Day 17, Monday, September 5, Mingan, Quebec, on or near the St. Lawrence Seaway.

I am sitting in my tent, my wet tent that is, in the northeast section of Quebec, overlooking some ocean-like body of water that I think is the St. Lawrence.  It is raining hard out, which seems to be the rule on this trip, and not the exception.  Also, as a rule, my dogs a sound asleep beside me.  I still wonder what makes them so tired each day.

Last night, after  alighting from that terrible ship voyage, we found a cozy refuge in a very nice but very wet municipal camp on the dunes.  We finished setting up camp just before the heavy rains came and dark set it ( Dark comes at 7 here).  

Speaking of the ship voyage, I forgot to write yesterday that as I sat under my tarp on the freezing deck, getting drenched with the water spilling over the starboard side where we camped, I decided to play some of my music  loaded onto my iPad, as the ship listed from side to side.  I pulled out my iPad, clicked on iPod and then Music, and then Songs, and the list of songs appeared,  alphabetically.  The very first one (I am not kidding) was Abandon Ship, one of the 52 pieces on the American Bugcle CD I loaded.  Needless to say, I did not want to invite any bad omen,  so I put iPad away and tried to get some shut-eye, which amazingly I did.  

Tomorrow we head down the St. Lawrence to somewhere,  I do  not know.  I am trying to drive fewer miles these days since I have no more schedules to make.   As I meet people from Quebec  along the way, I am getting good suggestions on interesting places to camp, which is really what the rest of this trip will be about.  It is all ad hoc from here.

As I thought  about the trip so far, I  realized that I met my tough schedule right on target, every campsite we found was the best, we did everything we set out to do and see and more, and nothing seriously befell us.  I knew what life on the road was all about, so I did not set our to be some serious thinking. All serious thoughts get pulled down inside by the  gravity of the grind of the road.  But it doesn't mean they don't get some consideration as these trips have a way of juggling one's  priorities by proxy, without one even knowing it.

The Defender is doing well, relatively speaking; the dogs are still in their element, over the trauma of the ship Voyage, and ahave gotten used to the routine of three or four new places a day, and I have reduced my time of setting up the tent from one hour on Day 1 to 10 minutes tonight, and the tent was soaking wet too.  (That is more important to me these days than earthquakes in DC or the stock market.) That means I am into the stride of this thing all the way.  I do wish the rain would stop, though.  We have had more  rain, wind or cold than nice balmy days. But despite the rain, wind and cold, I would rather have these than the oppressive heat of DC.

Ed