This blog is about part 1 of my 20,000+ mile car-camping trip with my dogs from DC to Alaska via Labrador. Part 1, in 2011, was to the end of the road in northeastern North America in Labrador and then on to Quebec and Ontario, 7609 miles. Part 2, which took place in 2012, picked up where Part 1 left off in Ontario and was supposed to extend to Banff and Jasper National Parks in the Canadian Rockies, but Leben, my male German shepherd, became paralyzed on the trip so we cut it short. We will finish the journey in 2013, when we will return to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska.

Day 29, Saturday, September 17. Veilleux Camp, Hearst, Ontario

Day 29, Saturday, September 17. Veilleux Camp, Hearst, Ontario

My plan for the day was to drive from Kettle Lakes camp near Timmins, Ontario, to the Fushimi Provincial Park near Hearst, which, from what I learned, is actually the farthest north one can drive to in Ontario.  I stayed at Fushimi in 2000 on my way home from Alaska with Sonntag and remembered what a pleasant place it was.  I checked Woodall's Camping Directory  and it reported that Fushimi was open to late September, and I recall staying there in mid-September before.  No one answered the phone when I called to check, but the message said that it opens in mid-May and said nothing about its being closed, so Fushimi was my destination for the night.

The drive to Fushimi was only 200 miles or so, so I slowed down my pace a bit to enjoy the drive on route 11.  The road was virtually empty and for the most part in excellent condition, so I  could adjust my speed to whatever was needed to make it to Fushimi by 5:00.  I even stopped to let the dogs out a few extra times since  I was confident of making my deadline.  My only fear was that Fushimi was booked up for the weekend, which would have been a problem since the only other camp listed in Woodall's was essentially an RV pitstop  on the highway, not some place I wanted to camp.  The next campsite beyond Fushimi was five hours away.  

I recall that Fushimi was located six miles up a dirt and gravel road from the main highway.  When I finally reached the turnoff, I saw the sign for Fushimi, but then my worst fear was worsened.  At the  bottom of the sign were the words Closed-Ferme.  What?  It can't be closed, I thought.  This has to be  a mistake.  Maybe they put the sign up for tomorrow.  Or if it is closed, maybe it is not gated and I can still camp there.  Instead of just accepting the obvious, I turned onto the dirt and gravel access road to Fushimi and made tracks for it, forgetting that my back window was rolled up, meaning that I collected a ton of dust in my Defender.  When I finally reached the entrance to Fushimi, my even-worsened worst fear was worsened further.  The road to Fushimi was gated, with a huge STOP sign right in he middle of it.   I looked  for a way to drive around the gate, but it was clear others had the same idea, so Mr. Fushimi had driven several immovable iron rods between  the gate and the impassable tundra beyond.  Not ready to give up, I   took out my iPad to access Google Earth to see how  long this last stretch to Fushimi was so I could possibly walk the final distance with Leben (he cannot walk more than a mile or so), but there was no 3G service there.  So I decided to hike up the road to see how far it was, but after a mile gave up and headed back to the Defender.  (I since  learned it is 6 kilometers, which Leben could not have done.). I then thought about using my bolt cutters to cut the lock on the chain holding the lock, but decided against that, too. 

 Back at route 11, I pulled out my cell phone and called the next campsite towards Thunder Bay, my destination tomorrow.  Yes, they were open, and yes, they welcome dogs.  Problem was that they were five hours away.  Since you cannot camp on Crown (public) lands without a permit, and since there really were no interesting places along this long road to pull over and bivouac or he night,  asked the woman on he phone if she knew of any places  near Hearst where I could camp.  She gave me the number for he Vieuxville camp, about 30 miles back in the direction I had just come from.  I called Vieuxville and the woman who answered said that they took dogs, but they were closed for the season.  However, she said, sinc they had not yet turned off the electricity or water, I was welcome to stay there, so off I flew to the camp.

By the way, in addition to Woodalls, I also join KOA and  carry a list of their  camps, always a last resort,  but the closest KOA was six hours away, not an option.   I also join the ANNR and carry with me a list of their camps after an experience I had on my first road trip when a ANNR camp was the only camp around for miles late one stormy night when I discovered that the bridge to my preferred camp had washed out in the storm and I would have had to detour for 100 miles to get to it.  But I knew they'd be no ANNR camps this far north (too cold for that),  so I did not consult my list of those camps. 

Well, what had the potential to turn into my worst camping night on this trip by far, turned out to be the best.  What a delightful camp Veilleux  turned out to be.  Set on a wonderful little lake in a tundra setting, it gave me the most wonderful sun setting I have seen in a long time.  The dogs took to the lake like fish to water and could not get enough of the other animal smells all around.  And to make matters even better, a group of other campers, all residents of Hearst celebrating the season's end, invited me to join them in their final meal of the season,  which was more food than I had this past week, and much, much better.  What wonderful hospitality!  What a surprise!  I never cease to be amazed at how a potential disappointment can be turned into the exact opposite.  

After I set up camp, I discovered in back of our tent in a peaceful setting a small wooden cross with "Hercul, 1999-2010" inscribed on it.  I later asked Jocelyn, the camp owner, if that was his dog.  It was,  a golden retriever named Hercules.  My first thought was that when I drove by Hearst 11 years ago with Sonntag, Hercul was only a one-year old pup, and now he was gone.  Life passes quickly.  I then left on his grave a dog treat, the way we leave flowers on graves of those we loved.  (Lebem found the treat the next mrning but I made him return it.)

On the repair note, it seems I have another one to tend to.  It seems that the zipper on my winter sleeping bag becomes separated during the night, just when I need that bag the most.  I was wondering why I have been freezing in it these last few nights.  I'll figure out some solution, even perhaps adding some of the Velcro I brought.

Tomorrow I will set out for Thunder Bay and Sleeping Giant Park, which I know is open, and then not world-famous Lake Bukemiga.  The weather here is very cold (the high today was 62F, and it snowed twice this week here),  but we can handle that, I hope.  (What I cannot handle are parks that close early because it is too cold.). And then I will declare this trip ended and head for home, arriving in about 10 days, hopefully after the oppressive DC heat has disappeared.

Ed

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