Ontario Trip- to the Lady Evelyn river systemAugust 1995
​These notes were written while on our trip. The notes are recorded as written with any insights or additions in the final summary. Unless otherwise indicated, the notes were written by Hilton Moore, but the thoughts and sentiments were absolutely shared by his faithful partner in this expedition, Amy Fletemier.
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August 12: Saturday: Gamble Lake. Landed by plane, set up camp - no fish, set minnow trap - fire - lake water was warm - set food in canoe for night.
August 13: Sunday: Amy’s birthday - fog on lake - took dip - no minnows - took down camp at Gamble Lake, proceeded downstream, at a point noted on topo map we caught nice perch (3). We then proceeded downriver and caught 8 more nice perch in swamp just past bridge. At junction of river saw couple, then 3 more canoes where we camped. Set up camp just beyond junction of river. Moose tracks on banks. Saw mink and muskrat. Amy and I fileted perch. Had sauteed perch and seasoned rice for dinner. Nice weather. Set out minnow-trap - many minnows there.
Trip Note:
Gamble Lake too warm for trout, lots of perch just down from Chance Lake. Do not take child proof lighters. Don’t use Coleman mantles for lantern and bring enough. Don’t buy thin fishing line. It tangles too easily. Small rubber worm worked great for perch. Don’t take army rations. Too heavy.
August 14: Monday: Got up early - took down camp. Let out minnows. Lined down rapids. One mile through marsh, difficulty in finding Portage Site B, -440 meter portage taken because it avoided other rapids - difficult portage through rough rocks. Camped along portage on hill, caught one perch. Explored unnamed lake, small like marsh now. It is the evening now, drizzling, having tea and soon a sip of brandy before bed. No need for suntan lotion on this trip yet. Still no trout just perch, saw no people today. Having food in separate bag very handy for portaging purposes. Dynamo bottle for water works great.
August 15: Tuesday: Did the 5 portages to get us to McPherson Lake. First portage short but very rough over boulders. 2-3-4- portages not bad, 5 a little rough. Most beautiful campsite so far overlooking falls on lake. Lots of beautiful cliffs behind campsite. Caught no fish. Chubs in minnow trap. Land has been burned over to this point. Hope fishing gets better. Sat by fire at night, beautiful weather. Loons, muskrats. Amy got many blueberries and made delicious blueberry bannock for dinner. Need to get berry identification information for next trip because have seen many berries we can’t identify. Plastic bottle got leak and fixed with duct tape. Ibuprofen still very necessary - much pain in shoulder and chest area from work accident. Had salami with blueberry bannock for dinner. Took bath for first time in McPherson just below falls. Only need a tiny bit of hair conditioner for trip. We are not using soap for dishes, only using for body and clothes so we could take a lot less next time in small plastic bottles.
Trip notes: Don’t take plastic jelly containers. They squish out. However mustard and catsup packets are great. Don’t take powdered milk next time. Bannock recipe from Hap Wilson’s book is great. Foam bed is shitty, soaks up water. Next time inflatable mattresses. Boots too heavy, take only one pair next time. Brandy is great on trip, 20 fluid ounce root beer plastic bottles work. Jackets take up a lot of bulk. We brought jean jackets. Consider other light weight alternatives that take less bulk and weigh less. Trail bread excellent but too heavy. Take more homemade baked granola because it is lighter.
Trip note:
(Amy writing) We need to reduce our weight. Suggestion: lightweight or no axe. No army rations. Use dried meat and no salami. Come up with lightweight shoes. No foam, unless air mattress. Fabric minnow trap. Less hair conditioner, just braid hair.
August 16: Wednesday: Got up, blueberry oatmeal for breakfast, most excellent. Left shortly after ten and made camp shortly after six. 4 portages (3 runs and 1 portage) got to Kathryn Lake, 2 couples camped across point from us and YMCA boys at far end of lake, these are the first people we have seen for 3 days - unfortunately solitude has been interrupted. Dinner was a combination of army ration and cous-cous, very good, Amy scores again. My eyes hurt very, very much yesterday morning, sunburned because of previous welding experience. Had to cover eyes with bandana and Amy took over steering. Lasted about 2 hours until it got hazy, Then I could see again but eyes are still really sensitive. Saw several loon and babies yesterday, also beaver, still no moose and no bear although have found bear scat on portage trail.
Trip notes: Found out pan with leftover cous-cous in it weighted down with rock in the water made an effective minnow trap. Will try this again. Don’t ever want to haul metal minnow trap again.
August 17: Thursday: Got up, had no breakfast - not Amy’s idea. As we were taking off plane landed with couple. Trip note: double-bag everything. Couples names were Eric and Ellen who scooted ahead of us on the river system. First set of rapids we lined, second set we portaged. Visited with Eric and Ellen and saw Hap Wilson’s cabin. Hap is known as writer of book about Temagami canoe routes. Eric informed us of fire ban in area due to high heat and no rain. They decided to stay at Hap’s cabin. We pushed on to Bridal Veil Falls. Difficult portage last 300 feet had to belay canoe down slope. Camped midpoint on portage. Had beans and potatoes for dinner - yum! Hung food over cliffs and bag ripped. Lost some parmesan cheese. It was another beautiful day - eyes much better. Amy put ointment in them. Ribs still hurt but not as bad. Used propane lantern for first time. We decided we do need 2 propane bottles because of fire danger and rain. Bridal Veil Falls is beautiful but no fish. My blue jean shorts are ripped now. Looks almost indecent but who cares.
August 18: Friday: Friday morning. Amy’s grandmother’s birthday. We are camped on Bridal Veil portage trail. Making notes. Amy kind of had breakfast because I was anxious to get started. I
tried fishing in the morning but got nothing. We slid and belayed packs down slope, and unfortunately left ropes behind - OOPS! Lucky we had enough ropes to finish trip. Next 950 yard portage then Far Man portage then 2 runs to track. Lining is using one rope to control canoe going downstream. Tracking uses two ropes, on tied to bow and one to stern to steer through rapids. Managed to catch beautiful bass as we were getting out of river system. Many bass but few takers. Food bag completely ripped now. Set up camp at old logging camp dock. Put food out in canoe for night. Fried bass with cornmeal and spice and had rice with basil and dehydrated butter flakes in it. It was a delicious dinner. No fire because of fire rules. Still no rain, hot weather, jean cutoffs shredded and unusable. Used jack knife to make new shorts from tan pants. Need shorts more than pants this trip. Sipped brandy till dark. Both Amy and I were fatigued at this point, tempers are short, she says mine is, but I say hers is. Lost expensive lure today.
Trip notes:
(Amy writing) We lost ropes (both of them) after belaying the packs down. We inadvertently left them there. Now we have no way of tying food up. Floated out the canoe last night with food bag. Works well but no one likes to swim near dark back to shore. Other dumb thing I did was to put the lantern after we used it under the blue tarp. Woke up to find hole in tarp - lantern had melted through. We ate 16 inch bass for dinner. Was delicious and better than our usual out of Fletcher’s Pond, near Alpena Michigan. I have still yet to catch a big fish. Packs beginning to get lighter. Should leave axe and boots home next time. It was another scorcher today. Has been one of the hottest summers in Ontario for a number of years.
August 19: Saturday: Woke up had breakfast of oatmeal with cinnamon and raisins. Very good. Moved camp a football field from previous spot to a more desirable and aesthetic area than old logging camp. Extremely hot. Took several dips and fished all afternoon with success. Several missed strikes in morning. Swam at point down the lake and must have punctured bottom of canoe - on the way back Amy had to bail while I rowed against strong headwinds. Very fatigued by the time we got back. Fixed canoe with silicon and had dinner of army meat patties which were excellent. Amy had a vegetable pattie, which was a gift and not her idea, and it was not terribly good. Also had popcorn and tried to use cous-cous in minnow trap with no success. Put oatmeal in minnow trap too but no minnows. Slept lousy (both of us), camp site where tent was was sloped. Put food up on cliff away from bears. No one in sight, beautiful sunset and extremely hot. Amy got stung by a bee when she and I went to crap.
Trip notes: Do not need to take towel and washcloth. Next time will take a pair of pants with removable legs which will make shorts if needed, much less weight. Buy the thickest Zip Lock baggies on the market and double bag them.
August 20: Sunday: Got up, had coffee and tea and went fishing. Got up early because of bad night of sleep. Amy caught a small bass, small pike, and lost a nice bass. I got nothing. We went back to camp and Amy fileted the pike - great breakfast. Couple came down the channel just as we were about to bathe, saw them later also. They were from Manhattan and he was working at a camp up here. We canoed from the south channel of Lady Evelyn River system to Willow
Island Lake. On the way got a 24’’ pike which we devoured at dinner time. Made our own campsite on a small island. Fished in evening, no luck. Beautiful place to swim, sandy shore.
Trip notes: We need to check to see if stove leaks when we connect to bottle, and remove stove from bottle when finished.
August 21: Monday: (Amy writing) We are leftover fish for breakfast and were on our way to portage across 2 fairly flat paths to reach Lady Evelyn Lake. Sunday was quite windy and when paddling we did not pay enough attention to the topography of the lake. Paddling Monday morning it was clear we did not know our location in Willow Island Lake. The result was that we paddled way past our portage to Sucker Gut Lake. Lost about two hours in having to backtrack. The portage was a difficult one to find even if we had known where we were. The portage was located in a swampy area. We learned a good lesson - pay attention to the topography of the lake every moment you are canoeing in it. We are still not certain which island we camped on last night. After first portage we ran into a couple who had worked as guides all summer. They informed us that our outfitter is expensive. Nice to have this thought confirmed.
Trip notes:
(Amy writing) Do not wear tennis shoes with no socks as water foot wear. Both Hilton and I have multiple blisters. At end of portage found 3 socks hanging on tree. Just our luck because our feet needed socks, as our wet gym shoes were hurting our tender feet. NOTE: Always hook the bungy cord securely in the canoe when not in use. Have lost one of them - and necessary to strap paddles in during portages. We have made a couple of observations of canoeing couple. It is very common for the man to carry the canoe solo while woman trails behind with gear. Carrying gear in wooden boxes with a tump line is very popular. Canoe traditionalist couple we met today had 2 wooden boxes and a pack full of gear. They wondered at the little amount of gear we had for such a long trip. We think we still have too much gear.
[Note: Traditional box is called Wannigan in the Algonquin language. We were not traditionalists. Most of our gear came from garage sales.]
Hilton must not have much male pride. He and I carry the canoe together. Find it easier and makes each of us less prone to accidental injury. Found good campsite for the night. Best of campsites - good hearth, latrine trail, rocks to sit on, and flat spot for tent, plus good view of water. Found this place late in the day after lots of paddling. It was about 6:30 when we made camp. I was getting worried because clouds were blowing in, the wind was strong, and the weather was in general spooky. I usually begin worrying anyway, when we do not have a campsite before 5:30 p.m. Windy and have to use the canoe as a wind break for our fire. Had wonderful and much deserved dinner of potatoes au gratin. Parmesan cheese great for camping. Our flashlights are going dead. Need extra batteries for next trip. Leave clothes pins at home - are unnecessary.
August 22: Tuesday: (Amy writing) Today is overcast and we had cinnamon and raisin oatmeal for breakfast. We fished all morning. I was a lazy fisherwoman - let Hilton paddle while I read my
book and yanked the jighead once in awhile. Caught 3 bass in the process, one was very good size 15’’. Hilton had no luck. We came in about mid-afternoon. I read my book and Hilton took a long nap. I sat on a rock shelf that overlooked the water and enjoyed the sun which every once in a while would peak out from behind the clouds. Went fishing again in the evening - no luck.
August 23: Wednesday: (Amy writing) Began packing up camp to move down to Diamond Lake. Had to make a beeline for the tent and wait out some rain. Were on our way in no time with no further hindrance from the weather except the wind against our face as we paddled. Found portage to Diamond Lake and carried boat a few feet over a very tiny fall. Talked with a man named Flynn who had a house boat moored near portage. He was kind enough to give us a contour map of the lake, so we would know where the good fishing was. We decided to take a campsite along the narrows before the water opens out to Diamond Lake. Campsite is across from Indian pictographs. Thought there would be less people around here as Flynn led us to conclude that this is a very popular lake complete with fishing camps. Too many people.
August 24: Thursday: We had planned on staying at campsite for the day fishing but it was too windy so we packed up camp. Cream of wheat for breakfast and last of coffee. Canoed across from campsite and looked at Indian pictographs, interesting, makes one wonder. Much wind today. Set out bottom bouncer for fishing and drifted down lake. Amy navigated us to end of lake where we found portage. Met couple from Toronto going same route. She carried canoe. The first female besides Amy involved in carrying canoe. They had not caught any fish. Had lunch on the old bridge which is now just a derelict. Portaged into Lake Temagami at Sharp rock - drifted down lake - continued to be very windy. Set up camp, water very clear almost eerie, but no fish. Had cous-cous, vegetable burger which was foul by both our standards, then went out fishing. Again no fish. Came in had popcorn and brandy and went to bed. Three or four cabins in sight. Coming back to civilization with much regret.
These notes from our trip, are so much like a river, a memory that will not be forgotten, that flows in the human mind. We were much younger then.
Amy and I are no longer together and have gone our separate ways. I have few regrets. I still retain the memories, and I always will.

Chi: definition: life force or energy force. From Taoism, this word is not compatible with Christian thought as there is no Christ which to most Christians is the only way to God.


Chi also could be thought as the life force that flows through the body and through everything. In Christian thought it might be akin to the Holy Ghost.


While not monolithic among Native American tribes the notion that there is a “Great Spirit” has some similarities to the “Holy Ghost”. In my readings of Native American religion there is “God in all things,” much like Buddhism. I suspect if you (me) wants to start an argument, or in the worse case scenario, a war, I suggest that all these “spirits, ghosts, etc” are one and the same. By the way, there is some similarity to the Japanese Zen, “MAKYO” and Tibetan “NYAM”. I am fairly certain that each group would argue vehemently that they are the only holders of “the truth”.


While personally, I hold onto the belief in “a God” I cringe at how easily some folks can tell you that they (or their families, in-groups, church etc. etc.) are the ONLY holder of their “Ghost” or “God”. Of course, once I have uttered this belief, I open myself to being labeled as a heretic.


In my way of thinking Chi is much like a porcelain bowl, but at the same time not the actual bowl but the inherent potential of the unfulfilled bowl. In contrast to the Western concept of Christianity, most of us can conjure up a picture of Jesus in our heads, mostly a slightly effeminate figure with long brown hair and piercing blue eyes in a dazzling white flowing robe -


No such figure exists within the concept of Chi. Why is all this hair-splitting necessary? Of course in Western thought it becomes crucial as several religions vie for dominance on the world stage. As the Muslim religion strains to make itself a prominent religion pushing Eastward on the planet, all of this push and pull soaks up resources, and in a sense their competing factions bring us in the present world, often not peace but war.


It is my further belief that humans are not born equal, and in fact, never will be, despite what the founding fathers might have wished. The U.S. Constitution is as flawed as mankind is. The Bible (or whatever version of it one uses) argues through Jesus that “the poor will inherit the earth” of course is symbolic rather than factual. What we have here is the split between faith and law.


Of course in Christianity, the ultimate balance between faith and law only becomes manifest after our own death. At best, this notion is a slap-in-the-face to those with the least, and at its worst utter nonsense. But hey, ever since the beginning of Christianity this has been the sleight-of-hand that capitalism uses to disguise the reasons for unjust legal and monetary advantage.


So, as I stated earlier, the notion that men (and women are equal) is a fallacy, always has been, and probably will be as long as humans are on this tired blue ball twirling in space around the sun. One could ask, so is the saint more precious than the sinner? I mean if we must examine the worth of each human, are we to treat them equally as many religions ask?


After all, our concept of equality is definitely a social construct any way you choose to look at it. The slippery slope becomes who, or more relevantly, which religion holds the most political juice and is “in charge” of determining which humans are more worthy. Hitler tried this and we all recognize what a terrible outcome ensued.


Theologians might argue that their brand of “Chi” is superior to others but the historical evidence is dismal, i.e. the Crusades, the Inquisitions, the Salem Witch Trials, and many more, including slavery and more recently racism, male patriarchy, etc.


Should we let the grinding wheel of evolution decide which “holy ghost” evolves? Is mankind the arbitrator? Or, is God the arbitrator? But we have so many Gods on this planet, how is he (she) to decide what is to be saved and what is to be discarded?


Personally, I have never been comforted that one religion was superior to the rest, whatever flavor you choose.


Jesus said something like, “the only way to Heaven is through Me.” That’s a paraphrase but you get the point. I admit that theology goes mostly over my head. I suspect many theologians of different faiths also adamantly insist that their religion “is the way, and perhaps the only way” Do you understand why I am confused?


While some research suggests that the U.S. religious followers are decreasing, it is clear from the past U.S. presidential election that there are still many Christian MAGA fans out there.


I think a fair guess that whatever the course of religious hegemony, the overall trend will be a declining influence of Christianity in this country — and maybe in the world. Unless there is a drastic decline in economics in which case all bets are off.


The long historical reach of Catholicism was arguably due to lots of sex among its adherents, breeding batches of children which added directly to the Vatican’s coffers. I feel some folks reaching for stones to pelt me with, oh well, this is an opinion piece and others are free to view my ramblings otherwise.


Once a religion owns the political and legal framework, the shaping of behavior and thought become a logical conclusion, I believe, that naturally follows.


Please don’t read this as a total condemnation of religion, it’s not. Without religion’s gift to charitable causes, and most importantly, framing human behavior in a positive sense, the world would be perhaps more difficult than it already is. Truly, if God did not exist, there might have been a case for man creating God in his, or her image, and not the other way around.


What about human evolution? Does it follow that as humankind advances, or to some scholar’s way of thinking, moves backward, due to over-exploitation of resources, massive amounts of starving masses, world-wide pollution, global warming, etc. that the human species will devolve. Will the human species continuation demand a mutation that could possibly save the planet, from what looks more and more likely to be the course.


There remains a conundrum, as unfettered capitalism lays bare, will civilization become more and more, a battle between physical giants like Arnie against intellectual monetary giants like Elon Musk? When I say Arnie, you know that I am being facetious, but not, as right-wing strong men seem to be flexing their political muscle all over the planet. Is this the new evolutionary struggle? I would hate to believe that Donald Trump is at the top of the evolutionary ladder, heaven forbid, but we may be headed in that direction.


As the so-called Goldilocks Zone gets smaller and smaller due to human negligence, most any well-read observer knows we are on the knife-edge of oblivion. Despite all the noxious calls for more oil, the drill-baby-drill bullshit only shields the ignorant from the truth. Despite everything I still believe there is a sliver of hope.


Many well-meaning religious souls will tell the gullible that all of this is “God’s work” and salvation will soon be at hand. This religious fatalism is not a cure for disaster, but many believers embrace it.


Back to my original essay. That all men are not created equal. I am neither an evolutionary biologist nor a noted religious scholar, I am just a writer living in the woods, but I recall Nero’s own admission that he fiddled as Rome burned.


I really don’t care who takes the credit for saving the planet from its own death by human hands. Could be a gifted politician, a mystical shaman, or a diesel mechanic with dirt and grime under his or her fingernails. The point is we have a looming catastrophe that requires exceptional leadership to solve. While many folks argue about the powers of the “Holy Ghost” my heretical belief is I care more about whose beer cans are strewn about at my favorite fishing hole. Peace.


Hilton Moore.
​

So here I sit in my skivvies in my northwoods cabin on the edge of the wilderness, and like the proverbial frog from the early 70s, croaking a popular catchy tune in my head. I hope this vagueness avoids some sleazy copywright attorney from trying to squeeze money out of me, which by the way, I don’t have. But, in secret, the name of the frog was Jeremiah.

It’s reasonable to ask what this essay prelude about a frog has to do with the topic at hand, prejudice and city planning. I’ll get to that sooner or later.

Let me say that I believe I was “called” to attend a conference entitled, “Hope for the City” in March of 2024. I didn’t go, mostly due to my aversion to snarling traffic and high-speed maniacs. I suppose this act of defiance on my part to deny my “calling” was a normal response, “Hell God ain’t gonna tell me what to do!”

The way I see it, after God slapped me in the face several years ago when I was a rabid atheist, that I should probably learn to listen better.

The rural north is my home, mostly has been my whole life. Not surprisingly, I have a prejudice against cities and city folk. That’s the truth, and like the old saying goes, no matter how much lipstick you put on a pig, it’s still a pig.

When I was a young kid, I truly believed that we should erect a chainlink fence across the whole state near the city of Clare. For those of you not familiar with the Great State of Michigan, this city is about midway up the mitten, we refer to as the lower peninsula. Clare, ironically, is called the “Gateway to the North.” In my young, naive, and might I add stupid view of the world I thought this would keep out all the riff-raff of “those folks”. Does this sound familiar? If so, I bet you own a red power tie.

I didn’t realize until I was much older that this sentiment was really just “subconscious racism”. I had absorbed an unreasonable fear of people of color. Unfortunately, racism, and xenophobia was not only my personal sin but it exists throughout our culture as well as our geography. While the southern border states seem to be the focus of this particular problem, it is just as rabid here in the north.

As a child, the fence was steel and razor wire, but as I aged, the fence became a metaphor for my own subconscious intolerance, poignantly well hidden, even to myself.

Expanding the metaphor, the fence is now more than allegorical, as miles upon miles of cement and razor wire reify what was once just hidden hatred.

Of course hatred has its own rewards. At the ballot box it garners votes that reinforce its putrid existence. Hate and prejudice become justifiable as a way of curbing “those people” from becoming one of “us”. One could argue about why “they” want to become one of “us” but only a cursory review of the history of US policies in Central and South America will enlighten even the dullest lamps if they truly wish to be lit by those wearing dirty red baseball caps.

I digress. Back to the cities and urban planning. There is no longer just a canary in the cavern, but a bullfrog in a stinking stagnant pond. Whether rural folks, in both the south and the north, will gracefully accept the influx of immigrants, or continues to resist the inevitable is yet to be seen and will play out in policies and politics.

Will the influx remain in squalid conditions in burgeoning cities with reduced resources, i.e. housing, pollution, climate change, infrastructure, water, increasing poverty, low wages, and the list goes on, or will many despite racism and intolerance flee to the country? That course remains to be seen.

Where does city planning play into this polluted pond? If humans do not provide a hospitable and pleasant existence for marginalized folks there is likely to be chaos. This scenario is not only inevitable but as time goes on without addressing fundamental needs, a dystopic future becomes more likely.

Planning around the edges of the pond is not sufficient any longer. As a nation we need to not only make the pond more hospitable to all but clean up the damn mess we are in, not in the future, but now, before Jeremiah croaks.

Peace

Hilton

Mycology, by definition, is simply the study of fungi. Interestingly, in the three aspects of life, fish, fowl and fauna, they do not fit anywhere. I once heard a noted mycologist remark, "If it wasn't for fungi, we would be walking on 200 feet of debris, as fungi are the only lifeforms which can decompose wood and cellulose." While that previous sentence may sound like hyperbole, it is not. Other than bacteria and earth worms, fungi are responsible for all the fecund soil on this planet.
The history of fungi is long and complicated and, by some theologians' findings, they may have been created on either the third or the fifth day of creation, and some preachers even believe their origin is on the seventh day. This is all very confusing to me, but if you see your Bible and read Genesis you can make up your own mind. I will let the reader decide which, as I'm a little out of my depth - either way, the fossil record seems to indicate that fungi are at least 1 billion years old.
Fungi have a special niche in both mycology and literature. I would suggest you take a look at the famous tale by Lewis Carroll entitled Alice in Wonderland, and you may enter the rabbit hole of psychotropics. Currently there is ongoing medical research on the benefits of using psychoactive mushrooms to reduce the symptoms of PTSD. In the city of Marquette, Michigan, here in the Upper Peninsula, where I hang my Stormy Kromer, a new company is researching how fungi might be instrumental in reversing PFAs, a major source of pollution. We Yoopers are very proud that a two-man team, of Joe Lane and Ryan Iacovacci, have received a major grant for PFA remediation. For those of us unscientific folks, PFAs are considered to be a "forever chemical". This pollutant has a long scientific name, which I don't choose to try to pronounce. Just take it from me, it's a mouthful.

Joanne is busy washing my gear and getting it ready for transfer to my sailboat, the Silent Mistress. This new adventure is on a restored 25 foot 1977 O'day sailboat. I suppose it's reasonable to ask what my sailboat has in common with my E-bike. Well, the answer is they are both propelled by lithium batteries, and as such, reflect my desire to push Americans toward a future that is better, for the climate, and for the health of our economy. The Silent Mistress, my name for the old gal, comes from the second story in Volume One of North of Nelson.
I know Joanne accepts my desire for another adventure, and truly she has been a stolid support throughout this ride. I have always been a rolling stone at heart, and God blessed me with her help and support, and regardless of what my future might bring I thank her from the bottom of my heart.
My E-bike journey is now complete, and I hope to have it published as soon as possible. But, as you may or may not know, publishing a book is a difficult and tedious task, fraught with many problems and issues.
The end of the E-bike journey was full of many difficult surprises which I will bring to light in the book. Let's just say it didn't end the way I had hoped, but in some ways, despite the hardships, I am grateful for how it concluded.
In the meantime, if you wish to read more about my adventures and insights on a variety of topics, I would suggest you check out my website, www.writerinthewilderness.com or my Substack Platform at hiltonemoore.substack.com . I currently have two books in print, North of Nelson Volume One, North of Nelson Volume Two, and a short story in the UP Reader, Volume Eight. All of these books can be purchased through Amazon, Kindle, or on audiobook. Frankly, if you buy them directly from silvermountainpress.com , that will provide more funds for the Silent Mistress.
Thanks so much for your support. Perhaps you will hear from me soon, once I'm aboard.
Hilton

Got up early, 8:05. Loons woke me. What a gift. After hearty ham sandwiches on thick homemade bread, and delightful mushroom coffee, went for a walk to the beach. Warm day. We took down the tent and packed up the gear but not until I made note of the abundance of Solomon Seal plants at the campsite. The Latin name is Poly Ganaden. Also known as King Solomon Seal, originally consumed by Native Americans, the starch seal rhizome tastes much like a form of potato. It was used to make breads and a hearty soup. The roots are asparagus-like and eaten boiled or raw. Also, history records that it has medicinal properties such as an anti-inflammatory, a sedative, and a tonic.


Wikipedia states that "It is often depicted in the shape of either a pentagram or a hexagram. In mystic Islamic or Jewish religion the sixth seal of King Solomon's signet ring, according to history, gave this wise king the ability to speak with animals. If you dive into this deep historical well you can see why the proverbial seal is the predecessor to the star of David revered by the Jewish for faith. By the way, in what seems a long ago, I ate these rhizomes on several different occasions and found them palatable, but not remarkable.

The rocky trail to Serenity Lodge where we were to spend our next night is a gorgeous cabin locked away in a dense and mosquito-ridden area. It was a very rough ride there on the E-bike, but like the proverbial Asgard, a welcome relief. A bubbling trout pond and a dock which, according to the caretaker, were quite a pleasant swim, were inviting. But tired and hungry, we chose not to take advantage of it. For dinner we took the pickup back to LaBranch Tavern for the traditional UP fish fry. The walleye was excellent and we left satiated.

The unofficial botanist and aging mycologist that I am, I can't seem to restrain myself when I spy a rarity, either in mushroom or plant. To my delight, around the lodge were numerous yellow ladies slippers. For those who do not know these lovely flowers, I recommend using a good guidebook. I suspect the name Ladyslipper might now be considered a male chauvinist label, as this flower entraps bees or other insects in this vagina-like opening, which forces the intruding insect to escape only by crawling through a canal, where the offending insect becomes covered with pollen which it then takes to another flower, spreading its pollen like an oversexed teenager.

It was very late and we took our separate sleeping quarters, sinking into hand stitched quilts, falling deeply asleep in the quiet night. Till next time, good night. Hilton

Solomon Seal

Yellow Ladyslipper

Hardwood Community Recreation Center. I would assume this might have been a school at one time, but that's just a guess.

Another shot of the Hardwood Recreation Center.

Sign to Stromberg Park.

Another day where the trip was delayed by rain. It is dusk and I am sitting in a friend's comfortable recliner - quite a change from the saddle sores of earlier in the week. I've been here three days due to rain, and fatigue.
Back to the trip. County Road 657 is roughly 13 miles from its origin, on Forest Highway 16, to the Paint River Forks campground. So exhausted, dehydrated, and bone tired. I covered the 25 miles and felt like I had won the Tour de France when I finally found this primitive camping ground. I must say that County Road 657 is a great ride through magnificent woods and forest. Along the way I witnessed a startled doe, who had recently given birth to a nervous fawn, right in the middle of the dusty road.

Dear friends,
Several days have gone by without an update on my E-bike adventure. The trip from Bruce Crossing to Kenton was amazing, and you'll be able to read more details once my book is published. Why is it that humans, at least some of us "touched" folks need to have a quest? Ever since Marco Polo we have been gallivanting around the globe, looking for something that might be in our backyards. Though in Marco Polo's case, China was a bit far away.
I have been riding in an area with little to no cell service the last few days, which has complicated my trip as battery charging is always an issue. My friend Joanne has been a gift, ferrying the batteries back and forth every day to recharge them. Hopefully in the near future, as demand and technology improve on E-bikes, they will have regenerative capabilities. For those of you who are not electronically inclined, like myself, this could be a generator of some sort linked up with the front tire that would pump juice back into the battery, increasing the range of these bikes. Enough said about this, other than that the future inclusion of an electronic port, much like what you would have on a computer these days, would open up a new host of possibilities - a plug-in coffee pot, or a water filter, or a cellphone charger, or... the list goes on.
Well anyway, the village of Kenton, where you can get a great homemade pizza at UP Chuck's (yes that's his real name!), to County Road 657 is roughly 13 miles, however, I would suggest you stop at Tepee Lake, where, the locals told me this story, Jimmy Hoffa, the famous union president, had a cabin. In my future book I will try to fill out this connection, but for now stay tuned. It is amazing what you can see or hear when you are not flying down the road at 65 mph!
Well, enough for one day. I intend to tell you more about my exploits tomorrow after I dry out - not from alcohol, mind you, but torrential rainfall. But that's for tomorrow.
Take care,
Hilton

Trestle over Agate Falls, on M28, on my way to the village of Kenton.