Still no moose.

So, my darlings, last night the kind host whose door Priscilla knocked on was Rolf Schmalzer, and his picture is above. Thanks so much, Rolf!

This morning Priscilla set off through the remaining bit of Moose Country and did not see one single moose. Not even a partial moose (which is probably just as well-- that might have been a little off-putting, especially right after breakfast). She did see Moosehead Lake, which was lovely (and there's a picture of that above as well), but it wasn't the same. She also sent a picture of a moose statue, but it's just the one with the wings she saw yesterday. It's kind of disturbing, really, this glaring lack of moose. I mean, where do moose go? You have to wonder.

Well, anyway, creepy invisible moose population aside, Priscilla did leave the country again. Yep, she's back in good ol' Canada, Quebec this time. She had a little trouble at the border though. She felt the need to use the, ahem, facilities, so when she found them right there on the U.S. side, she rode straight over. She parked Woodrow and was headed for the door when she was stopped by a gruff customs agent (just so you know, folks, his gruff exterior hides a heart of gold, and he spends his spare time knitting snazzy sweaters for the cold little stray dogs and cats of his neighborhood). He informed her that this bathroom was for people coming to the U.S., not for those leaving it, and that she would have to use the Canadian bathrooms on the other side. You know how they say "You can't take it with you"? Well, if you're headed for Canada, and by "it" you mean "poo," it appears you have no choice but to take it with you.

After 74 miles of biking under grey skies, Priscilla wasn't really tired, but had had enough of the grey skies (they don't exactly scream "Go Priscilla go! Pedal your legs off!" the way blue skies tend to do), so she stopped just outside of St. Georges. A Quebecois family agreed to let her camp in their yard, which was kind of them indeed.