Driving through Ontario takes a long time. Once you get out of the overcrowded southern dip from Ottawa to Toronto, there really isn’t a lot of population in a huge expanse of land. For months before we left and all along the way, people have asked what we thought of Ontario and talked about how it drags on and on and sucks the life out of you.
I am determined to enjoy it for what it has to offer. And I am. But it’s hard. Because we are now headed home and there is not a lot of action, we have to fight to not start thinking, “are we there yet?” It helps that we are on the bike and the weather has been decent and the roads are good, so we can just enjoy the ride for the ride.
We planned to camp in Wawa on Tuesday night and we were about an hour away when I started thinking that I really have nothing to blog about. Jimmy added some diversion to the day by occasionally making comments on the 2-way radio about the weather, about signs we passed etc. Typical dry Ziemer humour. He made one such comment as we drove along in the middle of nowhere. “Something’s wrong.” I waited for him to finish saying something like, “It’s been an hour and I still don’t have to go pee.” When suddenly there was a hiss and a bang and the truck and trailer in front of us disappeared in a black cloud of diesel smoke.
The tool box that takes up an enormous amount precious space under our bed suddenly looked so small and insignificant sitting on the road beside the truck with the hood up.
While they boys puttered under the hood I climbed up on the rock ledge at the side of the highway to build an inukshuk. Haven’t you always wondered who the heck stops in the middle of nowhere to climb up there and pile little rocks on top of each other? Now you know.
It didn’t take long for the guys to figure out that the turbo hose had blown of and they had it fixed in no time. Their egos were puffed up when we girls expressed our great admiration for their talent and intelligence. So they decided they’d do it again. And again.
By the time it blew for the 4th time, we were only about five kilometers further down the road. It was time to admit defeat and call the roadside assistance that came with the new Jayco trailer J & B had purchased. Cell service was touchy but we managed to make the appropriate calls without having to drive the bike into Wawa, 80 km away.
It took about 2 hours for help to arrive because the nearest tow truck capable of hauling a truck and trailer was in White River. Alb and I abandoned J&B at the side of the road to ride in and get a campsite while it was still light out.
It turns out it was just a stretched turbo hose and torque clamp. (or something like that) An easy fix. Jayco paid the tow bill. Ford covered the parts and labour. We paid a $100 deductible and got the oil changed at the same time, which we (the royal “we”) had been talking about doing for a few days. We were on the road by noon – pretty normal for us.
I am determined to enjoy it for what it has to offer. And I am. But it’s hard. Because we are now headed home and there is not a lot of action, we have to fight to not start thinking, “are we there yet?” It helps that we are on the bike and the weather has been decent and the roads are good, so we can just enjoy the ride for the ride.
We planned to camp in Wawa on Tuesday night and we were about an hour away when I started thinking that I really have nothing to blog about. Jimmy added some diversion to the day by occasionally making comments on the 2-way radio about the weather, about signs we passed etc. Typical dry Ziemer humour. He made one such comment as we drove along in the middle of nowhere. “Something’s wrong.” I waited for him to finish saying something like, “It’s been an hour and I still don’t have to go pee.” When suddenly there was a hiss and a bang and the truck and trailer in front of us disappeared in a black cloud of diesel smoke.
The tool box that takes up an enormous amount precious space under our bed suddenly looked so small and insignificant sitting on the road beside the truck with the hood up.
While they boys puttered under the hood I climbed up on the rock ledge at the side of the highway to build an inukshuk. Haven’t you always wondered who the heck stops in the middle of nowhere to climb up there and pile little rocks on top of each other? Now you know.
It didn’t take long for the guys to figure out that the turbo hose had blown of and they had it fixed in no time. Their egos were puffed up when we girls expressed our great admiration for their talent and intelligence. So they decided they’d do it again. And again.
By the time it blew for the 4th time, we were only about five kilometers further down the road. It was time to admit defeat and call the roadside assistance that came with the new Jayco trailer J & B had purchased. Cell service was touchy but we managed to make the appropriate calls without having to drive the bike into Wawa, 80 km away.
It took about 2 hours for help to arrive because the nearest tow truck capable of hauling a truck and trailer was in White River. Alb and I abandoned J&B at the side of the road to ride in and get a campsite while it was still light out.
It turns out it was just a stretched turbo hose and torque clamp. (or something like that) An easy fix. Jayco paid the tow bill. Ford covered the parts and labour. We paid a $100 deductible and got the oil changed at the same time, which we (the royal “we”) had been talking about doing for a few days. We were on the road by noon – pretty normal for us.
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