Tuscarora Lodge And Canoe Outfitters
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- Free parking
- Pets allowed
Photos of Tuscarora Lodge And Canoe Outfitters
TripAdvisor Reviews Tuscarora Lodge And Canoe Outfitters Grand Marais
Travel Blogs from Grand Marais
... quietly and reflect on the year long journey that we have taken. You think the muse will magically connect all the dots and present a packaged "feeling" of how it was. Thank goodness it’s not like that! Day to day life on this adventure was unpredictable, exciting, strange, difficult, busy, quiet and fun. So is life, once you arrive home.
Bathroom taps need to be fixed. Family needs to be hugged and thanked for all they did for us while we were away. ...
... bug clambers off. As I watch it explore its new home, I’m pretty sure the bug has no idea what’s going on. It’s not worried about being lost. It has no Plan. It isn’t comparing itself to other bugs, or being envious of the ones still on Isle Royale. It simply adapts to its new circumstances and carries on.
“Maybe I should title my blog, 'Life Lessons from a Stinkbug,’” I think as I trod up the hill to my ...
... up 30,000 steps on her FitBit, Julie and I read in the sun, mosey up to the store for a breakfast of hard boiled eggs and chocolate pudding, shower, read some more, and head back to the store for tasteless mass-produced sandwiches. Around noon, we decide to walk on the nature trail where Zan saw moose last night. Maybe we’ll luck out and see some too. As we pass the ranger station, we notice Zan inside, perusing the book section. ...
... time. Then I took a photo and she ran off.”
I’m picturing the whole thing as she talks. It sounds magical. “And then I heard a noise behind me,” she continues, “and I turned around and two moose were crossing the trail. It looked like a mother and a calf.” It’s a good thing it’s dark so that Zan can’t see I’ve turned green with envy.
Envy is believing I would be happier if I saw a moose, or possessed ...
... must be the first beaver dam, which, based on the map, the guidebook, and the time, should be on the first creek on the map. Now we are a mile and a half from the second creek, I think, but Julie insists it is the second creek.
The truth is, neither of us really knows where the heck we are.
At least we are now heading up, onto the ridges and out of the mud. We stop for lunch at a nice sunny spot on some rocks overlooking an area of woods that burned a few years back in ...