While Constable Demeau couldn't cite any specific laws or regulations concerning wheeled furnishings, he put together some pretty solid arguments against our chosen means of travel. Much of the trouble had to do with the width of our contraption. At nearly seven feet across, it was three inches wider than a Lincoln Navigator. This alone may not have been such a problem had it not also been for our speed, which could only generously have been described as pokey. And then there was the question of whether or not it qualified as a bicycle at all. If it did, then we were in violation of New Brunswick's helmet law.

Yet, despite all our transgressions, Constable Demeau seemed at odds with himself over how to handle us. Though our couchbike may have posed an imminent threat to public safety, he had to admit that it was indeed "a nice rig". He said that it might be against his better judgment, but that he was going to let us go. "Do whatever you guys think is best." He said. We assured him that we'd keep an eye on traffic and pull off into the ditch when cars came by.

While the law had been merciful with us, the weather was not so kind. Minutes after the RCMP cruiser pulled away, the rain started coming down in buckets. We scrambled to cover the couch with our form fitting tarp. Although it protected the precious faux leather fabric, it did nothing for the two of us. In fact, because we sat on top of the tarp, the water just pooled in the depressions where our wet bodies sunk into the cushions creating a sort of mobile Mr. Turtle pool.