Working Saturday

Another early morning start and another McBreakfast. I seem to have fallen back into my hotel routine for mornings, which is pretty close to my home routine come to think of it. I was in the truck with the engine running ahead of the planned departure time anyways. We struck off for the first site with ambitions of getting three done and shaving time off the total trip. This day was just going to be Brack and I. We landed at the location mid morning and fell into our divide and conquer process. I ripped through corn and he handled beans. Both agreeing to take an appropriate amount of notes and impressions. He was done ahead of me so joined me at the end. The tests I had to cover were larger and more numerous to begin with and I’m the culprit of taking more notes that I should. From here we went to a Tim Horton’s for lunch for the speed of it more than anything else. That, and it became the only option. At the second site we ran into JJ Belz and chatted with him. He was busy and we were in the zone so we repeated the morning’s efforts. It was three by the time we got it covered. Both the sites so far had been very sandy soils and some drought stress was obvious, making for some interesting notes. Before leaving, I flew the drone and took some video for him. At one point, I had to drop it down quick to avoid a small plane. In reality it wasn’t close at all and I was much lower but I got myself worried. I got some excellent imagery nonetheless.

We struck off for the last site of the day, a bonus that was slated for Monday. There was only one small corn set so I got to walk a bunch of the beans myself. Nice to change gears like that. It was getting on in the day by the time we finished there.

It was definitely beer time by the time we had travelled to a new town and checked in to a new hotel. We didn’t bother booking a room in advance and instead walked up. This acceleration of the schedule meant that we were going to miss the annual dinner at Hotel Plaza de Valleyfield. It might have been the last chance ever since next year we’re hoping to book rooms in the Flotel across the street.

For dinner we went to the same place we tried last year but it was not operational during COVID. We had to settle for the old style diner in front of it. We opted for the patio because it was a lovely evening. The chair was not as sturdy as I prefer and it took time for me to trust that I wouldn’t destroy it. There wasn’t anything on the menu that was particularly exciting to me. I was somewhat fixated on the fried curd poutine. Brack was equally focused on the pulled pork poutine. Having had zero poutine in Quebec we figured we’d have some in a French part of Ontario. And it was definitely a French first community. He couldn’t shake the idea of fried curds and order his pulled pork poutine with a side of the curds with the plan to dump them on top. I pulled an audible instead of pork and ended up with the same meal.

The food was surprisingly fantastic considering the chair and the service we’d gotten to that point. We moved to a second beer from that place we’d enjoyed the previous fall and tucked in to the deceivingly large mountain of food. Great value to go along with the great taste, a frequently more rare combination. I started to speed up my shovelling partway in as I realize that I was getting full. I’d sprinkled a handful of the fried curds on but they didn’t do much, they were the downside of the order. I hustled to clean my plate before my stomach sounded the alarm, feeling a bit like I was in an eating competition like BeardMeetsFood. I got it all into me, Brack tapped out. Later, I wish I’d done the same. It was a struggle to tip back the last of my red ale before paying the tab and waddling back to the hotel. He had to pee and I was filled beyond capacity so it was a strange walk back.

Upon arriving I doffed my running shoes and made this grisly discovery, or disco-very, depending on your upbringing. Turns out the aeration that Nike built into their shoes along with the craftsmanship of my copper bottom socks can work in concert to permit sandy loam dirt to sift through to one’s feet. I debated whether to let nature take its course and go to bed or to wash my piggies before slipping between the sheets. My momma raised me right so despite some distress from my full condition I washed up before bed. I’ll have to transition back to boots for future sand sites. Sleep came after fooling on my phone for an hour or so and was plenty fitful. Eventually my body got things sorted out and I was able to sleep a bit deeper.