End of the Journey

April 30, 2015

This morning we woke up…well I woke up squeezed into a small strip of bed. After extricating myself from the covers, I went downstairs and had the last of the wafflewiches and coffee. With the car packed up we began our journey back to Ontario.  After stopping to let a duck cross the road.

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Just a duck crossing the street. No big deal.

And then changed direction and headed to downtown Montreal for Schwartz’s smoked meat. See as I was driving I could just hear my brother’s voice in my ear about not bringing back smoked meat. So I stopped, grabbed a few packs of meat, took the dogs for a short stroll around downtown Montreal and THEN we began the trip back home.

A few quick breaks at OnRoute stops and we delivered the purchased products to my brother and dad.  I took the opportunity to let Piper play with his fiance’s Great Dane while Jack did all he could to stop them, and then we were back on the road home.

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Piper and cousin Athena.

On Tuesday April 21 in the wee hours of the morning we left home and on Thursday April 30 at 7:00 pm we returned.

We had set off with no destination and no route planned. Yet over the course of 5426.9 km we had seen and done so much:

I learned that the strength of the radio signal is in direct proportion with how much you like the station. If you hit scan often enough , you WILL hear Maroon 5’s “Animal”, Pink Flloyd’s “Brick in the Wall”, or Nirvana’s “Heart Shaped Box” a few times per day. You will also find a station called The Edge or Mix or Kiss.
I discussed universal health care in an ice cream shop in the Catskills and what a turtle sees in the oceans before it hits Hawaii over a breakfast buffet in Strasborg. We were out-polited by so many people which totally destroyed the “rude American” stereotype.
We met people who literally did not know what was past the next town.
We learned that not every two star hotel is created equal.
Chain restaurants are always open but that’s because they lack character and soul.
We hiked through rain thinking “we can’t possibly get any wetter” and then learned that yes in fact we could.
We shared pancakes and bacon as snow whitened our heads and shrimp as we breathed in the briny scent of the Atlantic Ocean.
We watched the sun set on the mountains and watched clouds broiling over the waves.
We learned that you don’t have to plan every move before you make it.
People thought I was crazy, either because I was a woman travelling alone or because I had no destination in mind. But for every person telling me I was crazy I had just as many tell me it was amazing.
Could the trip have been more efficient? You bet.
But just going where the wind blew was the most freeing and therapeutic thing I have felt in a long time.
I don’t know what I was expecting with this trip. Whether some great truths of the universe would be revealed or a spiritual awakening.
I did find something. While sitting on a rock overlooking the mountains I felt a calm that I did not realize was missing. It was something that could not be found in book nor building. Something that could not be given by another. Something I had not known until I did; if that makes any sense.
I found a sticker in a gift shop that said “not everyone who wanders is lost” which I learned was a quote from “The Lord of The Rings”. I have to agree for sometimes it is in the wandering that we truly find who we are, not because we are lost but because we don’t know where we are or where we need to be. We find a strength we did not know existed or peace or love or whatever you seek it is always within you waiting to be found. Maybe it is best heard in the wind through the trees or off the ocean in the sounds of the gulls or the never-ending cityscape. There is something in the road beneath moving tires and landscape rushing by windows and terrain moving underfoot that is healing.
And I hope that by bringing you with us, dear reader, you may have a chance to experience it with us.

I hope you continue to journey along beside us.  There are still so many stories to tell.

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A quick stop on the side of the river.

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