Saturday morning, we broke camp and, after breakfast in town, hit the road. We drove Southwest, towards St. Stephens, hoping that the border checkpoint wouldn't be too busy, not being located on a major trucking route. Sadly, we were wrong – it took us three hours to cross, though the time in the booth was less than two minutes. As on the way up, all the officer wanted to know is whether we bought anything in Canada. He was surprised when we said (untruthfully) no, but took us at our word and waved us through. The traffic was light, but the drive still long, and we didn't hit J.'s parents' house in Schenectady until after ten.
The following morning, after a sugar-laden breakfast, I left J. behind to visit with her folks for a couple of days and drove the rest of the way home. To signal the end of the trip with perfect timing, the weather was overcast. Around Union, NJ, the skies opened up with a torrential rain, and the three lanes of the Garden State Parkway ground to a crawl. A far cry from the empty highways and sunny days of Eastern Canada. I finally rolled in around dinner time, the normally seven-hour drive stretched to almost ten, not quite ready to face the daily grind.
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