The road to Fergus Ontario

A hot hot day with the sunroof open – cutting through western New York through those small towns which seem depressed even on a sunny day. Farmland for sale, developments springing up in pastures. I got a good sunburn on my shoulders and back, and the dog curled up in his furniture blanket – don’t worry I told him, Alaska will make up for it.

I got stopped at the border after admitting to a firearm. The Canadians were oh so confused with their new building of immigration – “We’re not sure where we’re going to process this Sir. Do you have vaccination papers for the dog?”

A couple more vested folks came out. They recorded the serial number and model on the Winchester 30.06. Then one took me aside.

“Sir, I smell weed. Do you smoke weed?”

“No I don’t.”

“You sure?”

“Far as I know.”

In I went to that building which people looked lost in, and fairly confused. A woman knifed and armed to the gills asked me for papers on the gun. Papers? She wore an engagement ring and had a ponytail.

“I’m not sure what papers you have in mind.”

She kept on writing.

“Sir, you seemed dazed. Are you on Meds?”

I explained that I had just gotten out of a truck after driving 8 hours. She then sent me to the cashier, who was very confused and sent me back to the woman – who admitted, in a generous show of humor, to being dazed herself.

And off we went, to Fergus, as the light faded. It might have been in Scotland this town. Although I’m not sure if the Fergus in Scotland – there’s gotta be one – has a Curling Club.

So I got to Daemon’s place, and was greeted by a good number of chickens. And a number of hairless American terriers wearing dirty pajamas sewed with their names. It became clear that Cal was not going to fit in. Thank goodness for sweet Linda, who offered to take the old guy from to her house. I followed her in her MG – Mathilda looked, well, almost obscene behind it – and Cal immediately made himself at home by annoying the koi, each worth a couple thousand according to Linda, and peeing on the Lilies of the Valley.

We took the dog for a walk and he found a sweet creek, and then I showered and chilled in their spectacular place – yoga studio, retreat area. The timber-framed structure built by mennonites was truly impressive.

We hung with the chickens, and took pictures of the dogs. I went down to Main Street and had some fish and chips and a beer. Coming back, walking up the one hill in Fergus, saw a couple at the top of the hill, backlit by the setting sun, which nearly brought me to tears.

The next day I fooled around in the yoga studio, watched Boston lose in the last minute to the Canucks, and generally retreated from it all.

The next morning I picked up Cal and we piled into the truck. Following the windy 6 we finally made it to the boundaries of Fergus – where a cop did a U-turn and pulled me over. I managed to get a pic of him in my mirror.

“Couldn’t figure out where those plates are from…”

They’re temporary in-transit plates – basically a piece of cardboard. Neverthless this was confusing, as he had made that U-turn and tailed me for a good mile.

In any case I found my registration, which happened to be next to a bunch of rifle shells – which freaked the cop out. I thought he was going to drag me out of the truck. But I showed him my papers, and off I went – all too eager to get back into the States – but thankful for the moments of ease in Fergus.