We arrived at Prince Edward Island at dark, and it was our first real attempt at camping and “tenting”.
“All tent” Parham couldn’t figure Rand’s tent out, particularly in the twilight.
Finally Tee, at age 11, figured it out only to be told we’d erected it in the middle of the access road. Oops! We moved over near a group of French Canadian campers, settling in for the night.
Americans know little about Canada (“I don’t even know what street Canada’s on” – Al Capone). Most think it’s Eskimos, polar bears, and moose and Mounties and that they all speak French.
Margaret was bluffing when she pretended to understand our early morning visitor. We’d just fired up the “Coleman cooker” and were starting to assemble breakfast foods. Margaret whispered, “Someone stole his cooler, and I think he wants milk.” As she opened the cooler and offered the contents, he simply took the whole cooler and it’s innards.
Margaret, being Margaret, didn’t have the heart to chase him. We cut off the Coleman stove, and drank our coffee as the four of us headed to the Charlottesville, P.E.I. McDonalds.
So much for our maiden camping voyage.

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