yyt

i am not rushing i don’t have to make time. so while i did get up the break of dawn i calmly had a cup of coffee and unpacked some things that i decided would be a distraction - the deardorff and the hobo stayed, it took up too much space in the machine and i didn’t want to have to decide what camera to use, i was going to use up the rest of the film in the nether regions of québec and labrador but i didn’t want my wandering by foot curtailed by the 40kg kit.

it was a good sign that i didn’t go crazy in the two hours it took me to go through chicagoland.outside sawyer michigan decided to get a muffin and a coffee at a truck america which had poor substitutes for both, it seems that if they cannot steep it in grease they don’t have it.

leaving i made a snap when someone from inside came running after me.
-what are you doing?
-who are you with?
-why did you take a photograph?
-i’m heading to canada was looking for a muffin but couldn’t find one
-it is the policy of truck america that photographs cannot be taken inside or of the building.
-i didn’t take any inside i wanted a muffin it is nice to see that you are so friendly. i am sorry i stopped.
-it is the policy of truck america that photographs cannot be taken inside or of the building.
pulled out hoping there was a place along the road to photograph the building and dare her to do something but alas.

i was now in a hurry, i am tired of obamarama-land as nothing has really changed and was looking forward the dysfunctional but more friendly inhabitants of harperville. i raced for the border and while sarnia would mean i would be in the states a bit longer i could forgo the mess of detroit.

up 69 just past climax - through lansing and flint - saw a sign for heb’s restaurant but only stopped for gasoline.

interstates are deadly, they didn’t even go near anything interesting, to alleviate boredom, i opted for the interstate spur into lansing hoping to find olds field home of the lugnuts but even going through town there no view. it was a nice diversion when i made the wrong turn and was heading back to detroit as i had to get off the interstate to turn back.

civility returned at the canadian border when as the customs officer joked before sending me on my way. compared to the crossings in maine this was a big deal. in maine one barely slows down entering canada - going in the opposite direction is another matter. here there were queues and checks of passports.

i cannot put my finger on it but the 402 was different than I-69, it seemed more efficient, there seemed to be less traffic and everyone stayed right except to pass. i didn’t know how diligent the o.p.p. are in keeping down speed so i simply kept up with the other upper canadians but i hazard to guess that it is a problem when they talk about serious fines when one goes at 160k/h.

i was lulled into that highway stupor until the 402 ended in the 401. up until then i only knew time was passing by what was on the radio, if there was an autopilot this was the time for it.

that endeh however with the 401 and the scenery of mississauga, brompton, north york and the like here i only knew that that time wasn’t standing still the way i was in traffic by again what was on the wireless.

finally when it did open past the two nuclear power plants and away from the g.t.a. i was in a different ontario. the air had substance, i could smell the farms, the 401 was roman road straight, duckish i was becoming distracted and pulling off the highway more than i should - at the fifth wheel for a toilet break - then at an oasis in port hope for a snack. i was still too much in make time mode to sit in a proper restaurant or i would have eaten at the fifth wheel. as it was it was a strain to sit calmly and have my mr. sub before filling up and heading out to kingston.