Road Trips: Kejimkujik National Park and Historic Site

We bought a van and we did so for one reason: camping. Our first test would be at Jeremy's Bay Campground. Kejimkujik National park had many sites to choose from usually but because people were spending their hard earned money in Canada (boycotting America) we only had a few spots available.

The van had stow n go seats so it gave us enough room for a couple roll out mattresses. Setting up camp was pretty simple a dinning tent a couple of chairs and a fire. 

Luckily for us we were there a week before the fire ban. Things were great until it was time to sleep. There was a crying kid a few sites away who was always in trouble for something. His crying continued into the wee hours of the morning. I finally locked the doors and fell asleep. Then it was tinkle time. As I opened the door the ani-theft alarm started to blare and I couldn't turn the darn thing off. After a few minutes of frustration and yes, cussing, I got it to stop not before waking up the entire camp.  

I try to walk everyday so we looked for a couple trails. We had asked the camp office what trails to hike. It was narrowed down to two. They were countless others but these two in particular we decided on. The first was a trail that started just outside the camp office dubbed, Mills Falls Trail. It was a pretty easy trek than ran beside a flowing stream. The trail was inhabited with children and parents making their way to wade in the eddy's. I tried to get them out of photo shot as best I could. Eventually we turned around and on the way back I notice a familiar thing. If you didn't already know, bugs and I don't see eye to eye. There was a buzz around my head. They must have got the heads up from the deer flies from Wassi lodge in Ontario. I survived it and we off to better things. 

Day two of hiking with bugs and I don't mean bunny was a trail call the Hemlocks and Hardwoods.  It seemed intriguing to me. We were promised a boardwalk along the way. How long along the way we would find out. After a short distance we picked up a couple of friends. The bugs were back. We never invited them, they just kind of showed up. I quickly found out that if my pace was fast enough, they'd leave me alone. Behind me my partner wasn't having as much luck. This was suppose to be a shared experience. It was but I wasn't going to share my blood. Then we saw it, the boardwalk. I keep saying it was just around the corner finally it was just around the corner and so to was a three hundred year old tree. I found out an interesting thing. Hemlocks can grow in the strangest places, even over a rock. I found something else out. The longer you stay in one place the easier it is for bugs to find you.

I waited for him to catch up we both gazed up and I was off again and so were the bugs. It was at this time I noticed my partner wasn't having a good time. The bug were but he wasn't. I apologized for the rudeness and explained that he knew about the bug thing. I can't help it, he couldn't walk as fast as me. I would soon find out that he could but that's another story. 

The park was our hub for few days. Our home while we discovery more Nova Scotia treasures. I will leave you with my favorite picture. More #ontheroadwithdennyd Road Trip stories to come.

The call

 High school was in the rear view mirror of life. I was looking toward the future. There where a few bugs splattered to the windshield but I could see enough to get down the road. The journey was a painfully one, mentally and physically but I learned to grow while growing. That's the way it usually works. I had grown a foot in a little over a year. Puberty was delayed and the embarrassment of being a hairless adult made it hard for me to be intimate with anyone. I didn't know what urges where until the hormones kicked in. Still I loathed my hairless body. Today I am a sixty-six year old walking sasquatch.  Be careful what you wish for, I guess. Having no desire to fornicate, I decided to investigate a celibate life.  Every catholic family had at least one child destined for secular or religious life.  That child was me. 

My spiritual advisor and local priest Father Janise, help me with my spiritual journey. A journey that took me to Saint Peter's Seminary in London Ontario. They called it a come and see weekend. I meet some seminarians. Some of whom are now priests in my diocese. The tour started with a walk through of the seminary and I even got a chance to sit in on philosophy class at Kings College next door. All in all it was an interesting weekend but I didn't enjoy the interview at the end. The one question I didn't expect came out of left field. It wasn't like I was signing up that day. Why ask such a question. Are you a homosexual? My response was no. I was confused by the whole thing since finding out my Godfather was gay when they out-ed him in a Toronto paper. Of course when I was a young teenager I believed he was going to go to hell. I know better today. He was the nicest person you'd ever meet and he died way to young. Every time he came to town was celebration not because he brought us desert (which he often did) but because he brought his love.  I missed him so and you could say I have a deeper understanding for what he must of went through.  I left the seminary weekend with mixed feelings and I still wasn't sure what Gods plan was for me. 

In the meantime I joined a singing group known as, Faith Unlimited. We travelled around the county and played nursing homes, singing and dancing. I played guitar both in the group and in our church folk choir. I would receive more offers in the mail from various religious organizations. From Basilian to Redemptorists.  These magazines would pile up on my nightstand waiting for me to browse through. Frankly, it just made me more confused. I would often go back to the steps of grade school and look at the church across the street and wait for God to talk to me. You know listen to the whispers so to speak.

While I waited I befriended a girl in the group. I'll call her the girl in a hat because she worn one all the time. Apparently, she like hats a lot or maybe she was a fan of ACDC. Soon I was wearing hat, more like a cap. I couldn't rock it like Brain Johnson but I thought I was cool. That is until some other guy who had a cap just like me came around. I got dump at McDonalds. Funny how you remember things. I guess he wore it better than I did. So I did what I always did. I went to my room to write. This time it was a sad song but I got over her. I had other things on my mind. Higher education. 

Life after the lane

I'm finishing up some edits on my first book. "Life on the lane" might be a working title. The story about small boy who finally grows up and the potholed one lane where it all started. 

Now that I have grown up I have more stories to tell and more roads to talk about. I want to thank you all for liking my blog posts. You are my inspiration. I plan to share a new story weekly and some sidebars along the way including pictures from my travels, my morning meditation thoughts and maybe song or two.

Thanks for traveling...

#OnTheRoadWithDennyD