A LONG DAY

Sunday, August 29

Cantaloupe, coffee and Chai tea were enjoyed for breakfast.

The writer finished two stories and started on a third before closing his laptop and preparing for the road.

The beginning mileage was one hundred thirteen thousand six hundred forty nine.

We were on the road at a quarter to ten.

We had been moving but a few minutes when we were greeted by a novelty. A fire truck was running hot, lights and siren, and folks actually pulled over and stopped to let it by.

Another unusual occurrence was geese attending college, in Thunder Bay. The geese are allowed to attend university or at least eat there. The campus grounds were filled with a flock of geese feeding on the lawn and football field.

One had to wonder if they were students or visitors as it seems many silly geese attend university in the states. They mutilate their bodies with numerous holes holding metal of all sorts and try to improve on their neglected bodies by coloring them with things they call “tats”. It seems a shame to the writer that this is the best we can encourage to seek higher education but perhaps it is a case of who needs it the worst.

It appeared the only roads in and out of the Thunder Bay were under construction. Once there one had to endure construction to leave or one could elect to stay. Yes, it is true one had to endure construction to get there but who would know that all roads into and out of are under construction?

Leaving Thunder Bay we got a peek at Lake Superior. It looked like it could well be the ocean. Passing the scenic lookout over the lake we wanted to stop for a picture but the sun was in the wrong position and a haze hung over lake. Both would prevent a good picture.

The road had improved if only momentarily. We would have to wait and see about the rest of the day. The streets of Thunder Bay had been almost deserted, as one would expect, on Sunday morning except for an area around the Catholic church where a bell was calling folks to worship. There was lots of foot traffic there. Where ever one wandered there was not much auto traffic in town but now that we were on the road it seemed everyone from Thunder Bay and their dog was on the road.

A few miles out of town we got a glimpse of Black Bay. Like yesterday we will see lots of scenic places and maybe wildlife but taking pictures will be hard as the road is two lanes with lots of traffic and no or soft shoulders. In addition there are no turnouts.

It was cool this morning but as soon as the sun climbs into sky it will heat things up.

The navigator had boiled four eggs this morning to make another batch of salmon salad. Once under way she went back and peeled them, put them in fridge until she can make the salad, maybe later today.

An hour from Wal-Mart and forty miles up the road we were headed northeast. The road continued to be fairly good, two lanes which we expect for the next couple of days. There are frequent passing lanes. Since entering Ontario we have seen numerous signs posting the cost of fines for ten, twenty and thirty kilometers over the speed limit along with the points attached to one's driving record. It is probably a valid assumption that after a certain accumulation of points one's drivers license would be revoked. It doesn't seem like too many people speed, at least not excessively, and probably wouldn't speed at all if any patrolmen were in evidence. We had seen perhaps three in the last thousand miles and the chances of getting a driving award for excessive speed seemed slim and none. Occasionally one does still see a driver who is several kilometers over and one has to assume they know someone in law enforcement, are the law, have deep pockets and a good attorney, or are already suspended.

We entered Nipigon at a quarter to ten. We stopped at Husky for fuel. The last tank had yielded nine point seven five miles per gallon. We were moving again at ten.

Lake Heller, a beautiful lake, is formed by the Nipigon River. The road ahead seemed to urge us on.

We did continue on, north and east on Highway Seventeen.

East of Nipigon we were on a scenic highway and it certainly was beautiful. Other than the beautiful scenery what we see here most of time are signs giving the distance to next town. One can consider it an eye test as the letters and numbers are very small and require great concentration to read. Once in a while we see one of normal size but figure those are for those with impaired eyesight.

North of Lake Superior it looked like the Spruce Bark Beetle was dining long and often. Several broad leaf trees here have changing leaves and some appear to be days away from loosing their leaves altogether. A lot of the ground cover is already dark brown and giving up leaves. The fireweed is totally bloomed out and the seed pods are floating away on the breeze. This road was very picturesque.

We were traveling down near the bottom of valley, winding our way around the foot of the hills. If we had been in the bottom of the valley we would have been in the river. Fortunately that was not the situation. We were up on a man made bench. The road stretched out before us with tree covered mountains. Here and there a small park or pasture broke the woods surrounding us. A river was to the left. The navigator corrected the driver about the Spruce Bark Beetle, her eyes are better than his, and said the brown is not dead spruce but changing birch leaves. We were actually witnessing the changing of color of the leaves. Closer to road the driver could see that.

Up the road from Nipigon we passed a large area that was burned years ago. Large spruce trunks were standing but much of the area had been naturally reforested by spruce or birch.

The driver had made an error in posting the time for the fuel stop but corrected it. He was an hour off thinking he was still in the central time zone when he was actually in the eastern time zone. The eastern time zone is huge.

We passed through Beardmore, a small town that has apparently suffered from a lack of tourism and or the recession. Several businesses were closed.

Just outside of Beardmore we crossed the Black Water River. It was small but very pretty, pristine, with extremely clear water.

Lunch was served at one. It was the last of the salmon salad made four days ago. It seems to get more tasty with each passing day. We both had sandwiches as we only had half a bell pepper left. That will be used to make more later today. Then we will have salmon salad for the next four days. We may find a place to get more bell pepper, if not we have to have sandwiches. We each had water and grapes for dessert.

We passed through Jellico where there was one business relating to logging. There were sixteen to eighteen houses. If one lived there and didn't know everyone then it could be said they were truly anti-social.

We had seen four patrol cars since we entered Ontario, marked OPP, which we think stands for Ontario Provincial Police. Usually the RCMP, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, patrols the roads and does so in all the other provinces as far as we know. Perhaps this is a move toward more local control.

Overall the road has been much better than expected.

Cochran is the furthermost point north on the road. The driver wondered about the latitude of Cochran as opposed to Whitehorse where the roads are not nearly so good and north of Whitehorse are notoriously bad. The navigator checked and Whitehorse is eleven degrees of latitude farther north than Cochran. One degree of latitude is approximately sixty nine miles which means that Whitehorse is about seven hundred fifty nine miles farther north than Cochran and the really bad roads are north of Whitehorse. One would think that would account for the difference in the condition of the roads.

We had been on the road two hours since refueling and had made one hundred eight miles, an average of fifty four miles an hour. That is a testament to the road conditions.

Passing through Long Lake about two fifteen the town looked very prosperous. Many Indians walked the streets in a rather languid manner. The town borders on Long Lake, or Long Lac as the French prefer.

We were on the way to Hearst when we left Long Lake. It was one hundred seventy five kilometers distant and the map showed no intervening towns.

There was another big burn area that we passed through. It stretched as far as the eye could see and was probably another old burn. It too had pretty much self reforested. Most of the trees were four and five feet tall with some already six to eight feet tall. Once again many of the dead trees were still standing.

At a little after three we still had eighty miles to go to see Hearst. The road remained pretty good although we had gone through several miles of rough road in a construction area where they are doing repair work. This was not a government job and all hands were at home relaxing. No work was being done on the road today.

We had been pleasantly surprised by the overall condition of the road as we had expected a rough ride but the road remains remarkably good for most part.

With heating of the air from the sun the afternoon wind had picked up and we were being buffeted pretty handily now and then keeping driver awake, alert and on his toes.

And a good thing it was that the driver was on his toes at three twenty five as a black bear chose that time to be on the road, crossing. Fortunately there was no traffic behind us, at that time, and we stopped to watch the crossing and get a picture.

We would be coming into Hearst very soon which meant we were covering some good ground today.

Fifteen miles out, at Kerry Lake, we saw a sign for Hearst Air. In the south it would have to do with air conditioning but here it was an ad for float plane service, the first we have seen since leaving Alaska. There were several float planes there.

Fifteen miles from Hearst the road turned to junk and stayed that way all the way into Hearst. Instead of sixty we were easing along at twenty five to thirty. We reached Hearst at four forty. It had a population of six thousand. The majority of the houses in Hearst were square or rectangle with a gabled or hip roof. They tended to be neat but not fancy and fewer than five percent of the houses were more than one level but most appeared to have basements. The theme was utility, not uniqueness.

We stopped at a Flying J at six fifteen for fuel. We had to replenish enough to compensate for the nine point three miles per gallon we had averaged on the previous fill up.

Then it was back on the road until we found a pullout at seven fifteen.

We had come four hundred twenty three miles with an ending odometer reading of one hundred fourteen thousand seventy miles.

It had been a long drive day with not many breaks.

While the navigator changed hats, she put on the one for the chef, the driver became the handyman and tightened a window lock that had vibrated loose.

The pan sauteed sweet potatoes, salad, avocado and cantaloupe for supper was filling without being too heavy.

The view out our window as we dined

The high today had been ninety.

THE LONGEST DAY

Monday, August 30

The sixty five at five had given way to sixty seven by seven thirty under the bright sunshine.

The driver drank his Chai tea while the navigator enjoyed her coffee. They both had cold cereal for breakfast.

The generator ran for an hour to make the beverages and cool the freezer which was carrying our summer catch.

On the road at nine we had sunny skies overhead and an outside temp of sixty.

Inside the coach it was already warm and the dash air began running a few minutes after the Cummins. The sun coming through the double paned windows was really hot.

Driving this morning we were reminded that we have passed the top of Lake Superior. The road makes a big arc around the top of the lake and, as the sun shines in the drivers window, we are headed south east having passed the top of the arc.

Perhaps the moose in Ontario are kin to vampires. One doesn't go very far without seeing a road sign that indicates moose are a night time hazard. One would think the danger from moose at night would be the same anywhere moose exist but only in Ontario is one warned about being out at night when the moose are loose.

The driver had been thinking about his new great grand daughter and the memories the new parents, grand parents and great grand parents will have of this child and her own memories. It occurred to the driver that memories are like hair. When we are born most of us have little if any. As we mature we get a lot and as we grow old many of us lose it.

The writer and navigator had just seen two separate advertisements for Polar Bear Harbor and the Polar Bear Express. The Polar Bear Express is a train that takes one to see the bears. That would be a fun train ride and trip and one we have talked about taking. It leaves out of Cochran to take one north to experience the polar bears. The major obstacle for us is getting to Cochran in the winter.

Every once in a while even a blind hog finds an acorn and this morning we found one. Just about fifteen miles out of our overnight spot we hit a construction area with a flagger. When we got to the flagger our timing was perfect and we went right on through without a pause.

Cochran came into view at nine thirty five and the road turned due south. We followed it. On either side of Cochran we saw OPP patrol cars. It looked like they were running radar. It was the first time we had ever seen patrol cars in Canada running radar, being proactive about controlling speed.

Highway Eleven was left behind as we turned onto Sixty Six. Sixty Six might be called Old Sixty Six as it looked like we would be limited to thirty five to forty miles an hour. The shoulder here was about two inches and we figured it should be an interesting forty miles. Four miles down Old Sixty Six we turned around in a quaint little town. Old Sixty Six was too old for us. We headed back to Eleven.

Today the hills were of the gentle rolling variety and were half forest and half pasture. A little cultivated land broke the pattern. Lots of pretty rivers, creeks and streams, mostly clear and running pretty quickly cut through the woods and glens before slipping under the pavement and frolicking downstream. Occasionally we passed some slower streams and they were darker in color. A few of the streams had been dammed by locals to make lakes or little ponds. They were kind of picturesque.

Eleven is much better than Old Sixty Six. We had been averaging forty nine and fifty miles an hour since leaving our pull out which was good since we had been through many construction areas. We had noticed some interesting names for roads along the way, Tire and Silver Tire were two of them. At Silver Tire the tires were painted silver and imbedded on either side of the culvert. That took lots of imagination right there.

It was little after noon and we were passing through what we assumed was Amish country as we were seeing signs to watch for horse drawn buggies.

We had sixty miles to go to get to North Bay where we arrived at one twenty.

After that we went through several miles of construction including a pilot car, loose gravel and just about every kind of road surface one can imagine. There was lots of wild fern here. We had noticed them for the last several hours. They look a lot like Boston fern and grow in shady moist areas. Some were in the woods and some in ditches.

This isn't south Texas but it is warm anyway. Ninety degrees at two would give one to pause.

At thirty miles to North Bay a little mental math told the driver we were averaging around forty six miles per hour. We'd had only one stop of five minutes other than for flaggers but slowed several times for construction and several times just for road conditions. It doesn't look like our average will be above fifty today but we still hope to make our four hundred to four hundred fifty miles.

Last night when we talked we said if the roads held good we could make five hundred mile but the roads haven't been that good as well as a lot of construction so we may have to settle for four fifty. In spite of some poor road conditions it still hasn't been an unpleasant ride because around almost every bend, and there are plenty of bends and there are bends at the bottom of most hills, and there are lots of hills, one sees a new lake or pond, creek, stream or river. In the case of a lake one may see an arm or a bay. The scenery is quite nice and no matter the condition of the road the scenery keeps one happy and occupied. There are a lot of the small creeks, streams and ponds along this route that have beaver activity in them or signs of recent beaver activity.

We were coming into North Bay which is on the northwest shore of Lake Ontario. When we get there we will get back on Seventeen and head almost due east. Then we will go through Ottawa and head for Montreal. This puts us east of Huron and Superior is west of there.

North Bay boasts fifty four thousand folks. All cities want more and more territory and North Bay does too. It is a mystery to the writer as he has heard the old proverb, “You can't get blood out of a turnip” but maybe the Canadian towns have learned how to get money out of rocks.

Here is an idea for people who work with kids. The highway department has put a runaway truck ramp on this road. This is to catch trucks that run away. These trucks are out of control. Perhaps what is needed for these out of control runaway kids is a steep ramp like the runaway truck ramps. One could make the kids run up the ramp until they get tired, stop and drop. They would have to run up the ramp until they came to a halt and could gain control of themselves again. Trucks run up the ramps until they lose speed, can be controlled and come to a halt. No brakes needed. If kids want to runaway just make them run up the ramp as hard as they can until they lose the desire to run. When they drop, control can be regained.

We said adieu to North Bay and its fifty four thousand folks at two forty five and headed pretty much due east on Seventeen.

It was three hundred kilometers, one hundred eighty miles, to Ottawa.

Just outside North Bay the road was great and if it stayed that way we would be in Ottawa in three hours. Some times between the cup and the lip there is a slip. There was slip. We saw a sign that said Ottawa three hundred sixty kilometers, more like two hundred thirty miles.

When the reader comes to Canada to drive cross country, he or she should not look for a cross country interstate system. They do have a cross country highway system and that is what we have been driving. For the most part it is two lanes. The Yellowhead is four lanes but there are no elevated portions, no controlled access and there are crossings at grades, constantly. On Eleven and Seventeen it is all two lane if memory serves. Remember, this is the inter provincial highway and U.S. residents are not used to this. Driveways and businesses open directly onto traffic lanes. We have been able to maintain our desired driving speed most of today and the road has been very very good, for the most part. There are certain portions that have required us to slow down to thirty five miles per hour, with lots of rocking, rolling, rattling and shaking, which is not usually the case when we are on the interstate system in the U.S. When we tried to map this trip on software on the web it was always taking us into the U.S. and these roads may be why. No matter where one started from it was always the same. The mapping software took us the shortest route possible to the U.S., eastward and then back up to Nova Scotia through Maine.

When four thirty got there we were still headed toward Ottawa but back on good road. We keep thinking every time we hit good road that it will last and we can just drive on in at fifty five to sixty miles an hour. Just about the time we settle in to do that we hit a bad stretch of road. Then I have to reach down and pick my eye teeth up off the floor and reduce speed to twenty five to thirty. On the cross country highway the really rough sections leave something to be desired. We are not saying the U.S. doesn't have some equally bad roads. There were years when the driver refused to use IH10 through Louisiana it was so rough. This is no worse. The problem is there are no alternate routes. This is it.

Next to the road with no alternative were small lakes and ponds that were covered with water lilies and half of them were blooming. It made for a pretty sight, something to look at while we were stopped for construction.

The navigator just said we are within striking distance of a real freeway, west of Ottawa. We have been thru Ottawa and they do have freeways. It is eighty five miles. At our current rate of travel we will be there in about two hours, right at the height of their rush hour.

Deep River is a pretty town of forty two hundred. It looked like the homes were larger than those we had seen recently. There were more complex floor plans and roof lines and it made for a very prosperous looking town.

Harley Davidson probably outsells BMW fifty to one, but as we have seen, on road trips BMW outnumbers Harley Davidson fifty to one. The guys riding the BMW’s at five thirty were in ninety three degrees.

The navigator said it feels like we are just creeping and it does because the rough road and construction slows our progress.

It was six o'clock. We had come four hundred eleven miles and our average speed had fallen to forty five miles an hour. As soon as that mental calculation had been made we were behind another pilot car.

While following the pilot car we passed Haley Road that leads to Haley Station. Hello Haley in Austin, Texas, the youngest grand daughter.

We cleared the construction area and went eight point two miles before the next one.

Ottawa was gained at ten to seven. Nine hundred thousand people call Ottawa home and unless our eyes deceive us we are on one of their freeways. It had been four hundred forty two miles to here in a little over nine and a half hours.

Now that we are here the navigator has no idea where we will spend the night. We will see. It won't be a big problem. We have come over forty one hundred miles since leaving Castaway and have always found a place to park it. By the way, driving the forty one hundred miles, as we have, without a freeway would be like driving from the east coast to the west coast of the U.S., turning around and driving back a third of the way without any freeway.

Even though we are on the freeway we are not done with construction or rough roads. Headed through Ottawa on the freeway we did find super smooth surfaces and five lanes.

Passing through Ottawa at rush hour took ten to fifteen minutes, max. They have a super good freeway.

Four Seventeen was taking us south headed towards Montreal.

At seven twenty five we pulled into a Flying J, twenty miles into Quebec.

Even at nine o'clock it was still hot, eighty two, but there was a nice breeze blowing through the open windows and roof vents of the coach.

We dined at nine thirty and went to bed at ten.

It had been our longest mileage day of the trip, since leaving Castaway. The ending odometer reading was one hundred fourteen thousand six hundred forty three miles meaning we had come five hundred seventy three miles since rising.

MAINE

Tuesday, August 31

We were up at eight and it was seventy two. We don't know how cool it got last night but it was below seventy and we were able to get a restful night's sleep.

There was bright hot sunshine this a.m.

Cold cereal with strawberries, Chai tea and coffee broke our fast.

We cleaned the windshield and headed south for the border. We were the only rig at Flying J when we went to sleep but two more came in after we went to sleep, a fifth wheel and a trailer.

We were on the road at ten, it was eighty two, and out of Montreal at eleven, headed to Sherbrooke but we would never get there. We turned. It was seventy five miles to the port of entry/exit. We will be in Vermont.

South of Montreal we were starting to see mountains again. They were not like the Rockies but they were too big to be called hills. Tree covered they were a welcomed sight as we knew we were getting close to Vermont. Soon we were passing thru the mountains we had seen from a distance. They were just as pretty up close as from afar. They were mostly tree covered with mixed forest with some open areas, very restful to look at.

We were into Vermont at twelve fifty. The customs officer seemed to be intrigued by all the canned salmon in the Subaru and wanted to know if we did it or paid to have it done. We told him we did it and he was curious about the process. We told him. He was a nice guy, fiftyish. We shared the process but not the salmon.

We stopped in Newport, Vermont at one for fuel. We got nine miles to a gallon on the last tank. We did drive faster than normal speeds last night to keep up with some trucks so they could run interference in case we did see a moose or deer. There were numerous signs to watch for same, and we figured it would better to have an animal hit by a metal truck than a fiberglass coach.

Vermont was a beautiful, beautiful ride. The four lane divided freeway was glassy smooth without a seam. There were trees in the median and mountains surrounding us. Not a sign of a billboard or piece of trash was to be seen. Some leaves were turning color.

We turned off Ninety One South at Johnsbury onto Two East. Johnsbury is a pretty little town with narrow tree lined streets and old homes. There is a nice modern high school.

A passing motorist advised us the left rear tire on toad was almost flat. We stopped. The driver got out to check. The motorist had been kind in his appraisal. It wasn't almost flat, it was. The back of the toad was unloaded to get to the jack and full sized spare. In the hot hot sun the tire was changed, the toad reloaded and the trip resumed with a dirty sweaty driver. At the end of the tire change a young couple had stopped to help. Their aid was greatly appreciated. Nice folks there from Johnsbury.

The flat had cost us about thirty minutes.

We were headed east thru pretty little towns with old well kept homes. Lots of browns, yellows and an occasional red were showing up in the trees. Fall must be somewhere nearby. We expect when we come back this way in a few weeks there will a lot more color.

We got away from the little small towns and onto the open road. It had two lanes and was not too narrow but was winding with slow curves. There was the ever present sign, “watch for moose” We probably averaged forty on this stretch.

The driver visited with new Grand-paw Blomstrom, that would be David Matthew, as we rolled into New Hampshire and the White Mountain region where we met construction with a flagger at four twenty. The road was rock and dirt and was a long slow pull.

In Mexico, Maine at twelve ten it was ninety. We turned left on Seventeen and headed to Ted and Priscilla's, Seventeen miles out and past Roxbury we turned into the lane leading to their home. There we got out and exchanged hellos and hugs.

Then we unhooked and backed the coach into their drive next to house. We plugged into their fifty amp service and hooked up to water before going inside for snacks.

Ending mileage was one hundred fifteen thousand six hundred four miles.

Priscilla loaded the table at seven thirty with lobster, cold slaw and corn on the cob. If the writer is able to get into his pants by the end of the trip it will not be because he hasn't had a chance to gorge himself, frequently.

Onie and Priscilla visited til eleven. Ted and the writer jawed until twelve.

The air conditioner ran all night.

EARL

Wednesday, September 1

It is still hot in Maine. Eighty at ten was a testament to that.

Bright sun shone down on the coach as we had our Chai tea and coffee.

Breakfast was at Ted and Priscilla's, fresh cantaloupe, watermelon, blueberries and blueberry muffins. We visited a while then went out to wash the cover on Subaru and let it dry.

Ted and I unloaded the back of the Subaru so we could get out the flat tire, took it into Mexico, in his pickup to be repaired and came back to the house.

The ladies had gotten ready and gone shopping.

We took the cover off the Forester, took it around and laid it on a big sunny part of the yard to dry underneath. We also took along the foam padding to dry.

Then we washed the Subaru.

It was time to go back and get the spare tire. As we were preparing to leave the tire repair guy called and said the spare tire was ruined. It had a cut in the side wall. It had been low/flat too long before we stopped. He told me what he had on hand. I selected a tire for him to put on so we will have a spare. It would be ready at four thirty or a quarter to five.

We continued working at the house. The electric plug for hooking up the toad to the coach while towing, under the front bumper of the toad, had come off when we removed the tow cover. Nuts and bolts, lock washers, etc, were selected from my small collection in a traveling tool box and the connection was put back on .This time the nuts and bolts had blue lock tite on threads. They should stay on.

It was time to go get the new tire. We went back into town in Ted's truck and got the tire, came back and put it in the Subaru. Ted suggested we unload the rest of the stuff in the Subaru so it will be lighter to tow and we can use the car in Nova Scotia.

Around three Yvonne Boudreau called from Weymouth, Nova Scotia. Hurricane Earl had been forecast, as of nine this morning, to hit Yarmouth, sixty mils south of where we stay, Saturday morning as a Cat 2 storm As of three, her time, the forecast had been revised and Earl was to strike Digby, thirty miles north of where we stay in Church Point. It was still to be a Cat 2. Cat 2 winds are too high and dangerous for the coach and in addition if Earl does strike Digby the “pit” where we stay in Belle Baie will have to be evacuated. Due to the combination of high winds and high tide there could be several feet of water in the “pit”. The driver told her we will continue to monitor the weather and stay in touch with her. As soon as a definite track is known for Earl or it makes landfall we will be on our way. In the meantime we will stay put. She understood but hoped to see us sooner than later. We will talk again tomorrow noon when she gets the next advisory.

After we unloaded the Subaru and stored the contents we got the buffer, wax and compound out of the basement and took the dirt stains off the front of Subaru by hand compounding it. Then it was waxed and buffed. It always gets stains from the cover and foam riding on it for several hundred miles, in this case about forty five hundred. The car looked nice when it was finished. And it had just been finished when the ladies got back from shopping.

The driver helped Onie unload her purchases and then the foursome went to sit on the deck. Onie prepared smoked salmon, salmon salad, crackers, cheese, smoked salmon on a bed of cream cheese topped with capers all on a cracker and it was all very good and a big hit with Ted and Priscilla.

We visited to eleven or so. There were lots of bugs so we got out our electric bug zapper and hung it from an eave over the deck. We plugged it in and it began lighting up like a Christmas tree and fireworks killing bugs by the hundreds. It was quite a show to watch. We also used our hand held bug zapper as did Priscilla.

The high had been ninety two, very hot for Maine, and the writer had sweated like a lady of commercial affection at an old time revival, while working on the car.

By eleven it cooled off to seventy two.

Back in the coach the writer made notes while the navigator got ready for bed.

STILL HOT

Thursday, September 2

The writer was up at eight thirty. He fixed the Keurig, filled it with water, to brew coffee for Onie, then made notes in the recorder. Outside it was seventy two.

Onie rose a bit later. We had coffee and tea then took a tray into the house.

This morning we were treating Ted and Priscilla to breakfast at eleven thirty. Inside we began preparations for the eggs Benedict, mimosas and strawberries and cream with honey. Onie and I worked together in the kitchen, cooking for Ted and Priscilla. We used their stove but our stuff.

On the button of eleven thirty the four of us sat down to our hearty meal.

Later we looked at weather on the web. We checked on the progress of Earl and talked to Yvonne and Alvina. Alvina runs Belle Baie Park where we will stay when we get to Church Point. We told them we would be up Sunday night or Monday.

The ladies left for shopping in Mexico and Rumford.

Ted and I got a book and went to sit in shade, read and watch the dogs play.

Later the driver put 303 on the car cover.

It was still hot and humid in Maine being ninety three at five. Sitting in the shade in the breeze was comfortable. Doing anything else it was too hot.

The writer left the shade for a while to sit in the coach and make notes and write. Outside his window was the beautiful view of Ted and Priscilla's front yard/pasture and nearby mountain.

None the less at five thirty the driver began removing bugs from the front of the coach beginning with the navigator's side. He was half finished with that side when the ladies returned from pumping up the local economy.

After an hour or so we had snacks outside on the front deck, visited a while and then it was bed time.

CAMP

Friday, September 3

Both of us were up at eight. Onie had coffee and the writer took a quick shower then headed outside to continue working on coach.

By eight thirty it was already seventy two. Work progressed outside on the coach getting tar and bugs off until twelve thirty when the writer joined Onie in the coach and we had steel cut oats and mixed melon for breakfast. There was no hot tea or Chai tea. It was just too hot for that. It was already eighty eight.

Ready for a change of activity as well as clothes we went in to Ted and Priscilla's apartment and showered and put on fresh clothes.

The ladies headed off to their hunting grounds, Wal-Mart and Mardens. Mardens is a Maine chain that specializes in great bargains.

Ted, his brother, Bob, Mr. Muggs, Miss Poppy and I left to go to Ted's hunting camp an hour and a half away. Mr. Muggs and Miss Poppy are pugs. It was forty miles on mostly paved road. We drove north most of the time and passed Coos Canyon, a favorite swimming hole for locals, went through a small town and headed into higher country. All the way the road inclined, not too steep, but a continuous climb. All along the way were scenic areas but one in particular stood out. To the left of the road was a vast valley and in that valley were three natural lakes. Trees filled the valley where the lakes permitted. The writer saw one lone house.

We turned off the pavement and continued our trip over crushed rock road. We were in logging country and from time to time met trucks carrying logs or chips. Unlike Texas where small limbs are left to rot, in the woods, here they are run through a chipper and taken to a mill to be used as fuel. We stopped when we met a pickup driven by a friend of Ted's and Bob's. They visited a bit about the logging and hunting prospects for the coming season. Driving on, Ted pointed out areas that hold deer, moose and bear. These areas are different from the ones where they hunt snow shoe rabbits with his beagle. Snow shoe rabbits are hunted in thick soft wood areas as snow shoes don't burrow but rather live on top of the ground. The thick soft wood growth provides protection from weather as well as predators. Predators here include coyote as well as bobcats, fishers and bears.

Ted's very nice hunting camp lies off one of the logging roads. Once there the doors were opened and Mr. Muggs and Miss Poppy were off on a romp in the thick grass. Ted opened the door to his cabin. Inside was very comfortable quarters with a living room/kitchen/dining room area and a separate bedroom. Gracing the walls of the kitchen area were new knotty pine cabinets that Ted built this past winter. A gas/electric refrigerator sat near the stove. Nearby in the living area was a wood burning stove. Permitting a view outside were newly installed double paned windows. The camp will be very warm and comfortable this fall/winter when Ted and Bob come to hunt. They will bring along a generator to power the refrigerator as well as the lights. Should they forget the generator or opt not to run it the gas lights on the ceiling will do double duty providing light and heat.

Above the camp, about a thousand yards, a nice strong spring pumps out a steady stream of water. In the near future Ted and Bob will lay pipe to provide gravity fed water to the cabin where it will operate the kitchen sink, a shower and the toilet facilities and septic system Ted is adding. Ted said it was just a hunting cabin but the writer said it was much nicer than many places he had lived in his youth.

The three men and two dogs arrived back home at five thirty. The dogs got out for another romp and the men visited a little more before Bob continued to his home.

The ladies returned shortly after that.

Once again snacks were taken on the deck. Onie fixed calamari and a couple of different salmon salad dips. Priscilla fixed cold boiled shrimp and fried zucchini. Raspberry pie and ice cream filled in the cracks left after the snacks.

With a cooling in the air we moved inside, at eight, where Onie and Priscilla visited til nine when Onie went to the coach to watch TV. Ted and I discussed politics and the lack of assumption of personal responsibility by the American public in general, and politicians in particular, for their own actions.

The writer joined Onie in the coach at ten and made verbal notes for Thursday and Friday before joining Onie in bed at ten thirty.

As if on cue rain started at eleven making the most delightful sound on the roof, one that encouraged sleep, and caused us to drift off.

The rain continued thru most of the night

NEW BRUNSWICK

Saturday, September 4

The rain had stopped when we woke at eight. It was cooler, sixty seven degrees.

Onie drank coffee and and the writer Chai tea while making a pot of tea.

Onie cleaned the kitchen and fixed breakfast.

After breakfast the driver re-stacked things, out of the way, in Ted's garage.

We got ready for the road. Slides were brought in, jacks were retracted and the electric was unhooked. We pulled out on the drive and hooked up the toad.

Goodbye for a few days.

So longs were said, hugs were exchanged and we were on the road at twelve twenty. Beginning mileage was one hundred fourteen thousand six hundred forty three.

Riding along with us was Miss Garmin, on loan from Ted. He encouraged us to borrow it to see if we would want to get her sister when we get back. She will be talking to us on the way to Nova Scotia.

East from Mexico, on Highway Two, we traveled toward Bangor. Many many little towns were encountered along the way. Sometimes between towns the speed limit was forty and sometimes fifty five. In the little towns it was almost invariably twenty five.

Crossing the historic Kennebec River we continued toward Bangor.

Everyday we have been in Maine we have noticed a few more leaves changing color and a few more leaves falling off trees. Most of the color change is occurring on the tops of mountains across from Ted and Priscilla's but we also see it here as we travel east on Two.

When Two intersected Ninety Five we turned north toward Bangor.

Letting Miss Garmin work, at three thirty, we trusted her to take us through Bangor which she did without a hitch. In addition she had us dodge downtown which was a real bonus. Onie was starting to like Garmin.

As Garmin directed us to turn right onto Nine we remembered the road as being pretty good. In fact so far it had been a lot better than we remembered. A lot of it has been resurfaced just recently. Still it retains the same twisting turning narrow characteristics as before. In some places it almost turns back on itself. There were lots of hills and curves and very little evidence of habitation not being many houses along the way. We felt like we might be getting back into wilderness. There were no visible power lines.

All in all it was a beautiful afternoon ride. We had started off with the dash air running since it was a little bit warm. Three hours into the trip we had switched to the dash vent. Overhead beautiful blue skies with some high white clouds with a little tinge of gray drifted along, keeping us company. Some looked like they had the possibility of developing into thunderheads later in the day but since it was five they didn't have long to make up if they were going to do it.

We passed thru Canadian customs at six fifteen but once into New Brunswick another hour slipped away, being lost on an imaginary line. Traveling now we were on Atlantic time.

North toward St John on a road that was much better than either of us remembered. Moncton lay beyond St John. The road was four lanes in some places and divided a short distance in others. The surface was good in all areas and the speed limit of one hundred kilometers an hour, sixty four or sixty five, was a speed we could almost attain. Able to drive our regular cruising speed we were making good time. We had come a little over two hundred miles so far today and would like to get three hundred thirty eight before we stop. That way we will have three hundred fifty left for tomorrow.

Shadows were getting long with local time being seven thirty.

Garmin announced that it was sunset and the driver believed it for although it was only eight o'clock daylight was fading fast. We had hoped to drive longer, possibly into Moncton, but now our plans were being revised. We would drive to St John and spend the night there. Once again we were seeing the nice warning signs for deer and moose. There was no desire to have a close encounter with either on the road.

The navigator just mentioned that from everything being nice and clear things have suddenly turned hazy. We were running along real close to the Bay of Fundy and had seen it up close several times. Pretty good surfing waves were coming in to the beach which we felt was not normal and probably came from Earl.

Once again we were on divided highway and navigator said it should last all the way to Moncton, which will be nice. A big high fence was seen on either side of road which made the driver feels much better as it should keep most animals off the road. With no animals to be considered it might be possible to drive on to Moncton. That nice high fence was short lived and now there was no fence at all. St John would be our resting place.

We were still on good freeway but the secure feeling was gone. St John was twenty miles ahead.

At the St John River we stopped for the toll bridge. At the toll booth the driver asked the young man taking the money how to get to Wal-Mart. He gave very explicit directions and told us to avoid a very tight turn that would be impossible for us to negotiate. We proceeded with Garmin advising us of our route but when she said to exit we ignored her, this was the sharp turn, and went to the next exit, following the advice of the young man, The road to Wal-Mart was exactly as he had said with landmarks clearly visible.

At ten minutes to nine we were in the Wal-Mart parking lot where signs say “no over night parking”. We were tired and wanted to stop. The large parking lot next to Wal-Mart had no such signs. We parked there. We had come two hundred eighty eight miles.

Outside it was cool so we should get a good night's sleep.

The navigator was busy fixing supper by nine local time.

Outside it was sixty five.