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.