Learn to recognize good luck when it’s waving at you, hoping to get your attention.
The day starts with loons calling across the lake, mournful, then in that hysterical yodeling which sounds, frankly, loony. I don’t bother packing quickly since the sky is clear and I feel no pressure to move.
But I’m out before the boys – one of which wanders into my camp accidentally after using the outhouse, apologetic and embarrassed – and the father and son, who I walked in on as they were changing clothes, but fortunately for all of us, strategically placed overgrown ferns hid any private bits.
Traveling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, ‘I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.’
Lisa St. Aubin de Teran
I’ll leave for Isle Royale later this week for eight days of backpacking, but first it’s a much needed vacation with Richard “up north” at our friend’s house on the shore of Gitche Gumee, “the big lake” (the largest lake in the world by surface area, Lake Superior) as well as in the enchanted interior forests filled with waterfalls, ancient dike swarms, and fungi.