Intended Journey: Toronto-Dayton, OH
Actual Journey: Toronto-Windsor, ON
Notable Cities: London, Thames, Highgate (re: High-Geet), Waterloo, Windsor.
Total Miles Driven: 801.8
As I had a friend’s wedding to attend in Dayton the following day, I left Toronto early and hit the road. Thomas routed me across Ontario, planning to bring me back to The States through Detroit. Best intentions, Thomas. Instead of making the trip across the boarder, I made it two hours when my car (aka Whitman) began shaking uncontrollably. As I was in the middle of desolate farm lands where exits were every 15 miles, I had to bide my time praying Whitman wouldn’t quite literally explode until I could pull off and find somewhere safe to park.
Hardly rolling, every head turned at Empire Gas Stop in Ridgetown, ON as I pulled into the parking lot. I suppose a clunking MINI Cooper from America, driven by a small blonde girl is enough to attract attention. The next three hours were spent juggling conversations with the kindly locals (this entry is dedicated to you, wonderfully helpful people of Ridgetown), and trying to sort out AAA/CAA to get some help to come to me.
Eventually another kindly local with a tow truck came to my rescue. Having never seen a MINI or their complex spare tire situation, we combined our brain power to figure out how to release my spare from the under carriage of my car, which I’m sure took much longer than it should have. The kindly local changed my tire and had me follow him to the closest tire shop in the area, where the only help I received was accented mocking of the horrific shape of my tires. In my defense I’ve a) been out of the country and therefore not driving Whitman and 2) took my car to a local shop to have the tire pressure checked before I left. Apparently completely bald and cording tires were passable by their standards, because he sent me on my way without even attempting to sell me a new set.
After withstanding ridicule from the simpletons at the tire shop it became apparent that no where nearby had my oddly sized tires and my only choice was to risk the 30 mile drive to Windsor, ON where I would be able to have my tires changed the next morning. This of course meant that I would not be making my friend’s wedding ceremony at 8am the next morning, but there was still a chance I’d make the 5pm reception. I had no other option, and put on cruise control at 55mph, rocked my hazard lights, and hoped for the best. The trip would have been much less nerve wreaking had there not been, in perfect Canadian fashion, extensive construction the entire way causing 75% of the journey to be done on a one-lane highway. Needless to say, I upset many people that day with my cautious speed.
I arrived at the Windsor Days Inn around 6pm that night and quickly noted that I did not seem to be in the best area. While I initially thought to walk the few blocks up to the Caesar’s casino I saw, I gave it more thought and realised it may not be the best choice for me to wander the streets of a completely unknown city alone at night, especially with my hotel view of discount tobacco and all day bingo. Instead, I chose to spend the night in the hotel room watching wholesome classics like The Luck of The Irish. What better way to end the night of Day Two: Mission Americana than with an eye-watering rendition of This Land Is Our Land.
As I went walking that ribbon of highway, I saw above me that endless skyway. This land was made for you and me.
