|Surfer dudes: Angus, left, and Sam show off their boogie boards and their, um, pecs.|
Please, a moment of silence in sympathy for the poor arseholes.
Sorry! No, no, I'm so NOT sorry! There's nothing more joyous than camping for a WEEK, in the prime of summer, the very breathing heart of summer, at the coolest provincial park in, oh, let's say, the entire province! And this with an optimistic forecast from Mr. Weather!
My feet are doing a happy dance under the table.
(Hear them tapping? hee hee)
The past weekend has been kinda noisy around here. But that's to be expected on a long weekend. A few campsites over, there must have been 20 20-somethings, laughing and fornicating. Just walking by you could smell the beer. And last night my nostrils twitched nostalgic at the distinctive sweet smell over by the grass-y knoll.
We went to bed by 10:30 because we were just wasted.
The day started out with an invigorating 45-minute bike ride around one of the park's trails. That was followed by a quick jaunt into town to buy a crock pot because, even though we have two crock pots at home, we neglected to bring one. And what's camping without a crock pot? Then we packed off to the beach, the glorious beach, where we stayed until suppertime and came back ravenous for perfectly crocked roast beef, taters and homemade coleslaw.
The beach is the reason we're here.
Inverhuron Provincial Park is on Lake Huron, near Kincardine, Ontario. It's almost a five hour drive for us, especially when we're towing the trailer. But it's SO worth the drive.
Where we live, Muskoka, there are many lakes but none of them are particularly large. Lake Huron, of course, is one of The Great Lakes, and when you're here, you might as well be at the ocean because you cannot see the other side.
It also has the most amazing sea-blue-green water, so crystal clear, and the beach runs for miles, pure, natural sand that ripples under your toes. No weeds. No rocks. Just big waves and big fun.
Now, there is a section of the lakefront that isn't beach-ey. Here the shore goes out ever-so-gradually, covered in many layers of flat rock. This is a stone-skipper's paradise, and the best place to watch a sunset. Last night Angus and Dave spent an hour there, Angus tossing stones, Dave taking photos (the one at the top of the blog was taken last night by Dave), the two of them talking and watching the sunset and getting to know each other even better.
While they were there, Sam drew pictures and I finished a book I was reading. We savoured our own bit of peace, dry and parched with wind and afternoon sun.
Already I feel the tension leaving my shoulders.
This is going to be good.