Ok - it's been a bit since we fired this blog back up, mostly because the last 3 trips have not involved the motorhome. One ridiculous trip to a castle in Yakima (thanks Dimeses!), one incredible cruise to Alaska (thanks Papa Koster!), and one destination wedding in Maui (thanks Burgers!).
This year, it was time to get back to rolling cross country (or in this case, intra-cross country? inter-cross country? semantics...). We've been to Maine a few times and have always enjoyed it, but have always wanted to visit
Bay of Fundy while we're out there and have never been able to pull it off. This time it is our primary destination, with the bonus of being able to stop in Montreal, Quebec City, and plenty of other Canadian landmarks along the way.
We're attempting to pull this off in less than 2 weeks, which is going to involve a few ambitious travel days. Take today for example - 11 hours, 537 miles (or 864km, eh), and a lot of this
and this
and a bit more of this
I believe this traffic was Canada's retribution for what was the most uneventful and efficient border crossing we have experienced to date. After much weeping and gnashing of teeth during the week (several circumstances led to Jordan's passport arriving via mail the afternoon before we left), our border agent asked for said passports, asked if we knew the motorhome's license plate #, and asked where we were headed. After telling him Bay of Fundy was our ultimate destination, he said "oh, that's a long haul, what about today?" to which I responded "Kingston". He said that was equally aggressive, handed us back the passports, and wished us good luck on our travels.
I like to think it is because I was so trustworthy, confident, and handsome. I realize it is because they already have all manner of cameras, sensors, travel history, and all of the government surveillance (5G vaccine intel via cell towers? I digress...) and already knew our entire history.
Either way, we were in the clear and free to navigate at 0.73% the cost of a trip in the US. Until we arrived at the gas pump. Luckily I had filled up just before we crossed the border, so after driving all day through our home and native land, we stopped for petrol just before hitting the campground so we can just roll in the AM. Here is the damage, good luck with all the conversions.
A few highlights of an otherwise uneventful travel day. As we crossed the border and headed past Sarnia (I have had several memorable and unable to be memorable experiences here during and post-college. Those will remain with those who were in the know, but man did this bring back some memories), we encountered Jordan's nemesis. The spiky windmill.
Back to the Sarnia memories for a moment - back in the day, there may or may not have been an incident where a member of our party was overserved by the locals, and said member offered to buy the next round with "some of these beer tokens (referring to their national currency, coins with a duck or a bear in the middle)". If that didn't endear us to the locals enough, said party then fanned out a bunch of their 'monopoly money' and asked "which color gets us the most drinks?". Good to be back.
In my defense, I humbly submit the following:
Back to the trip at hand. One dynamic that has changed significantly since previous trips is we now have another driver in the family. It matters not, no one is going to drive the big truck anyway, but this year she served a stint as navigator.
This same navigator has stepped up into more of a trip planning role, so some of our destinations in Montreal and Quebec City are completely her doing. If you know me, you know that was difficult for me to relinquish those planning duties, but we will all be better for it. As we were discussing the
Montreal Botanical Garden, we noticed this truck passing us.
We noticed the stray onion sitting on the back of the trailer, and kept pace with the truck for at least 20 minutes. I was just waiting for it to fall so I could make
this reference, but it never did.
Before we got to the campground, at the gas station we got to experiece pure Canada. As I'm watching the gas pump dial scroll to infinity, I am treated to the buzz of a license plate rattling to Dangerous Toys. Now I am not ashamed, but rather proud that I immediately recognized those tasty riffs from this
masterpiece.
Not only did I recognize the song, but when my eyes caught up to my ears, the source was majestic. A guy who might as well have been Billy from Stranger Things was backed into a spot in his Chevy Beretta (no word on whether it was the coveted Z26 or not) and reveling in his experience. There may as well have been a billboard behind him saying "Welcome to Canada". I love it here.
I will leave you with this actual (context free) quote from Jordan. "I'm not staying in this big truck alone when there's French people outside."
Tomorrow, on to Montreal.
Cheers
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