Camping fever

The moment we arrived at the PaddleBrave campground on Saturday, the place was swarmed with people waiting to get into the river. The staff was overwhelmed with the crowd and we're asked to check into the campsite first and do the paperwork later. As we drove along the path looking for our camp site, we were once again intimidated by the sight of it was packed with campers and trailers. The first thought flashed by was this ain't a relaxing vacation I had in mind. We were a little turned off by the camp site is relatively small and closed to each other. It took us a while to put up the tarp over our tent as the trees are way too far away from each other. Thanks god that we did not give it up as a thunderstorm was awaiting for us on the second night.

After settling everything down, we hiked through the pristine woodlands along the Mason Tract, which running parallel to the Au Sable River, a mecca of fly fishing trout stream.
Back to the campsite, we couldn't wait digging into our dinner and making some s'mores.
The next morning, we headed right to the river after having a hearty breakfast. We were rather ambitious chosing the longest 5-hours canoe trip which started right off the campground, floated through the heart of the Mason Tract and ended at Smith Bridge.
This stretch of river was shallow and flowed at a steady pace. The weather was hot and humid, staying around 90F. We jumped out of the canoe to chill off in the water occassionally. Basking in the sun, we paddled and paddled. We were so toasted and our arms were sored, yet Elle had not kept her mouth shut for a minute. The moment we spotted Smith Bridge the take-out location, we felt blessed and relieved.
It's really nice that we were dropped off right in front of our camping site. The crowd had left the campground and it looked so empty and quiet on a Sunday. We wandered around the campground and ran into the owner serveral times. Elle enjoyed chit-chatting with the owner and wanted to go see him again and again, acting totally like an "uncle stalker".

The Au Sable river is flowing through our campground and there was a very nice walkway to stroll along or sit by to watch the canoes float by. Wagging our toes inside the water, Elle greated the canoeists as they passed by.
Past midnight, the thunderstorm started rolling in. The tent was illuminated with flashes of lightnings, followed by echoing booms of thunder. We could tell Elle was awaken by the thunderstorm as she buried herself and shaking under the sleeping bag. Not long after, the wind howling and the rain pouring down, beating on our tent. Elle wondered if little willies (the portable toilet closed by our tent) got blown away.