Still packing. Fishing poles. Hiking boots. Binoculars. Bird and weather guides. Golf clubs (unbeknownst to the wife and carefully hidden in the Thule.) Maps. Lots of those. Topographic maps. Lake maps. Road maps. Maps of Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick. So many maps that I can’t help but question the wisdom of making this long sojourn in the first place. Why travel so far? This is a vacation, no? Why spend half of it in the car? And why spend half of it in a car that Al Gore would just as soon ban, especially when the price of gas is five bucks a gallon in Canada? (Note to reader: I seem to remember gas being sold by the liter in Canada). What does one hope to gain? A respite from the torpor of a New York summer? Possibly. Inspiration from the beauty the natural world has to offer? I suppose. Weight from beer, pie and seafood? Absolutely. So there’s your answer: we are a family that travels for beer, pie and seafood.