Wednesday 20 September 2023---My Jetta sat all day yesterday in the hotel parking lot as we hung around town. This morning I am alarmed to find the clutch pedal has sunk about halfway to the floor. The car starts okay, but is difficult to get into gear. We manage to get going, and it gets better as we go along, but it's definitely concerning.

We drive upriver, a route I used to take in the bus as far as Woodstock. I'm pleased to see there's still an osprey nest on the bridge at Longs Creek. Past Woodstock is new territory for me--the bus tour used to turn west, toward the Maine border, there. Twenty minutes along is Hartland, site of the world's longest covered bridge. The bridge was built in 1901, but not covered until 1922. After a few photos, we cross the Saint John River, noting that the bridge is one lane and has no traffic signals. There doesn't seem to be enough traffic for this to be an issue.

Another hour upriver is the town of Grand Falls. We stop at the tourist information building to gawk at the falls themselves. For some seventy miles west of here, the Saint John River forms the border between New Brunswick and Maine, a territory called Madawaska. The early European settlers were of Acadian origin, but came to call themselves Brayons. Sovereignty over this region was hazy in the decades following the American Revolution, and at one point the residents declared (not entirely seriously) the independent Republic of Madawaska. The border issue was settled by the Webster-Ashburton Treaty of 1842. I've long been curious about that little corner of the world, but an exploration will have to wait for another time. We leave the valley of the Saint John and head northeast.

Two hours later, we are crossing the Restigouche River on the bridge between Campbellton, New Brunswick and Pointe-à-la-Croix, Québec. I'm having a flashback--the last time I crossed this bridge was on a motorcycle trip in the '80s. It was late in the day, and I was looking for a place to stay. As I rolled into a motel on the Québec side, my clutch cable snapped, and I knew that was where I was going to spend the night, whether I liked it or not. I see no sign of that motel now, at least not where I think it was. It's not long before we are in Carleton. Marc and I stayed here in 2019; we'll be in territory familiar to me from here on.

Check into our room, take a stroll along the waterfront, and pop into Le Naufrageur for a pint. Then it's dinner at Restaurant du Cap à la Mer, followed by another visit to Le Naufrageur. Today was the second-longest driving day of the trip, after the first day. It'll be no more than two-and-a-half to three hours of driving on a travel day from here on, until the last day.