memories of Kincardine, Kettle Point, Inverhuron or the people we meet along the way will wane.
Colby was supposed to meet us at Inverhuron last night but he didn't come. A sore knee from a work accident has kept him from work and joining us. I hope it's not serious. Regardless, we found a great spot to park the van at the end of a dead end road, right next to the park. A quick BBQ and we were on the beach to enjoy the sunset with a bottle of wine. The wind howled across the lake like an unstoppable force. It shortly became too much to handle. Next to where we parked was an otherworldly dune area, seemingly plucked from a cheesy Sci-Fi movie. At night we escaped the lake winds and stood in the sand forest as the cedars swayed around us and a whippoorwill sang in the trees.
To escape the cool winds we spent our first night watching a movie on our laptop in the Van. Interstellar had us wondering about space, the moon and the stars so we planned to venture out late to enjoy the night sky. When we returned the sky was lit up by the moon. So bright it felt like morning. Shadows fell all around us. I felt as thought I could view a poker hand in the moonlight.
This morning we walked into the woods. The sand and dune forest made way to a thick jungle like setting that was surprisingly bug free. A pleasant consequence of the constant Western winds blowing from the massive Lake Huron through these woods. I stood in the cool Little Sauble River, which at this point is more of a creek, and tell Lyndsay of eerie missing persons reports I had heard about hikers and campers vanishing in forests around North America without a trace under very strange circumstances. Typically, I tell her, they happen in areas just like this, where rushing rivers provide excellent cover for attackers.
She sits down next to me on the fallen cedar log and asks me to tell her more stories when I am finished writing. My hand tires, her request, and that inspiring spark call for me to stop scribbling away in my notebook. This Flight Tonight by Nazareth and Joni Mitchell play in my head as I scroll through the Rolodex of stories in my mind.