Sunday promised to be a nice day, and I had been holed up breathing in my own filth and germs for the past two weeks. So when Chad suggested we make a quick trip down to Point Pelee to get outside for the afternoon, it sounded like a good idea.
The last time I'd been to the park was six years before, when
I ran the now-defunct 'Get to the Point' half marathon for the second time. But the race stayed on park roads and didn't get out to the true point. This trip would change that.
First, though, we decided to hike the marsh trail/boardwalk.
Unfortunately, this was when Liam experienced his very first bee sting. A bee that (we think) got caught up in the hood of Liam's hoodie took out its frustrations on the back of Liam's neck. I'd always hoped that this first bee sting would take place with a paramedic close by in case he turns out to be allergic... luckily he did not turn out to be allergic, because we were out on the boardwalk and in the park, which has one very long and narrow access road in and out. No medical help in sight.
After Liam calmed down and the bee curled up and died, we made a trip to the visitor's centre, and from there we hopped on the electric tram that shuttles visitors down to the 42nd parallel. You're not allowed to drive there on your own.
From there it was just a short walk to the beach - and following the beach along to the point brought us to the very southernmost point in mainland Canada:
Even though we didn't catch the fabled monarch butterfly migration on this trip, it turned out to be a really nice day - likely the last of its kind this year. I'm glad we went. On the drive home, both the kids and I fell asleep within minutes of being in the car. It was the most activity I'd done in weeks; I'm not sure what their excuse was.
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