CAMPING IN THE WILD!

What a kid! Nathaniel Wallace, our son, has grown up since he and I drove north to

Algonquin Park in the summer to camp; a three-hour drive north from Woodbridge.

He was seven years old when I first took him there. Only the two of us along

with the cedar-strip canoe tied down on the car roof .

I told him before we left that first time he wouldn't be sitting in the bow

while I did all the paddling. I'd bought him his own authentic wood paddle

and I expected him to use it while kneeling in the bow. He'd also have to learn

to paddle on both sides of the canoe.

I remember him grinning at him. "You don't expect me to do both ," he said,

"at the same time!"

Writer's comment: Nathaniel still has the same sense of humor. It didn't seem

long before I was the one in the bow of our canoe. I'd stop paddling from time

to time to take in the beauty of nature around us and catch my breath. "Hey, Dad,"

I'd hear him call out from the stern. "I didn't bring you along to gawk at nature.

Keep paddling or I'll dump you overboard!"