125.3 km td 6,447.9 km
Province #7 today, yet another milestone to add to our tally. Our first sight is not a welcome sign but an Irving gas station, only fitting as this family owns much of the province. Northern NB is still very francophone, though it is hard to tell Quebecois from Acadian. It isn't until 60 km south of the border that we start seeing the odd english sign, and hearing the English language. Our camp at Grand Falls overlooks a spectacular gorge as the mighty St John river drops in elevation. Tomorrow will be potato country.
133.6 km td 6,581.5 km
Our friendly RV camp neighbours are so shocked by our endeavour that they insist on cooking us a wonderful breakfast.
The morning on the road is down snarly dog alley; there must have been a sale on german shepherds because every trailer has one. We are barked at constantly by tied-up dogs, and are chased no less than six times, one rugrat so close I give him a water bottle shower.
We cruise up and down the St. John valley, stopping for lunch at a local fair to watch horse pulling and the local kids tempt fate on a few small decrepid rides.
Our next stop is at the worlds longest covered bridge- 360 metres and a proud town. We are eventually scared off by a bus load of Quebec tourists.
At Woodstock I finally take in a movie at the local cinema- it only took nine weeks to have the stars aligned for this pastime that I thought would be a common occurrence.
164.7 km td 6,865.4 km
We are up at dawn hoping for a big day before the rains come tomorrow from the remains of hurricane Francis. The day is strangely hot, humid, cloudy, and still- a weather change in waiting. The mosquitos are vicious, those small summer hatchlings that bite quickly and quietly. We learn this the hard way with four flat tires, three from a hard-to-find shard of glass in my rear tire, and a fourth was a shotgun-sounding explosion due to a fault in a tire.
The rains are with us for the day. We find all kinds of distractions to make this shorter distance ride turn into an all day affair; Two more flat tires in the morning, an obligatory coffee stop at "Timmy's", a fried clam and fries feast (my stomach still cringes), our first sighting of the Atlantic ocean, a giant lobster, and endless rainy headwinds. We find shelter for the night in a covered area and dry out clothing by the fire. The Confederation bridge (simply 'the bridge' in these parts) looms on the horizon, a seemingly endless line of bridge deck going out into the ocean.
