We left the home of the Big Nickel, and (hold your breath): Don Cherry's Family Restaurant - which was across the street from our motel - and headed off for the north shore of Lake HuronThis one leg of the trip, from North Bay in the last part of Day 19, through Sault Ste Marie - our halfway point in Day 20 - are the only portions of the trip in which we are covering the same ground, as our plan had us crossing the border at the Sault and continuing west, particularly on U.S. highway 2.
I know this is a recurring theme, but it says something interesting about Canadian culture that we stopped for morning coffee at the ubuquitous - or perhaps, iconic (used in the sense of it having become an object of uncritical devotion) - small town Tim Hortons (in this case at Blind River Ontario), and were met with a huge drive-through line-up, and an indoor line-up that was out the door. I took some photos to try to capture the feeling of the Saturday morning crowd, though I don't know how successful I was. At some level, though, it's kind of charming: clearly in the small town environment in particular, it has become a great meeting place. It's great fun to hear snippets of conversation between George and Martha and Susan and Joe as they talk about - well, whatever - and the banter that goes on between the large table of older men who obviously hang out there routinely.
A great moment came when Bob decided he needed a power nap more than coffee, so lay on his back on some grass outside a motel next to the Tim Horton's. Someone drove past and shouted out at him, "Moron, what are you doing? Get a job!?" Juxtapose that enlightened and compassionate moment of human engagement, with the lady who had driven by, and then took the time to turn around and return to check to see if this guy lying on his back with both arms and feet outstretched was O.K. or, as she said to Bob as she stood over him, "I wondered if you needed CPR?".
Gotta love people. One of the great joys and privileges of this trip has been to encounter so very many people in so very many places. The "Moron" moment was an aberration: we have met a wide variety of people to be sure, with widely varying degrees of sophistication, but predominantly, strikingly, friendly and engaging.
Anyway, from Blind River we proceeded along the north shore of Lake Huron, passing Thessalon (of earlier note in this blog), and on to the Sault. We stopped for gas at a PetroCan and discovered a group of full-patch Hells Angels in conversation with 4 cars worth of Ontario Provincial Police. Interestingly, the OPP didn't seem to have any interest in interviewing the second group of bikers in the station (I refer, of course, to the Knights of the Open Road). We moved on. No photos.
Didn't know that Sault Ste Marie spans both sides of the border. A very long bridge joins the 2 sides. George and I went through Customs together (unusually, it seemed, he waved both of us forward to get together). Turned out he was a very friendly fellow, lots of friiendly conversation asking about our trip, etc. Early on he asked us what we did for a living, and George said he is "self-employed". As our conversation was coming to a close, the fellow said (ostensibly to me, but to both of us), "You're O.K. to go, but I don't know about this unemployed guy". Loved the line, and gave George the gears about it. Intersting synchronicity with the "Moron, get a job" line directed at Bob earlier.
One can only assume they don't know they are talking to Knights of the Open Road.
Off towards Marquestte Washington on what must surely have been one of the longest, stratightest secondary highways upon which I've ever driven.
Stopped for a bottle of water at a roadside grocery located across a small parking area fromn a tavern. A lot of bikes parked there. Some people came out fo the tavern as we were drinking our water, and remarked upon how odd oit was to see bikers drinking water. They asked if we were there for the 19th Annual - apparently an event at the tavern of some considerable local repute. it was difficult not to form the opinion that s considerable percentage of the persons driving past us within a 40 km radius might well have been 19th Annual revellers - dictating caution and a wide berth!
We had riddeen mostly through nice sunshine - warm to be sure, but not sweltering hot. As we neared the south shore of Lake Superior, suddenly the temperature dcropped dramatically, to the exptent that we stopped and put on extral layers. The lake was foggy and cold looking - took a picture of sand dunes and foggy nothingness behind.
Tomorrow on to Duluth.
A postscript: today was Jo-Ann's and my 33rd wedding anniversary. She spent the day with son Patrick and his partner, Cara, in Victoria, picking out paint colours for their new home, and then getting at the actual painting. Earlier in the day when we stopped for lunch in the U.S. side of Sault Ste Marie, I saw a sign that I had to capture. Jo-Ann won't be happy that I included it in the blog, but it is an oblique way from this unfortunate distance of expressing my deep gratitude for 33 years of "experiencing" (to quote the sign) Jo-Ann.
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