We ate a pancake breakfast at the family restaurant next to the Motel 6 in Braintree, Massachusetts, then we were back on the road.
We followed Interstate 93 26 miles north. We crossed over Interstate 90, the first time we'd seen that freeway since the first day of the trip in Seattle, Washington. That may sound strange considering the distance we'd traveled, but I-90 is the longest Interstate highway in the United States at a length of 3,102 miles (4,992 km), running from coast to coast.
We passed the exits to Salem (infamous for the Witch Trials) and Marblehead, but we didn't stop. At the time, I hadn't yet discovered that my maternal 9th-great-grandparents John and Wilbra Gatchell settled in Marblehead in 1635 after immigrating from near Taunton, England.
Also, my 8th-great-granduncle Joseph Gatchell was convicted of heresy in Marblehead in 1684. Apparently, Joseph held the views that Jesus was "an imperfect savior and a fool" and that "there was no God, Devil, or Hell," beliefs which didn't go over well with the Puritans.
He was punished by being placed in the pillory and having his tongue pierced by a hot poker. If that wasn't enough, he had to pay the costs of his trial. His sister-in-law, my 8th-great-grandmother Elizabeth Gatchell (née Boude, daughter of my innkeeper/distiller ancestor in Boston), was the primary witness against him. That must have made for some awkward family gatherings after that.
His heresy trial was only eight years before the Salem Witch Trials, and Salem was only 4 miles (6 km) northwest of Marblehead, so I wonder what my heretic ancestor thought of the trials? I can imagine he was skeptical of the hysteria.
We exited onto Interstate 95 and continued on it for 66 miles (106 km) northeast until we crossed into Maine.
Once in Maine, we saw a lot of the Atlantic Ocean. While one might think one ocean looks much like any other, the quality of light and size of waves on the Atlantic were quite different than what we'd seen weeks earlier on the Pacific.
We continued 181 miles (291 km) northeast until we cut off to Maine State Route 9. We followed it east for 95 miles (153 km) through some very remote parts of Maine. I remember seeing a great many trees, and precious few towns or even other cars. One town was named Wesley and the next Crawford, which amused us because my mother's oldest brother is named Wesly Crawford.
There was a feeling of ancientness and even a touch of the uncanny in those woods. It's not a surprise that Stephen King has used them as a setting for so many stories.
At Calais we crossed the St. Croix River and left the United States behind for the first time, arriving on the other side of the bridge in Canada, St. Stephen, New Brunswick to be precise. If I recall correctly, we had to show our driver's licenses and birth certificates to cross the border, and now our national driving trip had become an international one.
From St. Stephen we followed New Brunswick Highway 1 70 miles (113 km) east to Saint John, the largest city in the province of New Brunswick with roughly 100,000 people in the metropolitan area.
We had reservations at Keddy's Fort Howe Hotel (now a Howard Johnson's), which was a newer hotel and the nicest one we had stayed at so far. We ate dinner in the hotel restaurant, which served some excellent albeit pricey food. I believe I ordered a steak.
After dinner, it was straight to bed. Eight and a half hours driving had taken its toll.
Total Travel Distance: 412 miles (663 km)
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