Today I saw a sign that said, “On e
very path there are a few puddles” and we stepped in one today. Stella’s fridge refused her propane feed and insisted on a diet of battery power or nothing. You can imagine what that did for our electrical load. Thankfully, the Ontario camping guide lists RV service centres in their glossy magazine so we tried a couple and found one that seemed promising (the bee sign gave us a good feeling). The waiting area consisted of a wrap-around deck, Adirondack chairs looking out over a view of fields and farmlands. Our books and conversation kept us occupied for the first 3 hours, the latter we walked. When the trouble was identified and parts could not be located, the friendly service tech fixed us up as best he could and sent us on our way. We had hoped for a more satisfying end, however, Stella’s fridge is on propane again and we’re off to the beach.
Instead of heading to Stratford (just yet), we took a turn east along the Georgian Bay shoreline and stopped at Intrawest’s Blue Mountain Ski Resort. If the name Intrawest sounds familiar, it could be because these are the same high-rolling folks who built Whistler and Mont Tremblant in Quebec. If I could transport you blindfolded to the centre of the village and un-blindfold you, you would think you were in Whistler. The thing is, Blue Mountain is on the Georgian Bay coast and that means that the residents’ perfect placement allows them to swim on the sandy shores in the summer and ski at a world class resort in the winter. While they may also benefit from sky-rocketing housing prices, they suffer as their property tax hops, skips and jumps beyond reach. Sadly, there were a lot of homes for sale.
Tonight we are camped at Craigleith on the beach watching the sun set as we si
t by our campfire, marveling at the fossils (photo) we found in the seaboard shale, planning our route for tomorrow and feeling sleepy from puddle-jumping. Bedtime.
