Alright. Left Chatham at 9:30 this morning. Internet was down since the night before, so I couldn’t print my maps out. Luckily I had the ol’ short-term memory up and running. Made a wrong turn out of my neighbourhood. Missed the on-ramp. Got lost in Windsor looking for a friend’s house. (Who needs maps, right?). Luckily I figured out Windsor and was given an awesome parting gift (Thanks MD!): Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast. I will read it. It will be good. Then I will sleep.
I think I ruined the border guard’s day.
"Where you headed?"
"Movin’ to Vancouver actually."
"Do you have some sort of status…?"
"Well you realize that you can’t just move here, right?"
"Ohhh, Vancouver, Washington! Nah, I’m going back to the motherland. Just taking the scenic route."
"Do you have any proof of your housing there?"
"Nope, I’m hotel-ing it. Can’t sign a lease until I see the places, right?"
"Okayyy. Do you have your proof of enrollment?" (<-he was American)
"Well I haven’t actually applied yet."
"So how do I know that you’re actually moving!? You’re supposed to have proof of this stuff. We have immigration issues here."
"You make a good point. And yes you do. I guess I have an email on my phone from a landlord that wants to rent a place…?"
(fiddles with phone for a bit)
"Hmm. Alright, have a good time."
Got to the hotel in St. Louis, MO (seemed like a good place) around 9 tonight and grabbed dinner. Two grilled chicken wraps, in case everyone forgets who I am. Obviously I picked the most direct route to Vancouver, so there’s no need to explain why I’m here. Think I can make it to Colorado tomorrow? There’ll be a foot and a half of snow waiting for my toboggan of a Toyota. Board is prepped. Hamstring limber. Discs aligned. We’ll see where the day takes me. I’ll probably chase the mercury a little further before I go purely west. And I have until the 9th to get to Alberta. Maybe I’ll get a haircut? The nostrils are getting a little weedy; couldn’t hurt.
Dear Andrew Baker,
I saw a sleazy magician in the lobby tonight turning tricks.