Kerouac 1

It was dark this morning--what else would it be--when I flew out of Regina. Yesterday, picking up maps of Montreal and New England from the CAA, I figured out what I'd leave at the Kerouac gravesite: a worn-out map of Saskatchewan on which I've written: Dear Jack, For the "immense winds that blew clear down from Saskatchewan" [a line in On the Road]. You'll find another home inside. Love, Gerry

Here in Calgary--a three-hour stopover--I'm studying the maps so later I can escape Dorval in my rented Pontiac as slickly as possible. Will cross the Quebec/Vermont line at Philipsburg instead of the busier Rock Island crossing further east. According to the "Driving Distances" legend on the map, I could make it to Lowell in about 4 hours from Montreal. But that would mean a 9:00 pm arrival. My brother-in-law, from Connecticut, tells me there are plenty of motels along route 93, so I'll likely stop around 7 or 8, catch the Dodgers-Phillies game 5.

Meanwhile, by the end of Part Three of On the Road, Dean and Sal have arrived in New York.