july 9, part one

July 9

According to my calendar, it is a Friday, according to my itinerary, it is Leave Canada Day. My fabulous Canadian vacation is coming to an end. Hot Canada, warmer than my weekend in Florida a few months ago. Who knew? Who cares? Fun is fun, no matter what the weather. And I was the only one to do the Entire Canadian Tour. Well, except those who got paid to be there, I am still a volunteer. My week as an INTERNATIONAL Rock chick is almost over. I become a plain American in a few hours.

And as the winner of the wet t shirt contest, I can safely say I am glad I knew few of the 80,000 people there, but unfortunately, the few I know seem to follow me around, they pop up on stages all over the world.

I pack up an entire hotel room into a few bags, and stuff them into my car. My clothing from the past night was still damp, and I wrapped them in plastic to prevent the few remaining clean items in my bag from picking up the scent of Canadian Rain, and Bluesfest. Half a bottle of Febreze so far, to keep the car sweet smelling, but still, cooking under a hot sun brings out all kinds of upholstery odors, and I prefer my car to smell of lavender instead of cooking dashboard and foam rubber. And I did not want to add cooked luggage to the mix.

I easily leave Ottawa, a fun little Capitol, and plan to return some day, at least I will if “They” will. Having had a fabulous time, I regretted leaving, but a decent night’s sleep and I was ready to go forward.

MY GPS was set, I consulted a map, and off I went. I soon realize that my true vacation is to drive around Lake Ontario, on purpose. And I continue to leave microscopic bits of rubber on the lovely Canadian Road system. And dribble food and drink over myself as I drive. Love trying to decipher what exactly some of these stains are, when I return home, as in my car, neatness does not count, and ruins some of the fun.

So, so far today, we learn that my car and luggage smell, and I have spills over me, and crumbs in my car. And some want never to travel with me, and some do, I know this.

Onwards, we go, and as I close on towards Border Control, I am asked for toll money again. Either Canadian or American. As I gave 3.50 American to enter Canada, I decided to leave with 2.50 Canadian, and went over the narrow 2 lane bridge, and was welcomed to New York State, USA. WOW, no lines at the crossing, I should cross here more often, whoops spoke too fast, once again my little blue car with the Mass Plates is engulfed in a sea of Ontario plates. It is true, they do ring a bell in Canada, and everyone leaves for the US, I heard it.

I read the list of forbidden items and begin to fret. I might have a concealed weapon, but I hid it so well, I haven’t found it in three years. I then read about the foodstuffs, and fruit, and quickly ate the last of my fresh fruit, before my car got searched. I then remembered other organically gown substances, and panicked, and decided that they could consult my attorney, but then again, she made me Come to Canada in the first place, and foisted all this on me, it was all her fault, really officer, I had no idea.

I was asked two questions about the Boston Red Sox, and waved on after thirty seconds. I was so looking forward to the strip search, He must have heard about Bluesfest, a bus full of tourists came thru several hours ago, still talking about me.

I continue to drive south, then West again, around and around Lake Ontario, without really seeing it.

I run into the nastiest rain I have seen since June 2008 in Indiana.
The sky got progressively darker. I kept trying to remove my sunglasses, but they were not on my face. My GPS thought it was night, and displayed a starry sky, and then the heavens broke loose. The rain was hitting the car like bullets, and making fist sized splashes on the windshield, the defroster was having difficulty keeping clear. I had my lights, and flashers on, and , driving 20 MPH( yeah, no more k/ph) I followed the truckers 10 miles to the other side of the storm. I should have pulled over, but there was no room, the road was jammed with all the smart travelers who had sense to stop in a storm. Me, I kept going, I was on a mission. I had to prove that I am the most insane person out there, and will stop at nothing to get to the next destination. Like I haven’t seen it all before. But one day, it might be different, and I want to be there when it happens.

I finally make it to my Hotel, a Good one. Damp. Strung out on diet coke and pretzels.