august 18, 2002.

Day 2 of the Move-apalooza (the Moveable Beast phase).

This morning the three of us woke up incredibly rested. I think sleeping next to the tiny rapids really helps...and I can't discount the fact that we're sleeping in cool crispness rather than sweltering hotness. As I said to Miri, it's the best I've slept in a week. It's so nice to be on the road rather than packing-packing-packing.

Last night was a turning point for the caravan. The other three student teachers (Ikebana, Arch & Fred) began our trip in high spirits: we were all ready to go out and do this right. But by the time we reached Edmundston (4 pm), they were tired, red-faced, aching and angry. They had convinced us that they were ready to go to Rivière-du-Loup that day, but we soon realized that Edmunston was the end of the line for that particular group. The problems were many: first, that they were each riding alone in three vehicles (Arch took Miri for a few stretches, but the others didn't even offer to take her into their fortresses of solitude); second, that they seriously over-estimated their own capacity for long-range driving; third, that they weren't really interested in being with us or accepting our advice or help (they too were running short of gas money); fourth, that they weren't very good at communicating with each other without a lot of misunderstandings.

When we met them this morning, they were barely talking to us, and they announced that they would be driving straight through Quebec without stopping. We laughed rather ungraciously and predicted otherwise. This was ignored, and we lost track of them two hours into the drive when we pulled over for bathrooms and water.

The really funny thing is that we made it to Ontario ahead of them. Not only did we make better time, but were well-rested, well-fed and happy. We had taught each other several songs, we had made it through Montreal with a minimum of stress, and we were so comfortable with three bodies in the front seat that both Miri & I had managed a few naps. The three of them, when they showed up separately (they had lost each other coming across the St. Lawrence), were considerably worse off. And when they brushed off another offer to lend them gas money (my parents had wired us more than enough money), we decided that the caravan was over. We left that gas station as a parade unto ourselves, not a part of something bigger. And I think we were the better for it.

We hit cottage traffic on the way into the city, and we didn't get to our door until 9 p.m. Mount Olympus was a very welcome sight, all the more so because my parents had thoughtfully stocked the fridge and bathroom for us. All of the foods I missed in Nova Gothic were waiting for me, as well as some very nice furniture courtesy my brother's inability to make life decisions.

It's home already, and I feel welcomed.