In which Moominmama finds Lake Superior to be superior indeed, as she wends her way around its shores to get to the Stratford Shakespeare Festival...

Moominmama left Winnipeg to cross into the Province of Ontario, a transition immediately apparent by the sudden return of rocky outcroppings along the highway. I never realized how much I missed rocks until they became part of my landscape once more.

Parked at Kakabeka Falls State Park (pictured above), I ventured down to Thunder Bay to hike the Sleeping Giant, a wonderful park on Lake Superior's shoreline with several paths up its reclining anatomy. I chose a steep but shorter trail to the Giant's head. This involved a pleasant up and down trail to a bay on the lake where I ate lunch and then followed the signs to the outhouse -- emphasis on the "out."

Fortunately I was alone! From there, the trail got very, very steep. I was using roots, trees and rocks to pull myself up, working up quite a lather. Longest mile I've hiked in a long time!

But the view from the top was worth it. I am used to great lakes, after all I grew up near Lake Ontario. But this is a great lake on a whole 'nother scale, and fascinating because, at least where I was at, it's dotted with islands. 

Wind conditions meant there was little hope of using my kayak, and the distance between the shore and any one island was probably greater than it looked.

After soaking in the view from the Giant's head, I looked to see if it was possible to navigate down his neck to pick up a trail that would be less steep from his torso.

But the neck is a cliff-demarcated valley. This meant backing down the way I came. And as anyone over the age of 50 knows, down can be harder than up when it comes to hiking. I was relieved to make it to the bottom and promptly hopped into the bay with my (sweaty, but quick-drying) clothes on.

I had one other shot at swimming in Lake Superior and that was an overnight at Pancake Bay as I made the trek east to London, Ontario where the Moominhouse would get its annual once-over. 

I had vastly underestimated the mileage involved so had only the one night on Pancake Bay. But I had the world's most perfect campsite, right by the water. I even had my own wooded path to the beach!

I took full advantage to swim and enjoyed falling asleep to crashing waves on the shore. The next day's drive took me briefly back into the U.S at Sault Ste. Marie with a long drive through Michigan to re-enter Canada at Port Huron. From there, I made it to London, where I camped overnight in the parking lot at Cam-Am RV.

My trailer got the attention it needed. The wheel bearings were repacked; the propane furnace was cleaned; brakes, tires and other systems all checked. At the end of the day, I traveled to my next stop not far from Stratford.

I've been going to see plays at the Stratford Shakespeare Festival since I was a youngster. My parents loved the theater and when I developed a similar interest, I was allowed to tag along. Years later, my father took both me and my kids to see productions. Theater is one of those things that connects me most deeply to my Dad, who died before the pandemic. 

This was the first time I came without him, and I did get choked up on occasion. There were things I know we would have talked about, would have enjoyed together. But I'm grateful for the love of theater that he cultivated in me. 

Above is the Festival Stage, one of four stages operating during the season. Inside, the stage borrows from the Globe theater so it's a thrust stage, which is thrilling for a kid because it brings the actors so much closer to the audience. But before the Festival stage could be built, it all started in a tent (and with Tyrone Guthrie as its first artistic director.) 

Stratford pays homage to this early beginning with a sculpture on the lawn, with life-size statues pulling up the center tent pole as a young girl looks on from the risers. As a kid, being able to walk through and touch all of this felt vaguely illicit and therefor exciting.

I saw Richard III and the non-Shakespeare but nonetheless classic play by Wole Soyinka: Death and the King's Horseman. Would have loved to talk about that with my Dad!

Stratford was the last stop on my journey across Canada. The Maritimes will have to wait for another day! I returned to Rochester, NY and put in five weeks of work to help pay for the next adventure!

I am near the Smoky Mountains as I write, the final adventure of my 2022 season before the Moominhouse goes into storage. More on that in the final 2022 blog post coming soon. Hope to be back up north to do some skiing shortly! But I leave you with a photo of my campsite at the Nith River Campground near Stratford, where the fish pond had a fountain that reflected nicely in the Moominhouse portal window!