Day 17 - Tatamagoughe

Date: May 17, 2002
Location: Mike's Place
Distance Travelled: *will update later

"Tatamagoughe"

I'm having difficulty with distances, so I'll wait until I reach Oxford to tally up again. Anyway, there are some nice chaps there at the Cellar Pub. It doesn't get too busy I would imagine. But these two fella's came in and the one, Mike, took a real interest in my guitar. I let him play some and we got to talking. Well we both like the old rock, so we decided, "hey, let's start a jam session over at the bowling ally!" So I took a look outside and thought to myself "there's barely enough room between these mountains for the motel and gas station. Where the hell is this bowling alley?"

Well it turns out these guys drove me over to the other coast to a logging town called Tatamagoughe (that's Ta-ta-ma-goosh). Skittles is the towns bowling ally, slots, pizza parlour and bar all rolled into one.  The owner eagerly helped set up the mic's and gave me a couple of rounds on the house. Now Mike, he must not have a head for booze, because he passed out on stage for a good hour. There was a kid named Ryan who came up and jammed with me while Mike was out. Around midnight, Mike got up and I drove him home.

We spent most of this morning in his beautiful house playing his guitars, (I broke a string last night and lost the peg; I'm carving a replacement now) and watching the tragically hip tour video. Mike put on a pink Floyd song called "several species of small furry animals gathered together and groov'n with a pict". We didn't know what a pict was so we looked it up in the dictionary but couldn't find it. The song almost made me go insane, for sure, the stangest most interesting peice of music ever. If it can be called that.

We made a quick trip to Skittles for pizza and to look for the peg but couldn't find it. Mike found his Capo that he didn't realize was missing. We sat and talked to some locals. Mike introduced me to his cousin. I can't remember her name, but she was cute. She and her friend had just finished work. They do the replanting of trees after the loggers go through and clear cut a big patch.

Anyway, after a few slices of pizza, Mike took me back to the Cellar Pub so that I may continue the journey uninterrupted. Thanks Mike, you're a cool guy. Look me up if you're ever in my area. I'll show you some cool jamming!!

I walked a few hours and camped near the 304 turn-off on another ATV trail. A much better spot than most of my sites. I read some Tibetan Wisdom and slept soundly.

--
Friar Greg

Day 16 - Back in the Saddle Baby

Date: May 16, 2002
Location: Cellar Pub, Wentworth Valley, Nova Scotia
Distance Travelled: 12 km (175 km)

"Back in the Saddle Baby"

I tried to get an early start around 9 am, I was afraid that it was going to rain, but it never did. There was tonnes of wind and it seemed like the road just went up and down all day.  I climbed and climbed so much, that I've really lost where I am. With so few landmarks I'm finding it difficult to judge distance.

I've passed Folly Lake and taken some pictures. Remember that Tim's without any seats? well it turns out, it is owned by some guy that also owns the Esso next door a dry cleaners and a delivery service. After snapping those pics of the lake, I helped out a guy who delivered for that owner. He blew a tire (and I mean it was in 3 pieces off the rim) and didn't have a spare. I helped him un-seize his jack but that was about all I could do until a tire came, so I moved on.

There were a number of beautiful places to camp along the road, but it was early in the day and the best one was taken by a young couple. Let's just say, I didn't want to interrupt. I love this Provence.

Anyway, I stopped in here at the Cellar pub, made some calls and had a drink.

--
Friar Greg

Day 15 - Folly

Date: May 15, 2002
Location: Clearing under Ponderosa Sign, Hwy 4, Folly Mountain, Nova Scotia
Distance Travelled: 12 km (163 km)

"Folly"

10% of my trip over now and almost halfway through the month. A sign said that Amherst is probably 96 km away. that is 1 week if I don't make too many stops. Last night, Charlie's father gave me a ride into Truro to do some laundry. Charlie and her friend gave me a ride back to my camp site when I was done. Those two girls were quite a pair. Charlie was able to sum her friend Cheryl up into an easy to remember phrase: "the town tricycle." Later again there was mention of sucking chrome off tricycles. But I don't remember who said it. :)

We had a short discussion about budgeting and impulse buying. I was testing my ability with the Socratic method. Charlie bought me a chocolate milk and they dropped me off near my camp in the dark. I was able to put my plastic on the inside this time and had a warm, dry sleep. even though it drizzled all night.

The Sun came out today around 11am so I finally kicked my butt out of bed, packed up and mode my way to the Double C truck stop for water, coffee and to update my journal. Just after I left there, Charlie showed up and returned a book I had left in her dad's van. She had just finished an interview with some University Professors in Ottawa over the internet. She had been nervous before, but she said she had done well enough. Good Job Charlie!

Well, at the top of the mountains, daylight takes forever to go away. I read the coolest thing in my book tonight. It was called "Autobiography in 5 chapters". I'll write about it later... it's freezing!

--
Friar Greg

Day 14 - No Changes

"...and the man looked upon Greg and said: This is NOT good. Should this penniless pilgrim ever find himself, it will be as a tidal wave of individualism and spiritual peace as the others will soon want their own understanding. I can't have that as a threat to my power. So the man pulled his strings and paid his bribes. Then on the 14th day of Greg's quest, he awoke to a freezing rain from the overcast, satellite-controlled skies, and he smiled.


FOOL!!! he cried, dost thou not realise that I have hit bottom? From here I have only to climb, and climb I shall to the pinnacles of the Cobequid mountains as a symbol of my testament against your power hungry and oppressive reign!!!! I will let slide what truly doesn't matter and that, THAT, shall be my power over you!!!


Then Greg went about protecting his gear from the rains and promptly went back to sleep."

Yah, anyway, I woke up later and was very unhappy with what I found. I owe my sister Anna a huge apology, not that she needs an apology, but that I deserve a big kick in the soggy butt for not listening to her advice. I have once again laid my plastic fist and under the tent, waking upon a leaky, cold water bed. Now I see how and shy I should put the plastic inside the tent from now on. Experience is truly the best if harshest of teachers.

Around 2 pm, I couldn't take it any more. I left the tent in the bushes with my pack and guitar, and headed over to the Masstown Market, where I ran into Charlie again. I bought an endless cup of coffee and a small bowl of a soup made with fiddle heads. Charlie showed me what they look like and told me were to find them in the wild. It's actually a young fern that grows near water. Tasty.

I also spent some time on the free internet, chatting with Lesley and Anna, my friend from College Jules and another friend Greg who is on his way to Korea to teach English as a second language.  Then some people added me to their MSN contact list. Christa was one, and I thought that was cool. But the one that struck me was my ex-girlfriend, the one. the one that I couldn't bear to look at for 2 years. We parted on pretty bad terms, mostly mine. I don't know what exactly has happened to me or even exactly when, but during the last two weeks, I've come through a bit of an internal struggle.

... This is the part where I go on and on about feelings and history and stuff. But I'm not going to. Rest assured, that I got over myself and a major goal was achieved...

It's taken me two years, but I know now what to look for and to never make that mistake again, though I know I may never find anybody like her again either.


--
Friar Greg

Day 13 - Lucky Thirteen

Date: May 13, 2002
Location: Peatbog, Hwy's 4 & 114 Nova Scotia
Distance Travelled: 21 km (151 km)

"Lucky 13"

Here's the joke, My brother-in-law Jeff spent some time in Halifax and he thought it was hilarious that I kept getting called Jeff because people always forgot his name and thought he was Greg... I FOUND HIM!!! HAHAHA

Betts Dornan; I wasn't more than 2 klicks from the bridge when a nice lady stopped me and invited me inside for a cold drink & sandwich. We talked and I found that she and her husband once lived on the base in Trenton, right next door to my home town in Ontario. During the meal she helped me out of my "jam" with dwindling groceries and she gave me a crystal that her husband brought back from south america. She said that as long as it Have that, I'll always remember that I will have someone watching over me and praying for my safe journey. I can't think of a sweeter act of kindness any stranger can do for another. Thank you Betts.

Later on, I picked up 2 travellers who wanted to come along and wouldn't take "no" for an answer. They're twins, and they do nothing but complain. They bitch & chew and will never get along with anyone. They seriously slowed me down. Their names are Left & Right "Baby Toe" Blisters. I had to stop twice because of the pain. I guess my mistake was tying my shoes too tight.

So I've just now stepped out of the Masstown market and camped in a dead peat bog located inside the on/off ramp for highway 114. This market is quite a find. It's like... 15 km of nothing in all directions, then suddenly... a busy, bustling, fresh food/bakery/restaurant/greenhouse just pops up out of nowhere. Oh, and it has public internet access, when it works. There was one of the employee's out side um... waiting, that's right; she was waiting for a ride home. Her name was Charlotte (same as my youngest sister) and she told me that I looked just like a guy she knew named Jeff.

Now, for years, YEARS, people have been mistaking me for a Jeff and now I've found one with my face. It would only be poetic justice if he was always being called Greg, and I would like that just fine.

Well, to wind it down, my Grandmother would just flip if she had access to this little patch of peat... give her a shovel and a mulcher and the next thing you know, there's going to be a big whole where I'm sitting right now, and a new forest, freshly planted in her back yard.

--

Friar Greg