I was talking to my sister yesterday and mentioned how stressful I found mountain driving and how, as a result, had decided against The Cabot Trail, and had just stuck to going straight up and straight back through the middle of Cape Breton, sticking to Hwy 105. And she said the nicest thing: “Elaine, that’s weird. Because in the entire time we were driving around Eastern Ontario in June, you always looked like driving the RV was a breeze and that you weren’t bothered at all.”
Two things come out of that statement: (1) I really am more comfortable behind the wheel of this thing than I sometimes realise; and (2) Abe Lincoln was right, you can fool all of the people some of the time.