On The Way To Canada

Day three on the expedition to Canada finds my party stranded. The snow covers the windows of the lodge and the tracks we made made an hour ago have disappeared.
The shelter we have has closed for the season, it is just me, my two hearty boys, and the inn keeper, Gale.
Our attempts for sustenance this morn were fruitful, providing us with four rainbow lake trout. But we have no means of cooking our dinner, as the inn keeper, a kind gentle spirit has locked himself in his quarters and the fire in our rooms, gas.
The last ting we supt on was a local dish, Goober Burgers and Moose drool. It has given us the energy to return to our base.
We have one box of Thin Mint girl Scout cookies. Some cocoa. Oh and the pie we could not finished dinner, which is not really a pie but more of a crisp.

Please please sent help soon. We have no TV. No cell phone. Our plans of being Ghost Hunters International is stymied here with the only sighting of abnormal phenomenon is the bar tender over at Gunflint Lodge's tale of the radio that does not always shut off right. No one else around here is talking and spring break may be over by the time we make it to that fort in Thunder Bay with misty solders that walk through walls and the hotel that freaks even it's oldest workers old into the night.
When I find my camera cord I will post pic's of the survivors that do not get eaten or fall along the way.