1992, Saturday night. I am sleeping in the van. I am in a campground somewhere in Vilas county in northern Wisconsin. I've had nothing to eat except two or three very tiny miniscule crawfish we caught in the lake, and some rice. I am starving. I am hoping there aren't any campground weirdos. It is cold. It is uncomfortable. I don't want to do this again. The next night, we're getting a motel and a good restaurant.

1992, Sunday night. We've travelled from northern Wisconsin through Duluth and now we're heading up Minnesota's north eastern coast. There is no place to stay except a motel with red iron-stained water, and no place to eat except a Dairy Queen. We get some fries that are unbearably salty, so we feed them to some gulls in a parking lot. the next night, we're getting a motel with clean water and a good restaurant.

1992, Monday night. We're in Thunder Bay, Ontario. We have a better motel, but for the life of me, I can't remember what we ate for dinner.

Labels: Vacation