South of Winnipeg, we visited St.Norberg historical park where Métis homes, built without nails have been preserved. One of the highlights of the trip was touring Friesens printing plant in Altona where my book was born.

Excited, we crossed into Ontario, the land honey-combed by lakes. Kenora, on Lake of the Woods has a giant Muskie welcoming visitors from the west. Thunder Bay is one of our favourite places in Ontario. We have friends to stay with, markets where we’re welcomed and it’s on Lake Superior, the largest fresh-water lake in the world.

But it’s the people of Thunder Bay who make it, and who we’ve had such rich talks with. Rob, the Métis raised by his Ojibwa grandmother. “Anishinabe is a self-description used by the Odawa, Ojibwa, and Algonkin peoples. It can be defined as ‘good people that are on the right road or path given them by the Creator.” A lady with stressful problems bought a $2 Power rock on our way east, and when we came back told us how much it had helped in the two months since she’d seen us. We gave her a hug and said “This is why we travel this way.” An old fellow hobbled past with a lovely bouquet of glads and when I commented on how nice they were, he got a twinkle in his eyes and said, “ Don’t you wish you’d been my date last night?”

The Muskoka’s are the beautiful lake region called ‘cottage country,’ where many of the rich and famous come to play. Bracebridge, where we stayed with our new friends is in the Muskoka’s. One day we drove to the Family Water park, where a sign greeted us with “clothes optional beach.” What would us “old folks” do? We’d come that far, so I looked him in the eye, interviewed him for the next book, and bought ice cream.

From Ontario east, there are an abundance of magnificent buildings hundreds of years old. Along Brockville’s main street, marble edifices stand regal as grand old ladies. From there we followed the mighty St. Lawrence River with her blue waters, historical buildings, and islands all the way up Quebec. Through narrow old streets we followed the diva of rivers part way up the Gaspé Peninsula before turning towards New Brunswick.

We entered New Brunswick at Campbellton, the beginning of the French Acadian Coastal drive, 8,686 km. from the Pacific Ocean. As the sunset painted gold across the St. Lawrence at a campground in Caraquet we knew the risk we’d taken to get there was worth it.

While selling at a market in Miramachi during the Irish Festival, we were invited to sell at the Eel Ground Pow-Wow. Everything was free: the camping, booth, fireworks, and two feasts. A ceremonial fire was lit when the Pow-Wow started, and someone kept it burning the whole three days. If it went out, that would have been the end of the festivities.

In Cape Breton, NS we left our trailer with Martha, a feisty older lady who runs a 200 acre sheep farm with her family. For two weeks Boo was free of towing as we headed for NL

After a six hour ferry ride on July 28, we landed in Port Aux Basques, NL. “We did it!” Most of the gas had been covered by our sales. Our single-minded determination overcame nay-sayers and our own doubts, which brings us back to Bruce Willis’s comment.

Calling Newfoundland ‘The Rock’ is fitting. It is all rock carpeted in greenery, ponds and stunted trees. I was enthralled with the wild beauty, the variety of rocks, and the abundance of wild flowers. Boon-docking in Newfoundland is most anywhere you want. We camped on a sandy beach at Codroy, a rocky beach at Stephenville, a parking lot by Deer Lake, and a Wal-Mart in Corner Brook.

For two weeks, we drove 2,100 km on the west coast from the southern tip to the most northern tip at Cape Norman. There, for two days of rare sunshine, all by ourselves, we camped in Boo in a moonscape of rocks. In every crevice flowers fought for survival. Waves crashed on the beach as the wind whipped off the tops. On the horizon an ice berg floated. I stood in awe washing my face, “Imagine … taking pictures of an ice berg before breakfast.”

On a tight schedule heading home, we had from Aug.12 in Cape Breton to get back to Abbotsford RV Show by Sept.26. In between that we visited our cousin in Charlottetown, PEI. Taking the ferry from Pictou, NS to PEI is free; it costs you when you leave either on the ferry or Confederation Bridge.

Back in Ontario we visited Port Carling with a 111’x 45’mural made up of 9,028 little photos, each one a piece of their history. Up in North Bay we finally listened to Boo’s overheating problems and changed her radiator. She behaved herself most of the time after that.

After Labour Day, we only did a few more markets from Manitoba to BC as it was getting real cold. In Beausejour, MB, we sold while cowboys pitted their strength against the broncos. In Swift Current, SK we camped in the same place in the same mall we had before. An aunt I’d never met walked up to our table for an emotional reunion.

Leaving Calgary for the BC border, we were so anxious to be back on the coast. Even though Hope isn’t on the coast, I exclaimed, “We’re back on the coast. I cam smell the ocean.” “No, that’s cow manure.” Dave said.

Sept.26, we pulled into the Abbotsford Tradex lot to speak and sell at the four day RV show. Oct. 1 we drove into our yard, 19,962 kms, 130 days, 10 provinces, and a ton of stories later. Yes, ‘me and you and a van named Boo travelling and living off the land’ had made our dream come true.