The Blue Water Bridge looked tragically clogged with traffic. Usually,
on Monday of a three-day weekend, traffic returning to America will be
backed up to the suspension bridge's hump. One has to wait to cross
the line to be welcomed back to Michigan, marked by an official sign.
And don't turn on your cell phones. It's advantageous for Canadian
phone services to pick up your data request, and a megabyte of
information can cost more than 15 dollars. I remembered to switch off
my phone a mile east of the Blue Water Bridge, and a 15 cent charge
showed up on my bill. Glad I turned off my cell phone that day back in
March 2009. Could you imagine ones cellphone racking up a fifteen cent
per mile charge just for pinging signal towers? This is why, after
getting off 402 at Front Street in Sarnia, I check the bridge traffic.
I can usually see traffic backed-up midway; if so, I set off for
Sombra "Shopping" Village, 40 kilometers south of Sarnia. It's a
delightful drive, and I rather drive extra miles than idle in my car.
Especially without cell phone service at American rates. It really is 40 KM to Sombra, which translates to 24 miles. And it
takes one about an hour to reach there on the riverside parkway.
Canadians are not know for speeding. So the car in front of you will
be a Buick driving 39 Kilometers an hour. Okay, I've met a few
Canadians who speed, but it's only on the 401 somewhere between London
and Toronto and we can understand that. In fact, it is now a surprise
to see Ontario Provincial Police monitoring the 402 and even more
surprising to see someone pulled over. I noticed the change right
around the time the Conservatives took power in the country. Not a few
years ago, I was pulled over by a police officer in Canada for having
a headlamp out, and he gave me a nice request to have it fixed. Then,
he gave me directions to the Honest Lawyer Pub in downtown London,
Ontario. Why do I emphasize that it is really 40 KM to Sombra from
Sarnia. It's the 26 Kilometer paradox on the Canadian highways. If a
sign says 24 Kilometers to Toronto, you are really about to cross
border into Toronto proper. I think distance signs were set in place
before most Canadian cities expanded their borders. I had to make a stop at Coffee Culture in downtown Sarnia for the
Pecan Butter Tarts and coffee. A cheerful woman behind the counter
excitedly took my American currency. She has a deal with the owner to
accept the American dollars, which she takes to Boyne City and
Mackinaw Island to spend. The butter tarts are out-of-this-world and
simply don't taste right when served in the States. From the window of
Coffee Culture, I could see the proud facade of the Acheson YMCA on
the waterfront. Don't you just love it when millionaires show civic
pride by taking on waterfront renewal, starting by fixing up the boat,
Highlander Sea. My daughter slept a few nights on the Coast Guard
Cutter, the Bramble, which is docked near the Highlander Sea's home at
the "Bean Dock", or the Port Huron International Terminal. Just north of Corunna, Ontario, one passes through an Indian enclave
where Chippewas have lived in Sarnia since 1827, or at least under the
name of a village. It has a number of small stores, some simply
trailers, where one can buy interesting blends of tobacco. I didn't
stop for these or in Corunna for a Cuban cigar, but the thought gave
me pause. One also passes through quaint villages of Courtright and
Mooretown with aging, lowering 19th brick commercial buildings. When
some of these buildings get an uplift, the architect preserves the
brickwork facade. I saw an example of this from the front door of
Coffee Culture in Sarnia. I think I left Sarnia around 3:40 PM, and after driving through the
chemical and cogeneration facilities on the river south of that town,
I enjoyed a twenty minute cruise along fields and forests, waterfront
homes and boathouses. I saw a grand yacht and it looked like a
chartered cruiser, but it might have been a private ship. I was
driving 40 miles an hour when I passed it, and it was keeping up
nicely. In Sombra, I counted 18 cars in line on the jetty, but the
service was running two ferries. I didn't get on the first ferry, the
Aldean I think, but had to wait ten minutes more to board a smaller
ferry, capacity for twelve cars. On the other side of the customs
building, the Canadian customs made short work of the arrivals, all
cars quickly on their way. The owner of a car, an Eddie Bower Explorer
with Illinois plates, was expressing his concern with the ferry
attendant managing the line. "I saw three cars board the ferry who had
arrived after us. Those three cars in the line next to us, will they
be made to wait?" The ferry attendant, who wore a shirt with a wolf
image and the words, "Untamed Spirit", didn't flinch. "All boarding
proceeds in order". And that was it. We were free of the Sarnia dock at 4:27 and I was free of customs in
Marine City by 4:42 PM, and I spent most of that time waiting for
American customs to clear ten cars, two Triumph motorcycles and a RV
trailer. I felt creeped out when I had to pop my trunk and the agent
yelled my license plate number to an agent at the window. But then he
passed back my passport and I was repatriated, and I was rolling. At this point, I had chance to catch 96 going north to Port Huron and
then 69 West to Lansing, but I decided to hug the St. Claire River
going north, M-29, which goes by the name of the Busha Freeway. I
sometimes call my mom when I run this road. Why don't you call your
Busha the next time you drive the Busha Freeway. In East China
Township, I was stunned to see a tree stump carved into a "manstack",
those stacks of stones balanced to look like a man. When an artist
pulls off a brilliant concept, I want contact information, but I saw
nothing in the yard. I didn't have a decent camera in the car, so it
looks like I'm calling the Chamber of Commerce. I'm typing this essay at the house computer of the St. Clair Inn,
which was built by civic minded citizens of St. Clair, Michigan in
1926 to serve the steamship trade from Detroit. I can imagine
passengers debarking from steamships on the handsome, weather silvered
docks along the river, one of the Great Lakes famous boardwalks.
Sadly, the lot is almost empty, despite room rates from 55 dollars to
85 dollars a night. The style of the Inn is baronial, English Tudor to
be exact, and I'm looking at armchairs with carved lions on the
armrests. I walked in looking for a Red Bull at the River Front bar,
but no bartender attended the well-appointed, well-timbered chamber.
All the windows view the wide St. Claire River, which makes the
Mississippi River look muddy and narrow by compare. A long patio along
blue water river sports wrought iron tables and chairs, each with a
yellow umbrella, all down, and four cocktail glasses served as the
only guests. I didn't see any ice in the glasses, so it's been a long
time since glasses were placed out there. Now it's onward to Port
Huron and then over to West Michigan. Homeward Bound!
on Monday of a three-day weekend, traffic returning to America will be
backed up to the suspension bridge's hump. One has to wait to cross
the line to be welcomed back to Michigan, marked by an official sign.
And don't turn on your cell phones. It's advantageous for Canadian
phone services to pick up your data request, and a megabyte of
information can cost more than 15 dollars. I remembered to switch off
my phone a mile east of the Blue Water Bridge, and a 15 cent charge
showed up on my bill. Glad I turned off my cell phone that day back in
March 2009. Could you imagine ones cellphone racking up a fifteen cent
per mile charge just for pinging signal towers? This is why, after
getting off 402 at Front Street in Sarnia, I check the bridge traffic.
I can usually see traffic backed-up midway; if so, I set off for
Sombra "Shopping" Village, 40 kilometers south of Sarnia. It's a
delightful drive, and I rather drive extra miles than idle in my car.
Especially without cell phone service at American rates. It really is 40 KM to Sombra, which translates to 24 miles. And it
takes one about an hour to reach there on the riverside parkway.
Canadians are not know for speeding. So the car in front of you will
be a Buick driving 39 Kilometers an hour. Okay, I've met a few
Canadians who speed, but it's only on the 401 somewhere between London
and Toronto and we can understand that. In fact, it is now a surprise
to see Ontario Provincial Police monitoring the 402 and even more
surprising to see someone pulled over. I noticed the change right
around the time the Conservatives took power in the country. Not a few
years ago, I was pulled over by a police officer in Canada for having
a headlamp out, and he gave me a nice request to have it fixed. Then,
he gave me directions to the Honest Lawyer Pub in downtown London,
Ontario. Why do I emphasize that it is really 40 KM to Sombra from
Sarnia. It's the 26 Kilometer paradox on the Canadian highways. If a
sign says 24 Kilometers to Toronto, you are really about to cross
border into Toronto proper. I think distance signs were set in place
before most Canadian cities expanded their borders. I had to make a stop at Coffee Culture in downtown Sarnia for the
Pecan Butter Tarts and coffee. A cheerful woman behind the counter
excitedly took my American currency. She has a deal with the owner to
accept the American dollars, which she takes to Boyne City and
Mackinaw Island to spend. The butter tarts are out-of-this-world and
simply don't taste right when served in the States. From the window of
Coffee Culture, I could see the proud facade of the Acheson YMCA on
the waterfront. Don't you just love it when millionaires show civic
pride by taking on waterfront renewal, starting by fixing up the boat,
Highlander Sea. My daughter slept a few nights on the Coast Guard
Cutter, the Bramble, which is docked near the Highlander Sea's home at
the "Bean Dock", or the Port Huron International Terminal. Just north of Corunna, Ontario, one passes through an Indian enclave
where Chippewas have lived in Sarnia since 1827, or at least under the
name of a village. It has a number of small stores, some simply
trailers, where one can buy interesting blends of tobacco. I didn't
stop for these or in Corunna for a Cuban cigar, but the thought gave
me pause. One also passes through quaint villages of Courtright and
Mooretown with aging, lowering 19th brick commercial buildings. When
some of these buildings get an uplift, the architect preserves the
brickwork facade. I saw an example of this from the front door of
Coffee Culture in Sarnia. I think I left Sarnia around 3:40 PM, and after driving through the
chemical and cogeneration facilities on the river south of that town,
I enjoyed a twenty minute cruise along fields and forests, waterfront
homes and boathouses. I saw a grand yacht and it looked like a
chartered cruiser, but it might have been a private ship. I was
driving 40 miles an hour when I passed it, and it was keeping up
nicely. In Sombra, I counted 18 cars in line on the jetty, but the
service was running two ferries. I didn't get on the first ferry, the
Aldean I think, but had to wait ten minutes more to board a smaller
ferry, capacity for twelve cars. On the other side of the customs
building, the Canadian customs made short work of the arrivals, all
cars quickly on their way. The owner of a car, an Eddie Bower Explorer
with Illinois plates, was expressing his concern with the ferry
attendant managing the line. "I saw three cars board the ferry who had
arrived after us. Those three cars in the line next to us, will they
be made to wait?" The ferry attendant, who wore a shirt with a wolf
image and the words, "Untamed Spirit", didn't flinch. "All boarding
proceeds in order". And that was it. We were free of the Sarnia dock at 4:27 and I was free of customs in
Marine City by 4:42 PM, and I spent most of that time waiting for
American customs to clear ten cars, two Triumph motorcycles and a RV
trailer. I felt creeped out when I had to pop my trunk and the agent
yelled my license plate number to an agent at the window. But then he
passed back my passport and I was repatriated, and I was rolling. At this point, I had chance to catch 96 going north to Port Huron and
then 69 West to Lansing, but I decided to hug the St. Claire River
going north, M-29, which goes by the name of the Busha Freeway. I
sometimes call my mom when I run this road. Why don't you call your
Busha the next time you drive the Busha Freeway. In East China
Township, I was stunned to see a tree stump carved into a "manstack",
those stacks of stones balanced to look like a man. When an artist
pulls off a brilliant concept, I want contact information, but I saw
nothing in the yard. I didn't have a decent camera in the car, so it
looks like I'm calling the Chamber of Commerce. I'm typing this essay at the house computer of the St. Clair Inn,
which was built by civic minded citizens of St. Clair, Michigan in
1926 to serve the steamship trade from Detroit. I can imagine
passengers debarking from steamships on the handsome, weather silvered
docks along the river, one of the Great Lakes famous boardwalks.
Sadly, the lot is almost empty, despite room rates from 55 dollars to
85 dollars a night. The style of the Inn is baronial, English Tudor to
be exact, and I'm looking at armchairs with carved lions on the
armrests. I walked in looking for a Red Bull at the River Front bar,
but no bartender attended the well-appointed, well-timbered chamber.
All the windows view the wide St. Claire River, which makes the
Mississippi River look muddy and narrow by compare. A long patio along
blue water river sports wrought iron tables and chairs, each with a
yellow umbrella, all down, and four cocktail glasses served as the
only guests. I didn't see any ice in the glasses, so it's been a long
time since glasses were placed out there. Now it's onward to Port
Huron and then over to West Michigan. Homeward Bound!
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