The ‘perfect campsite’ changes when you’re travelling with a two-year-old — who happens to be an ox named Zik. Long grass for grazing and a swamp for water take priority over a quiet place of solitude in the woods. It was our second day into northern Minnesota when we found just the spot, exactly where Zik’s energy ran out.
It also happened to be right at the spot on the map where three lines from Manitoba to Minnesota pass by. The one we’re following — the Red River Trail — was probably the loudest of the three, but now the off-key creaking of our cart is the only hint of…
