It's a nice morning to be on the road. Tim's as usual for an extra large coffee, last night's cash into the gas tank, and I'm on my way. Woodstock is a pretty nice looking town. Close to the international border, close to Fredericton. Not too sleepy, but still has that small town feel. Big old trees, big old frame houses. I like these rambling frame structures. You see them all across the Maritime region, and also into Maine, Vermont, upstate New York.

Back on the TransCanada Highway. Northbound now, taking my time to save gas. I've got the cruise on and I'm moving into the New Brunswick highlands. Lots of trees and rocks here. It's mills and mining and big, open spaces. There's been less snow here, but sections of road are still covered, and the sky is now hinting at another drop. I'm warm. The motor is humming quietly. Life could be better, but it's not bad. I'm wondering how Big Dave is doing out in Winnipeg. I'm still thinking about how bad the returns were on Atlantic Canada this year. I'm thinking about next year's National Steel Tour with Morgan Davis. I'm pretty much committed to being out here, but I don't know if this Tour can support two artists with the economy being as it is. I've got to raise revenues and cut expenses if this is to work...

The phone rings. It's Big Dave! We have a chat and catch up on our travels and concerns. Where am I? Hey, I'm crossing into Quebec now! Does that mean I pay more, or less for gas? I pass by the big, Irving gas station at the border. Why? I don't know. I just can't be bothered to stop. I want to make Quebec City before dark. Time change. That should help. I like going west...

Snow behind me now, I roll into eastern Quebec. Lumpy little Laurentian wannabe hills, the St. Laurence river on my right. Narrow, little farm fields left over from the original land grants here. Everybody got a piece of the river, I guess. Soon it is getting dark. The lights of Quebec City twinkle across the river. I wonder if I could still get a ferry across from Levis? I'm tired. I'm driving. I keep going to the Big Pont, across, and into the twisted streets of the Old City.