The circle remains unbroken
Get up, get out and move on. Vacation time is over. Find your way home, to begin another year in the service of the almighty dollar. It is so ordained.
And so before the morning mist had cleared, we downed some mediocre coffee, snarfed a bagel with cream cheese (secret process, to keep the consistency akin to zinc oxide) and filled the gas tank. Hours of driving ahead. Funny how the road quality changes at the point where we leave the drive through province and hit the least-loved section of the TCH.
Meals on the final day are never great. Missed the DQ, so a substitution of Wendy’s chicken “happened”. Better luck next time. And once the hotter part of the day hit, the only ice cream vendor was the MickeyD in La Pocatiere, where a local biker gang (Iron Beast BSL) decided to give us all an earful. Yes, your pipes are awesome! Now go play in the traffic. And traffic there was. Along the 20 and over the bridge, with lots of company. All rolling faster than those signs suggested, and swapping positions like a checkered flag was in play.
At least we had DNTO on the radio, albeit in replay.
Home again, almost. I had to walk the last kilometre, after we met son #3 chasing a bus. Moms do rides, don’t ya know? The lawn was a little long, the pool a little stale, the kitchen a little disorderly. That’s what happens when the parents take a six week holiday from routine.
The stats follow.
- 38 days
- 10,5oo km of driving
- $1130 in fuel
- 3 interprovincial ferries to sail us around
- more fish based dishes than the whole rest of the year combined
- no sunburn
