Bob at Site 242 — Arrowhead Provincial Park with His Wander 2 Tent

Arrowhead Provincial Park welcomed Bob once again, this time to the cozy and shaded Site 242. Tucked deep within the hardwood forest, the site offered a quiet reprieve from city life, surrounded by towering birch and maple trees. As soon as Bob stepped onto the sandy clearing, he knew this would be his basecamp for slowing down and soaking in summer.

Bob’s trusty Wander 2 tent was the first thing up—quick to pitch and sturdy as always. He found the perfect flat spot just beside a pair of trees and staked it down with precision, the forest floor still damp from the last rain, making the stakes bite deep. By noon, the tent stood like a red-and-grey fortress against the backdrop of green wilderness.

With the shelter up, Bob turned his attention to building his little outdoor living space. A large tarp canopy stretched over the picnic table like a forest kitchen awning, held up by a mix of trekking poles and scavenged sticks. Bob had strung up lights along the line—because even in the wild, ambiance matters.

Under the tarp, the table wore a cheerful, waterproof tablecloth and was surrounded by plastic bins, camping stoves, and mugs stained with coffee memories. A pair of Uline camping chairs faced the fire pit like throne seats of the forest, backpacks slung lazily over the backs.

Bob spent his time listening to the sounds of the woods: the rush of wind through leaves, birdsong like distant music, and the occasional chipmunk skittering across the forest floor. He hiked the nearby Beaver Meadow Trail, took photos of mushrooms and moss with his Sony camera, and finished each evening around the fire—not with hot drinks, but with a few cold ciders, watching the flames dance under the stars.

Arrowhead’s Site 242 offered just the right balance of seclusion and comfort. It gave Bob room to think, room to breathe, and more than enough light filtering through the trees to make a few good photographs in both color and black and white.

As Bob packed up to leave, the tarp came down, the chairs folded, and the tent tucked away. But the peace of this little forest clearing stayed with him, like the scent of campfire smoke on his jacket and the quiet satisfaction of a weekend well spent.