Montreal: January 12th, 2010

I wake up before my alarm. Its not even 6am. Thankfully the Gravol and Heineken put me to sleep for a few hours. My nerves continue to get the best of me as I stroll into work at 7:30, coffee in hand. I'm sure people are sick of hearing about me going to Peru but by 4 o'clock everyone is wishing me the best and saying goodbye. As expected, I hit rush hour traffic. It'll keep me in line so I don't mind. The last thing i want is to be screwed out of this awesome trip.

I cross the border around 6. Its pretty routine. Where are you from? Where are you going? Have you ever been arrested? As soon as I get the go ahead my anxiety fades and I drive off into the American darkness. Within 30 seconds I see a shooting star. A glimpse of things to come? Yes.

The long drive ahead is nothing unfamiliar. I've done it before but rarely has it been alone. I try to keep my thoughts focused on where I'll be this time tomorrow: Miami. Halfway to Peru. I decide to take a break in Plattsburgh mainly out of nostalgia. As a kid, I would spend weeks at a time at my grandparent's place in upstate New York. I pull into a Big K-Mart parking lot and stretch my legs and take a bathroom break. Its only for five minutes so as not to lose time.

I hit the road again and I'm blanketed in darkness. My GPS rambles directions that I ignore because I'll be on the I-87 for another few hours. My iPod is the only friend I have for now.

Getting closer to my destination, I have to start paying tolls. Being a Montreal native I barely understand how things work. I take the card and drive off trying to figure out where I'll be exiting and how much I'll have to pay. Two lanes become three, and three change back to two. The oncoming headlights become the faces of my fellow travellers and they seem to be staring at me. I squint trough their hi-beam glares and press forward. When my GPS tells me to take the next exit I double check the toll card and try to figure out how much cash I'll need. I slow down to about 30 km/h to double check, thankfully no one was behind me. As a take the off ramp I rely heavily on my multitasking. I turn a corner and come to a halt. A deer slowly walks across the road and doesn't even acknowledge the car. It was really eerie, normally they would be super alert and stare right at you. This deer is different; it is young but not a baby. Its also injured. As it makes it's way to the other side into the forest I honk my horn a couple times hoping that it gets spooked and runs off. As I come to the toll, I do my part and let the man in the booth know in case something happens. He says he already called it in.

Now I'm about 40 minutes away from the Taconic Parkway, which at this hour is likely a desolate stretch of road. My last leg. To get there I drive along a rural route where it is impossible to keep track of the random symbols of American patriotism. They dot the sides of the road in the form of massive American flags or decorated mailboxes and even an old Chevrolet painted with the star spangled banner. Its about 8:30pm and my Red Bull has worn off. Thankfully it isn't too cold to open up the sun roof. As I do so I realize how clear it is and glance at the sky from time to time.

My last leg of the drive starts at what appears to be someone's driveway. The on ramp to the Taconic is short and secluded but I remember it from my last drive up. This is where the fun begins. The speed limit calls for 55 mph. I oblige it as cops literally hide in the trees waiting for someone to slip up. I've already passed a half dozen state troopers who have pulled people over and a few more staked out waiting. After a few minutes I decide to speed up to 60 mph or 100 km/h. Its perfectly safe and not above the flow of the one other car on the road. The winding road is playing tricks on me. The car ahead disappears at least three times.

The trees along the side of the road seem to engulf and surround me as I veer from one lane to the other anticipating the turns. My music is loud and the sun roof is open and I have a smile on my face yet again. My iPod jumps to the next artist in line which is Fever Ray. She is one half of the Swedish electro band The Knife and I have yet to listen to her album. Each track is more bizarre than the last but her ambiance-like music keeps me mellow and focused. Every once and a while eclectic noises find their way into the song and I think that they're from outside. It startles me a bit but then I realize that it was fitting for my drive.

After 20 or 30 miles I come to a another slow down... more deer. This time its a mother and her fawn. Neither of them are injured so they both perk up. Deer in headlights. There's something about catching a wild animal off guard, especially a deer. They instantly become vulnerable and clumsy yet strangely stay majestic. After analyzing what they've encountered they hurry off into the woods. My heart rate slows back down.

My GPS chirps up again and orders me to take the next exit. This voice actress is really pushy. Next time I'll shell out the cash and get a GPS with a celebrity's voice or something. Nothing like William Shatner telling you to take... the next left... and hit it into... warp speed for 7.6 km.

I drop the car off with minutes to spare. And hurry over to the train station. I miss my ride to Grand Central by six minutes. I guess I shouldn't have stopped off in Plattsburgh. By the time I make it to Manhattan its 12:40, Wednesday morning. I am tired and miserable, and the cab driver knows it. He chats away on his cellphone the entire ride. I'm okay with this since I don't want to do much talking. Once I'm at Kirk's apartment, (not that Kirk...) I have to jimmy the lock. The only problem is I only took cards that are important; driver's license, credit cards and such. I don't want to break them or mess them up and not be able to use them while I'm in Peru. I end up popping the lock with my medicare card and I drop my bags to the floor. I fall onto the couch. I'm not going to sleep. I run down the street to a familiar restaurant and order a slice of pizza and a cheeseburger. With a full stomach I can now focus on sleep. In less than 20 minutes I'm passed out. In less than 20 hours, I'll be in Lima.