A Jewel.

Footfalls.

Niagara Falls, ON – Even as it rattles through my bones, the crash of a fifth of the world's fresh water leaves me stilled, in awe.

It's deceptive in its emerald shimmer, rolling off the lip of the falls and spitting diamonds, caught in the sunlight.

I've been coming to Niagara Falls since I was a child and it continues to amaze, even as the area balloons in kitsch to accommodate an unceasing flow of tourists. But it's all about the natural wonder: so many mouths agape, like the Horseshoe Falls themselves.

Aboard the Hornblower, we dissolve into the mist, ruby-red ponchos inflating like comic book characters. I stand humbled beneath the torrent, swirling in the power of nature. Spray blows rainbows across the bow.

For the first time, we visit the Niagara Parks Power Station. Built in 1905, it was the first major power plant built on the Canadian side of the falls. It's now a beautiful museum that wears the history of electric power on its sleeve. Drips lead to a roar as we make our way down the 2,200-foot tunnel that once carried water away from the turbines.

We emerge beneath the falls. It's a vantage I've never had.

And it's spellbinding.

Collossus of Roads.

I sell sunsets down by the seashore.

London, ON – It’s a day spent watching fresh memories, but stitched in reverse.

And at high speed.

That is, of course, until we near Toronto on Highway 401, which is always a centipede of steel and impatient engines. Trucks heave. Lowered cars with cannon-like mufflers try to slip into new lanes unnoticed.

You can feel the collective eyeroll.

Work commitments have required us to return all the way home today – what's a thousand kilometres between friends? So, for now, I tuck memories into the centre console, scribbled onto maps over coloured lines I'll likely never cross again. 

But which I'll hold with me forever.

At last: home, sweet home. 

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 1,123 kms
• Provinces: Québec, Ontario
• Weather: Sunny and warm
• Wildlife: Hare

Bedeviled.

Finding this place wasn't a fluke.

Rivière-Ouelle, QC – A driftwood whale sits atop La Baleine Endiablée, bleached by the sun.

It's home for the night after more than 11 hours and nearly 1,100 kilometres on the road. The sun has finally come out at the end of a day painted in blended greys.

So has my French.

Unsurprisingly for us, the auberge hosts a nanobrewery. Out back, picnic tables overlook farm fields that roll up into the mountains,  glistening in the distance. It has been a long, but not particularly taxing day. Still, the idyllic setting is a welcome respite.

We've settled around plates of méchoui – Québecois barbeque pork – with gravy, coleslaw and spiced fries. The server arrives with a 9.5% barleywine.

In a pint glass.

The devilish whale, indeed.

Vitals:

• Time: 11 hours, 14 minutes
• Distance: 1,091.9 kms
• Provinces: Ontario, Québec
• Weather: Fog, cloud and rain, leading to sun
• Wildlife: None

De La Soul.

C'est (bour)bon.

Lexington, KY – As the bottom of the rust belt falls out, spring greens pitch tentatively skyward.

Eastern redbuds are sprinkled like confetti in the fog, welcoming the new season and accompanying freedom that floats on the breeze. Between winter and a global pandemic now in its third year, the rebirth hits close to home.

Moving south, Ohio’s skyline becomes an abstract of greys crisscrossed by beams painted ochre and soft blues. Many of the art deco bridges are topped by ornate iron work, whispering to a bygone era.

We hadn’t planned to drive, but studies and life got in the way of fleeting plans and here we are, suddenly on a tour of the bourbon trail and pointed toward Charleston, South Carolina.

A tasting at the modern New Riff Distilling, just over the bridge from Cincinnati, is followed by a stop at Boone County Distilling. I’m driving, so just a sniff and a shot of history.

Boone County, founded in 2015, boasts walls dressed in charred barrel staves, blackened but smooth to the touch. It claims inspiration from a distillery opened in the area in 1833 and uses the tagline “Made by Ghosts.”

“Spirits, Distilled by Spirits” was right there.

C'est (aussi) bon.

The best part of the day, though, has been pulling up to a strip mall in Lexington, looking for dinner. Mimi’s Southern Style Cooking is lined up out the door even though the dining room – which seems to double as a dance hall – sits empty.

There’s no obvious menu, but aluminum catering trays shimmer with fried chicken, mac and cheese, collard greens, green beans, corn bread and various other items. We can immediately tell it’s a road trip gem.

Conspicuous, we’re invited to the front of the line and handed a cafeteria tray.

Everyone else is waiting for the pork chops.

Vitals:

• Time: 11 hours
• Distance: 762 kms
• Province/States: Ontario, Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky
• Weather: Persistent rain, fog and cold
• Wildlife: None

Drive-by Bye.

London, ON — The darkness of night suddenly swirled in blue and red, the silence of a quiet evening shattered by sirens and high-revving engines.

Connecticut Avenue had become a police disco.

Had someone hit a cyclist? The response, within minutes, of more than a dozen police cars and fire trucks wailed of great tragedy.

Little did we know.

Behind our hotel, four men had jumped out of a carjacked Alfa Romeo and fired more than 50 rounds — including with a semi-automatic rifle — in a targeted killing that also left a bystander with significant injuries. My partner had walked past the spot 20 minutes earlier. I had been there a couple hours prior, and countless times before.

When I first started coming to Washington D.C. more than 30 years ago, it was understood you had to be careful to not cross the wrong streets or you could suddenly end up in a bad area. Having walked through much of the city since, I’ve never felt unsafe.

Row, row, row.

And, despite being the site of an assassination attempt on President Ronald Reagan in 1981, the area around the Washington Hilton hardly qualifies as bad.

Violent crime and homicide have increased steadily in the district in recent years, though, reaching rates unseen in 20 years. It’s immediately obvious more people are experiencing homelessness than when I was there last. The pandemic cannot have helped.

Having spent the day driving home, we have been left reflecting on change, on life, on equity. And on a love I still have for D.C.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 969.3 kms
• Province/States: Washington D.C., Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York, Ontario
  
• Weather: Sunny and mild
• Wildlife: A panic-stricken coyote, struck by a car and unable to move its legs

Lilly Paddle.

(Amy) Winehouse.

Essex, ON – A repurposed wine barrel floats in a pond near Canada's southernmost point.

Large enough for a Queen-sized bed – and little more – the houseboat is home for the night.
 
At first glance, we see a cyclops.
 
The structure has been fitted with a large window, like a convex monocle, allowing us to spy over sun-dappled lily pads and flocks of birds, which flap from the shrugging tree like letters, scattered on a typewritten page.
 
We have a Tiki Hut bar, an outdoor shower that it’s likely too cold for, our own fire pit and a rowboat, which we use to write in cursive through the lilies.
 
Fall's bite nibbles in the air as jet-black cormorants crane their necks and a majestic blue heron glides by like a ballerina. Fish jump, quickly realizing they should slip away from prying beaks.
 
The late-day sun is as golden as the fall fields that fade into the shore. The first peach stains of evening melt across the sky.
 
As Lake Erie thunders on the wind, we paddle into the serenity we've been seeking from a world that has seen successive crises for months. Sometimes, the illness, politics, racism, economic collapse and isolation become too much.
 
So you seek even more isolation.
 
It's not far from home, but with the pandemic snarling through its seventh month, it's as far as the world beckons for the time being.
 
It's a barrel of laughs.

Getting my Phil.

Do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

Philadelphia, PA – The dark velour of the early morning sky frays at the seams, salmon spawning across its belly.

It’s 5:30 a.m. and the rising sun has already become lazy with fall.

We wind through New York’s hills, which have only begun to molt summer’s skin, much like the greying you question seeing at your temples as you age. Through Pennsylvania’s Endless Mountains and Poconos, however, the leaves have begun to smoulder like recently lit cigarettes amidst puff-cheeked hills.

Vampire Weekend plays on repeat, getting us ready for tomorrow night’s concert on the outskirts of Philadelphia.

Our first stop in the City of Brotherly Love, though, is for a beer and moules et frites at the legendary Monk’s Café.

It has been called one of the top-five places in the world to have a beer and, upon scanning the list, I am disinclined to argue.

Vitals:

• Time: 10 hours
• Distance: 880 kilometres
• Weather: Sun with clouds, warming as we progressed
• Province/States: Ontario, New York, Pennsylvania
• Wildlife: None

Hop To It.

Aligned.

Worcester, MA – After a morning spent alternately dropping into, and climbing out of, New York’s green crevasses, we’ve fallen into a lineup that snakes around a parking lot.

Intentionally.

A constant stream of people toting flats of candy-coloured cans flows in the opposite direction. Many of the more ambitious have come prepared with trolleys – and apparently, deep pockets. They sport craft brewery t-shirts from around the world, seemingly trying to one-up each other with the most obscure, or the most sought-after.

Despite being an almost two-hour wait, it’s apparently actually a quiet day at Treehouse Brewing Company.

The only quiet spot at Treehouse that day.

As one of the top-rated breweries in the world – and one that doesn’t distribute beyond these lineups – I’d imagine they’ll also be selling many t-shirts, in addition to the coveted cans.

The sun is in full bloom against an utterly blue slate, so the minutes melt away.

Typical brewery aromas like wort blend with citrus notes, which makes sense given Treehouse is particularly known for its juicy, hoppy beers. The Adirondack chairs framing the garden sit empty, however, as it’s a can-only day.

There are too many people here for them to efficiently let the taproom flow.

An oddly efficient 90 minutes later, however, we have our own flat – a rattling rainbow of treats we carry past the hyphenated line of eager patrons still filling out their checklists.

It'll be worth their wait.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours
• Distance: 932 kms
• Weather: Sunny and hot
• Province/States: Ontario, New York, Massachusetts
• Wildlife: None

Blues & Suede Shoes.

Graceland, graced.

Hayti, MO – After an early start, we rattled along Michigan’s bone-jarring highways, zebra-striped by countless tar repairs.

To our left, a mosaic-stained hot air balloon slumped in the heat, dropping over a red barn.

It would be the prettiest thing we’d see all day.

But, not the best.

That distinction was reserved for our pit stop at the 3 Floyds Brewpub in Munster, IN, which offered tempura-fried cheese curds, brisket steam buns and Buffalo pretzel knots that had greasy bleu cheese sliding into every nook. The Battle Priest American wild ale, too, was tremendous.

We’re off to Memphis, TN, to Graceland and the National Civil Rights Museum. And, maybe – just maybe – some barbeque. The city is usually described as one of the regional epicenters (with North Carolina, South Carolina, Kansas City, East and South Texas – and sometimes Alabama) of America’s love affair with barbeque.

And, I'm okay with eating them all.

As we dropped farther south, the temperature continued to climb, hitting a pre-humidex 34.5. Approaching Cairo, IL, even the clouds started to sweat.

After all these years, the gravelly voice and the mournful mouth harp of the open road continue to draw us onto these journeys.

Every bend in the road remains a question mark.

•     Time: 14.5 hours
•     Distance: 1,345.2 kms
•     Weather: Sunny and increasingly hot, with a brief rain shower
•     Province/States: Ontario, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri
•     Wildlife: None

Frozen Heros.

It was a Heady day.

Stowe, VT – Standing in the fog, the trees seemed like seventies tweed. Brown, everywhere.

Below, soft mounds of snow clung to the crevices, a season’s receding hairline on the rocks of the Canadian Shield.

And now, the U.S. Customs and Border Protection agent, perched in his kiosk, boomed: “Welcome to the United States” with a big smile. As he offered travel tips, it quickly became apparent he hadn’t had the busiest of days.

“Ah, Vermont! I was there last week. It’s lovely.”

While the crossing is into New York, you can literally see Vermont from where he sat. I’d imagine he’s there most weeks – but, he was a riot.

Five minutes of small talk later, he actually seemed saddened to see us go.

We wove through North Hero and South Hero and on to Stowe, where it’s apparently mud season. Snow, now like smoker’s teeth, lies clumped in the bush as we pull into the historic Stowehof for the night.

But first, the real reason for visiting Vermont: beer at the Alchemist and cheese, this time in the form of Bayley Hazen Blue cheese balls at Doc Ponds.

And here I thought I couldn’t stand blue cheese.

Vitals:

• Time: 9.5 hours
• Distance: 959.3 kms
• Weather: Fog, rain.
• Provinces/States: Ontario, Quebec, New York, Vermont
• Wildlife: Deer

On Track. (And Not.)

An abridged version.

New York City, New York – The humid air is heavy like my lids.

In fairness, it’s nearly midnight and it took us more than five hours to get out of Manhattan. Next, we take Berlin.

We spent the morning casually strolling down the High Line, where exhausted train tracks stitch together a series of gardens in the elevated park. It provides a new vantage to the city: vistas framed by tall grasses sashaying in the whisper of a breeze.

The sun, however, continued to bear down, casting long shadows over artworks dotting the path.

A hard turn across lower Manhattan, where we passed brunching actor, Josh Charles, and onto the Brooklyn Bridge – once the world’s largest suspension bridge. Today, it was filled with runners raising money for juvenile diabetes.

Festival fare.

Up through Chinatown, which has spread into Little Italy. We had, of course, picked the hottest fall day on record to amble through a street festival – the 91st annual Feast of San Gennaro – on Mulberry Street, which was awash in colour and the aromas of onions, peppers and sausages snapping on the grill. Other vendors had cannoli the size of my forearm.

I couldn’t even count the steps I sewed into the city's streets today. Thankfully, my pedometer did: more than 35-thousand.

Back up Broadway to gather our bags, and on to Grand Central Station to catch our shuttle once we grabbed a fun Cambodian sandwich at Num Pang.

Alas, two hours into our trip, we had gone just three blocks, surrounded by blinking lights and blaring horns – it was as if Studio 54 had taken to Manhattan’s streets. The tunnel was blocked, siphoning traffic toward the 57th street bridge. Several panicked passengers leapt off, fearful of missing their planes.

They immediately discovered subways also weren't running.

Complicating matters further, our driver decided to get into a battle of wills with an SUV. Their tires were locked in a stalemate, his studded rims hopelessly wound into hers. We wouldn’t be going anywhere until a new shuttle arrived. Finally, five hours after our initial departure: John F. Kennedy International Airport.

It’s the one time I’ve ever been happy to be told I have a multiple-hour flight delay.

Still, we won't get home until 5:30 a.m.

The workday looms far closer than I’d prefer.

The Road Less Travelled.

What came first: the chicken or racism?

London, ON – The fog hangs like a veil as we drive like an arrow through the nothingness.

Having been here before, I know tremendous beauty lies behind it; we must only move beyond this early hour.

Three baby turkeys make us slalom more than the roads’ hips as we make our way past parted-out car hoods propped against crooked trees. They have been spray-painted with slogans like “Make America Great Again” and “TRUMP!” Looking at the industries folded into many of these valleys, it’s easy to see these are areas most vulnerable to some of the current government’s policies.

I can only hang my head.

A church sign, meanwhile, says it represents “a separation between church and hate,” but it’s a message missed by too many these days. Still, it restores a modicum of hope.

Beyond the 10-hour drive home, we still need to pick up our car in downtown Toronto and return the rental to Pearson International Airport, 30 minutes away. Again, thanks, Porter.

Naturally, we have arrived in Toronto just in time to be greeted by roads clogged like pipes as traffic pours into the city for the afternoon’s Blue Jays baseball game.

So tired. So much for vacation.

Vitals:

• Time: 10 hours, five minutes
• Distance: 782.6 kms
• Weather: Foggy, breaking to sun, with intermittent sprinkles of rain
• States/Province: Pennsylvania, New York, Ontario
• Wildlife: None

Signs of a Road Trip.

Casey Rocks, Big Time.

London, Ontario – Cruising through Illinois, the billboard proclaimed: “If you lived in Greenville, you would be home by now.”

It was, unfortunately, placed directly in front of a prison.

We had awoken early to a cool morning, having spent the night at a converted, centuries-old barn outside St. Louis. The smell of wet peat hung in the air and wispy fog clung to the trees before sinking into the valley. It was a gorgeous day for the route home.

Farther east, signs called for us to stop in Casey, Illinois, which bills itself as being home to “big things in a small town.” True to its word, we soon came upon a 56-foot-tall wooden rocking chair and a functioning 54-foot-tall wind chime. Naturally, we gave it a ring, sending a deep baritone cascading down Main street.

Friendly townspeople appear to take pride in their quirky town, pointing us on to the next “big thing.” It’s home to seven world’s-largest items – including mailbox, wooden shoes and golf tee – which have all been manufactured in Casey. In all, there are 13 ‘big’ attractions to see.

It’s a road trip – when faced with a 10-hour drive through the prairies, how can you not stop to see the world’s-largest anything?

After 3,772.7 kilometres, home.

Vitals:

• Time: 12 hours, 15 minutes
• Distance: 1,124.5 kms
• Weather: Sunny and warm
• States/Province: Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Michigan, Ontario
• Wildlife: Deer

Off the Wagon.

Checking Lincoln's Logs.

St. Louis, Missouri – As we pulled onto the highway this morning, spotted sparrows kicked up in the dust, backlit against the dawn. A light rain made a kaleidoscope of the windshield.

Soon, though, the day's swelling humidity melted the clouds, dripping them onto our skin. It would eventually reach 32.5 degrees as we threaded across middle America.

We found ourselves distracted by a billboard for Boom Donuts in Kalamazooo, Michigan, but couldn’t find it. Even Google comes up short. Other roadside placards duelled for space, offering fireworks and star-pricked galaxies crossed out with a giant red X. "God Created. Period."

Welcome to the heartland.

Soon, we found ourselves perfectly timed for the opening of 3 Floyds – one of the world's top-rated craft breweries. On tap, the highly sought-after Dark Lord – a big, rich, viscous stout. Good lord. Paired with fried cheese curds and a house-cured meat plate, lunch shaped up well.

It seems I soon will, too.

The terrain around us grew as flat as the songs rolling from our tongues. But, pitted roads frequently jarred us into focus. Like ants in a line, we would end up deciding to cut across the grass median to avoid a massive traffic backup near Lincoln, Illinois. Alongside, transport trailers reversed up the on-ramps. We would save ourselves 90 minutes.

Serendipity: a detour on historic Highway 66, and a chance to see the world's largest covered wagon. Would life have been complete any other way?

With the end of the day upon us, the sun glistened off the Gateway Arch in St. Louis.

Missouri: a new state for me to explore.

Vitals:

• Time: 13.5 hours
• Distance: 1,152.8 kms
• Weather: Rain, giving way to sun and heat
• Province/States: Ontario, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri
• Wildlife: None

Reigned In.

2,923 kilometres of memories.

London, ON – The day seemed set on monochrome as I twisted open the throttle for the final push home. Donning rain gear, we set off into a deluge that didn't let up until Findlay, Ohio.

We had decided to forgo any of the fun back roads because we were being greeted by the remnants of a tropical storm that had hit Texas. Safety and ease of getting back home would win the day.

My aching tailbone was silently grateful.

Perhaps it was time after more than 46 hours of riding, 2,923 kilometres, countless curves, three BBQ sandwiches, seven states and a province. And a tonne of laughs and memories with my father.

Which is what it was all about. Thanks, Dad.

Vitals:

•     Time: 7 hours
•     Distance: 541.2 kms
•     Weather: Heavy rain, giving way to sun
•     States/Province: Ohio, Michigan, Ontario
•     Wildlife: Deer

Oh, Hi, Yo.

Roads, bent like Gumby.

Prestonburg, KY – As we rode into Ohio, the morning chill melted off to aromas of dry pine and campfire. By lunch, which we had enjoyed at a rest stop in Michigan, the temperature had risen from 14 to 30.

And, by mid-afternoon: 40.

But, as we approached Columbus, Ohio, the round, peaty smell of summer rain rose to my nostrils and grey skies turned white with large drops that caromed off the windshield. We didn’t even have time to don our rain riders.

Twenty minutes past the storm, however, it hardly mattered: the hot wind had slapped the moisture from our legs and, again, we sizzled.

We were fortunate to re-find the sun as it dropped with us into the Appalachian Mountains, where rock faces finally unmasked themselves to us.

These are the curves for which the area is so well known.

Vitals:

•   Time: 11 hours, 15 minutes
•   Distance: 845.7 kms
•   Weather: Variably sunny and cloudy, with thunderstorms in Columbus; cool then hot
•   Province/States: Ontario, Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky
•   Wildlife: None

In Tune.

Time to Scituate (Mass.) yourself.

London, ON – The folk-rock sounds of Mumford & Sons echoed in our ears as we tucked into the thick blanket of fog that draped over Massachusetts this morning.

After a short visit to Beantown, and a night in Mansfield, we were back on the road.

Last night's power-packed concert showcased the band's new rock-oriented direction, which isn't to say banjos didn't still make cameo appearances, particularly for older songs. The stage show was far more refined than the last time we saw them, in Hamilton, ON in 2011. That was, however, only their second-ever stadium show.

The concert opened with a whisper as Marcus Mumford let the energy build, almost mumbling through the opener, Only Love. Sounds crested like waves, quietly building through the band's older material and new songs. The new direction brought a level of stadium-appropriate thrashing impossible with their older tunes.

People danced, insofar as they could when pressed elbow-to-elbow throughout the venue.

Parking at the Xfinity Center, however, was a tangled mess, as long threads of cars stood, engines off, for more than two hours before finally moving. Trying to get 12,000 people out three gates was, apparently, more than a small challenge. It's no wonder concertgoers experienced with the venue arrived with hibachi grills, games and plenty of food and beverage. The whole evening was a giant tailgate party.

Getting back to the hotel at 2 a.m., however, left us with only four hours of sleep.

Just what you want for a 10-hour driving day.

Vitals:

•     Time: 10 hours
•     Distance: 970.9 kms
•     Weather: Foggy, leading to thunderstorms, heavy rain
•     States/Province: Massachusetts, New York, Ontario
•     Wildlife: None

A-Mass-ed.

On the road, with spirits, buoyed.

Braintree, MA – Like an early morning flashlight to the eyes, the bright orange ball crests over the highway, drawing us east. Apparently, we are back to 5:30 a.m. starts.

Sure, we crossed these roads just a couple weeks ago, but why not make an impromptu return to Massachusetts for a Mumford & Sons concert? And I’ve never spent substantive time in Boston.

It is, after all, a beautiful day for a drive.

The first coffee shop: closed. Bathrooms at the second: same.

Possibly feeling the cobwebs of the early morning, the server at the next Tim Hortons doesn't feel like counting. 32 Timbits for the price of 20.

Now, that’s a better start.

Vitals

• Time: 10 hours
• Distance: 974.6 kms
• Weather: Sunny
• Province/States: Ontario, New York, Massachusetts
• Wildlife: None

Fin.

Yes, in fact, we are out of the woods yet.

London, ON – Home: the end of another successful excursion to the coast.

Vitals:

• Time: Nine hours
• Distance: 790.2 kms
• Weather: Clear, getting hot as we headed west
• States/Province: Massachusetts, New York, Ontario
• Wildlife: None

A Swing at the Piñata.

The roads, people, they are steeple.

Burlington, VT – Like the mystery itself, the day began shrouded in fog, but ended clear, the skies ripped open by Vermont's peaks.

Hoping to craft a smile the size of the sun currently blooming over Burlington, I have spent the past week plotting. She didn't know: would the impromptu, surprise vacation call upon the services of a plane or a car? A train or a boat?

Like a piñata, she knew there was something full of colour before her, but giddy eyes still inquired as to the goodies contained within. Despite many cracks at guessing.

That is, of course, until Highway 401 forked east. The jig was up.

Stitching a seam along the Seaway Trail that flanks the St. Lawrence River, the light turned, causing  towering pines to shift in their greens. Light shimmered as clouds closed over blankets of needles, many of which had yet to shake off the rust of winter.

We jumped from puddle to puddle of blue around Lake Champlain before a mile-long steel bridge zippered shut our time in New York, pointing us into Vermont. It was a shorter driving day than normal as we seeped into the fresh and local ethos that seems so prevalent in the small American state.

A craft beer that's hard to top.

We were keen to dine at the Farmhouse Tap and Grill, which featured local cheeses, the Vermont Heritage Grazers Pork burger and a world-class beer list headlined by Heady Topper – last year's highest-rated craft beer. Glasses were soon filled with other highly rated brews: Sip of Sunshine, Pannepot Reserva (2010) and Bourbon County Brand Stout (2014). Truly an epic, epic evening.

The piñata had begun to reveal its spoils.

Vitals:

• Time: 8.5 hours
• Distance: 644.3 kms
• Weather: Cloud, burning off to sun and blue sky
• States/Province: Ontario, New York, Vermont
• Wildlife: None