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Golden Moments "Cherish all your happy moments: they
make a fine cushion for old age." The sun rose a glowing ball of red. The intense natural beauty caused me to forget the previous day's clueless metal-caged road barbarians. All seemed right with the world. Two school kids on BMX bikes raced past, then made a hard left a couple of hundred metres farther along. Following them, we discovered a Rails to Trails path. Soon, we were wending our way past old wooden fences, beneath a canopy of maple and oak. Vibrant red and gold leaves surrounded us, the trees in throes of a breathtaking autumnal clothing change. "The locals know where the good trails are," Sharon said. "This is our most scenic route in days." "And we don't have to worry about being sideswiped by motorhomes, trucks, buses, vans, cars, or houses," I reminded her. (Guess I hadn't forgotten the clueless hog's heads after all.) Near Warsaw, we stopped and asked a fellow in his yard for directions to a nearby county road. After furnishing the directions, he cautioned, "You folks know how dangerous camping 'freebies' are, don't you?" We nodded. "One time," he continued, "I stayed in a free camping spot alongside the road, and a child was abducted during the night. I've never used a freebie site since." We thanked him for his advice and prepared to push on. "If you want," he offered, "you can camp in my backyard down by the stream." Sharon and I smiled. His message seemed to be: 'Don't take freebies from strangers ... unless I'm the stranger.' Sharon and I usually tried to hide a bit when we chose a free camp spot. And, of course, not having a vehicle sticking out like a sore thumb on the roadside, once we're off the highway a ways, we become nearly invisible. Sometimes, embarrassingly so. One night, in Nanaimo BC, we had set up under the stars in the midst of shrubbery. Around 2 am an amorous couple roused us, making whoopee a mere five feet from us. My only complaint: I wasn't wearing my glasses. As we grew wiser, we abandoned camping in towns altogether. Quick learners that we are (it only took us a few years), we finally figured out we had a better chance of uninterrupted sleep if we hit a town late in the day, bought food supplies, then headed out into the countryside, on the lookout for a concealing grove of trees. We turned down the man's gracious invitation - not because we didn't trust him. Rather, it was because Sharon had phoned Claren and Kevin, friends formerly from Edmonton, who had moved to Ottawa, then Kingston. They were expecting us the following day at their new home in Kingston. To have any hope of showing up as planned, we had to put on some miles. Oh, to be tied to a schedule! Partway to Norwood, Sharon realized she had asked for directions to the wrong town. "There's too many places named Something-wood," she griped. Maybe we should have accepted that camping invitation after all? Back on track, we stopped for supper beside Rice Lake Waterway. A 73-year-old woman toddled over to talk with us. "We've come to Hastings to look at a yacht that's for sale," she informed us, beaming. She and her husband were from Phoenix. "We intend to buy it," she said in a bubbly tone. "Then we're going to spend three years exploring some US waterways." Her grey eyes fairly danced with excitement as she shared their dream. "And after that," she said, "we're going to sail up the coast of North America to Alaska." We smiled. What an adventure! It was moving to see a long-married couple still so very much in love with each other and still eager to experience new adventures together. Sharon and I hoped that we, like them, would share many golden memories together. |
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