Ted brings the Weavers to the train station. Mama Weaver makes him look deeply into her eyes so that her piety can crawl into his soul and pitch a tent, and she tells him to stay and wait, because she'll be back. She would never lie to you. She is holy. The Weavers run off into the station. They run down a bunch of stairs and start into a tunnel. Meanwhile, the Linzes, in their own cab, are told that they're close to the right place. The Weavers run down a long hallway, following signs to the CDP Capital building. As they run, they spot the clue box along the hall, tucked back into a little corner behind a wall. When they pull the clue, it reveals this week's Detour, which is a choice between Slide It and Roll It. Slide It is curling, and it requires each of the team members to make a reasonably decent shot in curling, which is, as a couple of teams will note, roughly like shuffleboard on ice. In Roll It, you travel to an arboretum and "use traditional lumberjack tools" (such as buttered scones and women's clothing) to move four logs along a track. The Weavers choose the curling, and they set off for McGill Arena. Outside, they find their way back to Ted, and they ask him to take them to the rink. Ted insists that he knows where it is, and they go on about how wonderful Ted is. It's not that I don't like to see people appreciate the locals, but there is a level of toadying on the subject of Ted that quickly borders on the unseemly.

Meanwhile, the Linzes hold their cab and go into the underground tunnels. They, unfortunately, run right past the tucked-away clue. Boo! That's no way to vanquish the chosen team of God!

At 5:25 PM, the Bransens land in Montreal at last. Great advantage, that direct flight.

Ted promises the Weavers that he's going the right way, but when he pulls up to what he believes to be the rink, he also tells them, "Don't cheer yet." Heh. I admire a driver who knows his own limitations. When the Weavers get to what Ted thinks is the right building, Mama finds that the doors are chained. Maybe they knew she was coming. Even a Canadian skating rink has to have instincts for self-preservation that would kick in at some point.

Having missed the clue, now the Linzes are really confused, and they're running back above ground again. They wind up back where they started, more confused than ever, scratching their heads. Bafflement does not flatter the thick of neck.