The lateness of my return last night, or rather, this morning, plus the effort of driving in the cold, leave me asleep until 10:30.  Up then, I head off to the market, where I have more buffalo sausage, and won-tons and spring rolls. 

Returning home, I check the Weather Channel, and find that the forecast has been updated. The previous call for rain has been rescinded.  I call my favorite brother, and ask if I can stay at his place tonight. Since I'm planning on going back via Rt. 9 in Maine (aka the Airlane), this cuts an hour off my travel time. 

With Ken's approval, I pack up the bike, and gas it up.  Getting air for the tires is annoying - the Ultramar station charges for air, the Irving compressor was out of order, and I guess it makes sense that the Shell station air pump was very busy. Lots of people have questions about the bike and the tour.  I'm sure some psychologist could find meaning in the choice of question from each individual - "How fast does it go?" (ans: over 160Kph), "How much gas have you used?" (ans: I haven't been keeping track), "How does it handle in the rain?" (ans: Very well, actually.  The Dunlop tires are, in my usage, excellent.),  "You don't have  much room" (ans: true) which usually becomes "Where did you put all that" if they  see all my stuff scattered about.

I run down the road to Saint John, then east to Quispamsis.  There is high cloud with clear breaks behind.  It's a lovely temperature for driving.  We have supper, watch a movie, and chat.  I sleep well, secure in the knowledge that all my stuff is already on the floor, and the kitties will not harm it.