Days 12-16: Je suis Américain.

From Indiana to Canada and back to the states, days, cities, and fuel have gone by rapidly.

Day 12 – July 21

No one ever told me this, but it is expensive to get into Indiana. Within an hour of driving in the state, I had already handed over $9 to various tolls. I believe it was $7 just to cross over from Illinois. It’s a cracker jack how-do-you-do. I wonder how commuters from Indiana heading to Illinois feel about it or if there’s any sort of deal available for them. Regardless, the train seems like a much better option, anyway, as the first stretches of highway in the Hoosier State are in dire need up repair and maintenance.

Driving through was charming, I must admit. Gorgeous farmland. Blues skies for ages. Hardly any rude drivers. These things make me comfortable and content. I’ve never trekked through Indiana, but I’d be happy to spend some quality time here in the future.

I made my way to Terre Haute located about an hour west from Indianapolis to visit my friends Katie and Jeff. I must have been burned out from shooting around Chicago, because the only photo I took on this day was the counter at Footer’s Pizza, a delightful local joint that dishes out tasty pies as well as trading card and deck building games; truly a nerd’s paradise.

It was a quiet evening overall. Katie went with her friends to go see the new “Star Trek,” so Jeff and I got to spend the hours talking about everything from handheld radio operation to politics. After the seemingly non-stop action in Chicago, it was nice to have a quiet night in a peaceful town with a good friend. I also knew this was a good choice because I’d be making my way up to Ontario early the next morning.

Day 12 Stats:

Miles traveled: — 259

Miles traveled so far: 2,759

States visited:

1. Illinois
2. Indiana

Day 13 – July 22

6:30 a.m. – The road is calling. Indiana, Ohio, and Michigan pass by incredibly quickly. I chalk it up to the fact that I was getting lost in John Waters’ audiobook “Car Sick” wherein the author and amazing film director hitchhikes from his home in Baltimore, MD to his apartment in San Francisco. The book is terribly charming and I could not help but draw parallels between our cross-country adventures. I was driving East on I-70 where he had gone west. We’ve met similar, incredibly friendly folks on our journeys. I have a strange obsession with “Hairspray” (as well as “Cry Baby” and “Serial Mom”) and he’s somewhat over it. Okay, okay. Our trips weren’t that similar, but I imagined doing a similar trip myself, but it would never work. Many of the people who picked Mr. Waters up admitted to doing so only because they thought he looked like John Waters, passed him by, debated it, then when back to pick him up. I hardly doubt an indie band like Here We Go Magic would picked me up because I look somewhat like Nubuo Uematsu, creator of the music for the Final Fantasy Series (at least that’s what I’ve been told).

Before I knew it, I was at the Rainbow Bridge, waiting in a 30 minute line to get across the border. PRO-TIP: go to a smaller highway to cross into Canada, especially during the summer. You’ll thank me later.

Ten days before I left on my trip, I got my Oregon license plates, sadly signaling the end to my car’s visible Texan legacy. I regrettably had not memorized the new plate number. A mistake, indeed. When I got to the border crossing station, I was greeted by a stern looking man in uniform. The usual questions: where are you coming from? What’s the purpose of your visit? What’s the license plate number of the vehicle? Shit.

I’ve got the number documented in a note on my phone. I ask for a second to look it up, he allows me to do so. I recite it. Let the grilling begin.

“Take off your sunglasses. What are you bringing with you? Do you have any weapons or firearms? Where are you staying? Who with? Erin who? What’s her last name? How long are you staying? What were you arrested for?” WHAT? “Why are your fingerprints on record?” Probably just in case I was kidnapped as a child. I’ve never been arrested. Never gotten a traffic citation or ticket. I’ve only been near arrestees because I stocked vending machines at a police station in San Antonio. I’m near the point of freaking out and I don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not bringing anything illegal with me. I’ve done nothing wrong. Before anything gets worse, I’m free to go. Good grief. I won’t need that Tim Horton’s I was dreaming of because my heart is already pounding out of my chest. I immediately memorize my license plate number.

After spending some troublesome time attempting to read the small kilometer speed markings on my speedometer, I get comfortable with with driving 63 mph (approximately 55 km/h). Boy, Ontario looks a lot like northern Michigan. Weird.

I arrived in St. Catharine’s in time for a fine Canadian dinner with my friend Erin. On the menu: Poutine (Canada’s greatest gift to humanity other than Rush and Justin Trudeau), Moosehead Lager, and a Nanaimo bar. Now acquainted with Canadian cuisine, we roamed around the town, grabbed some coffee while playing Trivial Pursuit, and tracked down Pokemon with dozens of locals who were excitedly playing.

Once back in Erin’s halfway in the ground apartment (very reminiscent of my first rental in Savannah), I got acquainted with her incredibly fluffy and judgmental feline, Caprica. Meanwhile, we started watching “Stranger Things” (you should do the same…right now, seriously) and I imbibed a beer I brought from Minnesota called “Merica” because I had to be a jerk about my nationality somehow, even if it was in private.

Day 13 Stats:

Miles traveled: — 587

Miles traveled so far: 3,346

States visited:

1. Indiana
2. Ohio
3. Michigan

Provinces visited:

1. Ontario

Day 14 – July 23

The day began with a delicious maple brownie walnut topped donut from Beechwood Donuts. Absolutely delightful, I must say.

We then made our way to the charming (and well-to-do) town of Niagara-on-the-Lake settled right next to, you guessed it, Niagara Falls. We were there to see the premiere of an original “Alice in Wonderland” musical as part of the Shaw Festival. “Sweeny Todd” was sold out, so here we were. The production was technically impressive and the actors were sincere and memorable. The music, however, oh-ho, the music. Part of the charm of a musical is being able to walk away humming a tune or two. Finding a musical number you can’t shake off you. Weeks later, it’s an ear worm pestering you to no end. There was not one to be found here. Not one. Truly a shame. Better luck next time. Everything else, I must persist, was superb. The tickets were also very affordable, as anyone under 30 gets a discount. I’m happy to take advantage of this while I am able.

Afterwards, Erin and I drove over to Brock University where she is pursuing her master’s degree to utilize the school’s wi-fi and hunt for Pokemon. Yes, we were doing this quite a bit, but due to her lack of a data plan, Erin was more than happy to have someone accompany her and actually play the game. The campus was sprawling and impressive. There’s even a charming little pond and waterfall that was an amazing little site to chill out at.

Dinner was a delicious pizza made to taste like a Big Mac. While I haven’t had one in years, it was a damn fine slice of pie.

I’ll have to save Toronto for another visit. Make a whole Scott Pilgrim tour. Most of what held me up: not a lot of time allocated for a proper visit and fuel is expensive and sold by the liter (almost $1.50 more expensive per gallon than across the border). Another time, Toronto. You have been spared this time. St. Catharine’s: thank you for being so charming and kind. Also, thank you Canada for your delightful selection of craft beer, all dressed potato chips, and access to Kinder Eggs.

Day 14 Stats:

Miles traveled: — 30

Miles traveled so far: 3,376

Provinces visited:

1. Ontario

Day 15 – July 24

After sleeping in, I headed for the border crossing at Niagara Falls. Goodness, I could have spent an entire day just watching the watery border between these two countries. I, of course, did not take a photo since I was driving. I suck. You know what’s surprisingly easier than getting into Canada? Getting into America. You’re killing me, y’all. 

That aside, the Adirondack Mountains were absolutely gorgeous. Again, no photos. I made it to Plattsburgh in time to meet one of my best friends from undergrad, Jeff, and his wife, Melissa, for dinner at Geoffrey’s Pub. I had to have the fish and chips with a side of baked beans. Funnily enough, it’s one of the worst meals I’ve had on the trip, but it was even bad. Just…unremarkable? I dunno. That being said, the trip to the Stewart’s gas station and ice cream shop (a delightful combination, if there ever was one) was tasty. I had a small scoop of the Sweet & Salty Maple (it’s basically Canada in the northern area of NY state), but some of the other flavors had me giggling when I probably shouldn’t have.

Afterwards, we retired back to their place and while we talked for a bit, I got reacquainted with their cat, Boris, who welcomed me in the most loving way he knew how.

The day had been long for all of us, so we called it an early night. I couldn’t complain. I was just happy to be around some of my finest friends who I had not seen in years. Also, Montreal was calling and the next day would be exciting, for sure.

Day 15 Stats:

Miles traveled: — 405

Miles traveled so far: 3,781

States visited:

1. New York

Provinces visited:

1. Ontario

Day 16 – July 25

“Bonjour, hi,” is how we were greeted at the Quebec/New York border. I was given a quick run down of little Montreal-French phrases I might be hearing. “Bonjour, hello,” at the border. “Bienvenue,” was used for ‘welcome,’ instead of ‘you’re welcome.’ “Scuse,” was some sort of odd flirtation with Italian to say instead of “pardonnez-moi.” Jeff and Melissa filled me in on our ride up. After a much more chill line of questioning than my previous interactions with border patrol, we headed for Montreal.

Also, it was quickly made obvious to me that it’s not just some French writing or some French signage. No, Montreal is a truly European city not just because of it’s architecture and history, but it is French AF. No one ever quite explained this to me, not even my high school French teacher. Non merci, Madame Magill. Yes, that is probably the incorrect phrasing for “no thanks.”

Our first stop was the Jean Talon Market, a sprawling marketplace filled with so much fresh produce, I found myself longing for my kitchen. I would have taken home so much produce, it probably would have gone bad because I bought too much since it looked so good. It’s okay, I only sampled the fruit that was made available for free, but it was superb. Alright, I bought a bottle of ice cider. Why? What part of ice cider was not pleasing to the senses. More importantly, Melissa said it could not be passed up.

We then drove around Montreal. Even though Mont Royal was our destination, we took our time, taking in the sites, all the staircases outside apartment buildings instead of inside (how unfortunate the winters must be), and the beautiful street art (even if it was promotional for a French production of “Mary Poppins”).

We arrived at Mont Royal (Mont Royal…Montreal…get it? I never knew!) just as the storm clouds were gathering overhead. Melissa is expecting, so she didn’t join us on our trek up on mountain, but the view was gorgeous.

We were able to experience it all minutes before the rain began.

It was nearing three (my, how time flies when you’re attempting to use French, but everyone knows you’re American and they won’t let you even try), so a meal was definitely becoming more necessary by the minute. Down the street from this gorgeous church (where the statue of Jesus seems to say, “don’t worry gang, there’s enough J.C. to go around”) was a religious experience of a different sort: poutine. Yes, I’ve had poutine on this trip, but Poutineville was life. There were too many options, so I went with the Montrealer, which included fries topped with smoked meat (a Quebec food tradition), mushrooms, swiss cheese, and a fried pickle. De-freaking-licious. This was the heaviest meal I’ve had in ages. I didn’t even have dinner later that evening. Poutine, you are a mighty beast.

The drive back was surprisingly stormy given how light it had been raining previously, but we timed our leaving just as the storm began and ten minutes before five o’clock traffic hit. Montreal was asking us to leave and we obliged.

By the time we returned to Plattsburgh, the storms were nowhere in sight. Melissa took a much-needed nap (we all had the meat sweats, but her food coma hit hard) while Jeff and I headed out behind their place, sat in some Adirondacks (the chairs, not the mountains), and enjoyed the view of Lake Champlain.

We rounded out the night watching the DNC on CNN and PBS, discussing the future of our country and politics in general. I’ll spare you the details, but it wasn’t too upsetting. We find optimism and the bright side where we can.

Day 16 Stats:

Miles traveled: — I didn’t drive. Ah-ha!

Miles traveled so far: 3,781

States visited:

1. New York

Provinces visited:

1. Quebec

Next time: Vermont, Connecticut, New York: Mercy!