Special gates
Sometimes it helps to get up before the light of day. Before you can see what you are doing, and have second thoughts. The alarm clock rang. Without hesitation, we leapt out of bed, dressed, had that necessary spot of java and then hit the highway.
The road through the heel of Quebec still isn’t finished. At this rate, by the time the stretch of the Trans-Canada leading into New Brunswick (affectionately known as the Drive-through Province) has been widened to four real lanes, I will no longer care.
This is one of those tourist attractions that require an explanation. In New Brunswick, the moose have designated highway exits. MooseGates. Given the number in certain parts of the drive, there may be whole herds of herbivores wandering aimlessly up and down. Time to introduce a curfew, so they won’t be out “running the roads” at night.
This is our first trip with a decent GPS. Although complex calculations seem to provoke brain fail, we actually managed to get in and out of a number of gas and bank stops without need for medication. That’s good. Vacations are relaxing by nature, but driving around in circles isn’t recreational.
This evening, I returned to my natal village with my sister. The first time we’d made that trip together since we learned to read and write. For those who need to date such things, I never had to cut a quill or sand down my page, but the ball point pen was a novelty item for the idle rich.
