The Great Canadian Cycling
Adventure
Across
Canada by Bicycle in the Tour du Canada 2000
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Ontario Heartland
Around
Lake Superior: Thunder Bay ON to Tobermory ON
Day
32: Thunder Bay to Nipigon, ON
July
30, 2000
"Dreams
are made if people only try.
I believe in miracles.
I have to...
Because somewhere the hurting must stop."
"I just wish people
would realize that anything’s possible if you try"
Terry
Fox, July 28, 1952 - June 28, 1981
We
were in no hurry to leave this morning since it's a special day.
Today we mark the halfway point in our journey across Canada, and meet at
a rest stop on the highway for a group lunch and ice cream to celebrate.
That'll be at about 60 km into today's shorter distance of 117 km.
Karin, Jules, Karl, John and I leave around 8 a.m. and roll over to
Robin's Donuts for coffee and cinnamon buns for breakfast.
On the road at about 8:30 a.m., we quickly find out way out of Thunder
Bay and onto the highway.
Our
next stop is the Terry Fox Memorial, located about 12 km to the east of Thunder
Bay. Running 26 miles (42 km) a
day, this outstanding young athlete had conquered five provinces by the time he
reached Ontario in June. At 5,373
km, near this site outside Thunder Bay, recurring cancer forced him to give up
his run, and he died soon after. Terry
Fox was running across Canada on one leg and one artificial leg in his Marathon
of Hope. (Picture left, Copyright The
Terry Fox Foundation) His inspiration came from the pain and
suffering he saw in cancer wards, and his belief that with sufficient resources
and attention, the hurting could be made to stop. Running a marathon a day, starting in St. John's, by the time
he got to Ontario people everywhere had gathered behind him and his incredible
determination to overcome impossible odds.
Since his death, his spirit lives on in annual runs every September.
Thanks to his inspiration, millions and millions of dollars have been
raised for cancer research, and some of the hurting has been stopped already.
Terry Fox is one of my personal heroes, the other being with Lance
Armstrong. Each has different
stories, yet each set out to overcome impossible odds and if successful, achieve
a miracle. Terry Fox may not have
completed his run across Canada, 
yet he did achieve his goal, and his
inspiration is very much alive today, 20 years later.
(To find out more, visit the website of the Terry
Fox Foundation.)
Terry's
memorial is beautifully situated, high on a hill overlooking Lake Superior and
the Canadian shield. This is a
mighty place, his was a mighty task. It's
early in the morning and there are only a couple of other people here at this
time of day, which really helps to create a serene and powerful
presence around the memorial, the statue of Terry, and the words
inscribed here. This is a very
moving place.
Dave
Charles caught up with us while at the Memorial; he's feeling a little draggy
today, and I don't much feel like racing, so ride on with Dave at a very relaxed
pace. This gives me lots of time to
think about life, what's important and what's not.
At peace with the world and my lot in it, I'm humming and singing as I
spin smoothly along the shoulder of the highway a few bike lengths behind Dave.
What a great day this is to be alive and chasing a dream!
This
area of Northern Ontario is noted for amethyst mines. Amethyst, the official gemstone of Ontario, and the
birthstone for February, is a variety of quartz, formed from solutions
crystallized in faults in the pre-Cambrian shield.
Hues of purple, lilac and blue are due to the inclusion of iron and later
bombardment by radiation. Various
tribal cultures believed in wearing amethyst to prevent or cure drunkeness and
bring peaceful dreams. Today it's
symbolic of health, happiness and relaxation.
There are lots of mines in this area, and several gift shops peddling
amethyst jewelery and other things. We
stop at one that looks interesting, and sure enough their wares entice several
of us to purchase gifts to take home.
At
60 km into the ride, we arrive at the rest area to find most of the others
already there. We are halfway!
Time to celebrate; fresh sandwiches are made, the ice cream tubs and
cones come out of the truck, and everyone takes pictures of everyone to mark the
moment.
Feeling
renewed, re-energized and ready to roll, I hit the road again with my usual
riding buddy, Jules. His bike's
making rude noises as we ride along, yet we set and maintain a good pace.
With only one very short rest stop, we're soon at our destination near
Nipigon.
Our
journey is half completed, or looked at another way, we've only got about 3,600
km to go. To think we've already
cycled 3,600 km is a bit mind-boggling. If
pressed, I'm not sure I could truthfully admit that I believed I could do this.
I certainly was game for the challenge, yet really didn't know whether
I'd encounter mental or physical limitations before this point (or for the rest
of the trip for that matter!). Yet,
I can now say I've bicycled 3,600 km across Canada, eastward from Vancouver.
That alone is confidence-inspiring; that alone gives me the ability to
look ahead to tomorrow, secure in the knowledge that I have overcome the
challenges that have arisen to date; and confident that I can muster the
resources to persevere and finish this little odyssey.
What a life! Terry,
thank you.
Day's
high and low: The
emotional experience of visiting the Terry Fox Memorial outside Thunder Bay.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
Hot and
cloudless. About 27C at noon.
Wind light and variable until settling into SW at about 20 km/hr in
mid-afternoon.
Official
distance: 117 km
Distance actually cycled:
110.3 km Avg
speed on road: 26.9 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
3,600 km
PBJs
consumed to date: 49
Bananas consumed to date: 98
...alan
Stillwaters Campground,
Nipigon, ON
Day
33: Nipigon to Terrace Bay, ON
July
31, 2000
"The
moment may be temporary, but the memory is forever." Bud Meyer
The
morning started with a great feast -- the mosquitoes eating me.
They were thick as smoke in the campground; the only escape came by
riding out of camp and away from them at 7 a.m.
Today's route map is pretty simple: turn east on highway and go for 113
km until reaching Terrace Bay. Okay.
One
nice aspect of this part of Ontario is that the roads are good to excellent; the
pavement is generally quite smooth and most roads have a paved shoulder strip.
This makes cycling easy, and keeps us out of the traffic.
We spin along pretty quickly, kilometer after kilometer, the distance
rolling by as we head eastward, ever eastward.
The
highway cuts through the pre-Cambrian rock in several places. Sometimes the
granite cut towers above us on both sides of the highway.
The range of colours is amazing; pink through red to copper; white, grey
and black; sometimes a sandy colour. Everywhere
there are massive rock outcroppings. The
highway doesn't always get where it needs to go via cuts; sometimes it needs to
climb over. There are about half a
dozen places along our route today where large granite ridges run east &
west, ending in high bluffs over the Lake.
This necessitates long climbs up, and swooping runs down.
The largest two hills are about 125m and 100m climbs respectively, at a
4% to 5% grade. After each uphill,
we get to swoop down the other side. Even
with a slight headwind, gravity takes me for a ride down one hill at 72 km/hr.
Stopping
at a roadside diner for a $4.50 breakfast special, the owner/chef and another
local describe for us the hills and construction. These descriptions always require some interpretation since
they're almost always from a car driver's perspective.
"15 minutes down the road" is about 15 km, or 30 to 40 minutes
for us. We're warned about a major
piece of road construction that's about 5 km long, up one big long hill and down
the other side.
By
the time we get there (picture, right), we find that the uphill construction
area has just been paved, and only the downhill is gravel. We're in luck though,
the gravel is hard-compacted already, and hasn't been watered recently.
No mud this time! The construction crew is doing an excellent job of regulating
traffic and we get through quickly. The
descent on the gravel highway is a bit hairy though. After letting gravity suck me up to 50 km/hr, I decide this
is fast enough; any faster and the chance of loosing control's too great.
I ride my brakes the rest of the way down. The very short term
objective is to avoid using my face as a brake pad.
The
uphills today are almost fun. A
couple of them are hard work, especially one that rises about 125m in about 5 km
-- that's a pretty steep grade. Yet
I'm definitely stronger than I was on similar hills in the mountains.
The difference is that here the hills are one after another; in the
mountains we'd go up a grade and then stay at that level for a while before
climbing again. The elevation
changes in the mountains ocurred over days -- we'd spend days generally
climbing, and a couple of days generally descending.
Here we go up and down about the same elevation, over and over.
We
arrive in Terrace Bay early -- about 12:30 p.m. and hit a local bakery for a
great lunch: shepherds pie, fresh buns, cookies and buttertarts.
I also pick up some more stamps and mail a batch of postcards.
I started the trip with 90 stamps and they're all gone.
I'm sending out postcards to five different people who are following my
adventure on a pre-plotted map of my route across Canada. This includes nieces
and nephews, and sending them postcards is fun. I expect I'll send out
about 150 postcards by the time I reach St. John's.
Arriving
at the campground, we quickly set up our tents, get our stuff in order, take our
showers, and settle into a couple of chores. Jule's rear wheel is making noises it shouldn't.
I figure it's the freewheel body/bearings that need cleaning and
regreasing. Taking the rear hub
apart, I find that the bearings are gritty but okay.
We see that we need a large hex key - bigger than we've got in camp - to
take off the freewheel body. I
clean, grease and reassemble the hub -- the freewheel body will have to wait
until after a trip to Crap'n'Tire to pick up a 10 mm hex key.
Jules,
Karin, Craig and I are on galley duty again tonight. Jules has picked a couple of recipes from his new book:
bulgar and rice pilaf, a salad, and french white bean stew. After dinner is
ready, we've eaten and everything's cleaned up it's only 7 p.m.
Some go into town for ice cream, and some of us take a short hike to see
the Aguasabon Falls. It's a small waterfall, yet a beautiful seting.
The falls drop into a narrow gorge that runs off towards Lake Superior.
The gorge walls are reddish granite, with big cracks and sheets from
earth movement long ago. Taking pictures is difficult because we can't find a
way to get perspective into the pictures. (see picture at left, taken from
lookout peering down into the gorge)
Today
was a great day! Not too long a
distance, lots of varied terrain, beautiful scenic vistas of Lake Superior from
high vantage points, and good weather. Tomorrow
promises to be much the same if the scattered thunderstorms stay away from our
path.
Day's
high: Great,
big, challenging hills; one after another.
Day's
low: Only thing
that comes close to a low is a long stretch of construction on highway 17.
Daily
Stats:
Weather: About 15C in
morning, 24C in afternoon; winds light and variable.
Official
distance: 113 km
Distance actually cycled:
113.6 km Avg
speed on road: 25.0 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
3,711 km Total riding time to date: 142
hr 42 min
PBJs
consumed to date: 49
Bananas consumed to date: 102
...alan
Aguasabon Falls Trailer Park,
Terrace Bay, ON
Day
34: Terrace Bay to Hemlo, ON
August
1, 2000
"I
love the pull of gravity in the morning."
Alan Medcalf on downhill plunge
"Isn't physics wonderful." Karl Augenstein on same downhill
When
my alarm goes off at 5:20 this morning, the sun is still an hour away. Our crew
is on breakfast duty, causing us to be up and about earlier than we'd like.
Before long, despite the best attempts of the indigenous mosquito
population to exact their toll, we've served up porridge and one-eyed Egyptians
for everyone. By the time
everything's cleaned up and the truck packed, it's 7:45 a.m. as we roll out of
the campground.
Jules,
Karl, Karin, John and I start out together,
but it's soon clear that Karin and I want a moderate pace today, while
John, Jules and Karl want to push reasonably hard. I want to watch my burn rate and be able to ride well today
through all the mountainous terrain, and ride well tomorrow as well.
Karin and I can keep about the same pace on the flats and hills, so we're
well matched as riding buddies. We watch as "the boys playing silly
bugger" quickly disappear over the next hill. We're betting we'll
hear, "I'll never do that again!" from you-know-who!
Other
than lots of hills, the morning is uneventful with the exception of Karin
getting a flat on her rear wheel. We've
got it repaired and we're back riding again in about 15 minutes.
Although rain and t-storms are forecast for today, the only rain we get
lasts about 10 minutes, and only while Karin and I are sitting on the shoulder
of the road repairing her tire.
While
it remains heavily overcast most of the day, the wind and rain stay away (other
than the 10 minutes). It is,
however, very humid -- so humid in fact that several times I think it's
spitting, yet it's just droplets
condensing out of the air around us. The
humid air makes the rugged hills around us quite pretty.
The distant hills are blued and hazed out by the humidity, and the
textures of the forest and the exposed granite bluffs are softened with
distance. Occasionally we see Lake
Superior from higher elevations. (picture, right) The humidity also
dampens all the sound around us, even our bikes, so that we roll along in near
silence except for the faint whir of our tires on the road.
The
area we're traveling from Terrace Bay through Marathon to Hemlo is heavily
populated with moose, and the road is signed with moose warnings at regular
intervals. Yet despite the light
traffic and dampness, we see no sign of wildlife today.
The
terrain today is as remote and rugged as the last couple of days.
The northern Ontario wilderness crowds the highway on both sides, and in
many places the highway runs through gorge-like cuts blasted in the granite
rocks. Our route is winding as the
highway seeks a path with least vertical variance, yet the Shield isn't so accommodating,
and the highway climbs and drops in large hills.
At the 19.5 km mark, we climb 110m in 2.2 km, a 5% grade that rivals most
climbs in mountains. Karin and I climb the hills at a slow and steady pace, and
roar down the other side to appease the god of gravity.
On one downhill before our lunch stop, I clock 68 km/hr coasting.
On another longer downhill after lunch, I clock 76 km/hr and I'm still
accelerating when the highway flattens out before starting to climb again.
In the mountains out west, I only went faster than that on two occasions,
testament to the size of the northern Ontario hills compared to the west.
With no crosswinds, my Barbarella is extremely stable at high speed, and
I've yet to find my terminal velocity -- the speed at which wind resistance will
nullify the attempts of gravity to accelerate my descent any further.
After
about 80 km we reach the town of Marathon and stop at a roadside diner for
lunch. Here Karin and I meet up
with John, Jules and Karl again, and find that Sue and Ron are here too.
A number of other riders join us while we're inside.
Unlike the great service, good food and reasonable prices we've found in
many small towns, this one is disappointing.
The service borders on sullen, the food is nothing special, and the
prices are about 20% higher than they ought to be.
Hello Ontario! Oh well! We're
here now, and we won't be back.
Marathon
is about 5 km off the highway, and only a few of the group venture into town to
explore, while most of us continue down the highway. The town of Marathon was first settled in the fur trading era
of the 17th century, with the Northwest Company and then Hudson's Bay driving
the trade. In 1885 the former town
of Peninsula became the main supply base for the Canadian Pacific during one of
the most difficult and costly construction phases. About 12,000 men and 5,000 horses inhabited the
"wickedest town in Canada." In
1944 Marathon Paper Mills established a mill on the peninsula, and built a town
on the site which they named after themselves. The pulp mill was the main
industry in the area until 1985 when gold was discovered at the Hemlo mine
location. There are three gold
mines here -- the largest gold producing area in Canada today, and that's where
we're headed for our camp tonight.
On
down the highway from Marathon, we've got about 38 km to go to our destination
today -- the Golden Giant Mine site at Hemlo.
The 38 km roll by quickly, with a few very large hills to climb over and
then a fast level stretch with a touch of a tailwind to help us.
This 12 km stretch flies by as I pull Karin along at about 33 km/hr. Later
I'll find out that Karl and John pulled each other at 45 km/hr along here, with
Jules hanging on for the ride.
At
118 km we see the sign for the Yellow Brick Road leading to the Golden Giant
Mine site, our campground for the night. This
is probably our worst campsite of the trip to date.
Our "campground" consists of a large flat patch of gravel with
some mown weeds attempting to hide the sharp stones upon which our tents will be
pitched. The scenery is not. 
The
landscape is dominated by the boxy and angular shapes of the mine heads and
buildings, industrial equipment and piles of tailings. A couple of cyanide-laced
tailing ponds decorate the land. The sun has come out and there is zero
shade here -- several of us sit under the truck seeking escape from the sun
(picture, right). Several of us dub this site,
"moonscape". Even with a most optimistic attitude, the
facilities are only marginal. No running water, although the mine personnel
supply us with bottled water. We've
got a power hookup, but no washrooms, rather two Johnny's.
The showers are a 500m bike ride plus 100m walk away in the mine facility
itself. The showers themselves are okay. Overall,
I'd have to rate this site as unacceptable.
It escapes me why we're here instead of at one of the many campgrounds or
Provincial Parks in the area.
The
first gold bar was poured at this site in 1985, and it's strange to see Brink's
trucks on the highway instead of regular trucks. One statistic I find startling is that this is considered to
be a rich mine site. It produces 3,000 tonnes of ore per day, and each tonne
only yields 10 grams of gold. The cost of production is about $175 per oz.
The mine employs about 330 people.
A
special treat tonight is cinnamon buns for dessert. These were made by Craig M's daughters.
"New" Craig is now "gone" Craig -- he had been with
us from Fort Qu'appelle, and has now left to rejoin his family and return soon to
Niagara Falls and back to work (shudder!).
Tomorrow
we press on to Wawa, a 145 km ride to another rest day.
I'm hoping that the longer distance tomorrow means less hills, but I'll
have to wait to find out.
Day's
high: Scenic
vistas from heights, followed by fast downhill runs.
Day's
low: Lack of
facilities at Golden Giant Mine "campsite"
Daily
Stats:
Weather: 19C in morning,
overcast, threatening t-storms, 95% humidity, 24C in afternoon.
Official
distance: 118 km
Distance actually cycled:
119 km Avg
speed on road: 26.6 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
3,831 km Total riding time to date: 147
hr 12 min
PBJs
consumed to date: 50
Bananas consumed to date: 106
...alan
Golden Giant Mine
Hemlo, ON
Day
35: Hemlo to Wawa, ON
August
2, 2000
"I
like to ride in the RAIN,
I
like to ride wet AND COLD,
The MOSQUITO is a proud and noble beast,
This is MY SUMMER!
I AM CANADIAN!"
.
. . Alan at end of 145 km ride in rain, 25 km/hr north wind, and 9C temperature.
Last
night ended on a nice note with Kelly making popcorn for everyone.
We gathered around the big popcorn bowl and swapped stories while
munching away. Our gathering was
cut short by raindrops. Our radio was tuned to the local station which made no secret
of the fact that thunderstorms, cold and strong north winds were expected
overnight and all through the next day. Lucky
us! Making sure my tent was
well pegged down (I don't usually bother to peg it down), I turned in early and
read for a while until I couldn't focus on the page anymore, and sleep claimed
the day once again.
It's
4:30 a.m. What am I doing awake? Is
it the incessant roar of the mine ventilators and ore crushers?
Nope, although that would have been reason enough.
King Bladder wins another one. Outside,
it's cool and the wind is blowing strongly from the north, but it's not raining.
Back to bed and slumber land, I'm awakened by my alarm at 5:40 a.m.
Now it's raining; I can hear the drizzle sputtered against my tent by the
wind, still blowing from the north. Oh
well! Time to get up!
After
packing away a wet tent like everyone else, I seek a place to eat breakfast.
We've got absolutely no shelter at all on this moonscape site.
The cooking crew does an award-winning job of making french toast and
porridge while standing in the cold and drizzle.
Most of us eat under the truck, or standing in the shelter of the truck.
Two people decide to eat sitting in the truck, which quickly gets on
everyone's nerves as others try to get in and out of the already-cramped space
to get out clothes and stow their camping gear.
We're starting to get some friction in the group; nothing serious -- yet.
Actually, I'm amazed that our group lasted four weeks with great harmony.
Today
is not shaping up to be a great cycling day.
We've got 145 km to go, about 50 km eastward from Hemlo to White River,
and then a turn southward and another 95 km to Wawa. It's alternating between drizzle and rain, the wind is
blowing about 25 km/hr from the north and forecast to increase to 30, and it's
10C. Add that to the trucks and
other traffic that throw up tons of gritty spray, and it would seem like a good
day to call in sick. That is not an
option, however.
As
I put on all of my wet and cold weather gear, I'm thinking about how to handle
this day. I'm remembering the day
in B.C. through Salmon Arm and how miserable I was, and I decide that I won't
have that experience again. I layer
on neoprene booties on top of my shoes, fleece/lycra leg-warmers and
arm-warmers, fleece gloves over my cycling gloves, a lightweight polar fleece
vest over my cycling jersey, a Gortex jacket, and a Gortex helmet cover.
Ready for the road! By now
I've thought through my approach to the day, drawing on lessons learned in other
situations. I cannot control the
wind direction or strength; I cannot control the temperature; I cannot control
whether it rains, or how hard. What
I can do is choose how I respond to what this day is throwing at me. I choose to enjoy the challenge of the day.
I know I'm strong, I can do the distance, I can handle whatever the
terrain is, I've got a map, I know there will be stop points along the way where
I can get warmed and fed if needed, I've got bananas, sandwiches, Cliff Bars and
125 oz of Gatorade -- all I need is an attitude that will lift me above the
weather and the physical challenge it presents.
I
leave camp at 7:00 a.m. -- first out. I'm
followed about 10 minutes later by Karl and then a few minutes later by Jules.
I'm setting out alone today; it's important to me that I ride my own pace
and deal with my own mental demons on a day like today.
The first section is 50 km to White River.
It's raining, there's a strong crosswind, and it's cold.
I try and pace myself to ride fast enough to generate enough heat to stay
warm, yet not so fast that I sweat a lot and end up soaked.
This is fated to be a losing battle and I know that it's impossible to
ride all day in cold rain without getting soaked through anyway.
If I can delay the inevitable even by half an hour I'll be happy.
My
pace to White River averages 25 km/hr. The terrain is generally flat to small
hills, and the highway twists and turns so that the crosswind is sometimes a
headwind and sometimes a tailwind. To
help lift above the weather, I'm thinking about all rides I've done in great
weather, and signing Beach Boys songs for a summertime air.
One advantage of a moderate pace is that I've got extra lung capacity to
sing as I ride; one advantage of riding solo is that nobody else is subjected to
my serenading.
Rounding
one bend in the road while belting out an off-key rendition of "California
Girls", I startle a pair of moose foraging beside the road.
They look up and then charge off into the woods.
Even the moose can't tolerate my singing!
Perhaps I should try singing at mosquitoes, eh?
After
about 20 km I spot a riding coming up behind me, about half a kilometer back.
Karl catches and passes me at about 25 km, and we agree to meet up the
road in White River. Jules catches me at 33 km, and we ride about the same pace
the remaining 17 km to White River, where we spot Karl's bike at Robin's Donuts
and pull in to join him. By
now we're soaked through and only our physical effort keeps us warm.
In Robin's Donuts, hot soup, coffee, hot chocolate, donuts, cinnamon buns
and so on all go down very easily. (Jules
and Karl in picture at right) While Jules, Karl and I sit there
trying to fill up with warm food, Jon and then John and Karin arrive.
Pretty soon Robin's looks like a refuge for cold, wet cyclists with
dripping clothes and shivering people sitting around.
Jules
and I leave Robin's at about 10 a.m., agreeing to each ride our own pace. First
though, we stop at the Winnie the Pooh monument to get a picture to add to our
"tacky statues of Canada" collection. White River was the place where Lieutenant Harry Colbourn, a native of
Winnipeg, purchased a bear in 1919, naming it Winnie after his
birthplace. Sent oversees to France, Colbourn left the bear in the London
Zoo where it was seen by A. A. Milne. Milne went on to write about
"Winnie the Pooh", creating a series of stories for his son
Christopher.
It's
95 km to Wawa. Jules gradually
pulls ahead by gaining a little on each uphill.
I gain back a little on each downhill, and charge the flat sections to
catch him again. After a while he
pulls ahead on a series of hills and I let him go, content to ride my own ride
again. From White River, the road
has turned generally south. Ever
since Kamloops, with the exception of minor southing into Portage and and the
stretch from Kenora to Fort Frances, we've been traveling eastward, ever
eastward. At White River we turn
south toward Sault Ste. Marie. This is an excellent day to be traveling southbound, as the
wind is blowing about 25 km/hr from the north.
With the wind at my tail, I spin along quite comfortably at anywhere from
30 to 50 km/hr, only slowing down a little when larger hills force me to.
In the entire 95 km stretch, I only stop very briefly once, to get some
bananas and Cliff Bars out of my trunk pack.
Then it's back to spinning down the road, eating as I ride.
Over this 95 km distance I average 35.2 km/hr.
Pretty good for an old guy in the rain at 10C, even with the help of a
moderate tailwind.
The
campground at Wawa is just before town, at the 145 km mark.
Watching the roadside signs and establishments, I see nothing that
matches the campground name we're looking for.
At 145 km I find myself at the Wawa Goose and the turn for Wawa.
I've come too far. @!#$%^%
Pulling into the conveniently located tourist info centre beside the Wawa
Goose, I meet up with Jules who's done the same thing as I have.
We get directions back to the campground -- into the wind! @#$%^ !!! Interestingly, even though Jules and I rode our own pace
this afternoon, he only gained about 10 minutes on me over 95 km -- that's how
close our riding pace is on average.
Before
setting out back into the wind and rain, we take pictures at the Wawa Goose to
add to our "tacky Canadian statues" collection. (see pic at
right of me plastered to base by wind and rain)
Doubling
back into the wind we're shivering cold, and arrive at the campground before
Brook. A few others are gathered in
the campground's lounge, watching TV with the TDC group a day ahead of us on
their rest day. Brook arrives
shortly and we set up camp. First
priority is to get a hot shower -- I'm cold, shivering uncontrollably and my
teeth are chattering. Being cold
and wet isn't fun. After a hot
shower, I'm feeling much better, get my tent set up, then gather laundry and
head off to the camp's combined office, lounge and laundry to get my washing
done and write this journal. It's a
real treat to be in a campground with great facilities, one of the advantages of
private campgrounds over Provincial Parks.
There's even a pay phone with a data jack; I'll be able to wing my
journal entries out as soon as I finish this one.
That's about ten minutes from now!
Today
was an interesting experience. Keeping
clearly in mind what you cannot control, what you can influence, and what you
can control is a good tactic in everyday life.
It allows one to choose how to approach situations.
I had a great ride today. It
could have been a miserable day. Instead, the day was a challenge to meet and
overcome. The 95 km from White
River to Wawa is the longest and fastest non-stop ride I've done.
Charging along the flat stretches at 45 to 50 km/hr, spinning in a high
gear, quads tight and pumping, was a real blast.
Memories of being cold will be gone quickly; memories of the fast ride in
the rain will last a long time. What
a life!
Day's
high: Overcoming
the weather with a positive attitude.
Day's
low: Overshooting
the campsite and having to double back into the cold wind.
Daily
Stats:
Weather: 10C in morning,
9C in afternoon; raining or drizzling all day; cold north wind at about 25
km/hr.
Official
distance: 145 km
Distance actually cycled:
148.7 km Avg
speed on road: 25 km/hr for first 50 km, then 35.2 km/hr for 95 km.
Average overall 31.6 km/hr.
Total
distance cycled to date:
3,980 km Total riding time to date: 151
hr 54 min
PBJs
consumed to date: 50
Bananas consumed to date: 110
...alan
Wawa RV Campground,
Wawa, Ontario
Day
36: Rest day in Wawa, ON
August
3, 2000
"Today's
troubles are like puddles; tomorrow they'll have evaporated."
anon
It
was cold last night! The
temperature dropped to 6C as a good ol' Canadian Arctic High dominated the local
weather scene. Nobody wanted to get
out of bed this morning, and it was tough to emerge from a warm sleeping bag
even at 7:30 a.m. Since we're a
good 4 km out of town at this campsite, Brook had planned to make eggs and bacon
for everyone this morning for 8:30 a.m. and I'd volunteered to help.
A hot shower warmed me enough to brave the cold, and working around the
three-burner camp stove helped too. Bruce
was already up making apple fritters, and Carol was up making home fries.
Pretty soon we had 7 or 8 people all trying to help make breakfast, and
everyone else lining up hungrily, attracted by the bacon pheromones permeating
the morning air. Even though
breakfast had been advertised for 8:30 a.m., by 8:00 a.m. most people have
eaten. Six packages of bacon, a ton
of home fries, several dozen apple fritters and about five dozen eggs just
vanish into hungry cyclists.
This
is to be a real rest day. Laundry
was done last night, leaving me to putter around sorting out my storage baskets
which get pretty confused between rest days, give Barbarella (my bike) a good
cleaning and inspection, make sure everything's ready for tomorrow's ride, and
then kick back and relax. By
mid-day all my chores are done. After
a couple of tuna sandwiches for lunch, I read for a while, nap for a while, read
a little more, nap a little more, and so forth until it's time to go and explore
the town.
A
group went into town to go bowling last night, and came back reporting that
there wasn't much to see or do. In
any event, Wawa is one of those places I'd always wondered about, and wanted to
see what's there. Several rode
bikes into town. Jules and I
hitched a ride with Karin's husband, John, who arrived last night with his
camper and two friends, Ron and Corrine, from the London Cycling Club.
They'll be shadowing our group and riding with us for several days.
It'll be nice to have more people in the mix.
As well, John's wife Lynn and his young son and daughter arrived last
night and will be camping along with us for a few days.
In
town, Jules and I hit the banks for some more cash, and then explore.
We're done. That's it.
Wawa is a town of about 4,000 (?) people and it's not a thriving
community. Several places boarded
up, several places looking like they're going out of business, and lots of
run-down motels near the highway. Not
an economic stronghold, for sure. We'd
planned to spend an hour exploring town and then go for dinner. Our tour lasted about 15 minutes, including an ice cream cone
and finding postcards. We
even tried browsing in Canadian Tire to kill a little time! Now
what? Visiting the grocery store,
we pick up our own supplies and catch a taxi back to camp.
After
dinner, I'm writing this journal in the camp lounge as people start to gather
for the ice cream fest and movie night. Tonight's
movie is Sixth Sense. Not sure if
I'll stay and watch it all or not. I fall asleep several times, and give up and go back to my
tent.
This
was a good rest day. I actually
rested, and feel good and ready for the next several days.
We've got a string of 150+ km days, from Wawa to Pancake Bay Provincial
Park just south of Lake Superior Provincial Park, then to Thessalon, then
Massey, then south through Little Current onto Manitoulin Island and
Manitowaning. From there we've got
a short day to South Baymouth to catch the ferry to Tobermory.
That day's only got 42 km riding plus the ferry ride, yet it's the only
"near rest" day we'll get before Toronto.
From Tobermory to Craigleith Provincial Park on Aug 9th, and then to
Rouge Park in Scarborough on Aug 10th. Then
a rest day. If we get some miserable weather, this'll be a very long
stretch of riding days
Day's
high: A
good rest day!
Day's
low: Once again,
what I thought would be a thriving little northern town appears to be a pretty
depressed place.
Weather:
Down
to about 6C overnight; clear blue sky turning to partly cloudly later in day;
high 21C
...alan
Wawa RV Campground,
Wawa, Ontario
Day
37: Wawa to Pancake Bay, ON
August
4, 2000
"The
only person you should ever compete with is yourself. You can't hope for a
fairer match." Todd Ruthman
What
a great day to be alive and on the Tour du Canada 2000!
Awesome weather, awesome scenery, awesome hills, awesome ride!
What a life!
The
day dawns with a clear blue sky that will last all day.
It's not quite as cold as yesterday morning, yet 10C is still pretty
chilly. There was also a very heavy dew last night, leaving us with sodden tents
to pack away again. After the usual hearty breakfast, Jules and I hit the road at
7:15 a.m. We're getting a tad later
because the sun is later rising these days (setting earlier too).
There's quite a damp chill in the air this morning and until the sun
burns it away we're wearing arm warmers as well as jackets over our jerseys.
Today's
route takes us south from Wawa along highway 17, through Lake Superior
Provincial Park, to Pancake Bay Provincial Park. We're not long on the road before we hit the first big
uphill, the Michipicoten River valley. We're
following the rugged coastline of Lake Superior and the highway crosses many
rivers and streams, each of which gives us a big downgrade and upgrade.
And, some of these hills are monsters!
We've
got a slight headwind, about 10 km/hr out of the south, that'll increase to about
20 km/hr in the afternoon out of the southwest. That's just enough to be bothersome this morning, making us
pedal harder, even downhill, to keep up a good pace.
The temperature variations are quite amazing. As we pass into a patch of sunlight sheltered from the wind,
it's nice and warm. As we plunge
into the shadows of the big hills around us, the cold breeze from Lake Superior
sends icy fingers through our clothing. There's
no doubt that Lake Superior is cold -- the temperature of the breeze tells us
that.
We're
strong today following a rest day; we're pushing the pace on the uphills and
downhills, and we don't stop except for quick picture breaks until we hit
Katherine Cove in Lake Superior Provincial Park (picture, right). The cove is adjacent to the highway, and
I want to take a picture and see how cold the water really is.
I've never been in Lake Superior, and am anticipating a swim later. Yep, it's cold all right! To match my dinosaur fossil find in
Drumheller, I find an entire preserved triceratops in the sand.
It's about two centimeters long, and painted brightly.
A new mascot! Christened
"Biff", the little plastic dinosaur is super-glued to my trunk pack to
ride beside Bucky the Beaver. Now
Bucky won't be lonely back there. What
a team, Biff and Bucky on
Barbarella. We're a regular
traveling circus act now!
The
scenery today is spectacular. Early
in the morning the lakes we pass are dark, still and wreathed in tendrils of
smoky mist, their shores reflecting the trees around them. Over many hills we're presented with vistas of Lake Superior,
deep blue and stretching to the horizon. Along
the highway cuts, the rock walls tower over us in pinks, whites, greys, blacks
and other colours of granite, often run through with seams of white quartz.
Beautiful!
Our
first real stop is at the Indian Pictograph site in Lake Superior Provincial
Park, about 80 km into our ride today. Leaving
our bikes at the trailhead, we hike in about 400 m to the coastline. All along
the way we pass signs warning that the rocks are slippery and if the lake is
rough, we could be swept into the lake. 
The
signs are quite clear that death and injury have been seen before at this site.
Undaunted, we press on, and break out of the woods as the path comes to
the rocky coast of Lake Superior. Ahead
of us along the short is a 15 to 20m high cliff with a narrow sloping ledge
(picture, right).
John's wife Lynn and their two children are just clambering off the ledge
and back up the trail. They're
clearly having a good time. A park guide advises me to take off my cycling shoes
and socks for better grip on the rock, and out I go.
On one side of me is the cliff, on the other the rock slopes smoothly
away for a meter or so and then drops off a few metres into the crystal clear
water of the Lake. In a storm, it's
easy to see how people could get washed off this ledge by waves.
There's a 1,200 km fetch here, and I can imagine the waves get pretty
fierce with a west wind blowing for any length of time.
Out on the ledge, we can see ochre paintings on the cliff face, done by
Indians several centuries ago -- Indian grafitti! (picture
below, left) Site seen and pictures taken, it's back up the trail to collect our bikes
and get back on the road.
We're
hardly back up to speed again when we enter a 20 km stretch of construction
which presents us with milled pavement -- the top surface has been ground off
preparatory to repaving. In a car,
milled pavement is noisy; on a bicycle it's downright ugly. The vibrations make our feet and hands numb.
The downgrade to the Montreal River valley is at least a 100 m drop, yet
my bicycle is vibrating and jumping around so much that I have to put on the
brakes at 61 km/hr. This is the first time I've been scared going downhill, and
I've gone a lot faster than this on smooth pavement. Over about 50 km/hr though and Barbarella is so
skittish that I'm afraid of losing traction.
If I go down on this stuff it'll tear my skin off pretty quickly.
Slowing down is tricky too; again I don't want to lose traction and go
down - it'd be like doing a swan dive onto a cheese grater.
The
break for lunch at the Trail's End Inn in Montreal River Harbour is a welcome
break. Hands, feet and bum are
numb, and I've got a headache from
riding 20 km up and down hills on the milled pavement.
The lunch special today is beef barley soup, sandwich and chips -- just
great. The local folks tell us that
we're through the construction now, and that we've only got three more big hills
before the road smooths out, the hills end, the road turns eastward for a few
kilometers, and we'll be able to spin easily for the rest of our journey today.
Later on, Sue and Bruce will tell me that they stopped for lunch about an
hour after we did, and were approached by Gary Shantz, a colleague from work,
asking for me. I guess he'd seen a
number of bikers, and knew I'd be along this stretch today. Unfortunately, we didn't connect.
We
reach Pancake Bay after 8 hours on the road; 6 hours of it on the bike.
Our site at the group camping area is right on the beach, and my tent is
pitched in sand. A group of us go
for a swim in the Lake. It's cold, but refreshing and quite passable after a few
minutes. Now we're refreshed and
ready for dinner.
Today
was a great day! Big hills
conquered in style. Headwind not a
problem. Big downhills to speed
down into the headwind. Today we
climbed 1,620m and descended 1,720m. This
has been our biggest climbing day since the mountains.
What a day; what a life!
Day's
high: Great
weather, great hills, great scenery, great campground.
Day's
low: 20 km of
milled pavement.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
Bonzer!
Official
distance: 152 km
Distance actually cycled:
156.6 km Avg
speed on road: 26.1 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
4,136 km Total riding time to date: 157
hr 54 min
Total
climbing today:
1,620m Total
descending today: 1,720m
PBJs
consumed to date: 51
Bananas consumed to date: 113
...alan
Pancake Bay Provincial Park,
Pancake Bay, Ontario
Day
38: Pancake Bay to Thessalon, ON
August
5, 2000
"If
we don't get back on the road we won't get there today."
...alan
"If we don't get back on the road nobody will get dinner."
...jules
Alan, Jules and Eric at a prolonged lunch break at Harvey's in Sault Ste. Marie,
with 90 km left to go, and Eric on galley duty today.
Brrrr!
This is summer!?!? 8C this morning! I
camped on the beach last night and my tent and everything in it are drenched
with dew this morning, including me. Brrr!
Strangely enough, those who pitched their tents in the trees got no dew
at all. Not fair!
The view wasn't worth the cold and damp, and having to pack up dripping
equipment and put on damp clothing this morning.
Hitting
the road at 7:15 a.m. we shiver along in the morning dampness and first
stirrings of what will later become a headwind.
Our route today tends to follow the Lake Superior coastline south from
Pancake Bay to Sault Ste. Marie. The
road climbs a few hills and descends again and again to lake level.
Jules and I are running a little slowly this morning due to the cold --
it's hard to get warmed up and loose today.
I'm having a hard time spinning well, and Jules is fighting a calf cramp.
I'm wearing my rain jacket over a jersey and arm warmers, and fleece
gloves, all to try and stay warm. After
an hour or so though, we manage to loosen up and start to roll more smoothly.
At
38 km the road turns inland and we say, "Goodbye Gitchee Gumee."
We're done with Lake Superior. As
we turn inland, the weather warms noticeably, evidence of the effect this
massive body of cold water has on the local climate.
We've been on the road for about an hour and a half, and it's time to
start eating. Digging out a banana
while riding, I do the "biker banana" routine.
Biting off the end, I use my teeth to peel it. As I hold it in one hand to eat it, I jam it into my face to
peel it further. If the banana is
somewhat overripe, this can be messy, but usually works just fine.
At
53.2 km we hit "Mile High Hill" near Heydon, about 18 km from Sault
Ste. Marie. This is our biggest
climb since the mountains, at 134m in 2.6 km (about a 5% grade).
It's not a mile high, but it is a monster indeed!
The only way to tackle a hill this long and steep is to settle into a
steady grind -- for me that's about 70 rpm in 1-1 gear; it's not fast but it
gets me there and isn't so slow a cadence that my knees are unduly stressed.
It also means standing in a 1-2 or 1-3 gear from time to time to stretch
out the legs and use a different set of muscles.
Still, climbing this monster is about 10 minutes of tough aerobic work,
and the trick is to stay aerobic, not go anaerobic, and to keep spinning through
the crest to clear the accumulated
lactic acid out of the overused muscles.
We
roll into the Sault at 10 a.m., just as the DQ is opening.
We're their first customers of the day!
We've been DQ deprived since Thunder Bay, so we just had to stop and
indulge, even at 10 in the morning. Besides,
Jules insisted, so what could I say? While enjoying our treats, Eric wheels up
and joins us. From the DQ we
visit a nearby bike shop -- Eric is looking for tubes.
They don't have the right size, but the second shop we visit a few blocks
away does, and Eric's happy now. Heading
downtown, we ride along the waterfront for a bit. The
St. Mary's River runs through here, draining Lake Superior 7m down into
Lake Huron. Judging by the wakes
around the navigation bouys in the river, there's about an 8 kt current running
downstream. Navigating lake
freighters through this current to the locks must be a tad hairy!
Visiting
another bike shop downtown, Jules scores a good deal on new bike shoes -- flashy
red and yellow. I pick up a wind
vest for cold mornings, as well as a fleece top on sale.
Good deals and an additional discount to boot!
Most shops do give us a discount just for asking when we explain who we
are and the journey we're on. Leaving
the downtown area, we head back out to highway 17, leaving town.
Along the way we stop at Harvey's for a great lunch and don't feel like
getting back on our bikes. We've
got over 80 km left to go, the temperature's up, and there's a headwind blowing
-- not a good sign for a great ride. Hence our quotes for the day (at
top).
Back
on the highway we're fighting the headwind -- this is tough work.
We use a three-bike paceline, rotating often to spread out the work.
It's also the August long weekend, the traffic is very heavy, and the
shoulder is pretty narrow. There's
very little truck traffic, but trucks haven't worried us too much all the way
from B.C. Of more concern are the
number of campers and house trailers on the road -- these good folks are all
part-time amateurs when it comes to driving oversize rigs.
Unlike the truck drivers, they don't have the innate sense of vehicle
space, and the worry of some dolt who didn't pack up his Winnebago side steps is
always in the back of my mind.
We
stop a couple of times along the highway just for a stretch break and quick rest
before resuming our battle against the wind. We take a final stop for the day in Bruce Mines, about 16 km
from our campground destination. After
cold Gatorade and popsicles we're feeling better.
Tacia rolls in while we're there, and she joins us for the last stretch.
Back on the road for the final stretch, the wind has died a little and
Eric and Jules take the speed up a notch. Tacia
sticks with them for a while, but the burn rate is too much for me; with about
10 km to go I drop off the paceline on a hill, and fall back to ride my own pace. Cresting
the hill however, I see they're only about 500m ahead, Tacia still with them,
and they're still pulling
away. I decide to dig deep to try
and catch them. Putting my head
down I focus on my cadence, keeping it high, and up the gear I'm pushing.
For the last 8 km, except for one hill, I'm sure I never drop below 40
km/hr. This is going to hurt
tomorrow! Still, I can't catch
them; turns out Eric and Jules decide to race the last few kilometers and
they're running at about 45 km/hr. I pull into the campground to find them already there, a
minute or two ahead of me.
Our
campground tonight is on the North Channel (between Manitoulin Island and the
north shore of Lake Huron. It's a
pleasant enough place, although packed and noisy on this long weekend.
The water is warm and shallow out as far as we care to walk.
Tomorrow
will be an easier day -- 130 km from Thessalon to Massey.
That'll be a nice break from the last two monster days.
I'm constantly amazed at the chores that need to be done every day just
to get organized for the next day's ride. After
personal items, bike maintenance, setting up camp, postcards and journal, it's
9:30 p.m., dark, and time for bed. What
a life!
Day's
high: Finding
enough reserve to push hard the last 10 km, averaging close to 40 km/hr.
Day's
low: Getting
dropped with 10 km to go and not being able to catch up again.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
Cold in morning
(8C); hot in afternoon (30C); gusty SE headwinds most of the day, strong in
afternoon (25 km/hr).
Official
distance: 167 km
Distance actually cycled:
163.1 km Avg
speed on road: 28.4 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
4,300 km
Bananas
consumed to date:
116
...alan
Pinecrest Park,
Thessalon, ON
Day
39: Thessalon to Massey, ON
August
6, 2000
"Ability
is what you're capable of doing. Motivation
determines what you do. Attitude
determines how well you do it." Lou Holtz
Today's
quote is very appropriate. Last night was nice and warm with a low of about 14C,
yet with drizzle starting at about 5 a.m. The
drizzle stopped long enough to let us have breakfast, and then it started again.
Shortly after Jules and I hit the road around 7 a.m., the drizzle resumed
and then turned to rain.
Our
team member with diabetes is going to attempt the entire ride today.
She's been working up to longer distances, and feels ready to try a full
day. There's enough traffic in this
area that if it doesn't work, she can catch a ride from someone.
This is one gutsy lady. She's
seeking her physical limits, and is willing to risk having to ride the truck
tomorrow to test herself. She's in
no danger; the only risk is to her pride and self-confidence.
Best of luck to her!
Warm
rain! This is the first time this
trip that the rain has been warm enough to ride in without getting chilled to
the bone. I stop to put on my rain
jacket and helmet cover anyway, just to preserve body heat. There's no sense in wasting calories generating body heat
when I need all my energy to battle the headwinds.
When I stop to put on my rain gear, I'm behind Jules, and he doesn't see
me stop and keeps on going. When I
catch him a few kilometres later he's pulling into a roadside diner to get dried
out, warmed up and fed. I'm feeling
great in this warm downpour, despite the 15 km/hr headwinds, and decide to keep
going.
For
the next hour or so I spin happily along, occasionally signing Beach Boys tunes
"for attitude" in the rain and headwind. I'm soaked to the skin, but I'm warm and it doesn't matter.
This is another good day for attitude to triumph over harsh conditions.
Rain is never fun to ride in, and describing it as "warm" is
only an attempt to be positive
about something I can't control. Headwinds
aren't fun either -- it's like slogging up a slow hill forever. Yet, I'm outside, traffic is still pretty light this morning
and I'm healthy. I'm cycling across
Canada. Things could be a lot
worse.
A
taste of a bit worse occurs when I feel my back tire going soft.
As luck would have it, the rain stops long enough to let me take off the
wheel, inspect it, pull a piece of glass out, replace the tube, inflate it and
get back on the road. I'm not going
to attempt to patch it in these conditions. As I slip the back wheel back onto
my bike, it starts raining again. I
must be living right, eh? When I
get to camp later, I'll add Barbarella's tires to my list of things to do.
Back
on the road, spinning into the wind and rain, the kilometres roll by slowly but
surely. Coming into Blind River,
there are signs for DQ, Tim's and Ronnie's. Wow! Prosperity for sure! Blind River brings back some
memories. Way back in 1976, C,
her dad and I spent three weeks cruising Georgian Bay and the North Channel in a
C&C 27' sloop. I remember the
islands in the North Channel well, and remember pulling into Blind River.
I also remember the ice cream shop in Little Current, am told it's still
there, and am looking forward to ice cream tomorrow.
The
town was not as well developed then as it is now -- I'm sure it's mostly due to
the heavier volume of traffic these days and the need for services that that
generates. Other than places like
Kenora, Sault Ste. Marie, Sudbury and perhaps a few other places, there's really
nothing of interest in Northern Ontario except the spectacular outdoors and the
(mostly leisure) activities that exploit it. All the way from Kenora, the towns have been few and far
between, with a lot of them consisting of nothing more than supporting services
for traffic and tourism. Some of
the towns still support key resource industries like mining or pulp mills.
A lot of the towns on the highway have a few tired looking motels,
non-descript roadside diners, occasional brand-name fast-food places in larger
centres, and gas stations. As unflattering as it sounds, a lot of these towns seem
little more than rest stops on a highway through noplace, to nowhere.
Thanks
to our "tax dollars at work" as huge signs tell us, the highway
appears to be in a constant state
of renewal, and is in pretty good shape almost everywhere.
This is in stark contrast to Saskatchewan, where the government is
explicitly allowing much of the highway network to revert to gravel. Generally,
the worst conditions we've encountered in Ontario are better than the average
conditions in Saskatchewan.
The
traffic's another matter. I can
tell we're approaching southern Ontario by the traffic patterns.
The truckers are as accommodating as they can be, as we've experienced
since Vancouver. Yet the car
traffic is getting much more impatient and aggressive.
The highway's posted at 90 km/hr, yet most of the traffic is doing well
over that -- more like 110 to 120 km/hr. As
well, I'm seeing more instances of oncoming traffic passing as it approaches us,
something we didn't see until Ontario. There's
nothing more unnerving that cycling along the shoulder and seeing a car pull out
of the oncoming traffic to pass. Today
I hit the gravel shoulder twice because of oncoming passers.
These folks ought to be sentenced to 100 hrs of cycling in downtown
Toronto, in cold rain, without a helmet.
In
Blind River I pull into the Tim Horton's for coffee and to dry out a bit.
A number of other riders are there, and more arrive over the next half an
hour. Tim's has these great hot air
hand dryers in the washroom. In ten
minutes, I've dried my socks, and somewhat dried my gloves, jersey, jacket and
shoes. This feels good, just like it did on the cold, rainy day
through Salmon Arm when we stopped at Tim's for the same routine.
Back
on the road, I've got about 65 km to go. Other
than occasional bursts of heavy traffic and the ever-present headwind, it passes
uneventfully, without rain, and I pull into Massey at about 1:00 p.m.
Our campsite tonight is at Chutes Provincial Park, a pleasant enough
place where I pitch my tent on a bed
of soft pine needles underneath a stand of white pine. Very cosy.
After setting up camp, I pack up all my wet and dirty laundry into my
backpack, head off for a shower, and then head into town to the laundromat. What a scummy little place it is. It looks like it went bankrupt years ago: the wall are
covered with graffitti, only one washer out of 16 works, and only two dryers out
of the row of about 10 work. This
is the only laundromat in town, and it shouldn't be called such. Nevertheless, I return to camp with a load of dry clothes,
ready for whatever tomorrow's weather might bring.
Just
before dinner, our friend with diabetes pulls in. She's been on the road all day, but completed the entire
distance under her own power, and is feeling great!
What an accomplishment! Her
feat gets a round of applause and a big hugs.
After
dinner, Tacia, Jeff and I walk down a trail to see the chutes -- low but very
pretty rapids and waterfalls running through the park.
After a few pictures, it's back to camp to finish this journal, make sure
everything's ready for tomorrow, and then ...zzzz...zzzzz...zzzz.
Tomorrow
we're off to Espanola along highway 17, and then we turn south, leaving the
highway we've been following since entering Ontario many, many days ago.
We turn south onto highway 6, headed for Little Current on Manitoulin
Island, and Manitowaning for the night. Jules,
Karin, John and I are on cook crew tomorrow, so we'll need to get there in good
time. Tomorrow's ride is 114 km, yet will be tough for a good
stretch as we climb through the La Cloche "mountain" range.
The reward on the other side though is the ice cream shop in Little
Current. Ice cream is always a
motivator, and I'm sure it'll help on the hills tomorrow to be thinking of ice
cream, a big bowl of ice cream.
Day's
highs:
Attitude
and self-reliance beat the elements again. Our diabetic team member completing
the day in good spirits and feeling strong.
Day's
low: The scummy
laundromat in Massey.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
Low about 14C
last night; high 20C; wind out of ESE backing to SE & gusty; rain, heavy at
times, from Thessalon to Blind River.
Official
distance: 130 km
Distance actually cycled:
130 km Avg
speed on road: 27.7 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
4,430 km
Bananas
consumed to date:
120
...alan
Chutes
Provincial Park,
Massey,
Ontario
Day
40: Massey to Manitowaning, ON
August
7, 2000
"Fall
seven times. Stand up eight." Japanese
proverb
Today
was a great day overall. Camping
under the pines last night, a bed of pine needles under my tent, made for a very
quiet and comfortable night. Even
better, there were no mosquitoes -- most
unusual. I was up early thanks to
biological imperative, so decided to stay up and leave early on my own as
another chance to find my own pace.
I
leave camp at 6:30 a.m. which is first light these days.
It has rained overnight and the road is still wet, yet not wet enough to
throw up rooster tails from my wheels. My
tires hiss along the wet pavement and it's calm, cool and quiet with only the
occasional car passing by. For sure
this is the nicest time of the day.
The
first stop of the morning is at Tim Horton's at McKerrow, the junction of
highways 17 and 6. A coffee and
donut later, I'm back on the road in a few minutes heading south on highway 6 to
Espanola. Coming over a rise and
down a short hill to cross the Spanish River and enter Espanola, I'm confronted
with a monstrosity of a Domtar plant out here in the middle of nowhere.
It's belching smoke and all kinds of fumes.
Whether pulp or paper manufacture of some sort, it's clearly helping the
town which seems pretty prosperous judging by the shape that the downtown is in.
Mind you, it's only about 7:45 a.m. on a holiday Monday morning, so it is
pretty quiet here too right now. Rolling
through Espanola, I spy another Tim Horton's -- that's two within six
kilometers! Clearly I'm getting
closer to southern Ontario.
After
Espanola, the terrain changes radically. Up
to know, the road has been pretty flat with hills only on river valleys.
Now the highway is winding up to cross the La Cloche mountains.
This is a very old mountain range that has been heavily glaciated and
eroded, leaving it less than 100m high it seems.
It's pretty terrain -- the shield rock here is pink and ochre granite
with large veins of white quartz in places.
The highway attempts to snake a path of least resistance, aided by
several deeply blasted rock cuts, some of which I stop to capture with my camera
(picture, right). The road however, twists
and turns, and there's no paved shoulder for most of the way.
With the twists and turns and hills, the sight lines for someone driving
with less than complete attention poses a risk to me, so I'm on the watch for
cars approaching from in front and behind.
Part way up one blind curving hill, I'm spinning close to the shoulder
and see a camper approaching from behind, still several hundred metres away.
Campers are the worst vehicles because most of the people driving them
only drive them a few hours a year, and they don't know their vehicle space very
well. At the same time, a car comes
over the crest of the hill ahead. I
can tell that this is going to be a pretty risky meeting.
If it were a truck behind me, I wouldn't be worried.
With a camper though I'm not taking the chance.
I hit the brakes hard to bleed off some speed, release them, and then go
for the gravel shoulder. When doing
this, the only way to survive is to stay off the brakes initially and let the
bike run as straight as possible to get the feel of the gravel -- anything else
risks a fall. The gravel seems firm
enough, so I shift my weight back over the rear tire and brake the back wheel to
slow down. Moving slowly now, I pop my right foot out of the pedal and get ready
to stop. Just then, my front wheel
buries itself in a patch of very soft sand in the gravel and twisting sideways,
brings me to a dead stop, and I do a slow motion fall over sideways, unable to
get my left foot out of the pedal in time.
This is called a "turtle crash" -- it's not fun at all and
looks really, really dumb.
The result is sand and gravel all over my sweaty body and clothes, a
skinned elbow, and a big chunk of skin off my left knee.
Brushing off as much sand and gravel as I can, I do the only thing
possible -- launch a few choice words at the impassive rock walls of the highway
cut, get back on my bike, and ride off down the highway, blood streaming down my
leg. Better to let it bleed itself
clean than muck around with it on the road.
That
bit of excitement over with, a few hills later I come across a very pretty
little lake beside the road. It's
still, reflecting the trees around it, one little bay is covered with water
lillies, and there's a very small islet with two very twisted, tortured,
bonsai-looking pines on it. This is
a photo opp for sure! After taking
three or four pictures (see study below), it's back on the bike to continue through the La Cloche
hills.
Before
long the highway drops out of the La Cloche range, turns southwest to head
towards Little Current, and the terrain changes radically.
I've just crossed the edge of the Canadian Shield.
No longer am I surrounded by granite outcroppings.
Now I'm on a flat plain with occasional limestone shelves visible beside
the highway. Most interesting of
all is to see a large flat area of limestone dotted with round granite boulders,
or "errants". These are
chunks of granite rounded by rolling along in meltwater streams under the retreating ice sheets
10,000 years ago, and left sitting on top of smoothly scraped limestone shelf.
The
wind has started to come up out of the west as well. It's blowing at about 20 km/hr now, and I'm headed southwest
for about 15 km to Little Current. Battling
a headwind was not part of today's plan. Oh
well! Nothing to do but put the
head down, get down on the handlebar drops, watch my cadence, sping a decent
resistance, and ignore the speed I'm making. It also feel strange to look
at the compass on my GPS unit and actually see SW. This is one of the very
few times we actually double back any distance at all westward.
After
grinding along this way for half an hour or so, I finally reach the swing bridge
over the North Channel narrows to Little Current.
It's just as I remember it from 24 years ago, except then I was sailing
through the gap with the bridge open after a fierce upwind tacking challenge to
try to make the once-per-hour bridge opening.
Now I find myself with a stop light since the old bridge is only one lane
wide and under renovation. Soon the
light turns green and an accommodating motorist waves me onto the bridge ahead of
him, letting me cross safely.
Entering
Little Current, the first thing I see is a Tourism Ontario building, where I
head in to clean up my leg. That
done, the damage doesn't look nearly so bad.
Leaving the building, I spot Jules and Karl next door at an ice cream
shop -- not the one we were headed for, but hey, any ice cream shop will do.
They had caught and passed me while I was in the tourism centre. While there, Craig arrives and joins us as well.
Double scoopers done, we head off into town to see the harbourfront and
get some late breakfast (or early lunch, whatever).
Little
Current is certainly more developed than I remember it being the first time I
was here. I guess that should be no
surprise after all these years. It's
a nice little town, with a very attractive harbourfront.
We find another ice cream shop on the harbourfront - the one I was
looking for - but it's closed so we head off to the Anchor Inn on the harbour-facing
street, which has a great looking outdoor deck.
It's
10:30 a.m., the waitress tells us they serve breakfast until 11:30, lunch isn't
served until 11:30, and the bar doesn't open until 11:00 a.m.
Hmmm! What to do?
We order tea and coffee and sip them while we wait for half an hour to
pass. As we sit there chatting, we
see Brook driving down the street in the big Ryder truck, and Catherine riding
with her. We all yell to get her
attention (and everyone else's!!) and she soon drives around the block, parks
nearby, and the two of them come to join us.
It's still not 11:00 a.m. yet so Brook and I head off down the street to
get some postcards. At the same
time, I pick up a little first aid kit to carry on my bike in my rear trunk
pack. I've had three turtle crashes
now on this trip, and I'm thinking I'd like to be a bit better prepared to clean
up a scraped knee on the road.
Returning
to the Anchor Inn's deck, I find a Corona with a twist of lime waiting for me.
It's after 11! As well, we
can now order lunch, so the orders go in for fish and chips, while Brook and
Catherine leave to go and do some grocery shopping.
The
fish and chips arrive shortly -- fresh whitefish, grilled to perfection.
What a treat this is! After
a perfect lunch there's only one possible dessert -- ice cream!
Back down to the end of the harbourfront where we find the dairy bar open
now, and get another round of ice cream. This
is a great trip, for sure! I'm
eating tons and tons, and still losing weight.
Returning to "civilization" is going to be tough for many
reasons, and appetite control is going to be a major challenge for several
weeks, I'm sure.
While
eating my second cone of the day, I walk along the harbourfront admiring the
boats, and remembering my last visit here.
It brings back memories of many good times sailing in different kinds of
boats, in different places, with C. I'm
feeling lonely now, and want to trade my bike for a boat right this minute.
I know that C's sea kayaking trip is about 10 to 15 km east under
that bridge, and I bet I could find them!
The
more realistic option wins out however, as we mount our bikes and climb the
short hill leading out of town on our way to Holiday Haven near Manitowaning.
We've got about 34 km to go, mostly SSW, and the wind is now blowing from
the W at about 25 km/hr, with backing gusts out of the SW at about 30 km/hr.
Not nice at all! Headwinds
and crosswinds were not in the plan today.
That great lunch is now sitting like a leaden lump in my gut -- this is
not going to be an easy 34 km, that's for sure. Craig, Jules and Karl are all stronger riders than me, so I
do the only smart thing, letting them go on ahead while I ride my own pace.
Into the wind, and up a series of hills climbing the spine of Manitoulin
Island, the three others gradually pull ahead of me.
Rounding one bend and gaining a brief downwind run, I spot them ahead on
the shoulder waiting for me near a lookout stop.
We
all pull off the road at the lookout, where we can see the vista of northern
Georgian Bay spread out before us. We
can see Strawberry Island, Heywood Island, and beyond it in the haze the edges
of Kilarny Provincial Park. Just
past there somewhere is my wife, probably paddling peacefully in her sea kayak
behind some protective pink granite islands, sheltered from the rough waters
this wind is kicking up. So close,
the closest we've been since she said goodbye to me at the airport at the end of
June, and yet still so far.
(L-R: Jules, Alan, Craig, Karl)
At
the lookout we meet yet another cyclist riding with a fully loaded bike. This
fellow is on his way from Halifax to Edmonton.
He's got a long way to go yet, and not much time to do it if he wants to
do it before the weather starts to turn in the early fall.
After some pictures of our little group, we're back on the road.
Another 16 km to go! Into
the wind all the way!
Finally,
I spot the sign and then the turnoff for Bidwell Rd to Holiday Haven.
This last bit of highway has been a bit of a nightmare.
Three times in the space of about half an hour I was confronted with
oncoming traffic passing. There may
be no cars or trucks coming, but what about me!
I find that by sitting upright (heck with wind resistance -- I'll simply
slow down!) and riding a metre or so out from the shoulder line, when there's no
overtaking traffic, then I present a profile more like a motorcyclist, and I
don't get the oncoming passers anymore. This
is probably the biggest risk of any I've encountered this trip. The truckers generally are great. Impatient and aggressive Ontario vacationers on the other
hand are just the opposite. We
didn't get this in any other province, on all kinds of roads, and in all kinds
of traffic conditions. And to think
these fools are in such a rush because they're on vacation and they're
relaxed?!?
Holiday
Haven turns out to be a very nice private campground on Lake Manitou.
How about that! A couple of days ago I was swimming in Lake Superior for the
first time. Now I'm swimming in the
largest freshwater lake in the world that's on an island, that happens to be the
largest freshwater island in the world. Totally
cool! The water is warm, and the
lake is indeed large, large enough for me to be floating and playing in waves
half a metre to a metre high. Totally cool; makes the day worthwhile.
Jules,
Karin, John and I are on galley duty (again!!) so our free time is short by a
few hours as we recycle some leftovers into chili, make some rice and a big
tossed salad, and feed the hungry hordes.
Today
was a tough day with the headwinds, although the hills through the La Cloche
range weren't anywhere near as tough as several other climbing days we've had
recently. Tomorrow we have a
leisurely start since we're only going about 35 km to South Baymouth to catch
the ferry to Tobermory. This
substitutes for a rest day. The campground is just outside Tobermory, so we'll have lots of time to
dink around. Goodbye Northern
Ontario, Hello Southern Ontario! Here
we come! Forty days out of
Vancouver, bound for St. John's, we're cycling across Canada! What a life!
Day's
high: A
double ice-cream cone day.
Very peaceful ride early in the morning.
Day's
low: Crashing on
the shoulder of the highway.
Daily
Stats:
Weather: Damp but warm
(about 15C) in morning, building W and WSW winds during day; sunny, warm and
windy in afternoon (22C).
Official
distance: 114 km
Distance actually cycled:
114 km Avg
speed on road: 27.8 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
4,544
Bananas
consumed to date:
122
...alan
Holiday
Haven Resort,
Lake
Manitou on Manitoulin Island, Ontario
Day
41: Manitowaning to Tobermory, ON
August
8, 2000
"This
is the only way to cycle." Jules, on ferry
As
Jules put it so aptly sitting on the ferry, "This is the only way to
cycle." I'm writing the first
part of this journal entry sitting in the lounge on the M.S. Chi-Cheemaun
("Big Canoe") enroute from South Baymouth on Manitoulin Island to
Tobermory, Ontario.
Last
night was nice and warm, the campground was quiet, and we had the absolute
luxury of no dew, allowing us to
pack away dry tents this morning. Jules,
John, Karin and I were on galley duty for a relaxed breakfast, and apple-cinammon
pancakes are what we served up. Today
we're taking the ferry, we're booked on a 1:30 p.m. departure, and we've only
got 36 km to cycle between the camp and the ferry dock.
That allows us to delay breakfast for a while, and have a relaxing ride.
Jules
and I leave camp around 8:30 a.m. and head into Manitowaning, 6 km down the
road, to mail postcards at the Post Office there. Hitting the road again, we've got 30 km left to go, and the
weather gods have given us a light cross-headwind out of the west.
The route today is mostly flat, with some small ups and downs.
After several minutes, we encounter the first hill and Jules takes off
like there's no tomorrow. I can't
match him on the hills, but do my best to crest not too far behind, and then
spin hard to catch up. Yet he's
still pulling away! This boy is out
for some serious speed this morning. Jules
says later he didn't intend to ride hard today, but that's clearly not his
intent right now. After a small
downhill and a flat stretch, I'm about 100m behind him, and we're running over
40 km/hr. A couple of uphills
later, and he's about 500m ahead. For
the rest of the distance to South Baymouth, I'm pushing high 30's to low 40's
and my max for the morning is captured by my cyclometer as 50.6 km/hr -- on the
flats! Yet Jules maintains his lead. On each little uphill he gains a tad, and
across the flats I slowly claw some of it back.
My cadence is running 95 to 105 persistently, trying to keep loose and
quick to absorb the hills without losing momentum.
We pull into South Baymouth none too soon for my liking. What a great
ride! Clearly well above a burn
rate I could sustain all day, yet at the same time clearly demonstrating how
much stronger I am than a few weeks ago.
Waiting
around for the ferry for a couple of hours, we consume a big breakfast in the
dockside restaurant, ice cream at the diary bar next door, subs from down the
street, and assorted other stuff. Just
before the ferry arrives, the clouds move in and it starts a gentle rain.
Oh well!
Several
of us visit the truck when Brook arrives to collect backpacks with stuff we want
on the boat. We put several bikes
in the truck to save a little money to go towards our food budget.
After the ferry unloads, we're first on with our bikes, right to the
other end of the car deck, tying them with bungee cords to side rails for the
trip. Then it's off to the lounge
deck to find some comfy chairs, which we do.
Some nap, some eat, some write journals or postcards -- this is a nice
break as Chi-Cheemaun takes us forward on our journey.
It's
now 10:00 p.m. and I'm resuming the completion of today's journal entry.
Earlier, I had a very nice surprise when the ferry docked.
We're exiting the bow of the ferry onto the dock area when I see Bill, a
good friend from grade school days, best man at my wedding, and still a great
friend. Then I spot Lucille too, his wife. What
a great surprise! They're on
vacation in Southampton for a couple of weeks, know my trip's itinerary from my
journal, and made the trek to Tobermory for a visit.
While the other cyclists go off in search of ice cream, shopping or
exploring, Bill, Lucille and I have a chance to chat, catch up on family events,
and have a drink at Craigies while I have a first dinner.
Craigies in Tobermory is not the flashiest looking place, but they have
the greatest whitefish around anywhere, and the friendliest waitress you'll find
anywhere too. After catching up on
news and local events from home, we part company, they back to Southampton, me
to find some biker buds and see what's going on.
Almost
immediately I run into Kelly, Craig and Eric who are just about to trek around
to the Big Tub Harbour lighthouse to see the swimmin' rocks.
It's a quick trip around, it's cool and damp and not the greatest
swimming weather, yet the coast is nice to see anyway.
Then
we retrace the road back to town and head south on highway 6 for six kilometres
to Harmony Acres, our campsite for the night.
It's raining on and off, making setting up camp not the greatest fun.
Yet, the smells wafting from tonight's dinner are incredible.
After setting up camp, getting a few chores done and having a shower,
dinner's ready. We're feasting on
beef stroganoff and borscht, and both are outstanding.
I must admit I don't like cooked cabbage and I don't like beets, yet
eating that steaming bowl of borscht while standing in the light rain was
absolute heaven.
After
dinner, there's another task that must be attended to.
Jules' back wheel has been making most unpleasant noises the last couple
of days, and it's only a week since we repacked the bearings.
This isn't good news at all. I
think that the wheel is okay to ride on, and we don't have ideal working
conditions to overhaul a hub without losing bearings, yet discussion with others
suggests that the prudent thing to do is to do the overhaul.
Jules gathers up all the tools, and he, Karl and I take over the porch of
the shower building, lit by a strong flashlight from Karin's husband John, and
commence surgery. Taking the cogset
off and extracting the bearings and axle, we find the hub full of grit, and the
bearings on one side washed clean of grease.
Okay, time to clean it all out and repack it. Ron comes by and suggests packing not only the bearings, but
the entire inside of the hub assembly, with grease, which we do.
That's a smart suggestion from Ron; doing it will ensure that the grease
in the bearings can't simply migrate into hub space around the axle, and it
helps to keep grit and water out.
We
finish the task at 9:30 p.m. and it's been raining for the last half an hour,
raining hard with occasional thunder. Not
nice weather. Cleaned up, there's
only one thing to do -- dive into tents. The weather forecast for tomorrow isn't nice either.
The weather gods are threatening rain showers for the
entire day. Tomorrow's a long one
too -- 160 km to Craigleith Provincial Park.
Right now the wind is howling and the rain is streaming down hard. I
didn't peg my tent down today, figuring I didn't need to in the woods.
But it sounds pretty fierce outside.
Only one cure for this. I'm
going to turn off this computer, crawl into my sleeping bag, and go to sleep.
Goodnight!
Day's
high: Single
fastest ride I've ever done. Seeing
Bill and Lucille in Tobermory. Superb
dinner.
Day's
low: Weather
turning cloudy and rainy when sunny was forecast.
Daily
Stats:
Weather: Warm start to day
(about 17C) and clear in morning; clouding over with some rain around noon;
heavy rain at night.
Official
distance: 42 km
Distance actually cycled:
42 km Avg
speed on road: 27.8 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
4,585 km
Bananas
consumed to date:
124
...alan
Harmony
Acres,
Tobermory,
ON
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