It's a route we could each probably drive with our eyes closed, which now that I think of it, might be the perfect antidote to combat its unnerving but admittedly-scenic tediousness: the 401 east to Highway 37 at Belleville, then exit to 7 for a brief jaunt to 41, all the way to my folks' house in Pembroke, Ontario, deep in the heart of The Ottawa Valley.After nearly two decades of cursing the 'shawa bottleneck, the steady onslaught of 18-wheelers that allow me to experience the frissons of Spielberg's "Duel", and obliviot Durham County 
rubberneckers (people, it's just a guy with a flat...and CAA's probably got it covered...), I still get white-knuckled at the steering wheel as I must snake along the narrow roads of Land O' Lakes country, have yet to figure out the mystery behind the existence of the curiously tiny town of Khartum (you can nearly throw a stone from one end of the city limits to the other), and always silently correct the signage at Cobourg trumpeting "The World's Biggest Apple" (it is, of course, a "replica" of an apple--and I suspect possibly not the world's largest...but I digress). But with twin iPods fully-loaded with cool stuff and choice classics, warmer-than-usual temps (30 degrees C--whew), and sparse traffic, 'twas an enjoyable endeavour indeed-y.
rubberneckers (people, it's just a guy with a flat...and CAA's probably got it covered...), I still get white-knuckled at the steering wheel as I must snake along the narrow roads of Land O' Lakes country, have yet to figure out the mystery behind the existence of the curiously tiny town of Khartum (you can nearly throw a stone from one end of the city limits to the other), and always silently correct the signage at Cobourg trumpeting "The World's Biggest Apple" (it is, of course, a "replica" of an apple--and I suspect possibly not the world's largest...but I digress). But with twin iPods fully-loaded with cool stuff and choice classics, warmer-than-usual temps (30 degrees C--whew), and sparse traffic, 'twas an enjoyable endeavour indeed-y. Lidia, I'm sure, was elated that I took the wheel for the entire trip (although it might have been because my pasty white thighs were glued to the melting car seat), instead of the usual switcheroo at Tweed (where the fire hydrants are whimsically painted--pirates, soldiers, and dalmations, oh my!--with the one in front of the Tim Horton's notably sporting the colours of the Toronto Maple Leafs. Funny, this far north, you'd think it'd be the Sens...).
Ordinarily, we confined this 5-6 hour sojourn to Canada Day (and, sometimes, Simcoe Day), but this time we had to manufacture a long weekend as my cousin Ashton--now, amazingly, 24 years young--was tying the knot on the afternoon of Saturday, June 4, 2008 at 3PM.
It was great to see Ash again, whom I bounced on my knee when he was just a toddler, and did my best to corrupt during his childhood and teen years with my insidious influences. Plus, his sisters Kayla and Melanie, as well as my folks, grandmother, sister and her family (whew)--I believe this was my nephew and niece's first encounter with "The Bird Dance". Despite having few spare hours, I managed to pick up a cheapie HD camcorder at Canadian Tire, and ran into a high school pal, although not necessarily in that order...We left early Sunday morning to speed to ensure making it back on time for the R.E.M. concert at the Molson Amphitheatre. Pity the ride back on the flip side didn't even out my sunburn--as of this writing, I'm still baked lobster red on the left only--just like Richard Dreyfuss in "Close Encounters Of The Third Kind" (and that's two Spielberg references in a single email...).
No comments:
Post a Comment