Adios, Peru.

London, Ontario – After nine days, six flights, two trains and more than 12,000 kilometres over two continents, Team Esperanza has completed its service learning activities in Urubamba, Peru – three months later than anticipated.

It was the team’s second attempt, following February’s foiled foray that left us stymied at the border because of four inches of snow in Atlanta. If we hadn’t made it, we wouldn’t have had the tremendous opportunity to partner with two great organizations: Nexos Voluntarios and Villa Marcello school.

John wouldn’t have consumed 26 Inca Kolas, nor would Ellie and Cassandra F. have thrown back 10 litres of peach nectar – even posing with two boxes of it atop Waynapicchu’s 2,600-metre summit. Carling’s sunburned skin wouldn’t have thirsted for 250 millilitres of aloe vera cream and Sam wouldn’t have polished off one whole bottle of shoe shine on her dust-covered sneakers. Instead, Anisha and Alison – who proudly wore one sweatshirt every day of the trip – ended up doing two loads of laundry in a stream. (The shirt, however, did not take the plunge.)

At NeVo House, Joanna prepared 100 brown bag lunches and Yoel once got away with using his ‘special defence’ as Jared hung him upside down. At Villa Marcello, Vivek and Mike finally celebrated a 2-1 victory in the daily lunchtime schoolyard futbol game – after three days trying. Then, basking in their glory, they realized they had beat a team of eight-year-olds. The school’s grade six class also put on one traditional Andean play, much to the delight of the Canadian visitors. Meanwhile, Nina led games of ‘pato, pato, ganzo’ (‘duck, duck, goose’), to many giggles.

The team completed the school’s second floor over four days, passing and lifting thousands of buckets of sand, gravel and cement for the one and only, Maestro. At one point, Doris caught a record seven buckets at a time; by the end, however, only three survived intact. During reflection, the team spent one night of stargazing in Maras, 3,200-metres above sea level. The experience left 20 mouths agape in wonder at the 360-degree panorama of mountains and countless tiny jewelled beacons in the sky.  

Esperanza’s members took roughly 10,000 pictures – led by Shannon, sporting two cameras, slung like six-shooters at her side. The blank pages of Jessie’s journal were also soon tattooed by more than 14 pages of memories – by the second day. At Machu Picchu, the team counted 13 llamas, including two babies. Of the team’s 20 members, 16 reached Waynapicchu’s summit at 2,634 metres above sea level in one hour, enduring thousands of steep, narrow Incan stairs, a dark cave and lungs and muscles that screamed endlessly. Zero bananas survived the trek, covering our bags and three sandwiches per person with sticky goo.

Cassandra C. led the charge in singing 12 consecutive Disney songs on the bus, which was designed to accommodate 18, but held 21. At the time, 16 were asleep and uneager to hear songs of any type. Two flimsy green plastic stools introduced to the van to get people off the floor fell apart in mere moments. Seven weight jokes were immediately directed at Douglas, under whom the plastic legs quivered. Looking for alternatives, four Esperanzites spent four Soles for one tiny moto-taxi – you do math.

Welcome to Peru: on the last day in Urubamba, several faces contorted in horror upon being presented with cuy – paws still attached. After six squeals from Jared, everyone knew just how cold a local shower could be; the whole week, there were only three warm showers total. And there were no clean clothes left. There were unlimited smiles shared and several colourful traditional blankets, bags and Inca Kola t-shirts purchased. Kelly’s potato chips expired in 1996 and there were zero times there was enough sleep. There were, however, many more friends and countless memories made.

With 20 hours of layovers, the team spent time playing five different card games, including euchre, which Deanna was just learning. There was also one impromptu game of hide-and-seek in Atlanta, and another in Lima where the team spent 56 minutes looking for Sunitha, who had asked nine people for help after passing the team, and the security checkpoint. None spoke English. Always in demand, Larissa was the team’s one member fluent in Spanish.  

Last roll call through letters A-T: “Start us off, Kelly.” 20 outstanding people and one phenomenal team: Esperanza, (Alternative) Alternative Spring Break 2010.

No Words.

Detour to Cusco.

Cusco, Peru – Last night, hemmed in by the serrated tips of mountains that surrounded us, tiny white lights danced in the blackness overhead.

The Milky Way seared a bright scar across the sky. In Maras, we had climbed to 3,200 metres above sea level for our nightly reflection session – but under the stars, away from ambient light.

Sporadically, comets arced across the tableau as many of the team layed on the on their backs, reflecting on the enormity of our world, and our universe. Unfortunately, the altitude took a grip on Jared and we needed to bring him into Cusco for medical attention.

In the middle of the night, the streets in the countryside were predominantly silent, except for large packs of dogs that would follow in the wake of our taillights. Bouncing down steep stone streets, I was impressed by the city’s massive churches and impressive plazas. Even in the darkness. The streets here, too, were quiet. And after a night’s rest, it’s hoped that what ailed Jared is too.

A Turn for the Worse.

Urubamba, Peru – What had otherwise been a great day suddenly took a turn for the worse for me this afternoon – literally.

Playing an impromptu game of futbol, I rolled my ankle, which left me writhing in pain as blood seeped from my hands and knees. Suddenly, the ‘glory’ of an earlier goal became insignificant as I wondered how I could continue to help the team on its last day of construction tomorrow, and hike Machu Picchu the next.

The morning began wonderfully, with the students performing a dress rehearsal of a historical play that teaches about poverty and terrorism in Peru. It was a pretty special experience, not to mention cute; however, watching nine-year-olds wearing yellow masks fall to the ground shaking their legs as though they were being shot was mildly disturbing – despite the historical accuracy.

All in all, it was an inspiring way to begin the day: after watching them, how could you not want to work on their school? And work we did, carrying more than 1,500 pounds of cement in 100-pound bags across the lawn and up to the roof. At 2,800 metres above sea level, it is easy to become winded.

Carrying, mixing and pouring left us covered in dust, which trailed us like puffs of smoke everytime we moved. Grey globs of dried cement clung to our legs. But, we finished one of the classroom floors and felt a tremendous accomplishment at what we had achieved in a few short days. One more day to go for Team Esperanza to leave its mark.

At the end of the day, we handed out donations we had brought for the students and walked many of them home, ambling hand-in-hand as we scattered throughout the village. Dogs and bulls pushed by, and citizens watched with curiosity. Common themes emerged from a number of these experiences, including the hospitality and graciousness of the children’s families, their desire to point out local plants and animals, and to ask questions about us.

Naturally, linguistic differences presented a few challenges, but the act of being together spoke more words than any of us could. Eagerly gathering back at Villa Marcelo as the sun set over the hills, we absorbed the warmth of another day full of experience.

Breakfast in Urubamba.

Urubamba, Peru – The sun seems to rise earlier here at the equator.

Wandering into the dining room at Nevo House, I am greeted by sunshine that gleams over the mountains, spilling onto the white walls and blue baseboards, warming the patterned tile floor below.

 Looking out the short, narrow wooden doors toward the courtyard, idyllic pyramids of rock, brushed green, rise from the horizon in every direction. Three laminate-surfaced tables rest at the centre of the room, framed by wooden chairs, spaced around all sides to (tightly) accommodate the 20 members of our team. On the walls hang posters of popular destinations in Peru, a smattering of maps and correspondence and pictures from those who have formally lived and worked here.

At the centre of each table rests a plate with discs of bread, jam, margarine, a thermos of hot water for tea and a bowl of hard-boiled eggs. Spanish radio chirps from the kitchen and my nose dances to the aroma of lunch wafting out with the tune. Lost in the beauty of my surroundings as the sun kisses my skin, I am suddenly rousted from my reverie by an eye, peering around the corner.

Clutching a slice tomato in one hand, year-old Danery, daughter of one of them women who works here, looks shyly, blinks and unleashes the largest smile possible, saying “dada.”

My morning is complete, and it has yet to begin.

Counting on Success.

Urubamba, Peru – With Alison leading the count of “Uno, dos, treis…cuarenta y cuatro, cuarenta y cinco…ciento cincuenta y dos,” the numbers rose, as did buckets filled with rocks.

Throughout the day, several hundred more loads of water, cement mix or clay bricks were passed, fireman style, along a line and up to the roof of the Villa Marcello school, where Team Esperanza has begun construction on a second storey – under the watchful eyes of Salbatore and the Maestro.

At various points, you may have found John or Doris swinging a pickaxe, or Larissa and Cassandra F. using a heavy iron mallet to drive a spike into the roof. In the process, they were roughing up the concrete enough to ensure the new cement floor will stick better.

Or, you may have encountered the long line of buckets being passed between Nina, Ellie, Anisha, Sam and Cassandra C., to Douglas, standing atop a school desk, and up to Jessie and Vivek, perched over the edge of the school’s roof. Sunitha created a sport for those returning the empty buckets, setting up a tire as a basketball net.

Looking down toward the school's tarmac soccer field, you may have found Jared, Mike and Deanna, perfecting the mix of cement and sand, their shovels glinting in the bright sunlight. Baking on the roof, Kelly smoothed out the mortar holding the new bricks in place.

During recess, children from all grades flooded into the courtyard and Carling and Shannon quickly recruited them into games of Frisbee, futbol and duck-duck-goose. Canadians and Peruvians alike lit up, fun activities superseding linguistic challenges. A smile is a smile anywhere.

And these smiles melted our hearts.

Younger children played games in a circle and posed for pictures holding their hands in the shape of a Western ‘W’, while girls in skirts vigorously bumped a volleyball and a spontaneous game of ASB vs. all-comers erupted on the soccer pitch. Weaving around us with ease and passing balls through our legs toward an awaiting header by a teammate, they beat us to nearly every ball – despite wearing burgundy wool sweaters and slacks in the 30-degree heat.

The whole while, the verdant mountains loomed majestically around us. It’s really no wonder Peruvians have so long tied nature to the gods. In reflection, 'Optimistic' and 'Excited' were key words describing the outlook for tomorrow. After today's complete team effort that was both tremendously fun and rewarding, it's easy to see why.

Down to the Task at Hand.

Urubamba, Peru – Building on the day’s earlier theme of the sensory smorgasbord we have been presented with, we were greeted at the city market by vegetables of all colours, and spices of all scents.

The colourful blankets people wear blended right in.

A number of team members had wandered into the community after settling in to our three homes for the coming week. What better way to learn about a culture?

We later revisited the area on a guided tour that provided us with a more comprehensive overview of Urubamba. In the process, we also visited the merchant market, a couple of churches, the plaza and some Incan ruins. While it was nice – and no doubt helpful – to see the community in which we are going to be working, the team has been particularly vocal today about its excitement for becoming engaged with our service learning partner tomorrow.

And that, of course, is the whole point of being here, isn't it?

Coming to Senses on the Road to Urubamba.

Urubamba, Peru – Having flown from Lima early this morning, we drove by bus through the mountains to Urubamba, which provided everyone with an opportunity to absorb everything that surrounded us.

And there was much to absorb: from the smells of eucalyptus and diesel to the panache of colourfully dressed women sporting a variety of top hats, bowlers and cowboy hats – set atop long black braids that hung down their backs, tied together at the waist. From stray dogs loping through refuse piled in the gutter and dodging rocks thrown by an impatient man, to the persistent buzz of three-wheeled motorcycle taxis, there was so much to see, to smell, to feel.

Some absorbed the multi-coloured patchwork fields nestled into valleys punctuated by the jagged teeth of the glacier-tipped Andes. (Tufts of cloud appeared to nest atop many of the peaks like whipped cream.) Others were struck by the roughly constructed clay homes topped off by steel sheeting, or by mechanics trying to repair a rusted-out truck resting on the edge of a precipice.

Passing through stunning vista after stunning vista as we rounded hairpin turns with our luggage strapped to the roof of the bus, there was never any question of our surroundings attracting rapt attention – especially given that this was many team members' first experience in the developing world. Though dulled, all senses remained on alert – even with bleary eyes from the extent of travel and lack of sleep we have experienced over the past two days.

Yes, it really is that incredible here.

Lima Tender Moment Alone.

Lima, Peru – Tucked into niches between suitcases cobbled together like Incan ruins, several members of Team Esperanza lie under purloined airplane blankets, using the layover to catch up on sleep after a long day of travel.

Though we have not yet seen any of it, we have arrived in Peru. At 5 a.m., we again take to the air, flying to Cusco before making our way to Urubamba by bus.

Jared has draped his Canadian flag proudly at the entrance of our temporary Mustang commune on the second floor of Lima’s airport. Our distinctive purple Esperanza t-shirts are attracting curious looks from passersby. Shannon’s Western bandana provides a handy covering for some shut-eye. Perhaps best prepared of all, Carling lays cocooned inside a sleeping bag.

Other team members poke at mysterious tropical fruit left for us in goodie bags by Nexos Voluntarios – the NGO with whom we will be working. Quaffing their first Inca Kola, still more convert dollars into soles. Others read, write or type. All the while, Enya is piped over the speakers in a continuous loop. Oh, Oronoco Flow.

Add all of this to the spontaneous games of hide-and-seek and cards that broke out in the terminal in Atlanta and you have an industrious team that can find ways to fill the time during our many layovers.

But we’re here. And grateful to be.

Esperanza (Reprise).

Atlanta, GA – As we pulled out of Elgin Hall at 5:41 this morning, the sky maintained a murky darkness; unlike our first attempt in February, however, the forecast was not overshadowed by snow in every state.

Instead, rain drew Etch-a-Sketch patterns on the bus windows as the team settled, contorted in sleep. So much silence, despite the excitement.

Border guards at Windsor grilled us, asking, “What’s the point of doing this?” Wisely, we resisted the urge to offer detailed explanations of the value of service learning. By not turning back at the border, we had made it farther than our first foray, and felt a bit of satisfaction.

Anisha, Alison, Carling, Cassandra C., Cassandra F., Deanna, Doris, Douglas, Ellie, Jared, Jessie, John, Kelly, Larissa, Mike, Nina, Saman, Shannon, Sunitha, Vivek: Team Esperanza (II). And a special hello to Jenny, Gillian and Fabio, who were unable to participate in the rescheduled experience, but remain Esperanzites in our hearts.

Upon boarding the Atlanta-bound plane in Detroit, the captain’s voice sparked over the loudspeaker, saying: “I noticed a number of service personnel, veterans and a large contingent of humanitarian-bound students on board, and I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge and thank you for your service.”

Throughout the plane, people clapped. And several of us got chills.

Peru, here we come

End of Transmission.

London, ON – Like a present that has already been ripped open, the journey home is, naturally, far less fun.

As much as I still love being on the road, most of the mystery and anticipation has by then seeped out the window. Of course, heading back into Ohio and Michigan isn't much of a draw, either.

Just past Cincinnati, Ohio, a car accident shut down the highway for a half hour and the power steering became obstinate again. Twice. The temperature continued to drop the farther north we went, dipping to six degrees. So much for sandals.

Yup, we're home. And Easter turkey awaits.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 1,113.7 kms
• Weather: Hazy, with sun
• States/Provinces: Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Michigan, Ontario
• Wildlife: None
  

Homeward Bound.

Athens, TN – I feel a kinship with the sparking red taillights that dot the fog like fireflies.

Passing through the veil that hangs over the highway, we all have our own adventures, stories and destinations – similar, but unknown. License plates pass as name badges for points across the continent and generate knowing waves from someone sharing a home, still far away.

Working through northern Florida and into Georgia, colourful signs advertised oranges, pecans and peaches. The fog eventually burned off, giving way to ethereal clouds of yellow pollen that hung languidly in the air. Magnolia season is upon us.

The road before us continued to stretch through Atlanta, where planes swooped low like hawks with talons exposed. Unclear signage carried us in a loop around the airport. Four times. With the day drawing to a close, we were greeted by rust-coloured hills in Tennessee and a date watching the Final Four.

Go Butler.

Vitals:

• Time: 13 hours
• Distance: 959.5 kms
• Weather: Foggy, giving way to a mix of sun and cloud
• States: Florida, Georgia, Tennessee
• Wildlife: None
  

Time Warp.

Daytona Shores, FL – Heading south along secondary roads lined in neon and pastel this morning, the calendar page seemed mired in 1957.

We were greeted by faded cupcake-coloured buildings draped in etchings of dolphins, flamingos and palm trees. Vintage drive-in, Dairy Queen and Krispy Kreme signs sparked like rainbow bug zappers. Most could afford to buy a vowel.

It was such a time warp, you almost expected an old convertible Chevy to roar up with leather jacket-clad youth sitting atop the back seat, hair slicked back with Brylcreem. The car did eventually round the corner, cautiously climbing the curb – but driven by a man with hair as white as a starched business shirt.

In New Smyrna Beach, a diner sign proclaimed, “Let’s bring back the good ol’ days,” but at first blush, it seemed nothing had changed in the area for more than forty years. The economy has suffered a tremendous blow – an amazing number of decrepit gas stations, seaside motels and even churches sat for sale, crying for new owners. What is the price of salvation? (On average, a couple million, it seems.)

Given the area's history as a notorious Bible belt, perhaps some things have indeed changed.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 311.9 kms
• Weather: Sunny and warm
• States: Florida
• Wildlife: Alligators, countless shorebirds, including hornbills
  

Space Cadets.

Kennedy Space Centre, FL – Really, the Space Shuttle Discovery is sitting right there. Right there.

Okay, ‘right there’ is in fact still a couple miles away from the observation platform at Launch Complex 39, and the launch pad’s metal framework cloaks the Shuttle itself, revealing only the tips of its boosters. But it’s right there.

Having grown up watching the Shuttle program’s early voyages on television, including the ill-fated 73-second Challenger flight in 1986, I have long been enamoured by the thought of space travel. Given my love of discovery (pun intended), travel and new experiences, this likely comes as little surprise.

We had considered staying to witness Monday’s third-last Shuttle launch, but likely won’t given the extra time and uncertain launch conditions. Instead, we made our way to the Kennedy Space Centre today and were shuttled (yes, again, pun intended) around the facility by retired NASA staff sporting brush cuts that hearkened back to the golden era of space travel.

Moving past the Vehicle Assembly Building, which was once the world's largest building by volume (and is now the fourth-largest) and houses the three other Shuttles, we proceeded to Launch Complex 39 to see Discovery. From there, we visited the Apoll0/Saturn V Center, where the world's largest-ever rocket hangs from the ceiling. Our tour concluded with the Space Station Processing Facility, where you can see modules of the International Space Station tested.

T-4 until the (anticipated) lift-off.

Fit to be Tide.

Flagler Beach, FL – I carved this into the sand free form this evening, knowing the words would soon be drowned out, all traces of them erased from the history of Flagler Beach.

My memories of a great evening sitting quietly as dusk and increasing waves rolled in, however, will last far longer.

sands of time
Toes, curled in the sand, | the dancing waves trip over themselves | encroaching on the footprints | we have left behind. | The sky sighs at memories lost | but not forgotten, | stolen by the tide | but not from the mind.

Whale of a Time.

St. Augustine, FL – St. Augustine is the oldest city in the continental United States, and its oldest port. It may also be one of the tackiest.

Fearing rain, we opted to take the 45-minute drive up the coast this morning to see what St. Augustine had to offer. In typical North American fashion, the historic city has been commercialized to the hilt. From long lines of school buses to van loads of seniors escaping the beach, it was a tourist haven. So much history painted over with the spectre of cheap plastic figurines and commemorative coins.

It was neat to see Castillo de San Marcos, a fort constructed in the late 1600s out of coquina (small shells that have bonded together to form a stone similar to limestone), and to wander around Flagler College, whose gorgeous campus is situated on the grounds of the old Ponce de Leon Hotel. Several other structures made great subjects for photos.

Sightseeing trains chimed through the streets and the historic district teemed with tacky souvenirs. Coming across the "oldest wooden school house in the United States," we were greeted by grotesque mechanized people in period costume, including one mannequin peering out a second-floor window behind a box of silk flowers. Does everything really need to be made into a theme park?

The day was redeemed by the presence of a number of fun photo opportunities and by the appearance of a Right whale just off the shore, north of Flagler Beach.

Catching it out the corner of my eye, we pulled over and watched it swim past for a half hour. As most of already migrated north, the siting caused a long line of traffic to join in with binoculars and cameras.

What Will a Pier?

Flagler Beach, FL – As I waded under the Flagler Beach pier this morning, a rickety sky of molten greys rolled in with the increasing waves. Fishing poles traced fine lines to the sea.

“Not much biting today,” said one fisherman, indicating that dolphins had, a little earlier, chased away most of the fish. He had, however, caught a small shark and a stingray. This is the ocean.

The farther I traipsed from the shore, the more I was painted with a gouache of white caps that threatened to pull me and my camera asunder. I braced myself, lens held high. Pelicans darted overhead in search of a salted lunch in the roiling surf, which was also being sewn up by a number of neoprene-clad long boarders.

A storm is coming.

In Cycles.

Flagler Beach, FL – The moon rose majestically over a ferocious tide that crashed into the shore tonight.

Nature: such violence in peace.

in cycles
The naked moon stares down | at white caps, torn | from the puppet master's strings, | frothing at the dunes, eroded | in unchained rage. | In cycles, the seemingly random, | ordered.

Breakfast with Flipper.

Flagler Beach, FL – Dolphins. Really, I could stop right there, having seen several of the muscular mammals leaping in the waves from the balcony this morning. My day could have happily ended with that.

It was, however, also extremely nice to fall asleep and wake to the tune of the ocean’s crescendo drumming against the shore, a cool breeze creeping against my skin. Fresh. Peaceful.

The drive to Daytona Beach this morning was pleasant, if not kitschy. The afternoon, spent burying my toes in the sand, offered therapeutic relaxation. A lone sandpiper pecked at the shore, as a salty dusk descended with a shrug.

But having awoken to dolphins frolicking in the waves, planes preparing for an airshow and pelicans flying in equally tight formations made breakfast, and the day, so much better.

Bliss.

La Florida.

Flagler Beach, FL – “What does that indicator light mean?” A tug on the steering wheel while pulling through an intersection in Savannah, Georgia provided the answer: power steering failure.

Thankfully, turning the car off in a strip mall parking lot allowed the car to reset and we were able to continue toward the coast – with an ever-wary eye cast at the dashboard. Approaching Florida, a significant increase in traffic flow punctuated the point that not all snowbirds had yet begun to migrate north.

Upon entering the state, we were greeted by anti-abortion billboards that lined the highway every mile or so, and cars that were adorned with “Choose Life” license plates sporting drawings of children. Even more disturbing was the billboard displaying a large automatic weapon and the tagline, “Relieve Yourself.”

Welcome to the south.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 780.8 kms
• Weather: Sunny and warm
• States: South Carolina, Georgia, Florida
• Wildlife: None
  

Georgia on my Mind.

Savannah, GA – Walking through Savannah, Georgia this afternoon, Spanish moss hung from wispily bearded trees, giving them the appearance of wise sages looming over historic homes and budding boulevards.

Shedding our shoes for sandals in the 27-degree heat, we made our way to the market, traipsing past old trains and through one of the city’s historic cemeteries. Again, the web-like gauze of moss added mystique as we ambled past sepia-tinted tombstones, their faces hauntingly blank. By contrast, hundreds of people had carved their names into the leaves of an enormous cactus standing sentry by the wrought-iron gate that guided us back to the world of the living.

Must be a fun spot at Halloween.

Nearby, students from the South Carolina College of Art & Design bustled about with fancy leather portfolios. We passed City Hall, the old Cotton Exchange and many other buildings that hold their own place in history books. While you could taste the humidity on the tip of your tongue, it wasn’t overly sticky. Our highlight in Savannah was a nice lunch at Belford’s in the market, where we sat on the patio watching passersby, delighting in southern-style chicken salad, shrimp with applewood-smoked bacon, collared greens and grit cakes.

While renowned for its beauty, charm and hospitality, however, I still found Charleston to be prettier.

A Caricature.

Spartanburg, SC – Weaving through hilly switchback cicatrices and past the French Broad River in the back country of North and South Carolina, we finally had our first deviation from the Interstate on this trip. Naturally, the day had begun to yawn.

A rock slide in Newport, Tennessee had caused us to detour an hour out of our way, which not only provided fun driving in the hills, but the most eye-opening experience of the journey thus far. It was a prime and timely opportunity to reflect on our good fortune, even in the face of current adversity in our lives.

Like a sad caricature, a young pregnant woman stood smoking on the rickety porch of a fallen-down trailer nestled in the trees. A half-dozen baby carriages in various states of disrepair sat perfectly aligned, much like the weathered, parted-out pick-up trucks to the side. I almost expected the moment to carry a New Yorker-type quip underneath.

Throughout the area, decrepit trailers and clapboard homes shrugged like depressed shoulders. Perching on the edge of the riverbank, they lacked doors and sported window frames that slouched into diamonds. A pauper’s garden of refuse dotted the lawn.

It really made us think, even as we careened through the fun-to-drive hills and curves – extreme poverty exists everywhere. Though unexpected, it was the day’s highlight.

From the time we entered Tennessee, however, we could tell from the spicy, humid aroma of the air and the red and white flowering trees that blossomed like small puffs of smoke that the onset of spring was already here. With budding trees comes a budding season and budding promise for the journey ahead.

And Carolina barbeque for dinner wasn't a bad way to end a day, either.

Vitals:

• Time: 14 hours
• Distance: 1,323.3 kms
• Weather: Predominantly grey, warming up in the afternoon; rain in major cities in the north
• Province/States: Ontario, Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina
• Wildlife: None