Hearing "aboot" is never not funny 07/11

Today consisted of driving. A lot, a lot, of driving. 576 miles of it to be precise. That means I’ve now driven 3,202 miles in only 10 days.

I stopped today at one point to ask where I could find a donut shop, and the beady-eyed guy said in a stereotypical Canadian accent, “There’s one aboot 2 kilometers back that way.” I had to suppress a laugh that leaped into my throat. It goes to show, there’s a reason there are stereotypes.

I spent basically the entire journey on either King’s Highway 11 or 17. Almost the entire journey was going through absolutely gorgeous country. The road cut through mountains with jagged rocks showing through where they cut into the mountain to lay down the road. Sometimes the rocks would be 80 feet tall and jutted out in all different directions. They ranged in color from a light brown to jet black, with splashes of dark greens and blues sometimes as well. Just amazing sights.

However, where I saw beauty, others seemed to ad space. But not commercial ad space, more of a personal nature. Graffiti began to run rampant the closer I got to a town, but once I moved away from a town, the rocks were blank, as they should be. I can’t imagine the type of person who would just deface such natural beauty on a whim, just to let the world know that “Chris hearts Jenny” or that “Tinz waz here.” The more I saw, the more I hated it.

Further on down the road, I ran into Lake Superior. It was getting to be about 6 o’clock, with the sun beginning its downward journey. The many twists and turns in the road allowed for multiple views of the steep cliffs, small beaches, and alcoves all around the lake. The sun was glinting off the water, shooting sparkles across the lake making it seem as if the tips of the waves were studded with diamonds. Once sunset officially began, I pulled into one of the many, many scenic lookouts that were available and waited for darkness. The only clouds in the sky were right off the horizon, just were the sun was going down. It was like they were meant to be there to exaggerate the colors of the sunset, and to give the sky more hue.

The sun set into the water, illuminating the sky with pinks, purples, oranges, and reds. The wispy clouds seemed almost painted onto the sky. Because I was on a mountain top, whenever I saw the sun go down over the horizon, it still hadn’t finished lighting up the sky. The piece of atmosphere that it went down in stayed at a near twilight stage for the next 30 minutes, the colors becoming darker shades of their former selves. Just before it all went dark and the stars poked through the dark blanket of night, the clouds were and almost eerie shade of dark purple.

I looked up and was confronted with the brightest pinpricks of stars I’d ever seen, even brighter than in the mountains of Tennessee. In the city, where you have to work to see any stars at all, the big dipper is a happy thing to find. Once you find it, a shock of excitement goes through you, as you finally spot something you recognize. However, in the mountains (or I guess more technically hills) of Canada, the big dipper is almost a slap in the face. It’s hard to look at anything else. I stayed on the hood of my car as long as my cold toes could bear it before returning to the warmth of my vehicle. I can only take stargazing for so long whenever I’m doing it in 48 degree weather.

Oh, also, I came across a dead black bear in the middle of the highway. There were already 3 cars and an 18 wheeler parked near it and people gathered all around, so I didn't want to stop and cause more congestion. I didn't notice any of their front ends being damaged, so if someone did hit the bear, they must have run off. It was weird because that was the first time I'd ever seen road kill bigger than an armadillo, and also the first time I'd ever seen a bear in person.

Today made all the money I’m spending on gas and the time I’m spending in Canada worth all of it. I hope to see more days like this one, and think I will find them in the Rockies. But first, the roar of Niagara calls me closer. Goodnight.