So it was about to happen, we were about to do what our mothers had warned us about. We were about to hitchhike. The Idea was never originally planned but eating lobster in Halifax and nights on the town in Montreal cost us more money than we made.

On the edge of town in Huntsville two silly backpackers were about to hitchhike for the first time into Algonquin provincial park for a canoe trip.
I heard a car coming so I extended my arm out in a 90 degree angle to confirm to the drivers that I did indeed want a ride.

The area my friend and I were in was a real touristy place and we were told we didn’t have a prayer.

The travel gods were good to us that day, and we got picked up by a cute girl in about 30 minutes. Good thing I didn’t wear my usual back and white striped jump suit with the complimenting ball and chain to go with it.
We talked as much as we could to fill any silence gaps to avoid awkward moments.

We didn't talk about anything related to murders at all, because this girl might deduce that we were planning on killing her.

We got dropped off in the entrance of this 765,345 hectare park.
However we didn't realize it was another 20 kilometers to the next campground and it was already 9:00 pm.

We finally arrived to the campground, far too late. There was however an upside though. I will never forget the star filled sky. It was the first time us city boys have been out this far in the bush.

The next morning we got up only to hike another 6 km to the shack where you rent a canoe. Got the canoe, got some food and took off for a 3 day portage trip.

The first day we were full of optimism, and just cruising through the lakes, rivers and creeks.

When we got to our campsite we soon realized how unprepared we were, we didn’t realize that we might need more than a pack of pasta and a bag of trail mix and beef jerky.

The night was chilly and crisp. We managed to get a fire going with only flint. I burnt my lonely planet travel guide for warmth.

The second day was hell (or as I now say "It was Algonquin park"), 12 hours of straight canoeing on an empty stomach. If that wasn't enough, I saw the last thing I wanted to see. Dark, heavy, distant clouds, now becoming dark, heavy and not so distant clouds providing startling lightning. Something told me that being in the middle of a lake during an approaching thunderstorm wasn’t a wise idea.

It didn't just rained, it poured. Our heavy backpacks got twice as heavy. Had I known my backpack was a sponge, I would have reconsidered the purchase. When we got in to our next campsite, we couldn't start a fire in the pool of water which was once considered a fireplace.

We slept in our somewhat leak proof tent which we bought for ridiculously cheap. Waking up in the middle night feeling soaked and not being able to see your hand in front of your face. Just about did it for me. "That's alright" I said to myself, "how much longer could it possible rain?"

After the second night I've decided we went too far off the beaten path. I was beginning to like the beaten path. Maybe there's a reason why that particular path is beaten. Maybe the people who beat this path know something we don't.

We got into the rental place and thankfully they also had a store and a restaurant. The best burger in the world was not what I previously thought. It's at the portage restaurant in Algonquin Park. And if you want to experience it, you’ll have to eat only trail mix and beef jerky for 48 hours first.

Back on the road with the arm extended 90 degrees. I smelled like a foot, looked like garbage and scared the cars away. Finally a man in a UPS truck felt sorry for us enough to drive us back into town and people ask us "How did your trip go?" we can say "Good."