We drive north toward Tofte, the windows down so we can catch a noseful of pine scent with each inhale. We reminisce about a long-ago stay at Bluefin Bay, then pass Coho Cafe. “Wait! That place is great!”
Bruce makes a quick U-turn (with no whining from the backseat driver, whose hunger seems to have overtaken her terror of the U-turn), and we’re at Coho. Bruce selects a nice smoked fish, cheese and fruit plate, I order an open-faced salmon sandwich over a bed of asparagus. Shaina orders grilled cheese. At the table next to us. three women are having dessert first. I like their style. Well, except maybe the one in the sailor shirt that looks just like one Dave wore when he was 5. But I digress.
Bruce offers to take a photo of the three of them and one returns the favor. We haven’t taken a picture of the three of us in a long time! “Nice,” she says. “That’s a beautiful shot.” And she hands me the camera, set on review. Oh, my, look at my hair! Too bad we left so quickly — I didn’t pack anything to tame the frizz.
We get in the van with part of Bruce’s fish and all of Shaina’s lunch, uneaten, in a styrofoam container. I Renuzit the dashboard and pray that the smell of smoked fish will overtake whatever that other smell is.
The weather seems to have taken a turn toward cool(er), and we point the car south. I will be sure to remind Bruce to check the internet when we get back to civilization.