It’s been thirteen years since the Canada trip.
How could time have flown by so fast?
It was a month-long adventure that I won’t forget.
Especially that sunrise along the St. Lawrence Seaway.
We were traveling in the hinterland between cities.
We were determined to follow the Seaway to its source.
It was getting dark, so our attention was for a place to sleep.
We feared we might have to sleep in the car.
Then suddenly a small sign appeared on the side of the road.
We were desperate so we took a chance.
The person in the small shack labeled “Office” only spoke French.
But his wife knew English.
She told us she would give us her best room.
“You can’t drink the water, but it’s good for a shower.”
The price was absurdly cheap.
I was skeptical, but what was the alternative?
The “Best” room looked like it was once a chicken coop.
There was a small bed with a hundred-year-old mattress
along with a chair and a small lamp on a night stand,
and “Do Not Drink The Water” sign on the bathroom door.
We ate a snack and then turned in for the night.
The bed spring poking into my back irritated me for hours!
I finally gave up any hope of sleep and spent the night in the chair.
It seemed like hours before the first glimmer of daylight.
I made my way to the shoreline in anticipation of sunrise.
In the predawn light I saw the silhouette of a lone fisherman.
He sat on a plastic bucket holding a long pole.
That sight became the primary remembrance for the entire trip.
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