$85 for Toronto parking!?
I check the map. Just east of Toronto, Niagara Falls tumbles on the US-Canada border. I stop in Niagara for a watery lunch.
$15 for parking!?
I lose my way among the amusement park rides, dinosaur miniature golf, and casinos. At least I see what Niagara means to many families.
I finally find the river. From the Canadian viewpoint, the two falls are indeed impressive. An international tourist crowd snaps selfies and pushes strollers alongside the railed path. Far below, open-air boats motor ponchoed tourists to the midst of the mist.
I stroll to the edge of the waterfall. I planned to take a boat ride or walk behind the Falls. Those plans were nixed when I got lost in the amusement park and spent too much on parking. Probably for the best as both the boat ride and behind-the-falls-walk seem exquisite water tortures.
The US immigration officer is kinder and younger than the Canadian officer. Both officials ask about my time off work. Neither crossing require that I open bins and display dinosaur costumes.
Back in Ohio, Brother Ray donated a half-case of motor oil. He intended to change his car’s oil, but soon learned its messiness. I have now scattered all his donated oil across North America. The new engine cap, purchased in Cinncinati, does not slow the oil leak. The car still gets an impressive 35 miles to the gallon, perhaps because I drive the Toyota like a big-rig truck.