Plans of having an early start this morning
went right out the window since last night’s debauchery. Poor Amanda had a difficult time getting
up. Our brains were like mush. Our zombie-like beings eventually managed to
pack all our things back on the bike and get the show on the road. Canuman rode out with us near Swanton where
we had lunch at McDonald’s before bidding each other farewell.
Back where we were reunited almost a year
ago at Rouses Point. Not much has
changed since the last time we were here.
I don’t expect much has changed back home either, but I know for sure we
have.
The last border crossing of our journey
Checking out the busy scene in Montreal. We were supposed to meet up with Sarah, the
intern we met in Grand Falls-Windsor, but her flight was delayed due to a
storm.
A brief visit to Tristar Gym, training
grounds for current UFC welterweight champion Georges St. Pierre
It was nightfall by the time we were riding
out of the city limits and we managed to stop at St. Hubert for supper just
before it started to pour rain.
St. Hubert is a franchised restaurant chain
originated in Montreal specializing in rotisserie chicken. There used to be one not far from where I
live in Toronto and I remember mom and dad taking the family out for dinner
there when we were kids. Today, there
are maybe a few locations left in Ontario where the majority of the restaurants
are in Quebec. It’s a lot fancier now
than I remember it. They have flat
screen TV’s in the restrooms and cool holographic fishes swimming in the
sinks.
Their famous chicken sauce. I remember drinking the leftovers when I was
a kid.
Bon appetite!
When the rain let up, we were back on the
road in search of a place to lay our heads; very difficult in the dark, rain,
and urban sprawl. We were out hunting
for gazebos in the night when Amanda had an idea when we rode past Rona, the
hardware store. She doubled back and
checked to see if there were any unlocked utility sheds they had out on
display; clever girl. All of them were
locked except for one and that was enough to get us through this miserable
night.
It’s taken us a year to have the gall to
pull a stint like this. We probably
wouldn’t have the nerve to do this at the start, but now that we’re so close to
the end, we don’t care. We just want to
sleep.
Might be a little tight…
…but at least we get to stay dry and not
have to pack a wet tent in the morning.
 |
| 218 km
Back
where it began.
Thinking
outside of the box.
Sleeping
inside one.
|
No comments:
Post a Comment