We took a lazy morning to decamp and head off toward Ottawa, backtracking a hair prior to heading east on Highway 17 via Sudbury. Lots of tiny towns whose names are, unfortunately, all too easily forgotten.
We stop at a Tim Horton's (not a place I frequent) and have whatever they call their Strawberry milkshake thingy. First brain freeze in forever!
Even though I'm not reciting vehicle challenges, they continue to be a significant part of our journey. Larry's unit still requires a doughnut gasket between his exhaust manifold and header. Who wants to do that on a long weekend? No one of course. I climbed up the rear of the RV last night and sorted out the Wifi backup cam. All about the installers scrarphing the wire into a clearance light and not the backup light. I'll wire it to a hot wire so that its on whenever he wants it.
The Ceilidh continues to be temper-mental but then that's what we expect from our Gaelic miss. She refuses to ignite with regularity upon key turn requiring our under-the-hood-hot-wire start. I keep thinking Spitfire when it happens. More challenging is the increasing 'surging' when accelerating. While yesterday she was brilliant (pat, pat, hug, hug), today she was crabby as hell. Spent most of the driving day 'feathering' the accelerator, 'tickling' it, to make it up hills. But, she also 'sputters' from time to time on the descent. I'm thinking pollution devices and hoses. We'll see.
So, we arrived at the Morning Mist Resort on the banks of the Ottawa River. The river looks more like a lake at this point, wide and slow flowing. Quebec is on the other shore. Its uninhabited for miles.
The Ottawa River, Quebec on the far shore.
When we entered Ontario, or perhaps a wee bit before that, I noticed the wide, cleared verge on either side of the highway was covered in ferns. Ferns that seemed unique to this particular vegetative zone. these ferns continue to dominate the roadside clearing and I've found them here in the campsite filling spaces that seem to have been cleared of undergrowth recently. They're almost like west coast sword ferns but don't reach the six foot height. I've also noticed, along with Larry, that the robins here tend to run and hop rather than fly. Some of them are almost road runners in their dedication to keep afoot!
If possible, look closely at the river bank - that's as much as there is.
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The Ottawa River at this point doesn't rise very much in flood. When it does, it overflows the tiny banks and inundates hundreds of buildings sitting mere metres from the flow. Contrast that with the floods we have in BC. The banks are steep and high and overflow on a somewhat consistent basis. Different geography and different weather patterns. How cool to travel this great country or ours.
And...meeting folks. What precious connections to remind us how awesome and caring and interesting are the people of this earth! Here this evening is Lorne, who tells us he is "almost eighty". He was a logger in his youth. For those who know, he used cross cuts to fall and buck Ontario 'timber'. Up to eighty trees a day, felled, limbed and bucked into eight foot sections. (Seems like a lot of eights but perhaps that's just synchronicity). He also drove truck for years, both on the ice and throughout the continent. Whites were his favourite while on the road. In the bush, 'anything with a Cummings'.
There's also a couple from Iowa riding a 1600 BMW, a beautiful bike. Last year they rode to Alaska and back. This year they're doing Winnipeg to the east coast, down into the states and then back to Iowa. Cool dude. About six four with white hair in a pony tail and mustachioed like Pancho Villa.
In the morning we figure out whether to stay an extra day here or meander closer to Ottawa for the 28th. On a personal note I find I'm missing my folk. Didn't see that one coming.
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