Well, that didn't last long. Welcome to the YOU-nighted States of 'Merica

Day 33: Kamouraska, Quebec    

Distance traveled: 353.4 km

Cumulative distance: 5,715.3 km

Temperature range: 9 - 14

Maximum speed: 118 kph

It was a fresh, frosty morning today. There was a pretty hard frost showing on the cars in the parking lot and on the grass surrounding the hotel. I thought for sure we would be turning on the electric heat to our liners this morning but by the time we went down to the bike after 10:00 (we took our time, hoping for it to warm up), the sun was warming up the air and we decided our extra layers would be sufficient for the first while and we could decide later to break out the wiring harnesses to get heat onto our bodies if necessary.

That's genuine frost on the grass.

We were in no real rush and we had a mind to take all back roads to today's destination, which I knew very little about. Nan was asking me if the hotel was in a town (where we could get dinner and a bottle of wine) but I couldn't say with confidence what amenitites would be available.  I knew off the top of my head that it was on the St. Lawrence but whether there would be a restaurant within walking distance remained to be seen. At times, this has proven a challenge on this trip and we have discussed the merits of reviewing restaurants around hotel selections. So far, it hasn't happened.

Today was amongst the prettiest rides we have had on this entire trip. Not only are the leaves gorgeous but the little two lane - one line roads weaved through pristine countryside. Unlike back home where farms are just endless miles of fields, farms here are interspersed with little valleys, creeks and forests. And newly sprouted Christmas trees. Very picturesque.

I have the map setting on "Avoid highways". Google Maps doesn't have a problem there but what the Android version does NOT do is mention that a planned route crosses an international border.  My recollection of route planning on my desktop computer is that there will be a big, red flag - especially these days - when the route goes into the United States. So, we're bombing down the road and make a left turn on Line Road, which Google Maps helpfully informs me has 1.9 km of gravel.  And the gravel starts as soon as we turn off the "main" road. But the gravel is not onerous - it is well packed and not very dusty so we don't see an issue with it. At 1.8 km, the road makes an S-turn down a little forested gully and we come across a Government of Canada trailer and I think "wow there is a national park out here". Stupid. The road descends further and all of a sudden, we are at a US border crossing. Holy guacamole only yesterday I said "over my dead body" and all of a sudden, I hear harp music.

I realize my faux pas and I immediately try to turn the bike around in a very tiny space. On gravel. A border guard rushes out and I say that I realize we have made a mistake and we are turning around. He said "you're already in the United States, so we have to process you" Process us? You mean, detain us, deny us our rights, no due process, inspect our social media posts, throw us into the slammer then ship us off to Ecuador? I'm quietly relieved we are clearly a straight couple and not a visible minority. And speak English.

However, we are riding a motorcycle with a HOME MADE license plate. And obviously, we are not carrying our passports. I do tell him again it had not been our intention to enter the U.S. but he still wants to see both our drivers' licenses and the registration for the motorcycle, which I thankfully have on my phone. Unfortunately, I also have 5,000 files on my phone so it doesn't come up that quickly. And, I'm feeling a little nervous. Mainly about my social media posts. On this blog. While he is waiting, for some time, he asks if we have NEXUS cards. YES! Oh, except neither of us have ours with us. I've stashed mine until I think the U.S. is worthy of my hard earned dollars. Only Nan knows where she has stashed hers.

I produce the registration and he jots down the VIN of the bike, our address and compares the VIN on the bike with that on the registration and acquires our driver's licenses.He takes the information inside and is gone for a not uncomfortably long time, just enough for us to know they are running searches on us, then another guy comes out and they are very curious about the license plate. So we go through the whole ordeal, which fascinates them but they have never heard of Moncton so they are confused about where this happened. But not concerned. The fact of the matter is that they are pretty good natured, which is a relief because I figured they were sent here as purgatory. We are at a GRAVEL ROAD boarder crossing and there is NOTHING around but farmland and a few trees right at the crossing. Once we figure the risk of incarceration is low, we mention that this will make for good blog fodder so we ask for them to pose for a picture with the bike. They ask if we want to be in handcuffs. Ah, no thanks. But we did tell them about riding to Hyder and getting Hyderized. NOW they were interested! 

They tell us TWICE that since we have cleared customs, we can proceed if we want. No, that's fine thanks. We'll just stick to the original plan. I don't get into why we want to take the LONG way. 

One bullet dodged.

I turn the bike around and Nan walks back to the Canadian border. We have exited Canada so now we have to clear customs on the Canadian side. There are some worker bees there doing some noisy work on the Customs trailer. A friendly Canadian Customs officer comes out to process us. And she notices our HOME MADE license plate. Initially, we go through the whole story again only Officer McDonald wants to know the file number for the bike theft, the lost license plate file, DOB, address, VIN and matches it to the VIN sticker on the bike, the RCMP detachment where the theft was reported, the investigating officer's name, (unfortunately Officer Pierre was off duty) and the cats' names. Oh, and she graciously says if we need anything or need to use the washroom we can go inside. I ask if they have an espresso machine because I'm dying for a latte. No luck. 

Anyway, we are hanging around for quite a considerable time. Then Officer McDonald comes out and tells us that they are just waiting for the RCMP to call back so that the information we have provided can be verified. She adds that the records show the license plate was stolen. I was glad that I had made sure I crossed all the i's and dotted the t's, especially as it was quite a few hours after the fact that we had realized the license plate was missing and we had long since left Shediac at that point.

She goes back inside so we are just hanging out. It's actually a beautiful morning - not a cloud in the sky and as long as we are in the sunshine, it's not bad at all. But it is taking quite a long time. Eventually, she comes back out, apologizes for the delay and says that she is going to spring us and trust that everything is ok because we look really, really honest but she wants my phone number so that if there is a problem she can call me up and ream me out. But just as she writes down my phone number, her colleague calls her because the mounties are on the line. So we are cleared. I say that I am thankful for the diligence because if the bike had still been missing, I would have wanted this done. Maybe not to me but to somebody. We talk her into a picture and we're off after she remarks to be careful of our route because a lot of the back roads will lead to other border crossings. Once was blog fodder. Twice would have been a total pain in the azz.

Officer McDonald. Before the cuffs.

I was happy that nobody at either border crossing was overly worked up about the fact that we have a home made license plate. I have just assumed that sooner or later we would get stopped and it would at least give a police officer an opportunity to run the plate before pulling us over. Or maybe, someone has run our plate and just decided that they had bigger fish to fry.

We continued on, got on some slab for a short time then back on some two lane - three line highway. We stopped for lunch in a place called Perth-'Andover the baking and picked Mary's Lunchonette to eat. That name alone was enough to make me want to eat there but there was one other more "mainstream" restaurant close by and Nan instructs me to check it out because she thinks Mary's looks a little too 50's. Anyway, I check out the other and it is definitely mainstream so I tell her I think Mary's looks more interesting. It hasnt been all that long since breakfast - only a few hours - and what we really want is coffee so I order a turkey salad sandwhich and Nan orders a tuna salad sandwich. The filling was ok, nothing really special but the bread feels like it just came out of the overn. It had clearly been baked this morning. The coffee was really good, too. Mary also has some fine looking leather meringue pie in the larder and I am tempted, so I ask what is in the pie. I have made many a leather meringue so she is not going to fool me but I get the straight goods: the lemon comes from commercially produced plastic lemons but all the other ingrediants are genuine, like actual eggs.  Later when she asks me if I've left room for pie I tell her that my eyes say "yes" but my ass says "no".

I ask Mary what happens at Mary's Bake Shop. She says "I can't tell you. It's a small town." And leaves it at that.

It ends up being a fairly long afternoon, primarily because of my route finding skills earlier. About a half hour before we are to arrive at our destination we are riding through a little town and Nan spots what she thinks is a liquor store. She is thinking that if there is no wine store near where we are staying, we are going to be in a bad mood. it turns out to be a grocery store but we don't bother to check out if they sell wine or anything like that, and push on. 

We get to the town where the hotel is located and the town is really sweet. There are restaurants all over the place so this looks like a destination, not just OUR destination. We drop our stuff and walk to the nearest restaurant and because we don't have a reservation, have to sit at the bar, which, as you know, is fine with us. We have a great meal and three courses to boot. 

This is coppa, which our bartender is slicing.

Our bartender Jean.

This was Nan's starter.

                                              I forget what it was and she is asleep.

She is awake now. Scallop and parsnip puree.

Next time through, might have to stop for a cool one.

Nan loves her Hallowe'en stuff.

112 year old train station.