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pseydtonneI'm in a motel room in Quebec City. The room has crummy ventilation but it's cheap and there is XXX pr0n for free. I wouldn't have put that on channel 3 but it's something nice as I fall asleep.
Earlier today I decided to drive into downtown Sherbrooke, Quebec. This city is about the size of my hometown, although it definitely feels smaller. It reminds me of a much larger Pittsfield, without the obvious crack heads.
It turned out I showed up at exactly the right time. I hid under the Dufferin Street Bridge downtown and took photos from a steel-grate walkway just above the Magog River. I only had the digital camera attached to my cell phone, so the images are not that big nor very detailed. However they show the river bursting over its barriers and submerging the ramps from Frontenac Street to route 143, right where the smaller Magog meets the Saint Francis River.
They were evacuating several parts of the city around 3:30 in the afternoon. I wasn't even aware of it until I got stuck in traffic crossing one of the higher bridges and the road closings got mentioned on the radio. I guess that place is not usually jammed.
I didn't realize the significance of my timing and my photos until I was nearly an hour away in a place called Disraeli. I had been listening to random pop stations in French. Once I tuned in the CBC (the francophone version is called Radio-Canada) and caught the nationwide news at 5 pm, I realized I had been in the middle of the deadliest flood that day among many floods around Quebec and New England.
Had I known there would be four inches of rain in at most 24 hours, I might have skipped this trip. I nearly flooded out my car last night -- I was driving on I-91 in Vermont, one exit before it meets with the end of I-93 in Saint Johnsbury. The wind was on and off, as was the rain, from when I left work almost three hours earlier. I took 89 to 91 because I didn't want to go through the mountains during bad weather. Suddenly torrential rain washed out the interstate. I slowed down to 35 (and third gear) but still could barely see the road. I wound up getting a room at the first hotel I saw because I was quite scared.
My car was doing something I'd seen once before. It wouldn't go above 3000 RPMs in the lower gears, suggesting there was water somewhere. When I turned it over the next morning, that problem was gone.
I've enjoyed today a lot. I'll tell you more when I'm not tired. I'd appreciate any feedback about the photos The quality is not going to be great but I'd like to know if they convey the information effectively.
Earlier today I decided to drive into downtown Sherbrooke, Quebec. This city is about the size of my hometown, although it definitely feels smaller. It reminds me of a much larger Pittsfield, without the obvious crack heads.
It turned out I showed up at exactly the right time. I hid under the Dufferin Street Bridge downtown and took photos from a steel-grate walkway just above the Magog River. I only had the digital camera attached to my cell phone, so the images are not that big nor very detailed. However they show the river bursting over its barriers and submerging the ramps from Frontenac Street to route 143, right where the smaller Magog meets the Saint Francis River.
They were evacuating several parts of the city around 3:30 in the afternoon. I wasn't even aware of it until I got stuck in traffic crossing one of the higher bridges and the road closings got mentioned on the radio. I guess that place is not usually jammed.
I didn't realize the significance of my timing and my photos until I was nearly an hour away in a place called Disraeli. I had been listening to random pop stations in French. Once I tuned in the CBC (the francophone version is called Radio-Canada) and caught the nationwide news at 5 pm, I realized I had been in the middle of the deadliest flood that day among many floods around Quebec and New England.
Had I known there would be four inches of rain in at most 24 hours, I might have skipped this trip. I nearly flooded out my car last night -- I was driving on I-91 in Vermont, one exit before it meets with the end of I-93 in Saint Johnsbury. The wind was on and off, as was the rain, from when I left work almost three hours earlier. I took 89 to 91 because I didn't want to go through the mountains during bad weather. Suddenly torrential rain washed out the interstate. I slowed down to 35 (and third gear) but still could barely see the road. I wound up getting a room at the first hotel I saw because I was quite scared.
My car was doing something I'd seen once before. It wouldn't go above 3000 RPMs in the lower gears, suggesting there was water somewhere. When I turned it over the next morning, that problem was gone.
I've enjoyed today a lot. I'll tell you more when I'm not tired. I'd appreciate any feedback about the photos The quality is not going to be great but I'd like to know if they convey the information effectively.
