Monday, June 30, 2008

Just Tired.

Back home.   Ahhhhh...

Arrived at shortly after 2:00 a.m. this morning, though, instead of the estimated mid-evening yesterday.  Seems that the best laid plans of mice and men...

I'd been trying to post something at the end of each day on this trip but I didn't quite feel like posting at three in the morning, and Saturday we stayed in a little cabin in an out-of-the-way motel in Edmundston with no internet access, so I have some catching up to do.

The wedding went well.  They chose a beautiful spot to tie the knot (or pour the sand in the container, as the case turned out to be) and couldn't have asked for better weather.  It was a nice, intimate ceremony that incorporated elements of both eastern and western religion, and, for the most part, the visiting Cook clan kept their irreverence to a minimum.  (Though the gentleman who officiated will forevermore be "Reverend Wal-Mart" in my mind...)  Kevin couldn't be happier, and that's what it's all about.

We had breakfast with Jen, enjoyed the ceremony and after the luncheon reception and a couple of family photos we dashed off for the Confederation Bridge - very cool for an engineering junkie like me.

Back in New Brunswick we were met by a surprising official route to Highway 2 (Note to Self: don't bother with the road signs, just look at the map and go with what makes sense, not what what the MoT have decided to post as a route), and rode over 50 kilometres of the Worst. Roads. Ever.  We were surprised to make it out unscathed.  (We thought.)

At this point, the trip was largely over, as we had selected the quickest way home: Four-way divided highways all the way.  New Brunswick 2 straight to Quebec 20/Ontario 401 all the way down to Whitby before cutting cross country on 12 north to 169 and 11 and home.

Kind of missed the drive along the river in southern New Brunswick, but north of Fredericton the new highway gets out of the endless forests and up onto the ridges overlooking the Saint John River Valley to provide some spectacular scenery.

We stayed just outside Edmundston, breakfasted at the Irving Big Stop (of course) just inside Quebec, got on the 20 in Rivier-du-Loup and started trekking west.

The St. Lawrence lowlands in Quebec are beautiful.

Losing a tire just outside Montreal, not so much.

We were coming into Montreal just after 3:00 in the afternoon, and I figured that we would be home no later than 9:00 at that point, and that was allowing for A) bad traffic and slowdowns through Montreal, B) a nice leisurely dinner somewhere, and C) a good number of get-out-and-stretch-our-legs/look-at-that/have-a-pee stops along the way.

About ten clicks south of where 20 makes that sharp left and travels along the south side of the river we suddenly noticed the vibration (which had gotten worse after those New Brunswick foot-deep potholes) that had been mysteriously plaguing us the whole trip had turned to a flapping, whumping sound.

Tam was driving, and got us across two lanes of typically insane Quebec traffic onto the shoulder.  At first we couldn't even see the problem - all the tires were still inflated and firm, so it wasn't a flat or a blowout like it felt like - but a closer inspection revealed that a large bulge on the inside of the back driver's-side tire had worn through and a large section of steel-belted radial tread was slapping around.  Another two minutes on it and the tire would have blown; who knows how that would have gone over in that traffic.

So out comes a week's worth of luggage for two couples onto the side of the highway, and the jack and the idiot-tire spare.

Changing it mere feet from the heavy racing traffic was a bit harrowing, let me tell you.

By the time we were done, the Quebec Highway Surveillance vehicle had showed up to put some extra flashing lights behind us.  Not that they slowed anyone down or even caused a soul to switch lanes and give us room to work.

After getting the doughnut installed and the wrecked tire back into the trunk (and all that luggage back in on top again) I went over and thanked him, and ask him where (on a Sunday afternoon in Montreal!) we could find a place to get a proper new tire installed.  (Friggin' idiot-tires.  Can't drive on them for long, and never fast, so we needed to buy a new full-sized one and get it on pronto if we were going to keep on schedule.)

"Parlez-vous Anglais?" I asked.

He held up his thumb and forefinger, measuring the tiniest bit of space between each.  So I went for the direct approach:  "Wal-Mart?"  Canadian Tire or Costco would have done just as well - I figured where there was one the others wouldn't be far away.  We'd just passed a whole box-store paradise about twenty klicks back: surely Montreal would have more.

He told me we'd find some on Hwy. 20 the way we were heading.

He also told me he wasn't from the area.  Shoulda paid more attention to that.

There wasn't a single place-that-might-have-a-tire-department-open-on-a-Sunday to be seen anywhere from 20 all the way through Montreal and its suburbs.  We finally spotted a Canadian Tire on Boulevard Cardinal-Legér in Pincourt at about quarter to five (did I mention that not only we were driving slow because we had an idiot-tire on, but we were held up by a ton of construction work in Montreal?), but by the time we reached the next open exit to turn around (more construction complications) we were practically to Ontario.

So we decided to cruise along at the 80 that the doughnut would allow until we got to the big Service Centre on the 401 just this side of the Quebec/Ontario border.  Someone there would be able to help, and language would be less of a problem.

Except that Service Centre is closed for renovations and "redevelopment".

So we stopped at the Ontario Information welcome centre, and had the young woman in there call the Wal-Mart in Cornwall (now only twenty klicks away or so) and see if they'd have someone who could help.  She assured us that they had assured her that the tire department was open 24-7 like the rest of the store.  Considering that it was now well after five that was most welcome news indeed.

When we arrived shortly after 6:00 we discovered that the tire department was indeed open.  You can buy as much vulcanized rubber as you want on a Sunday evening in Cornwall.  You just can't get it installed until the service department opens again Monday morning.

The best I can say about my conversation with the Tire & Lube manager at the Cornwall Wal-Mart was that he was astoundingly unhelpful.  Indeed, he flat out refused to do a single thing to help, or even sympathize.  It was essentially a "ha-ha, suckers" response where he managed for the most part to keep the "ha-ha" to himself.  For the most part.  Very professional of him.

So we went and grabbed dinner and called CAA to see if they knew anyone in the area who could help.

Turns out that Cornwall Tire, who we had been told by Mr. Helpful at Wally World would be closed and wouldn't be able to help anyway because the definitely don't do any kind of roadside assistance, let alone 24-7, were more than happy to help out.

In fact, their 24-7 roadside guy, who should have just come and did it where we were, took us over to the shop, opened it up (even though it was closed until Wednesday due to the long weekend) and did the work inside there so that we wouldn't have to stand around outside with our luggage in the rain.  He was above and beyond the call all the way.

Fed, 'tired', and relieved (it's amazing how much one helpful person with a good attitude can completely turn around a dark day), we headed home.

And as good as it is to be here, I can't wait to pack up the car and head off for some far away reach again soon.

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