It’s funny how food, a good sleep, and leaving before rush hour hits can change one’s perspective. I had no problem at all navigating my way OUT of Bangor!

It was a wonderful day spent zig-zagging my way from the south east of Bangor to the north west of Maine before crossing into Quebec. I wish I could share the route Petunia (my phone) laid out for me, but she had me turning left, right, straight, repeat and on and on so I don’t recall the names/numbers of those roads. I do, however, recall very much enjoying a lot more twisties than I figured I’d get, and the narrow roads were quiet and relatively free from traffic.

I passed through a few little communities and really enjoyed my saddle time in Maine. I noticed most communities had banners with the faces, names, and dates of the lives of the community’s fallen soldiers. Soldiers were honoured from all conflicts. There were a lot of banners. Like I mean a lot. I was struck by how many hometown sons did not come home and my heart ached for all the moms in Maine.

I would have liked to have stayed south to experience more of the northern USA, but I was on a time budget. I needed to be back in Deux Montagnes so Jules could get her new tires only another day ahead. Actually, I was surprised how quickly I arrived at the border. I expected to be state-side at least until mid afternoon. I was back in Canada in time to have lunch in a little community about an hour north of where I crossed at Hereford, Quebec. I had a really nice chat with a fellow biker before continuing on to Sherbrooke and then Montreal.

I was fortunate to avoid driving through Montreal on my way out east, but unfortunately I wasn’t escaping it this day. To go around the island would have meant going a lot further south and then west than I preferred. Remember, I need to be in Deux Montagnes to get Jules into the shop so I couldn’t afford another day. “Fuck it” I thought, “how bad can it really be?”

Bad.

It was really, really bad.

When I left Bangor that morning, it was on the chilly side. Then sometime after lunch I geared up to meet the thunderstorm I rode through. Although I’d taken off my rain coat just before getting into the thick of it in Montreal, I still had on all my layers and my rain pants. I’d only stopped on the side of the highway to remove the jacket and with the high number of manic drivers, I didn’t take the time to remove all my layers. Given that Petunia assured me I had nothing but freeway ahead, I figured it would only mean about 45 minutes or so before I was passed the worst of the traffic. Shortly after I set out again, temperatures soared to about 32 degrees.

For two hours I inched along in first gear. Traffic was moving just enough that coming to a full stop wasn’t possible. There were quite a few moments where I thought I might fall right over from heat exhaustion! I tried to maneuver into the shade cast by the semi trucks, but this was a tricky feat. As the freeway wound around the island, the shade opportunities were shifty. Sometimes I’d be ok behind a semi, then the road would curve and it would be to the left, or maybe to the right. Rarely was the shade cast on me and Jules. Had I known this is what riding through Montreal was like, I’d have gladly overshot by a couple of hundred kilometers to get back to Deux Montanes! My clutch hand was in agony, my feet were on fire, and I was sweating in places I didn’t know could sweat.

When all signs pointed to my route going through downtown Montreal, I felt sick. Downtown driving had a suck factor of eleventy nine thousand. After about 90 minutes Petunia advised there was a road block ahead (remember I’d been moving along in only first gear as it was) and she had an alternate route that would save me 5 minutes. I jumped all over that. Even getting up to second gear and off the freeway to find a spot to layer down would have felt like a win. When the ramp appeared, I needled my way through traffic and gleefully picked up speed. “So long suckers!” I said out loud. And then, just like that, Petunia died.

Oh Shit.

I had zero idea where I was or where to go next. I hung a right off the ramp and carried on until I saw a gas station. Surprisingly, I wasn’t really even in a panic. Had I been lost in Montreal a couple of weeks ago, I may have been freaked out. But this day? Nah. It was nice to notice I was still pretty calm inside. Thirsty as hell and super overheated, but not panicked. After fueling up, I parked in the shade of a garbage bin in the parking lot to peel off as many layers as I could.

The power cord I THOUGHT connected Petunia to Jules’ port was dangling in the breeze. Good grief! How it didn’t get caught up in my bike is a miracle! I fished out my battery pack from my trunk to charge my phone and figure out where I was. Although I’d given my other battery pack to Sam in PEI, I’d ordered a new one from Amazon and it was waiting for me at Mom’s in Nova Scotia when I arrived. I hadn’t really needed a portable charger until now, so I was pleased with that bit of planning. With Petunia now plugged in and charging, I hung out for about a half hour sipping and snacking.

In retrospect, it’s a good thing Petunia died when she did. Had she died either earlier or even a few minutes later, I would have been stuck on that slow moving freeway not knowing where to go or which exit to take. It turned out that I was only 11 kilometers from Tanya’s place. However, Petunia said it was going to take me another 45 minutes to drive those paltry 11 km. Ungh. Gross. Nevertheless, I was watered, fed, and was down to just my t-shirt under my jacket; much easier to take those high temps without all those layers.

I ended up spending another 5 days with Tanya. She was off work this time, so we had a lot more time to chill together. Jules was parked the whole visit with her fancy new 80/20 tires and I want to a spa.