July 3^rd, 2025: Day Twenty-Nine

Distance Travelled: 454KM
Distance From Home: 4411KM
Days in Hotels VS Campgrounds VS Guest: 12/13/3

Dartmouth, Nova Scotia –
Fredericton, New Brunswick

My alarm went off at 5:30AM, set to play Megadeth because why not. Being was packed and out the door within an hour, I was doing a pretty good clip for a while until I saw a dead deer on the side of the road and made the smart choice to slow down and move into the right lane.

I got tired fast. Today I was supposed to decide if I was going all the way to Quebec City or stop halfway in Fredericton. My mood was sort of in the toilet, so when I saw a sign for the “Magnetic Hill”, an attraction I read about in a book: The Drive Across Canada by Mark Richardson, I wasn’t sure if I’d stop for it. Essentially if you stop at a certain spot, put your car in neutral, it will appear as though you’re being pulled uphill by some invisible magnetic force. I almost said no, fuck it, I should keep going but I forced myself. After getting turned around a bit I found it, and there was a stop sign and set of instructions. Basically, drive to a white post, put it in neutral and take your foot off the break. It really did feel like I was driving down a small hill to this white post. The optical illusion was very convincing, so when I put it in neutral I was expecting a slow, gradual drift but I damn near went 10KPH backwards and when I got to the initial starting point a couple in a car asked me if I had it in reverse due to how fast I was going, and when I finished a second time we both remarked about how bat shit crazy it seemed.

There was a whole center with a gift shop, but it wasn’t due open for 15 minutes. Worth the wait. In the interim I got some duck feed from a dispenser with a quarter and tossed some at the ducks. They were completely unimpressed.

I was greeted by the gift shop worker who assured me that 1. She’d open up right away, and 2. She just fed the ducks breakfast and that’s probably why they didn’t take to my offerings. I said I wanted my quarter back and she chuckled.

In the gift shop I managed to find a New Brunswick sticker, and one for the Magnetic Hill attraction. This was breaking my sort of, kind of, strict (but not anymore) rule for just having national parks (and a ferry ride) on the one side of my car, but I figured fuck it. My car my rules.

Though I was still tired I was on my way with a new sense of vigor, and motivation to see more of what New Brunswick had to offer. Good thing too because even though I was steeled mentally I was drifting physically.

I arrived in Fredericton and went to The Skyline Motel. I had marked them on my booking.com account because of good ratings and an even better rate. After three nights in a motel with outlets that weren’t mounted to the wall, floorboards that were coming apart, a shower that made a squeal when it ran and a bed that sank so much it made it a task just to get out of it, I was looking forward to something at least half as bad.

After a chat with the front desk clerk, a psychology student and photography enthusiast, I was pleasantly surprised to discover no security deposit, a clean room on the main floor, and dedicated parking, so no fighting with others for a good spot when loading and unloading.

It was hot. 28C and felt like 34C when I arrived, and I opted to stay in until it cooled down, grabbed a few slices of pizza at the store attached, ate them and promptly passed out. When I awoke about an hour later, and checked the weather app, the heat warning had turned into a thunderstorm warning. Jesus Christ New Brunswick!

I opened the window, turned off the air conditioner, and sat on the bed while holding Korbow (my walking stick), and feeling for its imperfections and the places I insufficiently sanded down, thinking about how I was going to make it better. I also started a new notebook on my Kindle Scribe and outlined some of the upgrades I wanted to make to the Kryptatron (2020 Forester) when I got back and through the end of the year into the next.

The Garrison District was the area of town I wanted to explore, with old buildings. It was supposed to be a sight to see, and upon a little research, I discovered on Thursdays they have a night market.

Once the rain has sufficiently settled, I grabbed my Urban Explore Shimoda, to ensure water resistance and started searching for the rain cover. I looked everywhere in that thing and could not find it. The cover for the other bag was too big, and I did a quick Google search…it does have some weather resistance on its own, so I braved it without. How could I be stupid to leave that cover at home I’ll never know.

When I arrived, a few vendors were packing it in, not a good sign. My first stop was Dynaura Creations. I was greeted and complimented on my hat. My crusher outback tends to attract a lot of attention in the west coast, and it has garnered that much more in the east. I put it away for a bit in Toronto when I got some weird looks but ultimately, I remembered a quote from Captain Jean-Luc Picard in the pilot episode. “If we’re going to be damned, let’s be damned for who we are.” It is a sweet hat, and I have owned three from the same company. The latest being a black one bought direct from the website.

After browsing I moved on and noticed there were a lot of food trucks but not so much on the artsy stuff. I can imagine some of the arts and crafts would be sensitive to rainwater and had packed it in by now.

There was a live band and they were quite good. I captured a little video then started to wander off around town. A lot of stuff was already closed, but at this point in my adventure I need to keep the spending down. Little things here and there are fine, but I need to be vigilant in these last days of the trip.

With that, when I got back to the initial vendor I told him my story, and he picked a bracelet out for me. This gentleman was really nice, but I noticed he kept trying to guess people’s astrological signs and was wrong every time. Second and third guesses…wrong again, and when he did it to me, I ribbed him a bit for it, which he took good naturedly. The bracelet was a bit small, and he offered to make it larger. He just needed ten minutes to add beads and retie it. No problem, I was very thirsty, and went to a stand, got a ginger lemonade, paid five bucks cash, received my second hat compliment for the night, and promptly drank the thing in twenty seconds.

I continued my chat with the artisan on my return, told him about my trip, how long I’ve been on it and gave the usual “midlife crisis, existential stuff” reasoning, and he was shocked to learn I am 44. I do get that every so often.

With the market closing in fifteen minutes, I walked back to the car and drove to the motel. Got some junk food, and here I am.

Tomorrow: Quebec City for sure.

July 4^th, 2025: Day Thirty

Distance Travelled: 600+ KM
Distance From Home: 3863KM
Days in Hotels VS Campgrounds VS Guest: 13/13/3

Fredericton, New Brunswick –
Levis, Quebec

Today was a long day. Appropriate as its been a month and I am really starting to feel it. When you hear about bands not knowing what city they’re in or what day it is, that makes a lot of sense to me. I am straining to remember how my day started and then I’m like, oh yeah, I was in Fredericton.

I left my first item behind in the motel. Nothing serious, just my nasal spray. I would also forget to take my meds today. I’ll live.

With Starbucks in cup holder, I set out for Quebec City. I was really looking forward to this as it has a very European feel. The drive consisted of too many bathroom breaks. Sometimes I seem to just retain water then release it all at once. I think at one point I hit two exits in a row for an urgent go.

There was a fair amount of construction, especially after I hit Quebec, and there was a certain amount of dread returning to this Provence. The drivers are impatient and, on this day, day 30, I would end up break checking and giving the finger to more than one local. I’ve really had enough of tailgating, and it’s unreal how often it happens here. While walking out of the gas station, I almost got hit by an older woman with her car when she was pulling out. I gave her a look while saying “Jesus Fucking Christ.”

I think it translated.

To combat boredom, I listened to an audio book: The Last Colony. I asked Meta AI questions, and I played music.

I had no reservation for the campground, so when I arrived there was a lineup and my fingers were crossed. The woman who greeted me spoke English and I got bad news, worse news and awful news.

1. The ferry that shuttles people across the river to save time getting into town was on strike.
2. The public transit system was on strike.
3. There was a major music festival.

What this meant was that a normal thirty-minute drive was now almost ninety minutes. Still, I toughed it out and made it downtown….only to find there was absolutely no parking, the city was packed with festival goers, and did I mention I could not find anywhere to park?

Maybe it was too soon, but I gave up. There’s going outside your comfort zone, then there’s sodomizing it. I’m a month in. my reserves are low, and I can now look at a situation and say, “this is not worth my time.” I would hum and haw over what to do but ultimately when I got back, I decided that I’d rather catch it on the next trip or fly in during the off season.

One thing I told myself when I skipped the second leg of the Gaspe Peninsula is this trip is for me. It’s not for ticking boxes. “But you have to see such-and such-a-place!” No, I don’t have to see anything. The only view that matters is inward.

What amazes me is that before this trip started, I thought that the major cities would be the “main attraction” and now that I am thirty days in, it’s the national parks and attractions off the beaten path that I find I enjoy more. I mean it makes sense, as I have spent the last ten years trudging around Alberta, why wouldn’t I do that with the rest of the country?

Years ago, around 2015, I was shopping for a used car and came across a 1978 boat of a vehicle. A Lincoln something-or-other. I had this fantasy of popping in an 8 track and cruising in this post-hippy ashtray on wheels. But when it finally came time to test drive it, I was terrified of the thing. I hated how big it was, how it maneuvered. Jesus, the thing was all hood.

It was the same thing when I got this car, the 2020 Subaru Forester Sport. I thought I wanted a van, and test drove one, shrugged and thought, that was okay, I guess. Then I asked to see a Subie and before I even turned the ignition I fell in love.

That is what is happening here. I had this notion of being dressed all dapper, and doing next level street photography, with flashes I have yet to use on this trip mind you, and my worst experiences, minus those with family, have been in, or passing though the big cities.

For years I thought I was done with Calgary. That it had nothing left to give me and if and when I went back to school I would go to “the big city” and make a name for myself.

That’s not who I am. Not in the way I imagined anyway.

On this trip I have discovered who I’m not. I’m not those things I thought I was or wanted to be. Now that those unneeded elements are boiled off, I’m not sure what is left. Maybe I find that out on the way back…maybe I don’t until I am back.

Before the office closed, I picked up the typical staples. Hot dogs and buns, ketchup, marshmallows, and a couple of beers. This, after I saw that staff left some firewood and newspaper at my camp site. I figured. What the hell.

Except I don’t remember the last time I started a fire on my own and soon all the newspaper was gone. Am I going to fail at this too and sit in my car, eating cold hot dogs with tears in my eyes?

At one point I eyed my reserve can of gasoline and considered it, then thought better. What I did was use a Thunder Bay newspaper and guide that I was considering as trash anyway and that was barely enough to get it started. Also, the fire glowed green when I put the guide in, so I did my best not to breath that in.

4 hot dogs, 4 marshmallows, and 1 beer later and here I am.

I may feel different in the morning but man, I’m just ready to go home. I don’t know what else I can get out of this pilgrimage that I haven’t already. There’s a time when the wander luster lusts for wander, and a time when he longs for home.