Trailer Park for Peculiar Red Necks

The last few days have been long and tiring, leaving little time (and internet access) to upgrade the blog. It was cruel and unusual punishment to be strapped in the Cadillac’s back seat from dusk until dawn (a total of 16 hours). Josh was obsessed that no one touch him, though he frequently used me for a pillow.
We stayed at Thunder Bay and visited a statue called the Terry Fox Monument. Terry Fox was 21 when diagnosed with cancer, and was forced to lose a leg- replaced with a poorly put together prosthetic. To raise money Terry ran a marathon a day (still with the prosthetic) starting from Newfoundland and ending in Thunder Bay (where he collapsed and then soon passed away). Almost thirty years later Terry’s monument can be found near the place he finished.
We stopped at Sault Ste Marie, because the spark plugs were misfiring. All but dad (who was vigorously working on the car) went to adventure the town for an hour or two. We incidentally mishapped into a small homeless get together and a walkway blocked by hanging caterpillars. 
More than half a day of driving brutally left our joints creaky and sore against the truck’s rigid seats. Everyone was tired and just looking for someplace to rest. The only camping place we could find was a redneck trailer park that showed sign of quiet hours, and irradiated with the sketchy stink of pot. Our camper was very out of place. There seemed to be a party going on in each one, and all of the RV’s gave the impression that they were there to stay. A few were decked out with there own patio, and I even saw one mowing his “lawn”.
PS: There was a note in the park’s public bathrooms that advised campers not to throw feces against the wall.

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