Long day in the car: GPS got us through Chicago easily, but insisted that we cross into Canada at Port Huron, not Detroit. We were amazed at how insistent "she" was, and came to the conclusion that, somehow, the crossing at Port Huron was closer to our destination. The map seemed to suggest that it was pretty much the same, and, since I'm a creature of habit, I opted for Detroit. Poor GPS nearly had multiple digital heart attacks. Even when we were in Detroit, "she" insisted on driving the 60 miles north to Port Huron. As I tried to comprehend "her" directions, I missed the turn for the bridge and had to opt for the tunnel, which took us through downtown Windsor, adding minutes to an already long day. Never totally trust machines .... or trust them completely.
The weather was good and we sprinted home ... until we reached the GTA, where we encountered the worst traffic the entire trip. We went through Chicago's Friday morning traffic, and Detroit's Friday afternoon traffic, but Toronto's Friday evening traffic was absolutely ridiculous. Toronto does indeed have a traffic problem, and is, apparently, unwilling to do anything about it. Or, more to the point, the people caught in the problem are still willing to put up with the insanity because Toronto's a "big city" and this is what "big city life" is like. Stupid.
The finish line was the Lion and Firkin pub in Newmarket. Happily, our friends were all there and we surprised them with our arrival. A warm welcome and celebratory beer and food at the close of the race. Six thousand and eight hundred kilometers of stories and memories. It's good to be home !!
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