They're Baaaack!

Those of you who of a similar vintage as I ... aka silver dusted tops ... will recall child actress Heather O'Rourke's memorable utterance, "They're baaaack!" from the iconic horror film of 1982, POLTERGEIST. 

Well, the missus, the momma and I arrived back in Simcoe safe and sound following our 2522 km trip home from our adopted Floridian home, but the voyage was not without it's excitement thanks to hotel issues, howling mountain winds, meals on the road, and the sheer volume of hours being wary of those others sharing the roads with us.

All of that is not a Don't cry for us Argentina ploy, but I thought I'd share some of the things lingering in my short term memory following our wonderful night's rest in our own bed last night ... a TREAT, if I must say! 

Grumble #1

Being inherently cheap, I chose to use up our AirMiles on hotel rooms for the trip home, and partially because I didn't pay as close attention as I should have, but mostly due to some sneakiness on behalf of TriVaGo, I made a booking for the first night of travel using the wrong date. When I used the AirMiles app to be able to use our accumulated miles, the choice got hijacked by TriVaGo meaning that although they accepted the miles, modifications were banned, so we were stuck with that date. The resulting fracas meant that we had to modify our departure plans by a day, the consequences of which would be driving on a Sunday, and consequently on a Monday+Tuesday too, risking construction + congestion delays.

Day one's travels featured a very pleasant and sunny drive for 9.5 hours through the length of Florida, most of Georgia, and parts of South Carolina before arriving at our Hampton Inn in Orangeburg. For the past few years, my mom has chosen a route through Florida that included entering it via I 95 south to Jacksonville, then I 10 west to Lake City, before I 75 south to Naples. Many moons ago, she ventured a chance on I 301 because its path was diagonally southwest from Jacksonville to Ocala, but she found that it was stop 'n go through a variety of little towns. Since I was the pilot for day one's adventures, I persuaded her to give it another try, and much to our delight, the road upgrades and heightened speed limits meant that it was both pleasant and time-saving. Methinks it will become my own personal route-of-choice in the future.

Grumble #2

While the check-in at the Hampton Inn - Orangeburg was painless, I discovered that our rooms were no where near each other, and since ours was on the ground floor, I chose to swap for my mother's fourth floor room, reasoning that it would be much easier for her. Well, that stroke of kindness resulted in her inheriting a malfunctioning TV and a delay in turning in for the night as the Hampton staff bumbled their way through the repairs. Complaints of the inconvenience fell on deaf ears so CURSE YOU Hampton Inn!

Day two's 9-hour travels through South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania were anticipated to be filled with picturesque mountain vistas if the weather cooperated, and despite the gloomy overcast of the 7:00 am Orangeburg start, we were thrilled by the blue sunny skies all the way to Washington, Pennsylvania. The only glitch of the day was the kick-up of winds in West Virginia, resulting in a little Rock 'n Roll through the mountains at the day's end, and some white-knuckle co-pilot experiences. We encountered some early morning traffic snarls around Columbia, SC, thanks to construction on the beginning of I 77 but our consternation was short-lived as the delays meant that we totally missed rush hour in Charlotte, NC. 

Thank Heaven for little miracles, as the saying goes.

Day three's escapades were tempered by the potential for rush hour bedlam around Pittsburgh so we opted to make an early get-away in hopes of avoiding it, and we quite pleased with ourselves as we breezed through Pittsburgh's rolling hills, the turnpike to Erie, the throughway to Buffalo, before the border crossing at Lewiston. 

Grumble #3 ... sort of

Being a cadre of rule-followers, we were astutely aware of the re-entry rules of Canada's Border Patrol, so we were well armed with our declaration dollar amounts and how many cheap(er) bottles of Yankee booze we could bring with us. Three adults = three bottles, right? The lure of taking a risk of additional hootch was enticing, but we caved and played it safe. Our arrival at the crossing was a cumulative 30 sec, our very pleasant guard apparently not giving any (bleep)s about the rules. He didn't even ask about how much we spent!

Drat, Drat and Double Drat!

We made the final leg of the trip from Lewiston, NY, to Barrie without a hitch, and upon arrival at my mom's condo, we were greeted with a cloudless sky illuminating the still frozen surface of Kempenfelt Bay in true Canadian spring time beauty. Even though the LOOOONG trip is self-imposed, the combination of 24 hours of sitting behind the wheel, the restaurant food (Can you say Cracker Barrel multiple times?), sleeping in hotel beds, and the strain-filled vigil for crazy drivers who blatantly ignore speed limits and other's welfare takes its toll on us, resulting in a weary early-to-bed as the day's end approached. 

Now, if some very kind individual could please do something about that dagnabbit white crap falling from the skies today! THAT was not supposed to happen! How can I bike in that?

Yes, I know that it's Canada 

... and March 

... and climate change .

.. and normal'ish.

I don't have to like it!