My husband left our morning bed Wednesday morning far earlier than me, intent on preparing a thermos of coffee and one of tea for our trip, and to begin loading up the truck. I did get up eventually, but that was to put on the bedside lamp and read a bit more of that fascinating book by Simon Winchester, Krakatoa. It was far, far too early to get up. My husband too made his way back to bed and we both fell asleep again until half-past eight.
Time to shower, for little Riley to do his duty, and while we busied ourselves with last-minute stuff, Riley had his breakfast. We did finally leave, at 10:00; no big hurry; we'd get there eventually. As we left we were exposed to an unusual heavy morning fog, but traffic was light and that was most acceptable. We did run into housing construction taking up the roadway in a new subdivision down close to the Mer Bleue, so we took an alternate route to get to Anderson Road by backtracking on Innes and finally accessed the 417.
Again not much traffic, and plenty of eye candy with the forest on either side of the highway well into autumn, showing blazes of bright red, golds, yellow, and lime greens. I discovered that the sun glasses I was using were literally 'rose coloured'; its colour tincture turned everything a bright rosy hue. Bit of a cheat, that.
Not much traffic again, and plenty to see with vultures wheeling overhead, geese rising in formation from the Ottawa River, not yet prepared to leave for Southern climes, but getting to that point. The highway forest ablaze with scarlet of the sumacs and bright red maples, yellow birch, providing a pleasing backdrop to our trip. And, in a sense, so did the audio book my husband had selected for us to listen to on our way to New Hampshire: Oliver Sacks's "The Mind's Eye".
Driving through Montreal wasn't at all as nasty as it often turns out to be. A little slow, but passable, and before we knew it, we were through. Same for the border crossing when we eventually reached it. Only one vehicle before ours. The usual interrogatory style was dispensed with on this occasion, and we were swiftly waved through. A mile up from there we stopped at the Vermont rest stop we usually use, to get a break from driving, walk about a bit, exercise Riley, and have a late brunch.
When we reached the Franklin Notch, the roads there were deserted as well. By then though, the fog had followed us for a while -- or, more correctly, we had followed it -- the skies had cleared and the sun was fully out. White cloud-puffs stuck themselves to the mountain peaks as they so often do. And viewing those peaks it's hard to realize we once climbed them all. From there it took no time to arrive at our destination, though it was almost 5:00 pm.
Our hosts, as genial as ever, it was good to see the place, to speak with them, and then finally to settle in to the cottage, unpacking and preparing for our stay. They laughed when they informed us that a photograph of us was being featured on their new web site. In fact, it appears as well on their new brochure; a smiling pair of happy clients.
Our unpacking completed, we set off to do the food shopping at the Hannaford's supermarket a few miles' distant. Riley had to put up with being fed his dinner at 7:00, but he was a good little scout about the inconvenience. A perfect little travel companion, and a little sweetheart.
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