Sometimes I’m not as smart as I think

My entrance into Canada began with some good old fashioned harassment.  I flagged down a customs agent to ask which traffic line to enter as no pedestrian facilities were present.  He waved me in with some trucks, but while waiting in line– his boss, a mean looking fellow– asked “How special do you think you are?”.  I was stumbling with the words that would express to him exactly how special I am, but I intercepted myself and told him that I had been directed into this lane.  “These trucks don’t need you in their way.”, I was informed.  To be honest, I didn’t need them in my way either.

Later in the day, I was lucky enough to receive handfuls of peanuts from from some locals, twice actually.  Unfortunately, they were from a passing car (curiously painted with a grey coat of primer) at 80km/h.  Thanks guys.

I finally found camp in some tall, dewy grass, and stealthily entered the tent with a minimum of mosquitos following.  Even so, I hunted about 20 little girls (the biting ones are girls, right) before being able to relax.  Later that evening as mosquitoes swarmed my netting in the hundreds, I was reluctant to exit the tent to relieve myself.  Brilliant!  I though I would unzip a small opening in the entrance, and relieve myself to the outdoors.  Simple; one of the pros of being a guy I’m often told.  I was sure not to wet my bike or luggage, which I had laid within reach of the tent.  My relief was met by a curious sound of liquid, running and splashing, something I had not expected with the tall grass.  Perhaps a leaf, I thought.  Finished, I pulled out my lamp to asses my late-night pissing prowess, and was impressed to find that I wasn’t half-bad. In actuality, I was awful.  Perfectly wedged between my tent and my bike– my helmet.  I unloaded a liter of fresh water onto the helmet and left it to dry by morning.  Brilliant.

About ten miles down the road the next morning, I stopped for a swig of water and a handful of nuts, unable to comfortably make it into town unfed, I figured this would hold me over until I could sit down for a proper bowl of oats and milk.  Instead (did I mention I was carrying over two dozen home-made cookies), I ate an entire meal’s worth of cookies.  I drank some water, brushed my teeth and generally washed away the sin of cookies for breakfast.  At least next time I will be armed with some milk.

In keeping with my good luck, my beloved Droid got a little toasty this morning while charging.  I am taking a crash course in electronics, and so far I am mostly crashing.  I have been powering it successfully all week, without a hitch.  For the first time, this morning, I turned off the device and left it plugged in.  Half an hour later it was quite warm and failed to operate.  I am hoping it’s just the battery, not the internal charger or other internal hardware.  I may be quiet here for a few days; or, I will be visiting more public libraries.

In Campbellford, Ontario along the Trent-Severn Waterway, an historic waterway that connects the northern shores of Lake Ontario with Lake Huron’s Georgian Bay. I traveled this route by boat with my family in my youth.  I will intercept segments of the Trans-Canada Trail this evening.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Sometimes I’m not as smart as I think

  1. I had the device off while riding, but might have turned it on which could have sent a surge. This is the only combination of actions that I had not yet done. The battery is a little bulged, which is starting to look familiar. Also, Canada doesn’t have the Droid, which isn’t much help. I can find tires in Brazil and Bangladesh, but can’t even find a battery for this thing in Canada.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s