Day 47: A Misty Ride to Prisoners Cove



Bacon, eggs, and hot coffee fuels us for our next stint, Rossport to Nay's Provincial Camp Ground, only 95kms up the elephant. A heavy fog has followed the low off Lake Superior and Gin sets out in full rainwear. "Even the sparrows are walking today” is a term pilots use. The wind is neutral at times, helping at others. It dries out a bit for me and the riding is quite pleasant. As I tool around one corner there is a moose, not 30 yards off the highway. She's in wonderful shape, dark black coat, in her prime, an animal I'd say 5-6 years old. If she has a calf nearby, it's well hidden. I stop my bike and speak gently. Whether it calms her or not I don't know, but she continues to munch away ,paying little attention. "Hi moose, what's up? What ya eating? Having a good spring?” You know, all the regular things you'd say to a moose.

Gin hops on her Norco and we misjudge distances because soon she is leading the way into our campground at Nay's. This park is a beauty, full service, rangers patrolling the roads which wind around the shores of the big lake. There are several trails: The Dunes, Lookout and Prisoners Point, named after some beached boats which once carried prisoners of war to the nearby Pic River to mine silver. Q Dawg chose to run, as his exercise of choice , while K Dawg did a strenuous yoga workout followed by a long trail walk. Gin and I were excused as we had paid our dues, but Gin didn't accept her hot shower and cocktail until she had scrubbed the Starship's floor on her hands and knees (something we had not thought of). Lamb burgers sizzled away on the Weber as a golden moon rose over big Gitchagumi as it had done for millenniums.