Who runs Bordertown?

Onward and upwards forever into new and more exciting worlds.

My great Canadian adventure ‘s end saw me holed up in Grand Portage, MN escaping God’s wrath and nature’s fury. This is becoming a common theme…

Northern Ontario is yet another desolate wasteland, seemingly even more remote and more foreboding than the Quebec frontier. I guess that’s Canada for you. There’s just nothing up there.

Great trucks rumble past, big old road trains hauling lumber and ore and little white fluffy things that blow all over the place. They  buffet you with wind and cold. Massive welded tubular steel bumpers adorn their fronts, assuring their victory of machine versus moose in this great frontier. Moose are big creatures. Large and in charge. They weigh a lot.

 I saw a dead one on the side of the road, crushed by one of the road trains, eyes open.

I never jettisoned the gas can from Chibougamau lore. It rode with me the whole time through Ontario and it was needed again twice. Like I said, there’s just not much up there.

Lakes and trees and lakes and trees, truly a land of striking and monotonous beauty.

Lakes of every color, one after the other for miles and miles. Dark blue, light blue, brown, green, and the magnificent but rare lake consisting of a turquoise hue, no doubt due to the presence of copper in its bottom.  There are literally enough lakes in Northern Ontario to drive you insane.

The road stretches for miles and your eyes glaze over. I fell asleep on the bike at around noon on the second day. A really short cat nap man, about a second. The road is straight so no matter.

Strange billboards tout resplendent feasts at upcoming restaurants. The pictures on them look just like Hungry Man tv dinners.

Ample opportunities for bush camping exist up here. Hundreds of dirt trails lead off into this godforsaken country. For what for, who knows.  Take one, any one, please. Set up your pup-tent and you’re golden, but don’t forget your mosquito repellent. Tenting it on the summer solstice will yield a bright sky well into the night.

This is wilderness and it really is beautiful, but it’s pretty clear that God doesn’t want man up here. At least on a motorcycle. I pined for the states man, big time. Fucking Canada. Gas is almost $6 a gallon and people are still speaking French 20 miles away from Minnesota. And it’s cold and wet. Riding down from Hearst on Trans Canada Hwy 11 it just started raining and wouldn’t stop; hours and

Bush Camp night #2 Summer Solstice edition

hours of rain and cold. And all the time that chain stretches and stretches and I was praying that I would not have to source a chain somewhere in fucking Ontario. The road to the states passes through Thunder Bay. Across the bay lies a sleeping giant, a great guardian of the land which lies reposed and made of rock. It is truly a sight to behold so I hear, ah but if only I could see it! The storm was so great!

A return to the states yielded a small victoy. Still cold, still wet but with chain intact and back in America, holed up in Bordertown awaiting the storm’s passing . $40 will buy you a palace for the night in this great Northern Kingdom.

 

 

Timmy Hortons Timbits: a real steal at $1.99 for 10 (extra timbits for the lonesome dove traveller)

 

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2 responses to “Who runs Bordertown?

  1. brandy turnbuckle

    That spaceship is at best, sophomoric but at least there ain’t no coverup up in Canuck-scape. Even tho you’ve already been abducted w/ you’re real body splintered w/ triangular tinbits, at least the overlords of the future have supplanted you w/ blog access and weather simulacrae. NY is now a gay powergrab by Cuomo; enjoy the indifference to sexuality in the great yonder, where the rainbows are real representations of vapor prisms and not chinese fabric glued to a stick! but yea, who cares. If you need a chain, why don’t one of us just FedEx one somewhere to a soon-ish pinprick on your itinery. Horton hears a poo, cut w/ a stream of piss on a toilet shelf somewhere in the great Yukon. May the honda run x/0… playa…

  2. just read this posting today…somehow i missed it before. i’ve been going to the beach lately and the atlantic waves say hello. your bush camps look nice, but how’s your nutritional health? living on tim hortons? i hope not!

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