July 4, 2011 Houlton, Maine<\/p>\n
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\u201cI am always doing that which I can not do, in order that I may learn how to do it.\u201d<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Pablo Picasso<\/p>\n <\/p>\n On Saturday, July 2, I headed north from Battle Creek, Michigan.\u00a0 A couple of hundred miles later, the temperature dropped 20 degrees, as I rode up and over the Mackinaw Bridge; back in the trees, the temperature went back up, only to drop again at the Sault Ste. Marie Bridge.\u00a0 When I crossed the border into Canada, I may have looked like a grown up, even like a grandmother, but I felt like a scared kid.\u00a0 I\u2019m not sure why I was so daunted by this next leg of the trip, but I was. Going through Customs was straightforward with no problems, until I got about 100 yards down the road, made a wrong turn and got lost.\u00a0 (Reminder \u2013 my GPS got wet in Oregon, and the film on the screen peeled off, making a difficult-to-read screen all but impossible to read; and then I\u2019m hard of hearing, wear ear plugs, and don\u2019t have an audio system in my full-face helmet. So basically the GPS just bongs at me and sometimes I can see which way the arrow is pointing.)\u00a0 Anyway, 100 yards in was the beginning of my lessons in Canada \u2013 they don\u2019t do road signs like we do.\u00a0 The signs are smaller, and there are fewer of them.\u00a0 After a big loop, I was heading East on Hwy 17 and feeling slightly less stressed.\u00a0 The ride across Ontario was OK but it struck me as more routine, less awe-inspiring than much of what I\u2019d enjoyed in the States.\u00a0 All the speed limit signs read in kilometers, but that wasn\u2019t an issue because my speedometer shows both.\u00a0 After a bit, I stopped for breakfast at a Tim Horton\u2019s\u00a0 – a large Canadian chain that\u2019s a cross between Starbucks and Krispy Kreme.\u00a0 The about-my-age woman behind the counter was a grouch in any language, so grumpy as to be a funny reminder to be careful in my post-menopausal approach to life.\u00a0\u00a0 The coffee was good, and then it was time to get back on the bike.\u00a0 After 469 miles and passing a couple of motels with \u201cNo Vacancy\u201d signs, I stopped at a KOA in Renfrew, Ontario, for what proved to be one of my favorite experiences on this trip.\u00a0 The campground was about a mile down a dirt road sprinkled with gravel, but I was gaining confidence in the Wing\u2019s ability to handle like a dirt bike.\u00a0 Then, of course, the campground was packed!\u00a0 Seems July 2 is Canada Day (how little I know!!) but the campground hostess went out of her way to help me, and I was soon parked on a grassy spot behind the cabins, as \u201coverflow.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 She explained how close I would be to the band, now warming up, and the fireworks.\u00a0 I set up my tent and walked over to the pavilion where the crowd was gathering.\u00a0 The band was good and played old rock & roll tunes; most people danced \u2013 toddlers, teenagers, parents, and even grandparents.\u00a0 It was fun watching how relaxed everyone was.\u00a0 I talked to a couple with whom I shared a picnic table; they had a number of suggestions for my travels.\u00a0 Then the band paused and the fireworks began \u2013 it was an amazing display by any measure (better than many cities stateside), but certainly since we were out in the woods, at a campground, and a long way from anywhere.\u00a0 If you are anywhere near the Renfrew, Ontario KOA for Canada Day, do yourself a favor and stop in.\u00a0\u00a0 When the fireworks finally ended, the band began again.\u00a0 I commented to my new Canadian friends at the picnic table, \u201cThis sure beats staying in a motel!\u201d\u00a0 They laughed, and then got up to dance again.<\/p>\n I was up early on Sunday and on the road by 7:30AM.\u00a0 Soon Hwy 17 went from two to four-lanes, and I was making good time.\u00a0 I rode thru Ottawa, managed to stay on the right roads for the tunnel that goes under the St. Lawrence River, and then continued east on Hwy 20.\u00a0\u00a0 I was still having some trouble with the Canadian signs and got very nervous in Levis because I thought I was being sent north to Quebec (not on my route!), but that also worked out and I just kept riding east.\u00a0\u00a0 Once I crossed into the province of Quebec, the signs that had been bi-lingual now only spoke French \u2013 even the important ones that warned of who-knows-what or told of detours.\u00a0 I also couldn\u2019t communicate with the credit card readers or gas pumps \u2013 everything was in French.\u00a0 I only used my credit card and handed it to a cashier; there was no way I could compute the exchange rate!\u00a0 And of course, I wasn\u2019t doing well with the liters-to-gallon thing; I think I was paying about $4.70 a gallon for gas, but I\u2019m not sure.\u00a0\u00a0 I met a couple, each on a BMW; she was riding the bike I\u2019ve lusted after for some time, the F650 GS (it has an 800 cc engine but for some reason they still call it a 650).\u00a0 Anyway, she let me sit on it, we talked for awhile, they cautioned me against exceeding 70 MPH, and they dashed away, much faster than their warning to me.\u00a0 At my next gas stop, I met a couple, each on Harley\u2019s \u2013 again a warm exchange between strangers.\u00a0 They were planning on about 800 miles that day, heading to New Brunswick.\u00a0 Later I stopped at a Wal-Mart to get something for supper\u00a0 (I thought I might need to stop for the night where there were no restaurants, and I had finally eaten my whole jar of peanut butter).\u00a0 When I came out there was a man walking around my bike; he went from the windshield to check the tag on the rear.\u00a0 I walked up, and we spoke.\u00a0 I see myself as something of a Johnny Appleseed on two wheels, so I explained my 4 Corners 4 Kids and because he was interested I gave him a card.\u00a0 Then he asked to take my picture!!\u00a0 That doesn\u2019t happen every day.\u00a0 I rode off with another smile, another good memory.<\/p>\n Sometimes I figure out that something is not a good idea by trying it.\u00a0 I decided to ride back across the border before I stopped for the night because \u2026 I couldn\u2019t communicate with the road signs or credit card readers; I didn\u2019t have cell phone service; I didn\u2019t have a clue what the clerk said when she asked if I wanted a bag; and when I stopped the mosquitoes tried to eat me alive.\u00a0 Plus that couple on Harleys were riding 800 miles.\u00a0 So I kept riding and turned south at Riviere du Loup, passing several reasonable places to stop for the night.\u00a0 Then a light rain began \u2013 not enough to stop for rain gear but enough to slowly get me wet over the next hour, at which point the mist turned to rain.\u00a0 By then I was too wet for rain gear, plus I was getting nervous because the light was fading, and there were lots of signs for French-speaking elk.\u00a0 It was an orange sign with the outline of an elk and the word, \u201crisqu\u00e9;\u201d\u00a0 I figured it was not a joke about indecent elk but I wasn\u2019t sure.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 On July 4, 2009, I hit a deer in the Rockies and totaled my FJR 1300; so the idea of seeing, much less hitting an elk, indecent or otherwise, consumed much of my energy.\u00a0 But I still acted like a horse on her way to the barn \u2013 I was determined to cross back to the States before I stopped for the night.\u00a0 Finally I made it to Edmundston where the signs to the border were non-existent, but a helpful couple pointed the way across the bridge (with grates, of course).\u00a0 Stateside, at last.\u00a0 But the Border Patrol thought I looked suspicious, I guess.\u00a0 I would have agreed with my looking weird or tired, but not as a threat to our national security.\u00a0 Any way, I got invited to pull my bike to the back (under a cover, out of the rain) where a second officer asked lots of questions.\u00a0 They seemed uncomfortable with the \u201c gypsyjudge.com\u201d on my windshield, in spite of my explanation; they asked how many nights I\u2019d been in Canada and I told them by mistake what I\u2019d planned (two) rather than what I\u2019d done (one).\u00a0\u00a0 I think they thought that was too far for someone as suspicious as me to ride so quickly; I think I agree. The officer pointed at the wet piles of camping gear on the bike but didn\u2019t ask to go through it.\u00a0 After some time, they let me go, with recommendations of a motel \u2013 which, of course, had no vacancies.\u00a0 Four miles further down the now totally dark road, and 548 miles from the KOA in Renfrew, I stopped at a $50\/night + tax motel; I still had no cell phone service.\u00a0 And by then I was stupid-tired \u2013 not a good thing when balancing a 900+ lb couch on two wheels, in elk-dom.<\/p>\n I got up this morning \u2013 Monday, July 4, 2011 \u2013 & rode to the post office in Madawaska, Maine for a photo op of my 3rd<\/sup> corner, 8,468 miles from my start point in Pensacola, Fl.\u00a0\u00a0 When I pulled up, a car quickly stopped and the lady asked if I wanted her to take my picture.\u00a0 They are accustomed to us 4 corner people here, plus Madawaska is a small, friendly place.\u00a0 She took the picture for me \u2013 see my photobucket link , http:\/\/s1141.photobucket.com\/albums\/n595\/gypsyjudge\/<\/a> \u2013 we talked, I handed her my postcard, she gave me a big hug and rode off.\u00a0 I sat on my bike, grinning (there\u2019s a line in a song,\u00a0 \u201cPlease, celebrate me home.\u201d\u00a0 And that\u2019s just what she, a total stranger, had done.)\u00a0 Then a second car pulled up, and a couple got out, \u201cDo you want us to take your picture?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 We talked, I gave them my card, they suggested stops to make, and then they drove off.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t get this response in Blaine or San Ysidro, but I didn\u2019t need it then.<\/p>\n Too tired to function last night, I realized I\u2019d ridden nine consecutive days, covering 3,611 miles (averaging just over 400 miles a day), without a break.\u00a0 And that\u2019s too much for me.\u00a0 So this morning, I headed south but only 101 miles to Houlton, Maine \u2013 as far south as I go if I head east to New Brunswick and Nova Scotia.\u00a0 On Hwy 1 south from Madawaska, I passed lots of signs for English-speaking elk; about an hour on the road, while being hyper-vigilant, I saw an elk standing maybe 30 feet off the opposite side of the road. \u00a0Not what I wanted to see!!<\/p>\n I stopped at the Welcome Center in Houlton, where they hand out literature describing the dangers of hitting an elk \u2013 this is something of the elk-strike capital.\u00a0 The brochure says to not drive around an elk standing in the road; you\u2019re suppose to stay inside your car and hope that it lumbers away, as opposed to charges your car. They forgot to tell you what to do if you\u2019re on a motorcycle.\u00a0 I checked into a motel early; I have cell phone service and Internet.\u00a0 Though there were lots of interesting choices, I chose to do nothing for the rest of the day.\u00a0 Tomorrow, assuming my energy level is up and the thunderstorm we\u2019ve enjoyed the last several hours passes on, I\u2019ll head over to Fundy National Park in New Brunswick because that\u2019s a place my mother often spoke of. I don\u2019t think she ever got to see it.\u00a0 And I may continue on to Nova Scotia.\u00a0 The loop to Nova Scotia adds about 1,300 miles to my trip; to Fundy, about 300.\u00a0 If I were to head straight to Key West and then back to Pensacola (and we know \u201cstraight\u201d is not going to happen), it would be 2,830 miles. \u00a0Tonight, my spirit of adventure is still tired, so I\u2019ll wait \u2018til tomorrow to make plans.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" July 4, 2011 Houlton, Maine \u201cI am always doing that which I can not do, in order that I may learn how to do it.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Pablo Picasso On Saturday, July 2, I headed north from Battle Creek, Michigan.\u00a0 … Continue reading