A special friend, Ivan
Bathurst, New Brunswick
August 12, 2005

We have exited Quebec with no outstanding warrants and entered New Brunswick, which is English for, "our roads are bumpier than theirs". Unfortunately, we had to leave two couples behind, the Sullivans and the Carligs, because Jims' Suburban rear axle deep-sixed in Gaspe'. We're hopeful that in six to ten days, after a five grand dent in the Sullivan Charitable Trust Fund, they will rejoin us.

Other missteps to date:
A) Bill Bucher severely sprained his ankle, backing down his trailer
step, a distance of nine inches.
B) Carl Nunn threatened to pass a kidney stone.
C) Our water pump (original from 1987) failed and required
the delicate "Cribb's Transplant" procedure.


Wilma Tague in awe. A very private
moment.



The object of her affection flies overhead.









D) Bill Turner's fridge, a Dometic, less than a month old, crashed and burned.
E) Ralph Smith shredded the serpentine drive belt on his GMC yesterday.
Took three of us an hour to replace (Mr. Goodwrench..8 minutes). Then
20 miles later he blew a trailer tire at 60 mph on NB11. "Stuff" happens.










Quebec art in wood.
New Brunswick art in stainless steel.







During Ralph's fan belt fiasco, a curious incident, unique to the travel experience, occurred on scenic NB highway 134. We had passed a man slowly walking a three wheel wagon, pneumatic tired, up a steep hill. Piled high with trash bags full of recyclables, a large rear sign stated; "Danger-Wide Load". Before we could replace the Smiths' belt, "Ivan" had caught up to us. About forty years old, mentally challenged, he was both charming and polite. He eagerly donned a highway worker style fluorescent vest and offered assistance.

My Lynn, so sweet that I'm suspicious she is free-basing splenda , walked along side Ivan, took his picture, gave him an ice cold aquafina and a "toonie", and learned that he worked 6 to 7 hours a day and averaged $10,000 a year just from, to his amazement, what people were willingly throwing away. He was, paradoxically, a very proud yet sad man. Someone who had never received a hallmark card. He was also nice to women, especially pretty women, whom he liked to refer to as 'cupcakes'.

As he walked on, he turned back to Lynn, smiled, thanked her for her thoughtfulness, and said, "goodbye, cupcake".

The previous evening we had a lobster boil (yummy) followed by a driver's meeting. Looking over the assembly of the red-faced and silver-tongued, the soon-to-be thrombotic, and the recently re-valved, women whose hair color matches their husbands' fillings, and men who are wearing the same outfit they wore the weekend after they retired, I'm reminded of children posing as adults. Smiling and slightly damp, we have finished our day 28 of "connecting the dots".

Tonight in the trailer, as I slowly surrended to the arms of Morpheus, I wished there were more Ivans in the world. Then as the rain airbrushed our cookie tin roof, I fell asleep with cupcake.