The motel's "office" was in a corner of the gas
station/convenience store/ take out chicken/restaurant building. Once I found
the desk the owner/manager was efficient about getting me registered. Once
again, I was surprised that they didn't seem to care that I had arrived with no
visible means of transportation. I had a MasterCard and that is all they need
to confirm that I was a good person. The room was bit more expensive than I had
planned on but I was in no position to do some comparison shopping. I signed
in, checked out the room - which was really quite nice with a very fancy
bathroom, put on my sandals and went back next door to grab a bite to eat
before the restaurant closed. Given that the previous day I had had such a great
Denver sandwich at the restaurant at Gull Lake and that there was little else on
the menu that I could have, I ordered another one. Unfortunately this one was not
quite as good and the fries were clearly from a bag and just not as tasty.
There were two waitresses, I think they could have been sisters, who were
friendly enough but it felt as if they would have been happier if I had bought
some of the rather strange looking, dried out, unusually coloured fried chicken
in the display case and left. The fact that one of them started to sweep and
then mop the dining room floor only reinforced that feeling
As I was leaving, I
heard one of the waitresses say to someone that she was off to Sault Saint
Marie tomorrow morning. She was complaining that her bus left at 4:30 in the
morning. It did cross my mind that perhaps I should just get on the bus and get
a ride all the way to Sudbury. I was enjoying the rides, but it just felt as if
it was taking too long. That I was spending as much time standing on the side
of the road as I was in people's cars.
After supper I went for a brief walk down to look out at the
lake. Lake of the Woods is a beautiful lake that is visited by people from
around North America and the world. I know there is a down town area - I have
driven through it a number of times. In hindsight I may have been better off getting
my driver to let me off there, but I was not sure if there were cheap or for
that fact, any accommodations. I suppose if I had had more time I could have
checked. It was a lovely evening and I had a pleasant walk. I didn't see anyone
and there didn't seem as if there was anywhere to walk to so I went back to my
room, tried to watch TV for a bit, checked my email, did some notes and went to
bed early.
I was up early the next morning, skipped breakfast and had
my thumb stuck out by just after 7:00. I really didn't know which way to go. I
had spoken to the motel clerk/owner the night before who said that while the
by-pass was used by some people, the Trans-Canada went right through town. When
we looked at the map together, it was really a rather long walk back to the
by-pass. I remembered, perhaps far too late, one of my cardinal rules of
hitchhiking- "don't get off the highway". I was off the highway and
had no choice but to hope that I could get a ride through town.
I stood at what felt like a reasonable spot for an hour,
there were lots of cars, they were not going fast, but I had the sense that
most of them were local - just going into town. In some frustration, I walked a
bit further out of town, crossed the road and tried hitching west, back out to
the by-pass. I was there for probably half an hour when I walked even further
west to a good looking spot, crossed over again and tried to go through town. I
never do that. I am sure if anyone had noticed me they would have thought that
I really didn't know what I was doing. And they would have been right. Other
times I have been more decisive, but my long stay at the Regina truck stop had
made feel a bit less secure, a little bit less secure in my ability to
hitchhike. I was starting to second guess myself and that is never a good
thing.
Finally a older gentleman in a small pickup truck stopped
and offered to drive me to the other end of town. He had no plans for the day
and not for the first time in his life, had decided to give someone a drive who
needed to get through Kenora. He had a couple of interesting stories of other
hitchhikers including one where he ended up lending his canoe to a hitchhiker
from Germany (who had his Ph.D) so that he (the hitchhiker) could spend some time
camping in the area. I think he would have been delighted if I had expressed
any interest in seeing his home or the lake. I am sure I could have stayed with
him for a night or two. It would have been fun to share some stories - I
suspect that some of his would have not been completely true and mine might
have had the odd exaggeration in them.
However, I was on the homeward stretch. It was far too early
in the day to even think about stopping. He let me out a mile or so just
outside of town. It looked like a great spot.
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