Day 29: Webbwood to Petawawa 250, Miles 5 Hours

Day 29: Webbwood to Petawawa — 250 Miles, 5 Hours

“The Great White North”

Sleepyhead Tad didn’t wake up until 7 this morning instead of his customary 6 a.m. announcement that a new day had officially begun.

I pulled on my raincoat over my shorts, slipped into my rubber-topped shoes, put Taddy’s raincoat on him, and we headed out for his morning rituals around the gravel parking area at our Harvest Hosts stop at Clayton Farms.

It was wet and muddy, and a light drizzle was falling.

After Tad took care of business, we happily retreated into the warm sanctuary of the motorhome. I dried off his face, took off my shoes—and my now-wet socks, having discovered that both shoes had small leaks in their soles—and crawled back into bed beside Janice.

The next thing we knew, we woke up and looked at the clock.

9:30!

It was still so dark and dreary outside that we were shocked. Between the gloomy weather, crossing into the Eastern Time Zone, and four consecutive days of five-plus-hour drives, our sleeping patterns had become completely scrambled.

I received a text from one of our hosts asking if we were still planning to stop by their little gift store. She needed to run some errands.

I replied that we would be there in 30 minutes.

“Ok,” she responded.

I read between the lines of that one-word reply:

Get your lazy carcasses out of bed, you hosers. We’re running a farm here!

Janice and I tumbled out of the motorhome and trudged down the muddy road to the little one-room store the Claytons had built. They bought the 130-acre property six years ago and have made impressive progress creating their off-the-grid homestead.

We bought some eggs, licorice soap and a jar of green beans, thanked her for hosting us, and sloshed our way back through the mud to the motorhome.

We quickly packed up, put on dry socks, and headed east.

Our ultimate destination for the day was another Harvest Hosts location, Dog House Brewing Company in Petawawa, Ontario, about four and a half hours away.

But there was something along the way that we simply couldn’t resist.

A Canadian Costco, eh!

We needed gas anyway, so we made a slight detour into Sudbury to fill the motorhome and investigate what mysterious treasures might be lurking inside a Costco north of the border.

It continued raining off and on as we drove. The scenery was breathtaking. The fall colors were shifting from the yellows we had seen the previous day toward brilliant oranges and reds.

At times it felt as though we were driving through a watercolor painting—brilliant autumn foliage accented by magnificent walls and outcroppings of broken rock, with lakes tucked among thousands upon thousands of trees and shrubs.

We arrived at Costco sometime after 1 p.m., filled up with gas, and parked a considerable distance from the entrance.

Then we marched excitedly toward the store to see what Canadian Costco had waiting for us.

The place was packed!

For some reason, people seemed more focused and less engaging than we had experienced earlier in Canada. We had noticed the same thing along the way that day, folks seemed a little more matter-of-fact and less inclined to return a smile than we had experienced on previous Canadian trips.

Maybe it was the weather.

Maybe everyone just had serious Costco business to attend to.

Almost immediately after entering the store, I spotted the shoe section.

Boots!

Not just any boots, but a wonderful pair of knee-high waterproof boots like I had been looking for for a couple of years.

Into the cart they went.

We added some little cinnamon pastries, Bubly sparkling water, bananas, spinach-and-feta wraps and, naturally, some chocolate cookies to our traveling provisions.

Then we joined the LONG checkout line.

Remarkably, Costco had employees prescanning carts as we waited, and the line moved much faster than expected.

We rolled our cart back across the parking lot toward the motorhome. I graciously offered Janice a ride on the cart.

She declined.

Sadly, she did not extend the same offer to me. ;)

After unloading everything, I dutifully began pushing the cart toward the cart corral approximately 4,572 centimeters—or 50 yards—away.

I noticed that several less-dedicated shoppers had abandoned their carts along the way.

As I approached the corral, a middle-aged man wearing a Costco vest hurried over to greet me.

He looked at me and proclaimed:

“You, sir, are a gentleman and a scholar.”

Well!

I walked proudly back to the motorhome and immediately informed Janice that my qualities had finally been officially recognized.

I was now a gentleman and a scholar.

I put on another pair of dry socks, pulled on my brand-new knee-high sexy boots, climbed behind the wheel and assumed my position at the helm of the Chariot of the Dogs.

Somehow our “slight detour” to Costco added considerably more time to our journey, and we still had nearly four hours to go before reaching Petawawa.

We listened to local radio along the way and talked about everything going on politically back home as the magnificent Canadian landscape continued rolling past our windows.

We finally arrived at Dog House Brewing Company around 5 p.m. and checked in with Brady, the son in the father-and-son team behind the brewery.

Then came excellent news.

Tad could come inside!

Janice took him for a walk while we ordered dinner from a Jamaican food truck next to the brewery. I ordered Janice a pint of hazy IPA and ordered myself a flight so I could properly conduct important cross-border beer research.

The beer was excellent.

While I was ordering, Brady told me the story of Dog House Brewing. His father is retired from the military, and Brady is currently serving on active duty while also helping part-time at the brewery.

They started brewing in his dad’s basement about ten years ago, opened their brewery six years ago, and moved into their current location almost two years ago.

Their business is doing quite well.

Janice and Tad eventually headed back to the motorhome to get things set up and prepare for a KQUA Community Radio meeting we had scheduled for 8 p.m.

I stayed behind.

For research purposes, naturally.

I ordered another pint and browsed the merchandise.

After all, I like good beer. I like supporting dog-friendly—and people-friendly—businesses.

And I have, on occasion, found myself in the dog house.

So really, purchasing a few souvenirs seemed almost obligatory.

I was particularly proud of the black-and-red checkered Dog House Brewing flannel shirt I bought.

Eventually I returned to the motorhome, put on my new flannel shirt and my sexy new knee-high boots, and proudly modeled my ensemble for Janice and Tad.

At last, the transformation was complete.

I had become a true Canadian hoser.

Eh!

Janice was quite impressed.

At 8 p.m., we checked in with our KQUA radio peeps back in Oregon—some 2,600 miles and three time zones behind us.

When the meeting was over, we tumbled into bed.

Tomorrow would bring another border crossing and another chapter in our Grand Adventure. We were especially excited because waiting on the other side were our friends Jonathan and Susie.

Our journey through the Great White North was coming to an end.

So there was really only one appropriate way to say goodnight to Canada:

Coo roo coo coo, coo coo coo coo!

Take off, eh!

—Bob and Doug McKenzie, honorary patron saints of our brief transformation into Canadian hosers.

Day 28: Sept 30. Wawa to Espanola ON

The rain was barely perceptible as it pattered lightly against the motorhome roof, sounding like the gentle pull of an incoming tide—a steady, subtle rhythm that kept the quiet at bay. With the daylight shrinking a little more each morning, Tad’s sense of urgency seems to arrive earlier every day. He’s such a good dog when he isn’t chasing or pulling—never noisy, just executing a little prance to let us know it’s time to step outside and tend to business.

​I gave him five minutes to do his duty, then stepped back inside and lit the coffee pot. I kept the flame on the lowest setting, ensuring a slow percolation so the water could thoroughly filter through the grounds before the next surge of heat toppled over the top.

​With a good fifteen minutes to spare, I crawled back into bed and promptly dozed off into another rabbit dream. Julie was the star this time: she had brought a collection of rabbits into the office, while Melanie meticulously logged each of their hiding places in a bound ledger. Tad took an immediate liking to them, and they nestled right up against him. But, true to form, the population quickly began to multiply, and Julie’s little project rapidly spiraled out of control.

​I never found out how the story ended—Kasey rolled out of bed to turn off the coffee, breaking the spell before I could resume the dream. But I’m sure everything is just fine back in Roseburg with those 2 in charge.

Breakfast consisted of turkey bacon, shredded potatoes with green onions and eggs. All items we needed to utilize as we have had them a while. Add a glass of orange juice and it was a perfect meal. The turkey bacon was shared with Tad so he would consume his dog food. Tad does not know he is a dog so we have to trick him with quality human food so that he consumes the food meant for his species. He finds all the bacon and leaves the dog food giving me the look that says "You expect me to eat that?" Well, good enough. He ate most of it. He is a thin dog and we work at getting him to eat enough. Dry food is usually always available. We promised him walk but wanted him to digest a bit beforehand. 

Our Harvest Host is a blueberry farm and has a gift shop. Kasey did not have to twist my arm to amble over there. We sampled some wines and jam leaving with some quality products for later consumption.

Then came time for the walk where Tad could stretch his legs. The gravel road nearby leads to a waterfall. We didn't make the trek but there was a little traffic headed that way. A sedan slowed down before the turn to the falls. The one on the passenger side rolled his window down. There were 2 young guys, probably originally from India, excitedly asking about the falls and if it cost to see it. We pointed to the next turn and said that we had not been there but it appears to be free to visit. A hearty thank you and all smiles as they drive away. In the US, I would be worried that they would be hassled by ICE, but we are in Canada. What a great thing to be free of that fear. Free to just go about your business and not a care in the world. We continued our walk to where Tad could be off leash. A successful walk is measured by the amount of tongue hanging out of the canine's mouth. 

Returning to the motorhome, the farmers are plowing nearby as the 3 of us get ready to load up. Rolling east out of Wawa, fog threatened to block the view, but we couldn't miss the town's iconic giant goose. It was planted at the highway intersection specifically to catch the eye of passing travelers and keep Wawa on the map after the new bypass threatened to leave it behind.

Travelling in a different country sometimes brings driving challenges. But in Canada there are many similarities, for example they drive on the same side of the road as the US, use English as the primary language and have many of the same products and franchise services. Road signs are almost all universal.

There are some differences that are enough to remind you that you are not travelling at home anymore. I started noticing these green/white diamonds along the highway and quickly realized they were always associated with highway barriers. Apparently, they are only used in Ontario and used to alert snow plow drivers to the start and end of roadside barriers and other items so they can lift their plow. The order of the white/green or green/white matters. Green on top is the start of the barrier and a sign to lift the plow. White/green is the end of the barrier signifying it is safe to lower the plow.

Other signs are curious as well. Canada has signs in both English and French. Moose are a thing here too.

Some signs need no explanation.

Fall colors started to turn from mostly yellows to oranges and reds as we headed east as did the vegetation. Where we started with conifer trees short in height and branch length, we finished with mostly hardwood, deciduous vegetation.

Kasey was continually wowed and the scenery did not disappoint.

We arrived at our next Harvest Host site, Clayton Farms, just west of Espanola, ON. We positioned ourselves behind a shipping container to block the highway noise, notified the owner that we arrived, and asked to be able to walk the dog. They have to put up their guard dog so we waited for the go ahead. It was fairly wet from the recent rain and the trail was slippery in places. Lots of fall colors here too. I can't help but take pictures for my iNaturalist entries. 

At the end of the walk was a nice peaceful looking pond. There are so many lakes and ponds that we saw today. Here are a couple.

We returned to our motorhome to find the owner and his neighbor working on moving the shipping container next to our camping spot to a place up the hill. There goes our sound barrier. Oh, well. Traffic died down quite a bit.

We had chicken soup for dinner and played a few games of Rummikub. At some point in the last 24 hours, I managed to pull a muscle in my arm making it very painful to lift my right arm or turn it a certain way. There is a lot of reaching and stretching on this trip. Dropping my phone by my feet, reaching for shoes on the lower step, reaching to turn a light on all the way across the bed or trying to make the outhouse door stay shut when the wind blows it open. I pop an Advil in order to get some sleep. I don't take many medications but there is better living through chemistry.

Day 27: Tuesday: Thunder Bay to Wawa 300 Miles 5.5 Hours

Day 27 – Tuesday: Thunder Bay to Wawa

300 Miles – 5.5 Hours

Oh Canada!

I woke up around 6 and took Tad outside for his morning rituals. I was perfectly comfortable in shorts and a T-shirt as we walked quietly along the nearby road. The morning was peaceful and still, and Tad and I wandered along together while the rest of the world seemed to be sleeping.

When we returned to the motorhome, I crawled back into bed next to Janice.

She mumbled something that I interpreted as, “Tank u for taking out...” before falling asleep with her head on my shoulder.

I was wide awake, but I didn’t want to disturb her slumber, so I just lay there quietly and enjoyed the moment.

Eventually, I drifted back to sleep myself.

Then the dreams began.

They were wild dreams incorporating pieces of the book we’ve been listening to along with little vignettes from the past several days. Somehow my sleeping brain stitched everything together into its own bizarre nighttime production.

I slept soundly until 9 a.m.—something I almost never do.

Then I remembered: we’re on Eastern Time now.

Still, that was pretty darn late for me.

We eventually packed everything up and headed to a Starbucks in Thunder Bay. One of the things we immediately noticed was the wonderful diversity among the people there and the very calm, peaceful atmosphere.

It simply felt good to be in Canada.

Later, as we drove out of Thunder Bay listening to a local radio station, they aired a public-service announcement promoting community diversity and upcoming multicultural events.

Janice was studying the map and suddenly exclaimed:

“We could stay here a week!”

And I think we probably could have.

Our original plan was to head toward Hearst, about five and a half hours away. But one of the wonderful things about traveling the way we do is that plans are merely suggestions.

On the outskirts of Thunder Bay, we stopped at the Terry Fox Visitor Centre. After talking with a very helpful attendant named Connie, we changed our plans entirely. Instead of heading toward Hearst, we would take the more scenic route east to Wawa, keeping us closer to Lake Superior.

It proved to be a very good decision.

But before leaving, we spent some time learning more about the remarkable young man for whom the visitor centre is named.

Terry Fox and the Marathon of Hope

Terry Fox was only 18 when he was diagnosed with osteogenic sarcoma, a form of bone cancer, in his right leg. His leg was amputated above the knee. While undergoing treatment, Terry was deeply affected by the suffering he witnessed among other cancer patients, including children.

He decided to do something almost unimaginable.

On April 12, 1980, Terry dipped his artificial leg into the Atlantic Ocean near St. John’s, Newfoundland, and began running west across Canada. He called his journey the Marathon of Hope, and his goal was to raise money and awareness for cancer research.

For 143 days, running with a prosthetic leg, Terry averaged roughly a marathon every day.

He covered 5,373 kilometres—3,339 miles.

And then, just outside Thunder Bay on September 1, 1980, Terry began experiencing severe chest pain. Tests revealed that his cancer had spread to his lungs.

His Marathon of Hope ended here.

Terry died the following June at just 22 years old, but his run never really ended. The Terry Fox Run that grew from his dream has continued around the world, and the Terry Fox Foundation reports that more than $1 billion has now been raised for cancer research in his name.

There was one other detail that struck me personally.

Terry Fox was born in 1958—the same year I was born, just a little less than six months after me.

Standing there at 68 years old, looking out across this beautiful landscape and thinking about a young man who never had the opportunity to grow old, gave his story an added poignancy for me.

Then we climbed back into the motorhome and headed east.

Along the Shores of Lake Superior

The journey from Thunder Bay to Wawa was astounding.

The fall colors were becoming increasingly vibrant. Brilliant yellows, oranges and reds covered the hillsides while magnificent views of Lake Superior periodically opened before us. Smaller lakes appeared between the trees. Great walls and outcroppings of exposed rock lined the highway.

Around every bend seemed to be another reason to slow down and look.

And those rocks tell an extraordinary story.

About 1.1 billion years ago, the middle of the North American continent began pulling apart along what geologists now call the Midcontinent Rift. Enormous quantities of molten rock poured through fractures in the Earth's crust, producing vast layers of dark volcanic basalt around what would eventually become Lake Superior. The rifting ultimately stopped before the continent completely split apart, leaving behind an enormous geological scar. Much later, glaciers repeatedly moved across the region, excavating and reshaping the ancient basin. When the ice finally retreated, meltwater helped fill the immense depression that became the Lake Superior we see today.

So as we drove past those towering rock faces and looked out over Lake Superior, we weren't simply seeing beautiful scenery.

We were looking at a landscape shaped by more than a billion years of Earth's history.

It was magnificent.

Eventually we reached Wawa and our Harvest Host for the night, Algoma Highlands Wild Blueberry Farm.

We pulled in around 5:30, after the gift shop had closed, found our camping spot and settled in for the evening.

After spending much of the day riding in the motorhome, Tad was more than ready for an adventure of his own.

We took him on about a 30-minute hike where he could run off leash.

He was ecstatic.

He raced joyfully along the trail, darting from one interesting smell to another, exploring everything as though this entire corner of Ontario had been created specifically for his enjoyment.

Watching Tad run free is one of those simple pleasures that never gets old.

Back at the motorhome, we mapped out Wednesday’s destination—another Harvest Host about five and a half hours farther down the road.

We really enjoy staying at Harvest Hosts. Besides making travel wonderfully easy, they give us an opportunity to experience places and communities we might otherwise simply drive past. We can pull in late in the afternoon, explore a little, spend the night and get back on the road the next morning.

For travelers like us, it works beautifully.

We finished the evening with dinner and a couple games of Rummikub.

Then, after one final trip outside for Tad, the three weary travelers collapsed into bed.

It had begun with a quiet morning walk in Thunder Bay and Janice sleeping on my shoulder.

It ended at a blueberry farm in Wawa.

In between were Terry Fox, a billion years of geological history, spectacular fall colors, Lake Superior and yet another reminder of why we love traveling without being too firmly attached to a plan.

Sometimes the best road is simply the one you hadn't planned on taking.

Oh Canada!

Day 26: Sept 28, 2026. Canada! Here we come.

It was time to say goodbye to Minnesota and the spot we camped for a week at Lynn's house. It is always sad to part but we must keep moving. I got up and prepared my comments for the proposed roadless rule rescission and got them uploaded before we went to say our goodbyes. (You, too, can make comments. It is very simple. Go to https://morethanjustparks.com/roadless-rule/ and click on comment. A series of questions with multiple choice are presented. Easy.) Before turning the front yard back over to Lynn, we returned her car keys which she graciously loaned us for the week so that we could travel to all the family gatherings. It is a nice car. A 2020 Toyota RAV 4 hybrid. It has all the newer technology and dutifully warns you when you are drifting out of your lane. 

We made a stop at the hardware store in Pine City because I like this place. The have all kinds of stuff.

And they had some good magnets worth purchasing 

This was in the window and captures a chaotic hunting family. I thought it was humorous.

Less than an hour into our trip, the fog in Pine City gave way to a bright, sunny day. We detoured into Moose Lake to fill up our propane tank—we needed it, taking on six gallons. It’s comforting to know we’re heading out with a full tank.

We tootled down the road enjoying the fall colors just starting to turn as we made our way north to Thunder Bay, ON Canada. The motorhome doesn't have the fancy technology the RAV4 has so I substituted my own voice whenever Kasey drifted out of his lane. I had to give that up because I would not have been able to get any reading done 

After Duluth, we started to see the lake. The clouds made each picture different.

Our route took us along the north shore of Lake Superior. The native Americans called the lake Gitchie-Gami or Great Lake. We passed the time by reading and playing music. It is a pretty drive and passes through many small tourist towns. It was a bright and sunny day. Even though it was a Monday, there was plenty of people enjoying the weather and the beautiful scenery.

We stopped along the way for a break and Tad and I walked around. A disgusting looking blob was on the ground and I said to myself "What is that?" I suspected it was a fungus of some type but had to be sure and so I touched it lightly to confirm its gelatinous feel before instinctively retracting my hand. Mental note to wash hands before continuing the journey. 

We made are destination in good time but lost an hour as we moved into the Eastern time zone. Our border crossing was uneventful but the attendant informed me that I needed to sign my passport. We have been to and from Mexico with that passport and no one mentioned it.

Our camping spot is at the Loch Lomond Ski Area. It isn't operating of course, but still available for Harvest Host guests. I saw a few bicyclers and hikers so I believe it is still available for recreation. We had the parking area to ourselves.

I took Tad for a walk while Kasey cooked some chile. Since this is a new area, Tad quickly discovered the local flora hitchhikers: the Devil's Beggarticks. These things stick easily to clothes too, so we both brought them back to camp. I spent almost an hour working to get these little bastards out of his fur.

With dinner ready, I decided it was time to stop torturing the dog and give him a break. He was eager to find a spot away from me and my busy comb.

An excellent and filling dinner was served by a most friendly chef. This establishment really serves some delicious food at a very inexpensive price. After dinner, we played a game of cribbage as the sun disappeared for the day. Another Harvest Host guest quietly arrived and set up near us. I guess we are not the only ones here after all 

We are far north yet the night is still a comfortable temperature. 

We are not sure where we will be tomorrow. It is not the destination that matters, but the journey.

Day 25: Sunday, 9/27 Perfect Timing

Today was our last full day in Minnesota, and the morning began with a lot of clouds. and, for me, a fair amount of trepidation about how to make the most of these final precious hours with my family.

Once again, I woke in the wee hours of the morning thinking about our plans for the day.

Ash and the family were facing a two-hour drive each way to meet Nick, Lys and the kids and us for our planned adventure. I was concerned about her making yet another long trip north and trying to coordinate everything with seven kids and Orion. I texted her and told her not to feel any pressure to come. We would completely understand if they couldn't make it.

We were up before 7 after Tad announced that morning had officially commenced. I spent more than two hours updating the blog while Janice worked on her computer.

Then Nick texted.

He and the kids were up, and Alice really wanted to go to Stillwater. He also told us that the folks who own an Airbnb cabin that Lys regularly cleans had generously offered to let them use the cabin that evening. We could have dinner there and finish our last night together around a campfire.

Nick texted Ash, and she said that Orion and at least some of the kids would meet us in Stillwater around 1 p.m.

Suddenly, it all seemed perfect.

We jumped into my sister Lynn's car and headed out. Lynn has always been incredibly gracious to us. Not only can we boondock at her house, she loans us her car so we don't have to take the motorhome on all of our adventures with the kids and grandkids.

She is an angel.

Janice wanted to get her hair cut, so we stopped in Pine City. While she was getting her haircut, I filled the car with gas and made a quick trip to the store. By the time I finished, Janice came out and we were ready to roll.

We arrived in Stillwater around 1:30. Nick, Lys and the kids had already spent about 45 minutes at Teddy Bear Park and were eating the lunch they had brought. Ash, Orion and their crew had just arrived and were getting their lunches out, too. Odin and Ike had decided to stay home because they needed some downtime, and I was actually relieved that they felt comfortable doing that rather than feeling pressured to come.

Everyone could simply do what was right for them.

I had promised ice cream, so after lunch our entourage headed down toward the St. Croix River.

Stillwater is a beautiful old river town, and our parade of 14 people walked and talked our way toward the ice cream shop.

We stopped at Minnesota Nice Cream. Two teenage boys were working behind the counter, and with our group it took a while for everyone to study the choices, change their minds and finally decide what they wanted. Watching everybody enjoy their treats was half the fun.

Even Tad got a little pup cup.

Afterward, we walked across the historic lift bridge and crossed the St. Croix into Wisconsin. Fortunately, despite my purple-sleeved Oregon Norsemen shirt, I was neither accosted nor publicly shunned by any cheeseheads while on Wisconsin soil.

The younger kids did remarkably well on the long walk, and after crossing back into Minnesota, we finished our Stillwater expedition with a trip to a park high on the bluff overlooking the town and river.

The view was spectacular.

The first fall colors were beginning to show across the landscape, hints of what was still to come after we headed east.

The younger kids discovered the merry-go-round, and that became the main attraction. Nick, Janice and I took turns pushing them around and around as they laughed with pure, unrestrained glee.

Eventually, though, the afternoon began slipping away.

It was time for Ash, Orion and the kids to make the long drive home. We hugged everyone and told them how grateful we were for all the time they had made for us during our weeks in Minnesota.

Then we watched them go.

Nick said he would pick up Papa Murphy's pizza for dinner at the cabin, while Janice and I headed back to the motorhome to gather some firewood.

The cabin on Pokegama Lake is about halfway between Lynn's house and Nick and Alyssa's home, making it the perfect gathering place for one last evening together.

When we arrived, the pizza had just gone into the oven.

And the sun was setting over the lake.

Perfect timing.

The golden light reflecting across the water was breathtaking. After a day that had begun beneath gloomy clouds and drizzle, Minnesota seemed determined to give us one final gift.

Janice and I unloaded the firewood and arranged our chairs outside, and then we all went into the cozy cabin for pizza.

After dinner, we gathered around the campfire.

All three kids seemed completely immersed in the experience, the fire, the lake, the darkness settling around us and, most importantly, our time together.

There wasn't anywhere else we needed to be.

There wasn't anything else we needed to accomplish.

We were simply together.

And then, all too soon, it was time to go.

Alice, our eight-year-old granddaughter, was very sad that we were leaving Minnesota.

"Why do you have to live so far away?"

That about broke our hearts.

There really isn't a good answer to a question like that.

We hugged everyone one more time and stood there watching as they pulled away. Then we followed them down the dirt road toward home.

Above the fields, a nearly full moon was rising into the night sky. Wisps of fog began gathering in the low places, drifting across the landscape as we drove.

I thought about how the day had begun, with gloomy clouds, drizzle and me lying awake worrying about how we were going to make everything work.

And somehow, everything simply fell into place.

Fourteen of us gathered in Stillwater. We ate ice cream along the St. Croix, walked all the way to Wisconsin and back, watched children spin around a merry-go-round, shared pizza in a little cabin beside a lake, watched a golden Minnesota sunset and finished our last evening together around a campfire.

Perfect timing.

But what meant the most to me was watching my son and daughter work together to make our final day with them on this trip so memorable. Everyone had busy lives, children to coordinate, miles to drive and plenty of reasons why getting everyone together could have been difficult.

Yet they made it happen.

Tomorrow, the Chariot of the Dogs rolls east and the Grand Adventure continues.

Tonight, though, as that moon rose above the Minnesota fields and the fog gathered beneath it, my heart was full.

Some days don't need to be carefully choreographed.

Sometimes you just give them room to unfold.

And every once in a while, everything arrives at exactly the right moment.

Perfect timing.