The Open Road Calls.

London, Ontario - Since buying a motor- cycle, and subs- equently seeing the movie One Week (which contains a pretty good Canadian soundtrack, I might add), I have been fidgety to set out on the road for a substantial bike trip.

Unleash the freedom of two wheels: take pictures in front of the "world's-largest" everything. Stop at every fifth Tim Horton's. Finally see a moose in the wild – from a distance. Pull up to a scruffy diner – try the meatloaf. Count the trees – and lose count, time and time again. Reminisce about how nice it was to have a map or a GPS beside me – then remember it's about the journey. Whine about having a sore rear end – and have nobody there to hear it. Eat seafood. Visit family.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

Pending developments with Hurricane Bill, which currently has the province in its sights, my headlight should be pointed toward Nova Scotia in a week's time. It's a drive I've done before by car, but will be the farthest I've gone by motorcycle. By a lot. It's a challenge I welcome, albeit with a healthy degree of trepidation. I may also ride the Cabot Trail, which comes highly recommended, and potentially return through Vermont – which, strangely, given the extent of my travel through the US, is the northernmost state I have yet to visit.

Vroom, vroom.