Since we had traveled so far to pick up Jack, it seemed a shame to turn right around and head home, so a trip to Algonquin Park, Ontario, was in order. And, since we couldn’t fit camping gear and Jack’s stuff in the Subaru, we determined that we would forgo a canoe/camping trip and just spend a couple of nights at our favorite resort: Arowhon Pines.
Mary had not been there since her last year at camp but little had changed in six years. In fact, little has changed since 1987, the summer we first visited with three-month-old Maggie in tow. The gravel road leading up to the place is still long and windy; the knotty pine cabins as old-fashioned as ever in their décor; the air – cool and clean, the lake peaceful, the sound of the loon eerie, and the food, as always, spectacular.
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