The Maritimes! Yeah!

I am very proud to think I made it to the Maritimes and without once dropping my bike or crying.

In the days or should I say nights prior to our departure, I was beginning to doubt myself. Well here I am.

There was a time, as we were waiting to board the ferry from Manitoulin Island which would take us another 2 hours further from home, when I felt that childhood feeling. Wanting to swim to the raft & getting out so far out there feeling unsure.Looking back, shore seems a long way away. Sometimes you just have to keep going.

Mind you, I've had to discard any semblance of feminine notions about being clean, moisturized, mascara, hair, nails, even earrings. I can wear lipstick so completely out of character, bought a colour called Ruby,

The part of the trip I'm enjoying the most is waking up in the morning with this new shiny day full of unknowns. That is the trade off for being away from loved ones. And the dog.

Grant's back gave him some grief yesterday. His bike wasn't happy either, refusing to start several times.

There is a mysterious electrical issue that is frustrating. The fix involves removing all his luggage and gear, the passenger seat, the driver's seat and fiddling around with hidden fuses and series of connections that require contortion on his part maybe the bike just wants attention, because Grant is never sure of any specific action, but the bike always starts after a good fussing over.

We have decided to stay here in St. John's for three days. Grant will be able to enjoy some touring without having the trailer in tow. We can re-group, rest, get clean and repack.

During our night in Holdem just outside Bangor we were treated to a copy of the thunder storm we had avoided the night before. Bright flashes of lightning and rolling thunder brought some heavy rain but by morning the sun was shining bright. The drive across northern Maine was an easy one. Very few signs of life up there, just trees. We were glad we'd gassed up (although that stop killed Grant's bike again) as there was nothing. Houses and old resorts were empty and abandoned after the inter-state. Finally, after a long climb saw the Hill Top Cafe, a warm and friendly place with yellow seats and curtains. Enjoyed the best muffin of my life!

A local there advised us to take the Milltown border crossing instead of Calais (aka Callous). Take note if you're in the areas. We only had one small truck ahead of us and within minutes were on Canadian soil. It felt good to "be home". Not sure why as the differences are minimal, but it was nice not having to do math to adjust my speed on my kilo only speedometer and then there's the money.

We stopped in St. Stephen at a tourist info place and had some great fish and chips at Nautical Nancy's, (Nautical Nancy's - Ample Annie's) housed in a beautiful blue shake cottage, with window casings painted a deep gold. It was set on the banks of a river and we ate our fish and chips and watched fisherman messing about with their boats (mum what is that quote???) chatting to one another in the local tongue. The stripers are running!

We learned about a spectacular gorge nearby, so after another bike breakdown, found our way there and took some pics. Grant is posting them on a photo link. Click here, click on the first photo then press'n' for next or 'p' for previous. http://www.getdropbox.com/gallery/1520537/1/Some%20Photos%20Before%20the%20Maritimes?h=0d92f2

Drove along to the outskirts of St. John's pinching myself along the way. We are finally here!!! Stopped at the spectacular ocean side Info center staffed by the brightest and the best. One wall of the building was glass overlooking salt marshes and out to the sea, a nature preserve courtesy of the Irving family. They're BIG out here.

Were directed to municipal campsite, but as the town pre-dates the grid system, we got lost. The streets were hard on our bikes and old bodies. Would have been good to have an off-road BMW, but we made it. Set up, built a fire and sat back smiling, pleased with ourselves.

Another biker pulled in late and set up near by so we invited him to join us at the fire. His name was John. He was from Oakville, Ontario, a 50's something (aren't they all, except me of course) biker who takes one month a year to tour a province. John had seen more of BC than either of us. He had lots of stories and advice about routes to by-pass Montreal, what to see, what to avoid. He told us that Lunenburg was built using a city plan brought over from France. the city fathers laid the plan out disregarding any geography. He said it was not to be missed.

We sit here in the sun now with our coffee, pouring over brochures & planning our day.

A fresh new day. What will it hold?