Tag Archives: last of the mohicans

Saturday 13th September 2025 – JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT …

… last night, I suddenly awoke, with another one of these quite dramatic awakenings.

And about five seconds after I awoke, I received a message on the telephone. It really was an astonishing coincidence, almost as if awakening five seconds before the message was in anticipation of its arrival.

It wasn’t all that much beforehand that I’d actually come to bed, after another one of the slow, depressing evenings that I seem to be having these days. And I was so tired, yet again, that I must have gone off quite rapidly to sleep. It’s a shame that I couldn’t have remained asleep, though, but then that’s what usually happens.

It took an age to go back to sleep too, but once I’d slipped into the arms of Morpheus, there I stayed until the alarm sounded. And that woke me up quite dramatically too, I can tell you.

At that moment, we were back in World War I when the Germans were storming a trench full of Greek soldiers. They had launched a few shells into a few Greek pill-boxes and stormed the trenches. There were piles of dead people around, so they went through, identified the wounded and shot them on the spot. There was one person who was a British officer leading a Greek troop. They questioned him about a few different things but as he didn’t have the correct answers to what they wanted, they shot him too. But we were working somewhere behind the lines, watching a captive balloon or Zeppelin or something that had escaped from its moorings and was flying at a very low height around the edge of the cliffs. We were worried that it would collide with the church steeple, so we were trying to work out a way, if we could, of diverting it away because if we were to fire at it, it would explode and that would make more damage. In the meantime, we had been repairing a few watches and things like that. We actually had one working, but then we decided that we weren’t happy so we dismantled it to have another attempt. At this moment, the girls came along and looked at what we were doing. They couldn’t understand why we had decided to do it a second time. I was talking to one of the guys about new technology and how powerful it was. He was saying that how he wished that he had bought a new 2GB memory stick while their prices were low, because a new 2GB one these days would cost $64. I replied that a 64GB one would only cost $2, the way that technology is going these days.

There’s a bit of everything in there. The bit about colliding with the steeple relates to a discussion that I had the other day with one of the taxi drivers, when we were watching the Nazguls flying around near the spire of the Eglise Notre Dame de Lihou. As for the rest, it seems to relate to little snippets of conversation that I’ve had now and again with different people.

After the bathroom and the medication, I came back in here to transcribe the dictaphone notes, but as you have already read them, I needn’t have bothered mentioning it.

The nurse was next, still in his cheerful mood, and then it was breakfast and a new book.

While I was reading COLONEL CARRINGTON’S TESTIMONY, I noticed that he had written several others and so I began today to read his BATTLE MAPS AND CHARTS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that IN 2013 and 2014 I roamed up and down the Hudson Valley in Upstate New York visiting the sites of the battles of the Revolutionary War and also of the Seven Years War of 1756-1763, including the site of Fort William Henry, the fort that featured prominently in Fenimore Cooper’s LAST OF THE MOHICANS

One of the places that I visited in 2013 was Fort Ticonderoga, and I noticed from Carrington’s description of the siege of the fort that "The Americans neglected to fortify Sugar Loaf Hill", a prominent eminence overlooking the fort, ⁣strong>"deeming it inaccessible.".

You probably noticed just now that STRAWBERRY MOOSE and I walked quite comfortably to the top, and so did several other people. And there’s still a British cannon up there that the British Army managed to drag up the hill.

After breakfast, I came in here to begin a new radio programme, and in fact I’m currently working on two of them right now because, halfway through choosing the music for one, I realised that I’d missed one. Still, variety is the spice of life.

When my faithful cleaner came down to apply my anaesthetic cream, she brought with her my electronic drum kit. That was a one-day wonder, that was. I bought it as a challenge, something to do during lockdown, but my legs gave out before I was able to master it.

It was the boss who came to fetch me today and we had quite a quick drive down to Avranches. I was connected up quite quickly too and then I could concentrate on Y Barri v Y Bala.

Y Bala had only conceded four goals all season up to date, but Y Barri doubled that total with comparative ease and could (and should) have had a bagful more except for the inspired performance of former Salford City goalkeeper Joel Torrance.

It was nevertheless an exciting game and you can see the highlights HERE if you are of such a mind.

Although I finished my dialysis earlier than usual, I had to wait to be unplugged, and then finally the boss brought me back in the most astonishing rainstorm that was engulfing Avranches.

Ironically, it wasn’t raining at Granville when I returned. It was a nice, leisurely walk back to my apartment in the howling gale, which has now been blowing for several days.

For a change, Tea tonight was a burger with baked potato – one of those luxury burgers that are really delicious. And now, I’m off to bed in the hope of a good lie-in tomorrow. I need one after all of this.

But I forgot to mention my ‘phone message from during the night. It reads "(we) will see you Friday November 7 for a few days fly back on November 11.". This visit from Canada looks as if it may well be happening.

But seeing as we have been talking about Ticonderoga and The Last of the Mohicans … "well, one of us has" – ed … it was at Ticonderoga where I told my famous story to one of the American tour guides.
Sent on a spying mission by Colonel Munro to find out about the French forces in Fort Ticonderoga, Hawkeye and Chingachgook approach the fort very carefully
"How many soldiers do you think there are in the fort?" asked Hawkeye.
Chingachgook lay down and put his ear to the ground. "About 300" he replied
"And how many cannon?"
Chingachgook lay down and put his ear to the ground again. "About 30"
"And how many horses?"
Chingachgook lay down and put his ear to the ground yet again. "About 60"
"And how many native allies?"
Chingachgook lay down and put his ear to the ground once more. "About 200"
"That’s incredible" said Hawkeye. "Can you tell all that by just lying down and listening to the ground?"
"Ohh no" replied Chingachgook. "If I lie down here like this and turn my head so that my ear is to the ground just like this, I can see right underneath the gates of the fort"
The response of the tour guide was "that’s incredible! I never knew that Hawkeye and Chingachgook came to Ticonderoga. I shall have to amend the tourist leaflets."
Which just goes to show, as Alfred Hitchcock and Kenneth Williams once famously said, "it’s a waste of time telling jokes to foreigners."

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Sunday 24th November 2024 – RIGHT NOW I’M IN …

… absolute agony yet again, having been standing on my feet for several hours.

It’s the lack of muscles in my knees that is causing the pain. If I want to stand up without my crutches, such as if I want to use my hands, I have to wedge my legs so that the knee-bones lock in a certain way and after a while it hurts like hell

Still the most important job of the week is done, even if several less-important ones have not so been.

Take the radio notes for example. Last night after I finished writing my notes I had the dictating of the radio notes to do – two lots of them. I was also having a chat on-line with my niece from Canada.

Her middle daughter, my great little niece (or is it “little great niece”?) was married a year ago and now lives in Michigan in the USA and her youngest daughter, another my great little niece (or is it “little great niece”?) is at “St. F-X” – St Francis Xavier University in Antigonish, Nova Scotia, the best University in Canada.

We’re planning a group meeting soon, a video chat on one of the on-line platforms seeing as we haven’t all seen each other for an age.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I was invited to the wedding in Michigan last November so I tried a “dummy run” to Belgium last September to see how I would cope with the journey on my crutches with just a backpack, but failed miserably so I didn’t manage to go to the USA.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … apartment I finished off the dictation, finished off the chat and crawled into bed much later than I would have liked.

When the alarm went off I fell out of bed and wandered off for a quick wash and brush up. It’s Sunday, I’ve had an hour’s lie in and the nurse will be here soon so I need to hurry.

But back in the bedroom I have a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I was during the night. The wind awoke me at 03:00 (not that I knew anything about it) but at that point I’d been off on an expedition with the native Americans. We’d paddled down the coast as far as we could to Florida and then walked back, describing a few of the tribes that we’d met and a few of their characteristics. Several of them were noted as lazy and several others had different epithets. In the end we said that it’s a far better representation of ourselves amongst the native Americans, we want to build a stronger fort to protect our settlement. He goes on to say that although there’s not a lot of land in each settlement they’ve crammed in many men, sometimes more men than the land is worth and they really need more soldiers going to serve as colonists so that they can have some kind of native element to protect the settlements against the French or the French can protect their own settlements against anyone, even the British who were currently their allies at the moment.

This reminds me of the book that I’m reading right now. Our author travels by water all the way down the St Lawrence River and then comes back on land.

But the conflict between the English and the French, with various native American tribes on different sides (or not as the case may be) went on all along the Hudson River valley and out into Ohio, Kentucky and Tennessee for the best part of a hundred years, on and off. It was a fierce, vicious war at times and was well-documented in stories such as Fenimore Cooper’s LAST OF THE MOHICANS

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that WE VISITED MANY OF THE BATTLEFIELD SITES in the Hudson valley in 2013 when we had that slow drive back to Montreal that took several weeks

We made it to Ticonderoga, Fort William Henry and all of the other places that Fenimore Cooper made famous in his “Leatherstocking Tales” of the Seven Years War in North America.

I’m not sure where I was but there was a choice of two cars. We had to choose one of three cars, An Austin Maxi, an Austin Princess HL and a Marina. I remember thinking that that’s the whole total of the British car output of the United Kingdom represented in that lot. We had a really good look round at them but couldn’t see anything or any reason to break any kind of monopoly position with Ford because there were quite a few issues with the British cars, even coming just straight off the production line and we couldn’t really at the time negotiating and repairing all of the bits that they needed to give us a car that we wanted

In the past I’ve had various cars and vans and I have to say that I’ve always returned to having Fords. I’m not sure what I’ll be having next. It’ll have to be whatever is available at the moment that has hand controls fitted.

The nurse turned up and was in chat mode today. She asked for my Carte Vitale – my health card – because she’ll be off on Tuesday and won’t be back until after the start of the next month so she has to make up her accounts.

After she left, I made breakfast and carried on reading my book. And I learned something new today.

Over the years, I have always wondered why the “District of Columbia” where the city of “Washington DC” is situated, is not included in the territory of any of the States. And thanks to Isaac Weld who was there at the time of its creation, now I know.

Congress used to meet in Philadelphia but at the end of the Revolutionary War it was besieged by discontented soldiers whose pay was in arrears. And the Pennsylvania State Government, in sympathy with the soldiers, refused to summon up the State’s forces of law and order quell the riot.

Consequently it was decided that there should be a territory created to house the Congress, where Congress itself could act as the local Government, issue by-laws, control the law enforcement officers and so on, and not be dependent upon any State authority.

In HIS BOOK he talks at great length about why that particular site was chosen. He is certainly very informative, if not garrulous.

Back in here, much later than usual thanks to the late arrival of the nurse, I had football to watch.

For some reason I couldn’t find a video of Stranraer’s game against Spartans. I later found out that the match had been postponed.

As for te Welsh football, there was one game missing – Hwlffordd v Y Bala, and it took an age to find that one.

The radio notes that I’d dictated were quite complicated. So far, I’ve only managed to finish editing one and I’m halfway through the other. I’m a long way from being where I wanted to be, with two radio programmes fully completed.

That’s because after the hot chocolate I set about dealing with the freezer.

It took much longer than you might imagine to unpack the two new drawers. Whoever packed them certainly deserves a medal because they would never be likely to break in that box, with all the padding that was around them.

Then I had to switch off the freezer, unplug it and take out all the drawers. Luckily, I’d put ice packs in there and they, being frozen solid, would help keep the contents cold.

Then I could attack the freezer with the hair dryer that I’d liberated the other week.

That took much longer too. I was surprised at just how much ice there was in there. And what didn’t help was that having put a towel at the front to catch the water that melts, the water actually drains out of the back.

For the time that it took, I was on my feet for several hours and hence the issue with my knees. But it was worth it because the freezer is now totally defrosted, the new drawers are in and filled, and you’d be surprised at how much room there is in there now.

At lunchtime I’d taken out some pizza dough from the freezer and that had been defrosting. When I finished with the freezer I rolled out the dough and later, assembled the pizza.

With no small tomatoes I had to use large ones sliced thinly. Nevertheless it took much longer to bake. However it was delicious all the same. Now I’m going to have a quick tidy-up of the packaging and then go to bed. It’s dialysis tomorrow.

But talking about the Last of the Mohicans … "well, one of us is" – ed … reminds me of Hawkeye and Chingachgook on their way to Fort Ticonderoga
After separating for a few days Hawkeye comes across Chingackgook with his ear to the ground.
"What is it, Chingachgook?" asks Hawkeye
"Stagecoach. French stagecoach" says Chingachgook. "Eight horses, two drivers, twelve passengers, five women, seven men. One driver, he have wart on side of face. Other driver, he have patch over left eye. "
"That’s astonishing" said Hawkeye. "You can tell all that by just lying there with your ear to the ground?"
"Oh no" replied Chingachgook. "Me standing here having little pause, and damn stagecoach ran me down"

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Wednesday 2nd October 2013 – I WAS ON THE ROAD EARLY THIS MORNING

So much so that if it wouldn’t have given me a guilty conscience I would have avoided paying the camp site fees. There was no-one around when i arrived, and no-one around when I was about to leave either. However, earlier in the morning, the patrolling ranger hand come by to chat to me because I wasn’t on his list, and he reminded me to pay at the gate “but you look like the honest sort anyway” – which just goes to show that they don’t know me very well around here.

fish road rainbow bay lake george new york usaI’ve been following Lake George northwards towards the head of the lake. Lake George is a cleft in the earth between two rather large solid lumps of limestone and this is another one of those places that quailfies for the Most Beautiful Places on Earth and as you can see.

Some of the views are stunning, specially when you consider that we are now in autumn and the leaves are turning. It’s definitely the best time to be here

boltons landing lake george new york usaI wouldn’t be here in the high summer though. It’s terribly trendy and frightfully twee, with the worst kind of boutiques all over the place, including the “Indian tepee” where you can buy genuine First-Nation artefacts, all dutifully stamped ‘made in China”.

That of course does remind me of the Indian who won first prize at the Boston Tea Party all those years ago. He was found next morning drowned in his tepee.

I did however meet a guy who, like me, lives with nothing but his solar panels and wind turbines, and runs his truck (an ancient Ford F250) on biodiesel. We had an extremely lengthy chat about all kinds of things, but going back to this summer thing, he was telling me that in the summer the population here is over 30,000 – but in winter they struggle to make 2,000.

silver bay YMCA camp lake george new york usaFurther along the Lake is a place called Silver Bay, and my first opinion was that it was one of those places that had “Strength Through Joy” that you found in Germany in the 1930s, churning out little Master Race clones, written all over it.

It turns out that I wasn’t all that far out either because further enquiry revealed that it is in fact a YMCA summer camp. Although I could do with getting myself clean and having a good meal, I didn’t want to hang out with all the boys and so I resolved to no hang around too long. But they get their money’s worth from a place like this.

As an aside, I should mention of course that out of season when there are no paying customers, the YMCA, so I was told, does open its doors to deprived children from the inner cities to give them a break, give them an experience of the countryside, and teach them leadership skills.

waterfront lot for sale lake george new york usaI made a few stops off along the route, for a variety of reasons, one of which was to look at this. It’s a tiny little waterfront lot with enough room to just about park a car and trailer, a storage shed, a boat ramp and a small dock.

The view from here is totally stunning as you can see, and furthermore, it’s for sale. I’ve determined to find out the price of the lot and if you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s because I’ll be lying down in a darkened room recovering.

fort ticonderoga lake champlain new york usaBut really why I’m here of course is to visit Fort Ticonderoga, or Fort Carillon as it was known when it was in French hands (even though in “The Last of the Mohicans” they insisted on calling it Fort Ticonderoga throughout). It’s the scene of several abject British military disasters and when you read this litany of errors it really does make you wonder how come the British managed to rule a quarter of the globe.

Failing to sweep away a defensive line from behind an earthen bank when you have a numerical superiority of over 4 to 1 and so abandoning a battle, even though your casualties are no more excessive than the defenders’. Or else a sentry fleeing from a charge of half a dozen enemy scouts, dashing into the fort to seek safety, and forgetting to close the gate behind him. I can go on and on … "not with a bayonet through your neck you can’t" – ed .

lake champlain lake george fort ticonderoga new york vermont usaThe purpose of Fort Ticonderoga was to control the entry from Montreal down into the Hudson Valley to New York (or, more precisely, the reverse of that route). That’s Lake Champlain right there ahead of us in this photo taken with the sun streaming into the lens of the camera (sorry about that), and that on the right is the river that goes into the interior where there are several portages and then you reach Lake George. All the river traffic that travelled between New York and Montreal – freight as well as British soldiers on the way to attack Montreal – had to come out of that little bay on the right.

Of course, when Fort Ticonderoga was finally captured by British (it wasn’t, by the way, despite what British history books might say – the French abandoned it round about the time that Québec fell to the British under General Wolfe) it served no useful purpose and so a further fort – Crown Point – was commenced a few miles further north and this time, facing northwards to watch out for the French advancing from the North to try to retake their possessions around here.

However, the rather dramatic collapse of the French in Upper Canada in 1759-60 rendered that fort unnecessary so some rather half-built ruins are all that remain. They are said to be in a spectacular setting and so that’s where I’m off to tomorrow.

But tomorrow morning I’ll show you all a photo of the view from my “bedroom” window here at Ticonderoga.

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Tuesday 1st October 2013 – I’VE BEEN TRAVELLING BACKWARDS TODAY

And that might explain this awfully stiff neck that I have – unless I didn’t swallow the Viagra quickly enough last night.

18th cntury cannon firing real round fort william henry new yorkFirst stop was back to Fort William Henry to watch an artillery demonstration – a real period cannon firing a real cannon ball. Certainly impressive, definitely noisy, and quite successful. Much more successful than Colonel Munro’s artillery that were badly constructed and kep blowing up – there’s a lovely piece of a 32-pound cannon, that they found well-embedded in the soil, on display here at the fort.

And I learnt something new today too, and that was why no cannon was ever raised more than 5° from the horizontal even though that meant a huge loss of range. The answer was that in general it meant very little in loss of range but much more accuracy, which is a strange thing to say. With a high elevation, you need pinpoint accuracy because when the ball lands, it buries itself in the soil. With a low elevation, it skimmed across the surface like a flat stone across the lake, and this could increase the range and also increase the likelihood of hitting something.

From here I went off to look for Fort Edward, the fort that controlled the frontier around here and to which the survivors of Fort William Henry were fleeing when they were butchered by the Iroquois. I drove past it yesterday, simply for the reason that it isn’t signposted at all from the main road, being on private land. The guy here at Fort William Henry gave me a few pointers and off I went.

fort edward new york usa
And here is the site, in someone’s back garden, although the fort was very much bigger than this of course. It was totally destroyed by the Americans during the Revolutionary War to stop the British from fortifying it, and yet when some of these house-owners were digging down underneath their houses to make cellars, they were churning out all kinds of artefacts, many of which are in a little museum in the town (although, of course, many were simply sold on eBay).

There have been a few archaeological digs and searches on a few of the properties and all kinds of things have been unearthed, all of which is quite exciting. Not as exciting as what was to happen next, though, for we are about to have another Red Bay or Albion experience.

timbers recovered from river hudson fort edward new york
Expressing quite an interest in this kind of thing and, I suppose, being quite knowledgeable, I was engaged in quite a chat with the local museum curator, and after a while he beckoned me into the back room. “Good job I’m wearing my chastity belt” I mused.

However, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it but I’ve been encountering a lot of dredging along the Hudson just now, and the dredgers were here a short while ago and they encountered something solid just off the banks of the river where the fort was. It turned out that they had hooked a couple of squared-off timbers that have in all probability been part of the fort and were thrown into the river by the retreating Americans. The dark peaty silt on the bottom of the river has preserved them.

Anyway, I’m apparently the first layman to lay my hands upon them, which is something of an honour, I suppose.

thrilling incident of Jane McCrea Fort Edward New York
One of the things that we discuss every now and again is the dramatic change in language over a period of time, and here’s a classic example of this. This describes “one of the most thrilling events in the annals of the American Revolution”, and so today you would be gripping the edges of your seats in eager anticipation.

But back using the contemporary language of the end of the 18th Century your heart would be fluttering as you read the tragic story of young Jane McCrea. She was 17 (according to one account, and as old as 24 in another, and varying ages in between according to more accounts) and she was travelling in the country to visit her fiancé (and so 17 would be a good bet if you ask me) when she was seized by two native Americans working as scouts for the British soldiers.

These Native Americans couldn’t decide amongst themselves which one had captured her first and so was entitled to … errr … do the honours, you might say, and so in an age-old tribal custon, they decided to cut her in two so that each one could have a half.

I can imagine that if such an event were to happen today, poor Jane McCrea would be less than thrilled by the outcome of events.

Fort Ann was the last place to visit today. Known as Fort Schuyler when it was a Dutch possession, there have been 5 forts here at Fort Ann although today not a single vestige remains of any of them.
combined lock 16 17 Champlain Canal Fort Ann New YorkIt is however a strategic place on the route of the Champlain Canal, because, rarely, all three routes of the canal pass within 100 yards of each other here. The first route, known in the vernacular as “Clinton’s Ditch” … "Ditch with a “D” – we aren’t talking about Monica Lewinski" – ed … was modernised and rerouted in the 1850s when new technology permitted wider boats and deeper locks, and the old canal at Fort Ann, just to the right of these locks, was converted into a dry dock for repairs.

On the 1850s canal, new technology meant that they could experiment with “combined locks”, where two locks were immediately adjacent to each other and shared a common central gate. This is combined lock 16 and 17 and the central gate is just behind where the staircase is, the recess for the first gate being seen in the immediate foreground.

From here I stopped at Walmart to do a final food shop for my journey. There I encountered a woman with a face like a wet weekend in Weymouth. “Do you know”, I said, “you look exactly how I feel”.
She burst into laughter, said “well, at least that comment made me smile” and shuffled off down another aisle. Ahh well.

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Monday 30th September 2013 – THE FRENCH ARE COMING! THE FRENCH ARE COMING!

strawberry moose fort william henry lake george new yorkAnd even if it is General Montcalm and his Abenakis allies about to wreak havoc on the British soldiers and massacre their prisoners on the plain in front of the fort, there’s no need to worry because as well as Hawkeye and Chingachcook, Strawberry Moose is there ready to repel all boarders – and a few … "you said that yesterday" – ed .

Where I am is at the infamous Fort William Henry, another one of those humiliating episodes in British Military History in North America where, due to an insufficient lookout and picket, Lt-Col Munro allowed the fort to be enircled by Montcalm’s French troops and Iroquois allies and whose superior artillery (which should never have been allowed to land if the look-out had been up to much) battered the fort into submission.

Although the story of the subsequent massacre of the captive women and children was grossly exaggerated by Fenimore Cooper in The Last of the Mohicans, there was certainly a considerable slaughter here outside the fort as the Iroquois, drunk on the rum looted from the fort and having been denied any say in the peace process thus feeling cheated of their right to obtain scalps and other booty from the occupants of the fort, were determined to seek redress.

So this morning after my relaxing stay at the camp site at Schaghticoke last night, I hit the road.

soil polluted by PCBs schuylerville new yorkFirst stop was at Schuylerville, the old “Saratoga” and a pretty place it is too. But this sign isn’t so pretty. The ground is so polluted by PCBs that it’s against the law to dig in the soil – no use trying to grow potatoes and the like here, even if not a couple of hundred yards from where I’m standing there are corn fields and all kinds of things.

But tha corn is not of course intended for human consumption – it’s for animal feed (and humans will then eat the animals)and so that’s ok. But it’s frightening all the same, what’s happening to the world’s food supplies.

lock 12 old champlain canal hudson valley new yorkYesterday I showed you a photo of a lock on the Champlain Canal. Before the modernisation of the Hudson navigation, there was an “Old Champlain Canal” that was on a much smaller scale. I’ve been following that today too, and I reckoned that I would show you a photo of a lock on here. This is in fact Lock 12 and it’s a little different, isn’t it?

Still, for a canal that was built in 1832 the masonry is in surprisingly good condition although the amount of neglect of the canal and the amount of route that has been lost means that it will never be opened again, which is a shame.

A little further up the road is a town called Glen Falls and while there is nothing to see here (the falls have, like many on the Hudson, been oveebuilt with barrages for hydro-electric power) it has its own excitement. On Lap Three of the circuit of trying to find my way out of the town , I noticed a place called “Mailing Made Easy” – a kind-of boutique which guarantees to find the cheapest method of mailing parcels. Too good an opportunity to miss and so I took the Roland amp that I had bought. They told me the price and, picking myself up off the floor, I packed it because $35:02 was too good a price to miss out on.

And it’s not going on a snail’s back either – delivery 2/3 weeks they say, which may well be before I get home and certainly before I get back from my next stint in Brussels. And so, Liz and Terry, if you read this before I get in touch with you, I’m sorry that I didn’t ask you if you will take in a parcel for me, but I had to make an on-the-spot executive decision, and with it being an executive decision, if it is the wrong decision, then you can execute me when I return home.

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Wednesday 25th September 2013 – CROSS-BORDER INCIDENTS

We’ve had one of those today.

I’ve left Rachel and Darren’s, and I’m back on the road again, heading South-West, and that of course takes me over the border into Great Satan.

Just for a change, I crossed over the border at River du Chute, a tiny little part-time border crossing up near my piece of land, where I woke up the border guard. It’s clear, in some internal staff regulation somewhere, that border patrols have to give “the works” to a certain number of border-crossers every hour, and so when you haven’t had anyone across your border for three weeks, then this is your one chance in a lifetime to take out the thumb-screws.

This interrogation included the legendary conversation –
Border Guard “Why are you crossing over here?”
Our Hero “Why not?”
BG “Where have you come from?”
OH “Centreville”
BG “So why didn’t you cross over there?”
OH “Because I wanted to cross over here”

And so we then had the full search of the Dodge. I suppose it might have been different had I answered the questions differently, but seriously, just how DO you answer questions like that and keep a straight face? It was also the first time that I have ever been asked to show my driving licence.

But if anyone wants a finer example of the fear and paranoia that is gripping the citizens of the United States, you son’t eed to look further than this. It was just like trying to cross the border into the Soviet Union back in the 1970s and I’m waiting for someone in authority in the USA to admit that maybe the Soviets had a point. 50 years of destroying Communism and then they install the worst aspects of it in their own country.

Pillarks.

mennonite horse buggy with cornBut anyway, having manipulated my way across the border and inspected the old cars and tractors, and manoeuvred my way around the Mennonite horse buggy convoys transporting the corn that they have been harvesting, I was off on the next stage of my adventures.

At Presque Ile I built up the supplies again, and I also bought a new bed. This bed is really nice and comfortable but it’s rather Heath-Robinson and extremely difficult to manoeuvre around, and impractical when there’s more than one of you in the vehicle. And as well as that, having been screwed and unscrewed so many times, the fixture is weakening. However today, at Walmart they were selling a real “Coleman” folding camp-bed with mattress, and I don’t mean one of these cheap and nasty cots but a proper lightweight bed with springing and the like, and all for $50. That’s much more convenient and easy to store.
Now what I’m doing is heading to Albany in New York because I want to go back to Montreal via Lake Champlain and the Richelieu Valley, the route of the “Last of the Mohicans”, and so I’ve drawn a straight line on the map between the two points and I’m doing my best to follow it.

triumph herald convertible left hand drive ashland maine usaThis route is producing some stunning scenery, not the least of which is this early Triumph Herald 948 convertible. When was the last time that you saw one of these in the UK, never mind anywhere else? I didn’t know that they exported these to North America, and this one is Left-Hand Drive, as you can see.

But it shows you the demise of the British motor industry when just 50 years ago they were selling all kinds of marginal products to different places all around the world, and 10 years ago they couldn’t even sell anything in their own country. I can’t recall any other manufacturing base that has collapsed so quickly and so completely.

My route has also taken me over the 100-mile dirt-track Highway 159 into the Baxter State Park and it’s here that I’m staying the night. And it was here that my good fortune ran out because not only was I nabbed for the gate fee, I was also nabbed for the campsite fees. Still, the first this year after all of the “visiting” that I had done to date. I’m not complaining too much.

Anyway, it might only be 19:30 but I am totaly whacked, so I’ll see you all again in the morning.

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Wednesday 20th October 2010 – I ALMOST FORGOT TO BLOG TONIGHT.

Yes, I was about to go to bed for an early night. I’m in Corner Brook for my last night in Newfoundland – a B&B in a private house at $50 for the night and they even let me use the kitchen to cook my tea from my supplies.

puncture casey chrysler pt cruiser canadian tires clarenville newfoundland canadaSo a cheap night tonight – but it needed to be, because this morning I had a nasty surprise. Casey had a flat tyre. 2000 miles down the worst roads in the world and not a thing, and a puncture on the Trans-Canada Highway. And so off to Canadian Tyres it had to be.

But it wasn’t all doom and gloom because they were having a sale of inverters – and I picked up a 75-watt and a 150-watt for just $19.98 for the pair.
And then, incredibly, at Walmart, a 40-watt slow cooker for just $9:99. So off to the dollar store for a pile of tins and so on and I now have all that I need to cook my meals in the car as I drive.

newfoundland railway ruins bridge joeys lookout gambo canadaWe’ve talked about the Newfoundland railway before and every so often I’d been encountering relics that looked very, very railway-like.

Here from my good spec up on Joey’s Lookout, whoever Joey might have been, near Gambo, I had this view and I don’t think that I’ve ever seen anything looking more like a railway line than this. It’s ironic in a sense that the railway, the 20th Century form of transport, has cut off access to the bay for boats, the previous method of transport around here

douglas dc3 dakota cockpit gander air museum newfoundland canadaAnother good stroke of fortune was that the Air Museum at Gander was open and while the girl in charge knew nothing about the missing artefacts she did know two authors of aviation books who are “friends” of the museum.

One of these men worked on the project for the replica flight of Alcock and Brown’s Vimy to celebrate the 75th anniversary. So if anyone knows anything about these objects one of these will.

hunter trapper selling rabbits by roadside gander newfoundland canadaOutside the museum was a fur trapper selling rabbits that he had trapped.

This took me by surprise. I thought that they only did things like that in the Last of the Mohicans but here he was – a genuine 21st Century trapper doing his stuff at the side of a main road in the middle of civilisation. If you were to read this in a novel you wouldn’t believe it.

newfoundland railway relics elmwood bridge canadaA little further on I can actually get in touch with the railway line.

This is a beautiful bow girder bridge across the river at Elmwood. And having been for a little walk along the line, I can tell you that it’s single-track and judging by the radii of some of the curves, narrow gauge too.

So now I know.

bed and breakfast guest house corner brook newfoundland canadaSo now it’s an early night in my guest house at Corner Brook.

There won’t be a posting tomorrow as I’m spending the night on this 7-hour crossing to Cape Breton Island where I’ll be picking up where I left off from my 2003 voyage.

And if I don’t blog the night after, it will be either because wherever I will be staying won’t have internet access, or else the ferry will have sunk. And don’t laugh about that either. On October 14th 1942 the Caribou, one of the predecessors of the ship I’ll be sailing on, was torpedoed by a U boat while crossing over the Gulf of St Lawrence.

And the ship I’ll be sailing on – it’s the first voyage since its rudder and steering gear have been repaired. So anything can happen – and it probably will, but I’ve got my Strawberry Moose to keep me warm.

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