Thomas and I arrived at the McMillan household early. When it started to pour rain an hour after arrival we were grateful to our Aunt and Uncle for letting us crash at a time when we were in need of a rest after our first strenuous leg. Tension had arisen yesterday from Thomas expressing that he has been pushed too hard, while I feel the window of opportunity to cycle into the U.S.A. is rapidly closing with the snow looming.
We camped last night in the cold at the Ghost Resevoir Marina and Campground, where a slew of sailboats were stored on land for the coming winter. Almost all of the watercraft were trailerable, with the most popular brand, Macgregor, dominating the prairie bound sailboats. With the obvious deep freeze coming I am progressively more anxious to escape south.
Our aunt Ruth Mary put everything into perspective when she said that the greatest challenge will be remaining committed to travelling together when we are most sick of each other. In immediate memory the physical challenge of biking is nothing when compared to the stress of making a trip work with two individuals who are only good for each other in the balance achieved.
