The Great Canadian Cycling Adventure
Across Canada by Bicycle in the Tour du Canada 2000
Welcome > Prairies to Canadian Shield > Around Lake Superior
Prairies to Canadian Shield: Fort Qu'Appelle SK to Thunder Bay ON
Day
21: Fort Qu'Appellle to Spy Hill, Saskatchewan
July
19, 2000
"You
can't give a hug without getting one in return."
First,
a brief conclusion to the rest day activities.
Fourteen of us went out for dinner at the Off-Broadway Bistro in Fort
Qu'Appelle, located on Boundary St just off Broadway. If you ever find yourself in Fort Qu'Appelle, be sure to
visit this charming little Bistro for lunch or dinner. For $10.95 each (wine was extra) we enjoyed an absolutely
fantastic buffet with roast pork, tortiere, turkey dumplings, two kinds of soup,
vegetable medley, mashed potatoes, two kinds of pasta and I can't remember what
else. The food is divine, the
ambiance charming and comfortable, and the hostess fun and friendly.
Be sure to visit.
Also
on rest day, Jules found a new mascot, Sarge the wolf.
John has adopted Sneaky the cheetah, and New Craig (vs Kiwi Craig) joined
the fun by adopting a snail as his mascot.
We are now all traveling with mascots on our bikes to help keep us from
taking our exploits too seriously.
This
morning dawned cold at 10C under a leaden sky.
Jules and I were first out of camp at 6:40 am just as the NNW wind was
starting to stir. After leaving
Fort Qu'Appelle, we were greeted with a 100m climb (about 3% to 4%) out of the
Qu'Appelle River valley; not a great way to warm up in the morning.
Once out of the river valley and onto the plains again, we set out in a
north easterly direction on highway 10, or so we thought, having taken the
indicated turns and followed the appropriate signs in town.
However, Saskatchewan seems to spend about as much on road signage as
they do on maintenance. We cycled
for several kilometers, through a few intersections, with no highway signs
anywhere. Wanting to be sure we were on the right route, and not
wanting to go back down the big hill and potentially have to climb it again, we
flagged down a passing car to verify that indeed we were on the right road.
Over
the next hour or so the wind picked up strength to about 25 km/hr out of the
north. As our route was generally
east, that gave us a crosswind which vectored into a quartering headwind
commensurate with our own speed. We
managed to keep spinning at about 26 or 27 km/hr most of the time, and thought
that was okay. Along the road we
spotted several hawks, one in flight, one sitting on a highway sign, and one
perched on a sign that said, "DANGER" -- how appropriate!
The
weather was gloomy: heavy cloud, some rain evident at a distance, and that cold
north wind. It was pretty chilling.
At the 28 km point, the road turned south for six kilometers, giving us a
nice downwind run to let us get warmed up a little.
It wasn't long enough, however, as we turned east again too soon. Reaching the town of Neudorf after 65 km, we decide to stop
for breakfast in a little diner. Once
again this is a small-town restaurant, tiny in size but big in heart.
We're greeted with smiles, curiousity and friendliness by everyone we meet in
the little towns. Feeling
warmed after hot chocolate, coffee, eggs and toast, we're ready to roll again.
For the next 78 km, the trip is unremarkable except for the constant cold of the north wind. It's still only 10C, and we're pretty chilled. Occasionally we pass over wet stretches of pavement, evidence of the occasional showers that haven't caught us yet. We do pass through several stretches of drizzle however, just enough to chill us even more. The land is gently rolling, with lots of marshy ponds and little lakes, usually populated by a variety of ducks. We also pass a coyote roadkill at one point. Cycling past lots of little towns with populations seldom more than several hundred, each one seems to boast curling prowess. Here the town sign boasts of several regional and provincial championships. There the town sign boasts of being home to this champion or that one. Community spirit must really come alive during the long cold winter, through the social avenue of curling.
Robert catches us while
we're stopped for a snack, and we continue on together.
Reaching the town of Esterhazy at our 143 km point, it starts to rain,
and we head for the Dairyville Burger Bar.
After some lunch combined with our own PBJ's, and waiting out a heavy
rain spell, we don our cold/wet gear and head out.
Putting on the extra gear provides the insurance we're looking for.
The back end of the front has now passed, it doesn't rain again, and it starts
to warm up a tad.
Esterhazy
is the "Potash Capital of Canada", home to several potash mines, one
of which we pass as we head out of the area.
After about 174 km we enter the campground to find Karl, New Craig and
Kiwi Craig already there. Tents,
showers and other chores done, it's time to relax for a while before dinner.
The weather forecasts are all indicating clearing and warmer weather to
come, and sure enough around 6:00 p.m. the clouds start to disperse and the sun
breaks through, warming and drying us.
Today
is Karl's birthday. His first celebration was a round of "Happy
Birthday" at breakfast, and a gift of a pair of glittery handlebar
streamers that he was expected to ride with all day, and ride with them he did.
At dinner time there's another round of "Happy Birthday" with
another to follow as the cakes are brought out, complete with candles.
Dinner tonight was mashed potatoes, vegetable chili, a bean salad and a
cucumber salad, with lots for seconds.
We're
near the eastern fringe of this time zone; as a result the sun is setting
earlier -- tonight at 8:55 p.m. Tomorrow
we cross into Manitoba and change time zones again and evenings will be longer
for awhile. Dawn will be later too though, closer to 6 instead of 5 a.m.).
Tomorrow's route is a little shorter at 154 km, to Minedosa.
The
shorter day will be welcome; my back end is suffering mostly due to poor bike
shorts. Tomorrow I'll wear two pair
to try and buffer the chafing and pressure.
Some others are suffering too; those with good quality bike shorts are
suffering a lot less. It seems the
trick is to get shorts with liners that are thicker to cushion the pressure
points, and stiffer to avoid the creasing and bunching which leads to chafing.
When the legs are driving the pedals at 90 to 100 rpm for five or six
hours, there's a lot of movement to contend with.
The seat has to be narrow to allow the thighs free movement with minimal
chafing, and the shorts are as important, and maybe more so, than the seat
design. These are all things I didn't know well enought before the
trip. If I were planning again,
better shorts are something I'd definitely invest in, rather than those I bought
on sale at the Bike Show in March.
In
letters and email, a few people have asked about diet.
The simple answer is that we eat a lot.
Our diet is pretty simply -- heavy on vegetables and pasta (or potatoes
or rice). These are easy to digest.
Our meat intake is light since meat, red meat especially, is hard to
digest. Recognize that everyone's
different, yet a typical day for me might be something like the following:
a banana when I wake up to get the digestive system moving and get some
quick-digesting food into my system, accompanied by some diluted Gatorade or hot
chocolate or coffee. I'll add to that after packing up my tent and stuff, via the
prepared breakfast around 6:00 to 6:30 a.m. which might be a couple of servings
of porridge with brown sugar, or three slices of french toast, or a stack of
pancakes, with fruit salad or another banana, washed down with juice or coffee.
On the road during the day, we'll stop about every hour to hour and a
half for a break, and have a banana or PBJ or both. Every day I take two PBJs
and three bananas on the road with me. I'll
drink at least 1 oz of diluted Gatorade during the ride for every 1 km traveled,
plus more at breaks, and more in hot weather.
As well, if we're on the road for an excessive distance, we might stop
for a second breakfast around 10:30 or 11:00 a.m., and I'll have eggs, toast,
coffee, hash browns and sometimes some meat, although it's hard to digest and
absorb other stuff around it. On a
really long day, we might stop again later for another lunch or additional
drinks. On arriving at camp, I'll down another drink or two, which
may include beer or pop, and dig into the peanuts and raisins with everyone
else. Later on comes dinner, where
most of us eat about double servings of everything.
Often I'll eat something else at bedtime.
All told, I'm consuming something in the range of 3,000 to 4,000 calories
per day more than my base requirements, and burning all of it!
Riding
Day's high:
Seeing the
sun break through finally, and the wind drop, around supper time.
Riding
Day's low: The
constant chill and challenge of the northerly crosswind.
Daily
Stats (for the riding day):
Weather:
10C for most of
day; up to 20C by suppertime; cloudy with occassional drizzle and rain.
Official
distance: 174 km
Distance actually cycled:
173.2 km
Avg speed on road: 25.5 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
2,260.7 km
Total
riding time to date: 89
hr 03 min
Approximate
pedal revolutions to date:
480,000
PBJs
consumed to date: 35
Bananas consumed to date: 68
...alan
Carlton Trail Regional Park,
Spy Hill, Saskatchewan
Day
22: Spy Hill, Saskatchewan to Minnedosa, Manitoba
July
20, 2000
"More
than any other emotion,
melancholy is incompatible with
bicycling." James Starrs
Being
near the eastern end of the time zone, the sun set early last night at about
8:55 p.m. Even as the sun was
setting, the dew was forming. Overnight,
it was quite cold -- I'd guess about 5C or 6C.
This morning everything was heavy with dew as if it had rained all night.
There's nothing quite like packing up a wet tent and wondering whether or
not you'll have good drying conditions when you set it up again in the
afternoon, or whether you'll sleep in a damp den.
The
sky was bright blue this morning; not a cloud in sight.
This lasted until about noon when popcorn clouds started to float
overhead. The temperature was about
22C by late afternoon, and the wind was very light and variable.
Jules,
Karl and I left camp around 7:20 a.m. and spun along in the cool, fresh morning
air. The 16 km to the Manitoba
border went quickly. Along the way
we stopped to capture a few pictures of typical Saskatchewan roads, just to
remind us how poor they are. (see picture
above of Jules and Karl) I'm sure that the major highways, like the Yellowknife
and TCH are well-maintained, yet our route takes us through the heartland of the
province, and so we're exposed to the less-well-maintained regional road
system. At the
border of Manitoba we meet up with New Craig (must find out his last name; can't
call him "New Craig" for long!) and stop again for pictures (below,
right) as Néri,
Sue and Ron arrive.
As
soon as we're in Manitoba we notice some differences -- the road is in much
better condition, and there are road signs.
Yesterday we'd ridden 20 km before seeing a highway sign that verified we
were on the right route. Now in
Manitoba, every intersection is well marked, even on the secondary roads we're
using.
A
few kilometers into Manitoba we drop down a long descent into the Assiniboine
River valley and then climb a few kilometers to get back out, stopping to
capture the scenic valley by camera along the way. (picture below) We're slowed a bit by a stretch of construction on the climb, and
the gravel is so fresh and soft we actually have to walk about a hundred metres.
Through the town of Binscarth, and we're onto highway 16, an alternate
route of the Trans Canada Highway. While
this route isn't heavily traveled, there is nevertheless more traffic than we've
seen in quite a while, including a few trucks.
The riding is made trickier by the lack of paved shoulders for quite some
distance. Karl, Jules and I ride
single file in a paceline, rotating occasionally, with the back rider calling
out "truck back" or "car back" to warn the others of traffic
approaching from behind. Occasionally,
"car back" and "car front" coincide, and we squeeze right to
give passing traffic as much room as we can.
At
54 km into our day, with 100 km left to go, we enter the village of Foxwarren,
stopping at a roadside station and diner for another quick breakfast.
We're greeted with muffins recently out of the oven and hot coffee.
Just what we needed! As most
often happens, with our funny clothing we attract attention and people are
curious about what we're up to, leading to friendly conversation for a little
while. Energized and refueled, we
hit the road again.
Pretty
soon the highway surface improves considerably, and we benefit from a smoothly
paved shoulder as wide as a lane, and debris-free. This is a treat indeed!
The light and variable wind chooses to quarter us from in front for a
while, and we've got room on the shoulder for the three of us to run an echelon
paceline. The next 100 km to
Minnedosa passes uneventfully. After
a while the light breeze turns to blow from behind, giving us a nice boost.
The three of us are working together well.
We rotate our paceline every two kilometers, giving each of us a two km
workout followed by four km of recovery. We're
working at a steady aerobic pace, rolling along at 32 to 34 km/hr for hour after
hour, broken from time to time with "stand up and stretch" breaks or
"off the bike" breaks for PBJs.
Entering
Minnedosa, we find a nice little town with decent facilities, but alas, no Dairy
Queen! Oh
well! Stopping at the visitors' centre, a
converted caboose as so many of them are, we find it closed, also as so many of
them are. So, on to the campground to find
a beautiful and large recreational reservoir (more than big enough for boating)
and a well-equipped campground.
One
of the toys I'd purchased and brought along on the trip is a Garmin eTrex GPS
unit. It's useful for it's compass,
trip logging capabilities, and altimeter. In
the mountains, I was able to log the elevation of our big climbs, and judge
grades pretty accurately. As we've
been rolling along, I've also been noting the latitude and longitude displays.
We got as far north as 51º 30', and when we started in Vancouver we were
at about 123ºW longitude. Over the
past few days while our route has been almost due east, I've been able to watch
the fractional minutes of longitude ticking down steady.
Today we crossed 100ºW. We've
come about 20º east already, and another about 20º will take us to Toronto's
longitude.
When
I bought the GPS, my research and purchase was done over the web from Art Dalton
who runs Prairie Geomatics, and who happens to be located in Minnedosa.
Art can provide lots of information and examples of how precision farming
is really an information-intensive industry today, with a lot of the information
dependent on satellite imagery and GPS locating. 
In chatting with Art on the phone earlier, I'd said I'd look him up in
Minnedosa. I'm sitting working on this journal at our group campsite, and along
walks Art and asks for me. As big
as Canada is, events like this sure make it seem small! It turns out that he's building a new house adjacent to
the campground, and is staying in the campground during the construction phase.
We chat for a while about his business, the surrounding area, his bike
trip from San Diego to the Gulf Coast, and the TDC trip and logistics.
As well, he has a new toy to show me!
An updated model of the eTrex GPS with an electronic compass useful when
moving slowly (as in orienteering or cross country skiing or kayaking) when GPS
tracking doesn't provide enough distance separation between updates for the
compass to be accurate. It's also
got a barometric altimeter to cross-reference the GPS altimeter for better
accuracy, and adds functions to record individual and total ascent/descent, and
3-D route logging. (click on picture to
visit Art's website) Art offers me a
trade-up, giving me full value for the unit I bought a few months ago, which
he'll put into his rental pool. I
can't resist this, and agree to the offer.
Karl's impressed too, also liking toys like this, and orders one to be delivered
to our next mail drop in Manitoulin Island. Toys like this are
superfluous to the trip, yet they add a dimension that informs and enriches the
experience somehow. As well, this
is totally cool!
By
the time we're finished talking, it's close to 10:00 p.m., past my bedtime, and
I still have this journal to write.
Tomorrow
we're off to Portage La Prairie. Interestingly, all of the French place names
around here have pronunciations anglicized, even by the French.
So Portage is pronounced "por-tiij" (like
"porridge"), and the city is simply called "Portage".
It's a 148 km ride over basically flat prairie, with one slight ridgeline
decline down to "first stage prairie" which extends all the way to the
edge of the Canadian Shield still far to our east.
At
10:45 p.m. on day 22, with 44 days left to go in this cross-Canada journey.
Can't keep my eyes open any longer. Signing off.
Day's
high: Definitely
the weather, and leaving Saskatchewan's highways behind.
Day's
low: There was no
low point today.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
Very cold last
light (around 6C?), about 22C by end of afternoon.
Clear blue sky until about noon, popcorn sky for most of the afternoon.
Winds non-existent or very light and variable.
Official
distance: 154 km
Distance actually cycled:
158.2 km
Avg speed on road: 28.9 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
2,418.9 km
Total
riding time to date: 94
hr 33 min
PBJs
consumed to date: 37
Bananas consumed to date: 70
...alan
Minedosa Campground,
Minedosa, Manitoba
Day
23: Minnedosa to Portage La Prairie, Manitoba
July
21, 2000
"Dream
what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to
be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you
want to do." anonymous. Sent
via email by Iwona,
a friend at work.
TDC
2000 has claimed the first person in our group to take a bye on a day's ride.
One of our group has diabetes, controlled by careful diet.
The long rides of the last few days have left her drained and, coupled
with the difficulty in maintaining the dietary regimen she needs, she's had to
forego riding for a couple of days. It's
interesting seeing people's reaction to this event; not everyone knows how to
deal with the reality of having to miss part of the ride.
I know I've thought a few times, on particularly bad days, about tossing
my bike off the side of the road and calling it quits.
We are a unique group in that we've all got the drive and attitude that
got us here in the first place, and got us 2,500 km through the mountains and
over the Prairies, in all kinds of weather.
There will be some point for several of us where taking a ride in the
truck will be the smart thing to do, whether due to injury or illness.
How will we decide? Will we
be smart, and ride the truck, leaving us able to bike another day?
Or will "fear of failure" lead us to carry on biking, perhaps
leading to further problems? When
faced with such a decision, emotion often rules, and it's easy to forget what
we've already accomplished. It's
somehow part of the human psyche to bemoan our shortcomings, disabilities,
mistakes and failures, instead of celebrating what we can do, and taking pride
in what we've already accomplished. For
my friend who's riding in the truck today, I have nothing but respect and
admiration. Most in her situation
would not dare to dream big; their life would not be as complete, they would
never know the sense of accomplishment of cycling through the mountains, they
would never know the thrill of a big mountain descent, of cresting Kicking Horse
Pass. They would never test
themselves to know what they really can accomplish, instead assuming the task
can't be done. Like today's quote
says, we have only one life and one chance to do all the things we want to do.
If we dare to dream big, we may achieve something special; in the process
we will test, and undoubtedly find, our personal limits.
There is no shame in finding one's limits; rather there is great pride in
the journey to the edge. And, if you don't push at the envelope of your life,
you can't find the edges. I
celebrate my friend's accomplishments, and I know she'll be riding again soon.
Last
night was cold again -- down to about 6C. And again the heavy dew that's just
like rain, leaving everything dripping and cold in the morning.
To add to the chill, the sun rises an hour later than we've been used to.
Yet the sky is a clear blue, with a
thick ground fog blanketing the lake. An
eerie sight is a radio tower sparkling in the sunlight on high, disappearing
into the fog lower down.
Craig
M (a.k.a. "New Craig"), Jules and I leave camp about about 7:20 a.m.
Already the sun has burned some of the chill from the air, leaving it
feeling cool and refreshing as we warm up spinning easily out of Minnedosa
towards the highway.
Today's
route takes us due east from Minnedosa to our first stop at Neepawa 33 km down
the road. Cycling in the fresh
morning air is invigorating; once warmed up we're spinning along at 33 to 35
km/hr, getting to Neepawa in just over an hour.
We take a side trip in Neepawa to see the former home of celebrated
Canadian author Margaret Laurence, whose stories of human dignity, hardship and
joy of life on the Prairies were based on her life in Neepawa.
We also detour to the local cemetery to see the "Stone Angel"
feature in one of her novels.
On
the way back through town to the highway, Jules' picks up the scent of bakery.
His olfactory compass leads us to the baker's shop where we enjoy warm
cinnamon swirls recently rescued from the oven.
Now we're really ready to roll!
Back
on the highway, we form a three-bicycle paceline, put our heads down, and spin
east, due east, ever east. Between
Neepawa and Arden we cross the Arden Ridge, a very shallow ridgeline which marks
the transition from the "second level" prairie we've been on, to the
"first level" prairie. This
land is like a pancake: dead flat in all directions. The highway runs due east in a dead straight line with
absolutely no detectable rise or fall for another 40 km before we encounter a
bend. There's only one way to deal
with this spectacular scenery, and that's to put one's head down and push to get
through it as quickly as possible.
Spinning
down the highway at 35 km/hr, we pass John and Karin stopped at a roadside gas
station. Several kilometers down
the road they catch up with us when we stop for a banana break.
They'd been pushing hard at 38 km/hr, and slowly, very slowly, gaining on us.
John's huffing and puffing, which is unusual in itself -- we must have been
moving! In John's draft comes Karin, not a tall woman, legs a blur as she
spins furiously to match John's speed, yet a big grin showing that this is the
way to enjoy the ride.
The
five of us, Craig M, Jules, Karin, John and I, form a five-bicycle paceline,
agree to a 32 - 33 km/hr pace, and rotation every 2 km.
That means that each of us has to pull only 2 km out of every 10.
Riding this way, the distance rolls by quickly, even with the occasional
PBJ and banana break. After heading
southeast for a while, we pick up Hwy 1, the Trans Canada Highway, after about
120 km, and stop at a service centre for a break.
Back on the TCH, we find it's four lanes, no shoulders at all, and
thankfully very light and accepting traffic.
With a gentle tailwind, the 10 km to our turnoff into Portage passes
quickly and uneventfully.
This paceline riding is great for making the kilometers fall by quickly, yet it's not my favourite way to ride. I must admit that I much prefer riding with one or two others in a loose formation, or by myself. A paceline takes a lot of focus -- staying close to the wheel in front, especially when the fourth or fifth bike in line with the elasticity of the group's overall spacing and speed fluctuations, is not easy. If one watches the wheel in front, one can become mesmerized and unresponsive, the usual cause of brushing the wheel in front and going down. The trick is to watch the road past the upper bodies of those in front, and use peripheral vision and depth perception to constantly judge and adjust. When riding this way, it's pretty tough to daydream or watch the scenery. And, I'd rather watch the scenery than the bums in front of me.
Now
in town, we're searching for a Co-op so I can get some bum balm, a coffee house
for cappuccino for John and Karin, a bike shop for sundry parts, and the most
important of all before camp, a Dairy Queen. We'd been told that Mike's Bikes
was the bike shop to visit -- indeed the only one. After riding in circles for a while, we finally find it.
Mike likes to tinker with bikes, and has a little shop in an old garage
in his back yard that shows clear signs of providing great service to the neighbourhood kids.
However, spandex for guys with shaved legs isn't something Mike stocks.
We move on.
Back
downtown to the Dairy Queen we go, arriving just as Dave, Kiwi Craig, Tacia,
Carol and Eric do. We all go inside
for congratulatory servings of DQ's best. Then
it's on to camp, chores, dinner, chores, phone calls home, chores, journals,
chores and bed. Some have energy to
walk back into town to see a movie; some of us simply want to crash at dusk.
Tomorrow
we continue our eastward trek, through Winnipeg to Beausejour.
After Beausejour we'll leave the Prairie and see the first outcroppings
of Canadian Shield, a favourite part of the country for me.
It will be as beautiful as it is difficult.
In our struggles through the mountains we built strength; in crossing the
Prairies we built endurance; now it's time to put them together to tackle the
hills of the Canadian Shield. And
on that note, I need some sleep; goodnight!
Day's
high: Spinning
through the clear fresh morning air at 35 km/hr, seemingly without effort.
Day's
low: The two
hundred meter walk from our camping area to the washrooms.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
Under a summer
high pressure area, the day is bright and warm, about 23C in the afternoon.
Official
distance: 138 km
Distance actually cycled:
145.2 km
Avg speed on road: 30.2 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
2,564.2 km
Total
riding time to date: 99
hr 21 min
PBJs
consumed to date: 39
Bananas consumed to date: 73
...alan
Island Lake Fairground
Portage La Prairie, Manitoba
Day
24: Portage La Prairie to Beausejour, Manitoba
July
22, 2000
"Nothing
gives so much pleasure as a simple bike ride." John F Kennedy
Once
again the day dawned warm and bright under a summer high.
Jules, Karin, John, Karl and I set out together, intending to take a
route directly through Winnipeg in order to find a bicycle store for repairs for
Jules, and miscellaneous stuff the rest of us need.
In
the fresh morning air we leave the campsite and head for Tim's for washrooms and
a chance for donuts and coffee. That
done, we're on the road and heading due east over the flattest land I've ever
seen. The kilometers spin by on the
road beneath our five-person double paceline, and we only stop very briefly a
couple of times before hitting the Trans Canada Highway into Winnipeg.
I take advantage of one spell "in the caboose" at the end of
the paceline to get my camera out and take a picture. Then, zipping ahead a
little, I take a picture on the fly of the group riding along.
The
TCH takes us straight into Winnipeg, becoming Portage Ave.
After a while we find Olympia Cycles, the bike store we're looking for,
and troop in to get what we need. Missing
a couple of things we head off to Gordo's Bike Shop and find what we need there.
It's close to lunch time now, and we head over to The Forks - a region of
Winnipeg's downtown crowded with eateries.
The Forks is located at the junction of the Red and Assiniboine Rivers,
and is set up with lots of outdoor cafes, walkways, and lots of people stuff.
Very nice.
As
we're eating lunch at Brannigan's, I realize I haven't drunk enough for the 90
km we've done so far today, nor will the one banana I've eaten fuel me for the
afternoon. Lunch is a couple of
ginger ales, lots of water, and a chicken club sandwich. Still, I know that this isn't going to be in my bloodstream
fast enough to help. We'll have to
see what happens.
Soon
we're on our way north out of Winnipeg, and none too soon for me.
It was cool to ride through the intersection of Portage and Main and see
the development that's occurred in the years since I was last here. Yet
I've been on the bike long enough already today to be tired and sore, and the
riding through the city is not relaxing for me with all the traffic and the
stop'n'go of all the lights. There's a tradeoff between spending time exploring the city,
and getting back on the road to camp. While
the former would be nice, the latter is necessary.
We're
soon out of the city and rolling north before turning east towards Beausejour.
By now I'm starting to drag and I can feel the dreaded bonk coming on; my
available glycogen is just about depleted.
With 40 km to go, I know I'm in trouble. The group is rolling along
really well with a slight tailwind. We're
spinning at 32 to 34 km/hr. This is
getting a tad too fast for me. I lose the paceline a few times and struggle to
catch up and get plugged back in. Finally
it happens -- I lose the paceline draft again and can't recover it; I'm dropped.
The group slows a couple of times to pick me up again, yet this clearly
isn't going to be my day for a strong finish.
I need to slow down to about 29 or 30 km/hr at the most and spin quickly in a lower
gear, digging deep into endurance mode. Karl
drops back to cycle with me, a consideration I appreciate very much.
I'm not very talkative now, just looking straight ahead, legs spinning
numbly, mind completely blank, oblivious to everything but the pavement in front
of me, my sore butt, and the dead feeling in my legs.
The distance rolls by slowly but surely. We reach the town of Beausejour and roll in, meeting up with
a number of other riders stopped chatting with some locals.
They point us to a DQ-type place across the road as having good ice
cream. They're right.
A blueberry sundae, a V8 juice and a rest for 20 minutes leave me feeling
a bit better, but still dragging.
Fortunately
the camp is only about 3 km down the road, and off we go to find it.
Entering camp, we find a number of others already there, setting up tents
in a hot, sunny field. An
unexpected bonus is a very clean and swimmable river running through camp.
Kelly and I head off for a swim. The
river is refreshingly cool, and the current allows us to swim in place. Then
it's off for a shower and to finish setting up my tent and getting things ready
for tomorrow before having dinner.
We
are firmly in mosquito country here. They
aren't particularly big specimens, but they are definitely hungry.
I don't complain at their desire to feed and procreate, but I do begrudge
them every drop of blood they take -- I need it for tomorrow's ride!
Later on, closing up my tent, I'll spend about 10 minutes swatting mosquitoes. This doesn't leave my tent walls looking very
pretty, but it does guarantee me a good sleep.
It's a good thing mosquitoes aren't an endangered species at the rate we
kill them this evening. It'd be
just like some urban lobbyist to mount a campaign to get them designated though! To anyone thinking this'd be a cool thing to do, I wish you a
half-naked walk for 10 minutes to the washroom in the middle of the night -- let
it be your blood that enriches the mosquito gene pool.
The
back wheel on my bike is wobbling again. I'd
adjusted and tightened the cones on the hub only a few hundred kilometers ago,
and they shouldn't be coming loose so easily.
This is a tad worrisome, if only because it puts the bearings at risk of
premature wear or "ovalling". I
take it apart and adjust and tighten it again.
The mechanic at Olympia Cycle advised that the retaining ring on the
drive side of the wheel might be loose, in which case repeatedly adjusting from
the other side won't last. This
might be my problem. Looks like
I'll be overhauling my back hub on rest day after tomorrow.
But, that's tomorrow. Tonight,
I've eaten tons of food to recharge, and now I need some sleep.
Goodnight!
Day's
high: Getting
a letter from my sister and her family.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
PBJs
consumed to date: 41
Bananas consumed to date: 76
...alan
Brokenhead
Campground,
Beausejour,
Manitoba
Day
25: Beausejour, Manitoba to Kenora, Ontario
July
23, 2000
"Cycling
as little as three miles per day will improve your sex life." Some Italian
doctor who's clearly never spent 10 or 11 hours sitting on a bicycle seat.
Today
we exit the Prairies and Manitoba, bound for the Canadian Shield of Northern Ontario!
Yesterday
I bonked; today I feel much better, although I can tell my legs haven't
recovered, and will be very glad of the rest day to come.
It's
going to be hot today; at dawn it's 15C under a clear sky with just a hit of
weather far, far to the west. I can
tell we're all feeling tired -- people are sleeping and waking later.
Instead of being up between 5 and 5:30 a.m. it's more like 6 to 6:30 a.m.
Jules
and I hit the road about 7:15 a.m., getting straight out on the higway and
pointing our trusty steeds due east. Jules
is feeling a little draggy this morning, and I'm energized yet my legs are still
feeling like lead from yesterday's bonk. I've
never ridden the day after bonking before, so this will be sure to be an
experience.
Our
route today takes us east and then southeast from Beausejour, and a flaky south
wind appears now and then to bother us. Still,
we're rolling along okay at 27 to 29 km/hr.
A number of others left camp before us this morning, which is unusual for
us. Over the next hour we catch and
pass a few, and then catch up to and ride with Sue for a while. We
also catch up to Robert who tags along with us, making pacelines easier when we
need one to counter the wind. Traffic is very
light to non-existent, and life feels good.
Of
special note, I'm wearing some new bike shorts that seem to work very well for
me. I think I could write a book on
bike shorts and care of biker's bum by now.
Through lots of advice from cyclists much more seasoned than I, I've come
to appreciate the subtle benefits of "Bag Balm", also known as
"Udder Balm". Sold in the
animal care section of hardware stores or Co-op stores out west, this is a
lanolin and petroleum jelly mixture, with a little antibiotic and
who-knows-what-else thrown in, that's intended for use on chapped and sore
udders (yes, cows). Apparently
cyclists in the know have been using it for some time to prevent chaffing, to
provide a little lubrication, and to promote healing and prevention of saddle
sores. I've also learned that with
bike shorts, like many other things in life, one gets what one pays for
generally. My lightweight and
inexpensive shorts have been a constant source of irritation.
In Winnipeg I bought two different pairs (for different pressure points)
of very good shorts, selected with the help of my TDC friends. Today I'm enjoying the benefit.
While the day will turn out to be a very tough ride, a sore butt will not
be an issue for the first time in about 23 days on this trip!
I
can't quite say the same for Barbarella (my bike has a name now).
She's starting to complain at the abuse she received on the gravel and
pothole-filled roads over the last few days.
The back wheel refuses to stay tight, and is already developing a wobble
(emanating from the hub -- the wheel is still running true fortunately).
Even worse, when coasting at slow speed, I can feel grating from the hub
transmitted through the frame. Not good at all!
At
53.6 km east of Beausejour, the landscape abruptly changes. First we detect, and
my GPS/altimeter confirms, that we've been slowly gaining altitude.
Then, there it is, the first outcropping of pink granite!
(picture, right) We've hit the edge of the Canadian Shield!
Goodbye Prairies!
Continuing
to travel east, we enter the town of Rennie and stop for refreshments.
I've been eating and drinking lots.
I don't want to bonk again, and staying well hydrated will be crucial on
this hot day. Beyond Rennie, we
enter and ride through Whiteshell Provincial Park.
This is a popular vacation destination in Manitoba for deer flies.
They gather by the thousands every summer to ride alongside TDC cyclists.
I never knew that a deer fly could fly backwards at about 30 km/hr and
appear to hold stationary in front of my face!
We're in a three-bike paceline. The
front rider has an artificial wind that keeps the deer flies away. Behind him the other two riders, along with a couple of
hundred deer flies, follow in the slipstream.
We can't stop or we'll be eaten alive.
Even while riding, I'm bitten a few times. At one point I make the mistake of opening my mouth, only to
end up crunching on a fly! For
those who are curious, they're bitter, they fight to get out, and they don't
broadcast a cautionary warning to their brethren. While riding through this
stretch later, Dave will get a bee trapped in his helmet and sunglasses, and be
stung near his eye. If you're a
flying insect, Whiteshell is where all your friends and relatives are gathering!
The
further we travel through Whiteshell, the more the scenery looks like Ontario as
far south as Gravenhurst and Bracebridge -- big outcroppings of 42. billion-year
old pre-Cambrian rocks: pink granites, black gneisses speckled with quartz,
seams of quartz, and glacial errants dropped everywhere.
On
the eastern fringe of Whiteshell, we stop at West Hawk Lake for some more
refreshments and to eat some lunch. Then
back on the road, we soon join up with the Trans-Canada Highway just west of
the Ontario border. The TCH has
wide paved shoulders, which we appreciate, and the terrain is very hilly, which
I don't appreciate.
Jules
has found some source of energy that I haven't. He's charging up all the hills like a Tour de France rider.
While I've got energy reserves, my legs are dead from yesterday still,
and I die on all the hills, struggling a pedal stroke at a time on most.
It's sweltering hot on the pavement, my quads are burning, and my shorts
and jersey look like a science fair project, all covered with white salt crystals
from evaporated perspiration.
There
it is! The Ontario border!
We stop at the Manitoba Visitor Centre before leaving, to sign the
cyclists' logbook and score a Manitoba pin, then stop for pictures at the border
sign, then stop at the Ontario Visitor Centre for updated maps and info on
Kenora.
By
now I'm dragging and we've still got 50 km to go -- about 2 hours at the pace
I'm comfortable with. We're
starting to pass lots of lakes, each one inviting me to go for a swim.
I think if I get off the bike though I simply won't get back on.
I churn up each hill to the mantra of "Dairy Queen, Dairy Queen,
Dairy Queen". In total today
we'll climb about 990 meters, equivalent to some days in B.C. yet in much hotter
weather. The hills of Northern
Ontario are here!
Barbarella
continues to complain: by now I can feel the hub grating with each pedal stroke
on hills. The wheel has an
unbalanced wobbly feeling, and my rear derailleur isn't shifting smoothly on the
index points. This isn't a good
sign at all. I ask her to please
hang in there until we get to Kenora. There's
a bike store that will hopefully be open, and I'll get her checked out.
Before
long we're a short distance to the hwy 17A turnoff to go through Kenora.
Jules and Robert are feeling pretty good.
Jules continues to burn up the hills like no tomorrow.
Must be the Festina shorts he's wearing today!
Seems to me each time he wears them he rides with more energy.
Gotta get some!
While
I'm feeling pretty dragged out, I've got lots of liquid still, there's lots of
traffic to hitch a ride from if I need, and I tell Jules to drive on ahead and
enjoy the ride. It's only two more
hills before he's over the horizon and gone.
Turning
into Kenora, I'm really struggling now, and Barbarella is struggling along with
me. I spot the most important
destination of all -- the Dairy Queen. I
pull in to find Jules and Robert just ordering.
Getting off my bike, I stagger shakily to the counter - I'm a truly
bedraggled and sorry site indeed - and order a blueberry chocolate blizzard and
a large cup of water. The water
tastes like Shield lake water, which is fine; it's refreshing.
The blizzard is a real delight. It
disappears so quickly I've got an ice-cream headache and I'm loving it!
Back
on the bikes, we roll down the road into downtown Kenora.
It's about 3:15 pm, Olympia Ski and Cycle is right where it's supposed to
be, it's open (today is Sunday I think), and there's a young bike mechanic
inside who understands Barbarella's problem.
Together we extract the cogset, pull out the axle and bearings, and find
that the axle is bent. The guy doesn't see many road bikes, selling and working
mostly on mountain bikes around here. He's
seen lots of bent and even broken axles on mountain bikes, but not on a road
bike. Not to worry -- he knows what
he's doing, puts in a new axle, cleans and greases the bearings, tightens up the
cones, and re-assembles the hub. He
aligns the left-right freewheel bearing placement by eye, and when we put the
wheel back on, the cogset and chain clearance is perfect!
It's now 4:30 p.m., half an hour after the store was supposed to be
closed. For all this, he charges me
only $13.75 plus tax -- the cost of the axle.
If you're ever in Kenora and need some bike repairs, check out Olympia
Ski and Cycle on the main street -- they are good!
While
I'm in the bike store, Robert and Jules continued on to camp.
Jules, Karin, Craig M and I are on galley duty tonight, and Jules rode on
ahead to help get dinner started. I'm
happy with a DQ in my belly, Barbarella's happy with a new axle, which makes me
even happier, and even my dead legs can't defuse the feeling.
A
few minutes later I roll into camp, stumble off my bike, wash my hands, and dig
in to help make dinner. Tonight we're serving chili (both meat and vegetarian)
with long-grained rice and a Greek salad. Meals are working out pretty well in
our crew. Jules is the master chef;
he simply tells us what to do. Jules
can look at a recipe, translate the proportions to feed 24 people, and then
further translate into "four bunches of onions" and the like.
He can take a big container of spice, pour just the right amount into the
big vat, and it turns out great.
While making dinner, the clouds roll in and we get the first of a couple of passing thunderstorms. They do break though long enough for us to eat. After the main course, a birthday cake, complete with candles, is brought out to a refrain of "Happy Birthday" for Neri (picture left).
Tomorrow is actually Neri's birthday, yet we're celebrating
it today because not everyone's around for dinner on the rest day.
Neri is now 70, and he's just finished cycling 2,900 km from Vancouver to
Kenora. Truly outstanding!
Tomorrow's
rest day is more needed than I thought. In
talking with others, there are about six of us who bonked yesterday or today, or
came very close to bonking. We've
ridden 811 km in five days, a fair amount of it over rough roads, in heat, and
mind-numbing long flat stretches of Prairie roads.
We have earned this rest day.
We're
at the Anicinabe Park campground in Kenora, right on an arm of Lake of the
Woods. It's about 10:30 p.m. right
now, and I can hear loons crying on the lake.
Earlier I sat on the dock and watched the setting sun throw highlights on
the towering thunderheads to the south and west. This is my Ontario! We've
cycled 2,900 km from Vancouver to get to Kenora, and it'll take us nearly three
weeks to travel to Thunder Bay, around Lake Superior, down through the Bruce
Pennisula and across southern Ontario to Toronto, on to Ottawa, and then to
Montreal. That's nearly as much
time to cross Ontario as we've spent on the road from Vancouver to Ontario!
What a trip! What a life! Goodnight.
Day's
high: Entering Ontario. Getting
Barbarella fixed with a new rear axle.
Day's
low: The squadrons of deer flies in Whiteshell Provincial Park.
The dead'n'dragged out post-bonk-day feeling.
Daily
Stats:
Official
distance: 168 km Distance actually
cycled: 172.8 km
Avg speed on road: 26.2 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date: 2,899 km
Total
riding time to date: 111 hr 57 min
PBJs
consumed to date: 43 Bananas
consumed to date: 81
...alan
Anicinabe
Park
Kenora,
Ontario
Day
26: Rest Day in Kenora
July
24, 2000
Last
night it stormed and rained and stormed and rained and then rained some more
until about 7:00 a.m. this morning. I
finally got up around 7:30 a.m. in time to gather my stuff and head over for
laundry when the camp facilities opened at 8:00 a.m. We actually had a line up outside the door to get our laundry
cooking.
While
it was cooking I roamed around the Anicinabe Camp and took a couple of early
morning beach pictures. (see picture above) It's amazing how Lake of the Woods looks just like
Muskoka or the Algonquin Highlands. Before
the storm last night, and early this morning after it finished, we were even
serenaded by loons on the lake.
After
laundry, returning to camp, I found Isabelle being interviewed on camera by
someone from the local TV station. Isabelle
is a randonneur and is cycling with artificial knees, thanks to an earlier fight
with osteoarthritis.
She's a great supporter of the Canadian Arthritis Society, and is using
this trip to raise awareness and donations for arthritis research and programmes.
Several times so far this trip she's been on TV, radio and in the local
papers. As they finish their
interview, I'm just cooking up some eggs and toast, and they film a bit of
"camp life filler" of me frying eggs in a very well used pan.
I'm a star, at last!
Once
breakfast is out of the way, Karin, John, Jules and I walk into downtown Kenora,
about a 15 minute easy walk, up and down hills all the way.
This is one hilly town! We
look around some, buy some postcards, visit the bike shop (where Barbarella was
fixed yesterday), and then head off to a German pub for lunch.
In
the afternoon, we split up and Jules and I head for the waterfront, signing up
for a two hour afternoon cruise on the MS Kenora. We figure this will force us to relax for a while, and let us
see some of the lake. Passing time
while waiting for boarding time, we walk around the waterfront to see
"Husky the Muskie". (picture left)
This
is a very garish 40 ft tall statue of a muskelunge with mouth open, eyes glaring
and teeth flashing. Sort of like
the dinosaur statue in Drumheller, it's a triumph of trashy over classy, but I
guess it helps to catch tourists. Sure enough, this is proven by the bus
that pulls up and disgorges several dozen gawking, camera-toting and happy
looking visitors.
The
cruise is definitely relaxing. We're out on the water for two hours, and learn
lots about the lake area, the town, and the wildlife. Kenora is actually the second name of the town.
It was originally called Rat
Portage, but changed when certain eating establishments refused to locate here
unless the name was changed. Kenora
is actually an amalgam of Keewatin, the district, Norman, some guy, and RA from
rat. Originally a pulp and paper town, the main industry now
appears to be tourism. At one time,
a significant proportion of gold mined in Ontario was extracted at Sultana
Island just a few kilometers down the lake.
Lake
of the Woods is the second largest lake in Ontario, and actually sits in
Ontario, Minnesota and Manitoba. There
are over 14,600 surveyed islands in the lake, the shoreline is approximately
67,500 miles long, and the average depth is only 35 feet, with the deepest point
being about 200 ft. It drains into
the Winnipeg River which flows north to Lake Winnipeg, which then drains
northward into Hudson's Bay. This is kind
of surprising when you look at a map -- you'd assume it drains into Lake
Superior. The
area is heavily wooded, and once away from the town itself, the habitation is
very sparse. The landscape is just
like the Georgian Bay 30,000 Islands -- tortured pines, lots of rock, lots of little bays, inlets and
points.
Along
the cruise we see lots of gulls, pelicans, commorants, and two bald eagle nests,
with an eagle sitting in one. Totally
cool! That's the second eagle
sighting we've had on this trip, the most spectacular being just north of Douglas
Lake in the BC interior south of Kamloops.
After
the cruise, Jules and I visit Haps, a waterfront eatery, for dinner, and run
into Sue and Ron, and later Brook, Craig M and Jon.
We're meeting John and Karin at the movie theatre to see
"The Perfect Storm". The movie is
awesome. It's based on the book by
the same name, and is a reasonable account of actual occurrences in 1991 in which
three storm systems collided off the Grand Banks to produce one of the fiercest
storms ever. The story is about
those who fish the banks for swordfish, and their demise in the storm.
Having been at sea, this is pretty scary stuff.
Finally,
at the end of the day, we walk back to camp where we scramble in the fading
light to get things ready for riding tomorrow morning.
Craig, Jules, Karin and I are on breakfast duty tomorrow, so we'll be up
early. It's 10 p.m. as I finish
this entry, and the sky is flashing and rumbling as another storm moves in.
Better now than tomorrow during the day!
...alan
Anicinabe
Park
Kenora,
Ontario
Day
27: Kenora to Caliper Lake Provincial Park, Ontario
July
25, 2000
"I'll
never do that again!" Jules
"Hincapie" Meunier, TDC2000
We
were entertained last night by great banging thunderstorms, accompanied by heavy
showers. The wind blew the tarp off
the back of the truck, but left tents unscathed. The morning, in contrast, dawned calm and warm.
Karin,
Craig M, Jules and I were up at 5 a.m. to get our own stuff packed away and to
make breakfast for the troops. The
breakfast feast consisted of porridge and "one eyed Egyptians" (a.k.a.
"toad in hole") of which we made about 60 to 70.
Once
all the breakfasts things we're cleared away and the truck mostly packed up
(leaving Brook to finish the job), Jules and I hit the road at 7:30 a.m.
The day was warm, very humid and overcast to start.
The mosquitoes were enormously hungry this morning so it was good to be
on the road again. Our route took
us back to hwy 17, 20 km east, and then south on hwy 71.
Highway 71 is a nice surprise as it's recently repaved, with good
shoulders almost all the way to our destination.
The
scenery we pass through is beautiful. The
highway is lined with small lakes and occasionally inlets off Lake of the Woods
itself. The pre-Cambrian rock of
the Canadian Shield is evident everywhere. As well, a new custom lends a personal touch to the roadway.
Al along hwy 17 two days ago, and along 71 today, there are lots of small
Inukshuks constructed atop the granite bordering the highways.
Stone figurines built to resemble humans, Inukshuks (an Inuit word
meaning "In the image of man") were originally built as landmarks to
aid in navigatin and to assist in Caribou hunting. The Inukshuk has been
adopted as a symbol to remind us of our dependence on each other and the value
of strong relationships. This is particularly appropriate for our nomadic tribe
of cyclists. Cycling along highways under the watchful care of Inukshuks
is a uniquely Canadian experience
At
the junction of 17 and 71, several people earlier spotted a moose beside the
road, but she's gone by the time we pass. Not
too far down the highway we catch up with Tacia taking a picture of a frog
roadkill stuck to her tire, with Big Bruce helping. Surely some twisted prank is
in the making here! Then,
cycling along minding my own business, a bee flys into my helmet vents and gets
lodged inside. I lift the helmet to
let it fly off, but it's too big. In the ensuing struggle, I'm stung on my forehead, through my
bandana. Stopping, I take off my
helmet, and off flies a half-kilogram bumblebee. Now I've got a welt on my forehead to match the fly and
mosquito bites all over my arms and legs. I guess this is what is meant by
a "balanced diet".
Picking
up the pace again, Jules continues to be amazed that he can climb hills so well.
The road is one series of rolling hills and bends.
Every time we come to a downhill, I'll pull ahead of Jules until we hit
the uphill, during which Jules powers on ahead of me.
This boy is much stronger on hills than I've seen before.
Like George Hincapie, the Tour de France hill-climbing champion, he deserves the "hill climbing" jersey.
We soon catch Karl and Robert along the side of the highway.
Karl's back tire ran over something nasty and it's got a big tear in it. He's patched it and put a boot in, but wants to wait for the
truck to pass so he can get a spare tire from it, thinking the roadside repair
isn't going to hold. I offer him my spare and Jules, Karl and I ride on together.
Robert chooses to ride his own pace, as he often does, and comes along
behind, passing us when we take our next rest stop.
Around
10:00 a.m. we stop beside the highway for a food break, and Karin and John catch
up to us. We all start out riding
together, but Jules, John and Karl feel like riding hard and hammering the hills
-- playing "silly bugger" as Karin so aptly calls the behaviour.
Karin and I decide to poke along at our own pace together, letting the
"young boys" go and play. They
disappear out of site around the next bend and over the next hill pretty
quickly, clearly enjoying the day, the terrain, the challenge, and the speed
games they're playing.
The
highway is in great shape, and we motor along to Souix Narrows at our 75 km
mark, where we stop for lunch, join, and are joined by, lots of other members of
our TDC group. It's starting to get
hot outside, so we tank up with ice water too, and refill our Camelbaks with ice
water and cubes as well. Back on
the road, we've only got about 40 km left to go; Jules, Karl and John motor on
ahead while Karin and I take a more relaxed pace. Even with the relaxed pace, I end up averaging 27.8 km/hr
over 128 km -- "the boys" average just over 30 km/hr for the day.
At
our last rest stop along the road, we pull in to find the boys already sitting
there drinking juice. They've all
been working the hills really hard; they're obviously bushed, but sporting big
grins nevertheless. This is one
great cycling day! Jules is feeling
the wear of keeping the pace with John and Karl.
He utters his famous, "I'll never do that again!" quote. Yet he does, time
and again, and we tease him mercilessly each time.
Hitting
the road again, we soon find the entrance to Caliper Lake Provincial Park, and
then the campsite. This is brown
bear country, so we're on "bear protocol" again. That means no food or scented women in our tents tonight!
Ontario
Provincial Parks really are nice places. This
one is typical -- the facilities are decent, the layout is good, and the beach
and swimming are excellent. The
water is about 23C -- just right for a refreshing swim to wash the road grime
away. About half a dozen of us go
to the beach for a while, swim, and use the grassy area behind the beach to go
through a stretching routine to ease sore legs. Before dinner, Jules claims
fatigue from pushing so hard all day, and says, "I'll never do that
again!" once again. I've heard this
several times now...
The
dinner crew tonight prepares macaroni and cheese with tuna, with a great tossed
salad to go with it. I eat two
heaping plates full, a big bowl of salad, and wash it all down with a few beers to help it all
digest well. Sitting down to read
after dinner, I find myself falling asleep, and it's only 7:00 p.m.
Time to retire to my tent to write this journal entry, and then crash.
Today
was a good day. One of those days
when you just can't help but smile and whoop as you spin madly down one hill, around a bend,
and up the next. It's even
better when the traffic is almost nil. My only low point is the admission that I
just don't have the leg strength to power over the rolling hills the way I used
to. I guess all those years
hobbling around on a cane can't be totally regained after all.
Oh well! Overall, I'd still
rate the day a "grinnin' day". It
sure is nice to be on decent roads again, and to have roads with hills and
bends. Our total climbing today was
1200m, which compares to some days in BC.
Our
team member with diabetes is back on the road again! She's taking it easy, not doing the total distance today.
But she is cycling! The next challenge for her is find the right
balance of diet and distance each day, and then the biggest challenge of all: to
accept and rejoice what she can accomplish.
Tomorrow we cycle to Taylor Cove, about 145 km away. After that we spend a night at Quetico Provincial Park, then our last day before another rest day is 175 km from Quetico to Thunder Bay. That will be a long grind. I'm going to take it easy for the next few days. The grind eastward from Thunder Bay will be tough with bigger hills and lots of heavy traffic.
Day's
high: Just
a grinnin' day!
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
...alan
Caliper
Lake Provincial Park, Ontario
Day
28: Caliper Lake Provincial Park to Taylor Cove, Ontario
July
26, 2000
"Perseverance
is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already
did." Newt Gingrich
This
morning Jules and I left at 6:50 a.m. to get ahead of the heat, wind and
traffic. The morning
breakfast crew was doing a great job.
Even though breakfast time
is 6:30 to 7:00 a.m. the crew was serving french toast and fruit salad well
before that. This is really
appreciated by those who do want to get out early.
Leaving
the campground, we rode right into a fogbank on the highway.
Visibility was limited to a hundred meters or so -- better at hilltops,
worse in the lower-lying areas. Coming
around one bend, we see a blurry lump in the middle of the road that resolves
itself into a huge porcupine as we get closer and pass.
Sitting in the middle of the road with its bristles standing, ready to
fend off the world, I can't help but think how suprised it'll be when its
adversary turns out to be a logging truck.
Riding in fog is eerie. Everything gets beaded with water droplets, including sunglasses or visors. You can't tell visually whether or not you're on a hill -- the only clue is pedal resistance matched to cadence. Fortunately, the traffic early this morning is next to nil. Within an hour, cresting one hilltop, the fog magically vanishes as the sun wins its battle to burn the fog away.
We
ride on for about two hours with only brief on-the-bike stretches before
hitting the town of Emo where we stop to get some more fluids.
At this corner we've got a choice, Fort
Frances is our next major waypoint. Going
the official roundabout route of hwy 602 is about 20 km further than going
straight along hwy 11. The woman in
the store tells us that hwy 11 was newly paved last year, with a shoulder strip,
while 602 is rough and bumpy for long sections.
We decide to take hwy 11. It's not often that I'm feeling and
riding stronger than Jules, yet this morning appears to be one of those
times. I pull into the slight headwind for the hour or so into Fort Frances,
with Jules hanging on my wheel all the way. This is the essence of
teamwork, and it's evident in our TDC group day after day. On any given
day, some will be having a great day, and others just a good day. Occasionally,
someone will have a not-so-good day. Yet we all work together, whether
riding in pairs or large groups, so that we all succeed. What a team!
With
a population of 9,000, Fort Frances is the largest town in the Rainy River
District. The "Fort" was
first established as a trading post in 1688.
Today, the pulp and paper industry is the chief employer, although it's
evident that the commercial infrastructure is built to support a population much
bigger than 9,000. The Fort is
clearly a vacation destination hubl, in the heart of the Rainy Lake area, and
the summer-time population must be much greater than 9,000.
In
the Fort, we stop at the visitors info centre for maps and souvenir pins, and
directions to a good establishment for a second breakfast.
We choose an inn on the main street where we get great service and big
servings for little money. For $6.50, I get coffee, juice, a 3 egg omelete with ham,
cheese and onion, texas toast and a big pile of hash browns. Beauty! (As you
can tell, food is quite important to us.)
We
then head to a gift shop on the main street where I get a t-shirt for Brook
with a big caricature of a mosquito and a "Bite Me!" slogan on it, some
postcards, and an Ontario pin.
Then
it's on the road again, with about 33 km to go to camp.
This is older highway 11 now, with no shoulders, more traffic, and lots
of construction stretches. They're
rebuilding shoulders, widening the roadbed, and in places blasting the rock to
make more room. We end up riding
through a few muddy patches, so Barbarella now needs a good bath and lube on the
next rest day.
Arriving
at camp at Taylor Cove on Rainy Lake, we find a "10 out of 10"
setting. A secluded green space
with it's own sand beach, rocky points and warm, clean water.
Skipping the shower, I go for a long swim in the lake, then wash out my
cycling stuff in the lake and hang it to dry for tomorrow.
Then it's back into the lake with others for a long swim.
It really feels good to be swimming again, stretching out muscles I
haven't really used at all in about six weeks.
I find I've lost a lot of upper body strength in the last few weeks.
Going back to Masters swimming workouts in September is really going to hurt!
The
dinner crew does a great job as usual, and fully stuffed, it's time to do final
chores to get ready for an early start tomorrow morning.
As the sun sets, Kelly's just going in for a late evening swim to cool
off. Bonzer! I think I'll do the same
instead of writing more in this journal. 
Meanwhile,
it's so nice out that Brook spreads out her Thermarest and sleeping bag on the
dock, intending to sleep out tonight. We'll see whether the mosquitoes
allow her to do so or not! Signing
off.
Day's
high: Just a
grinnin' day once again!
Great swimming!
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
...alan
Taylor's
Cove,
East
of Fort Frances, Ontario
Day
29: Taylor Cove to Quetico Provincial Park, Ontario
July
27, 2000
"When
you help someone up a hill you"re that much nearer the top yourself"
anon
I
was up really early this morning - about 3 a.m. thanks to a basic biological
imperative. When up, the sky was
clear, the milky way and all the constellations were shining brightly, and a
waning sliver of a moon hung like a scimitar in the sky. It was warm and perfectly still; even the mosquitoes were
asleep. I sat and stood outside on
the rocky point for several minutes just watching the sky, before retiring,
leaving my tent doors open so I could see the sky from where I lay.
I must have drifted in and out of sleep, because I remember dream
fragments as well as the sky gradually brightening towards the coming sunrise.
At 5 a.m., upon hearing the galley crew stirring, I was up too. Over the next half an hour, a nascent thunderhead formed
quickly and spread its anvil over the sky, blocking out the sun. I watch
it warily, hoping it dissipates as quickly as it formed, without dumping on us.
By
6:30 a.m. Jules and I are on the road, spinning along in the cool, fresh
morning air. The top of each hill
is bathed in thinly-veiled sunshine, while in each valley low we knife through
wispy tendrils of morning ground fog, leaving it swirling in our wake. It's calm and peaceful on the road for the longest time -- little traffic, no
wind, just us and our bikes passing this way but once, the Inukshuks perched on
top of the granite cuts along the highway watching our passing without comment.
Within
the first 30 km we caught up with and passed Neri, as usual having left camp
quite early to pedal his own pace throughout the day. Eric caught us when we stopped at a store to refill on
fluids. He was moving fast.
He'd said earlier that he was out for a fast ride today, and we were all
teasing him that he'd invited everyone to race with him the 150+ km to our next
camp. Also zipping by in a blur was
Karl, leaving much later after breakfast cleanup, but out to catch Eric.
The average speed that Jules and I log for the first 30 km is 27.5 km/hr.
Not bad for our warm up!
The
next place with any kind of services is Atikokan at 110 km, still 80 km or about
three hours away. It's pretty
remote along this stretch of highway 11 -- 80 km with no settlement, stores, gas
stations; nothing at all but wilderness cut by a swath of highway.
Along the way we see a red fox, a fawn, heron and lots of beaver dams and
lodges. On one hill, I decide to
see what kind of power I've got. I
put my head down, spin up on the runup to the hill, and then power to the top
without changing gears. That feels
good! But I won't do many of those without burning all my energy
reserves quickly. In powering
ahead, I leave Jules a little behind. As
he joins me again, he asks if I saw the wolf crossing the road.
Apparently it crossed the road just ahead of me, and my field of vision
was so focused I didn't even notice it! From
now on I'm going back to woods-gazing as we pedal along, so as to not miss any
more wildlife.
Along
this stretch we also catch up with Kelly and chat for a while.
She had left camp early too, and had a run in with several bees along the
way. One bumblebee wanted to feed
her, one simply banged off her face, and one got in behind her sunglasses and
stung her just below the eye. Fortunately
a little mud pack took the sting out. A
little later, I see Jules just ahead of me frantically swatting at his right
ear. A bee has gotten tangled in behind his helmet straps, and
he's trying to get it out, which he does. Not
long after, a bee bounces off my sunglasses, and then one bounces off my helmet.
This is dangerous territory! The deer flies in Whiteshell must have
broadcast ahead that we cyclists are easy prey!
I
do exact some vengeance on the insect world this morning, in retaliation for all
the mosquito and fly bites, and the bee attacks. When we stop for one of our banana & stretch breaks, I
notice my arms and legs are covered with gnats -- just like a car's windshield.
I count about 75 on one leg, and over 200 in total. Hah!
Take that! Not total
retribution, yet I feel better nevertheless.
Today's
a long ride on a very hilly road. By
the end of the day we'll have climbed about nearly 1,300m in total.
I'm paying close attention to my fluid intake, food intake, and energy
level. Nevertheless, after about
three and a half hours I notice that all the zip is gone on the hills.
I've depleted my readily available energy reserves and now I'm running on
what I eat and drink along the way. That
means I need to lower my burn rate. Jules
is feeling the same way, and we both throttle back for the final distance into
Atikokan.
Atikokan
is not right on the highway, but rather about three kilometers down a side
highway. Running into a stretch of
construction just before getting to the turn, we stop and ask the sweet young
thing with the traffic flag signs where a good place might be to eat in the
town. Armed with local knowledge,
we detour into town at about 11 a.m. As
we approach the Atikokan town sign, about 30m from it, I look at Jules and say
"Is that a town sign?" He
immediately assumes it's a sprint challenge and charges ahead.
Laughing loudly I try to sprint too, but quit after about 10m -- I'm
laughing too much and have too little energy for this game.
Accordingly, Jules get the win.
Pedaling down the main drag, we spot Eric and Karl's bicycles outside a local motel restaurant. We stop there too and go in to join them. The lunch special today is chicken-rice soup and a chicken burger. Karl's comment is that the soup is great but the chicken burger is so-so. Jules goes for it. I decide for two bowls of the soup. We also get a pitcher of ice water and I get coffee and a very very large chocolate milk. The soup is indeed great! It's homemade, loaded with chunks of chicken and tons of rice, and served in a big bowl -- over 300 ml for sure. The soup goes down quickly. The waitress gave me a strange look when I ordered two bowls, but that was nothing compared to the look I get when I order the third and it disappears quickly as well! Our appetite and appearance can't hide easily in places like this. The family sitting at the next table is curious, and we chat about our cycling journey. As usually happens, they're a little disbelieving that we started out in Vancouver, we're headed for St. John's, and we're on bicycles! Yep, that's us -- what a life!
Back
out the three kilometers to rejoin the highway, we find Karin and John at the
intersection too. They've decided to cycle
right through and not stop. They must have better energy reserves than I
do. At this point, we're faced with
a few kilometers of real mucky construction.
The highway is being resurfaced in this vicinity.
In front of us is recently laid, watered and compacted gravel, and a hill
about a kilometer or so long on a 3% or 4% grade.
A construction crew works on one side, and only one side of the highway
is open. Not nice. By the
time we get through this section we and our bikes are covered with thick slimy
clay-like red mud. Oh joy!
Shower time will be fun this afternoon.
Karl
has raced on ahead, and Eric, John, Karin, Jules and I form a paceline to make
the travel easier. We've got a bit
of a NE headwind, but nothing too severe. I
find that I'm depleted enough that riding in a paceline, with the concentration
it takes, isn't for me today. As
well, when in a paceline I can't watch the scenery, which is what I really want
to do today. The pace is also too quick -- Eric is pulling us at just over 30
km/hr and that's too high a burn rate for me.
I drop off the back of the line and they slow let me get plugged back in.
The rest of the group wants to go slower as well, so Eric races on ahead
on his own. Still, I don't want to
ride in a paceline today, so when the group peels off the highway for a
pit stop, I
simply keep going on my own.
About
45 minutes later I stop at a store just east of the camp entrance and treat
myself to a Fudgesicle and a Dew for a great day and a long, hilly ride.
At the entrance to Quetico Provincial Park a few minutes later, I stop
for a picture of my bike in front of the sign, and then ride over to the camp
office for directions, and to get some postcards.
I also pick up a t-shirt with one of my favourite pictures on it.
It's Ken Danby's "True North." We have an artist's proof of this at home -- I had given it
to C last Christmas. The
painting symbolizes the goodness of Canada's northwoods areas -- like this one,
and reminds me of C.
After
setting up camp and having a shower to wash off all the salt, mud, gnats and
general road grit and grime, I'm faced with cleaning my bike.
Hmmm! One of the shower rooms is built extra-large for disabled folks, and it
has a hand-held shower unit. Eureka!
Back into the shower I go, this time with Barbarella.
A few minutes later we emerge and Barbarella is shining again.
After lubing her chain and drying her off, we're both ready to ride again
another day.
Meanwhile,
Kelly and Brook had sweet-talked someone into loaning us two canoes for the
evening, so canoe paddling on the lake is enjoyed by any who want to go out.
Brook's clearly in her element here -- she loves to be in a canoe. (see
picture below) It's peaceful and calming on the lake, and we return just in time for
supper. After supper, postcards and
this journal are the next tasks.
[Eric, Brook, Jules, Kelly, Jon -
cyclists with paddles!]
Now,
it's time for an early bedtime. Most
of us are going to be up very early to get out on the highway before the
traffic, heat and wind for the 175km hilly grind to Thunder Bay.
Slowly we work our way across Canada; our progress noticeable on the maps
many of us keep. What a life!
Day's
high: All the
wildlife along the road.
Outstanding soup in Atikokan.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
...alan
Ojibway
Campground, Pickerel Lake,
Quetico
Provincial Park, Ontario
Day
30: Quetico Provincial Park to Thunder Bay, Ontario
July
28, 2000
"I've
got muscles talking to me I didn't even know I had."
Karin Lawrence at 100 km point on 175 km ride today
Panic!
A noise outside wakes me up and it's light!
My watch tells me it's 5:30 a.m. Somehow
I forgot to set my alarm, and I overslept.
This is going to be a long day and a few of us had agreed to be up early
to leave by 6 a.m. Panic!
In a record 40 minutes I take down my tent, stow all my gear, make my
lunch, gather all my bike stuff without forgetting anything, stuff down four big
blueberry pancakes drenched in syrup, a cup of coffee and two cups of water, and
visit the washroom. I'm ready!
Whew! And only 10 minutes late. Let's
not do this again. And this is a
vacation?
Karin,
John, Jules and I hit the road at 6:15 a.m. for our 175 km ride from Pickerel
Lake in Quetico Park to Lakehead University in Thunder Bay.
As usual, the road is quiet this early in the morning; there's no traffic
at all until about 9 a.m. and then it's pretty light for most of the morning.
The woods and lakes are just waking up as the sun burns off the night
mist and ground fog. The lakes, far
shores and distant hills are blued out with mist -- it's very beautiful just
like you'd expect to see on a postcard. Other than lots of rolling hills,
despite the beauty, it can actually be monotonous -- the wilderness doesn't
change. It's all water, rock, scrub
undergrowth and trees, right up to the road's edge, kilometer after endless
kilometer, endless reaches of nothingness.
Passing
through 30 km on our journey today, we come upon a roadside sign that highlights
the Atlantic-Artic watershed. From this point, waters on the west drain toward Hudson's Bay,
mostly through Lake Winnipeg and the Nelson River. Waters on the east drain toward the Atlantic through the
Great Lakes. Even though we're
traveling eastward, and the Atlantic side of the sign is most significant to
us, the rising sun illuminates the Artic side of the sign, so that's where we
take our pictures.
There is nothing in the way of settlements, gas stations or any other sign of civilization for 110 km between the Quetico Park entrance and the town of Shabaqua to our east. Shabaqua marks the junction of highways 11 and 17 -- the two primary routes through northern Ontario east of Thunder Bay. After many hours of pedaling in a loose paceline, up hills and down, we're about 8 km from Shabaqua when it's my turn to pull the line again. Settling in, I think that if there aren't any big uphills to kill me, I can probably last the 15 to 20 minutes it'll take to get there. There's a game that's played in cycling groups called "town signs", the objective being to treat each town sign along the route as a finish line. As a group approaches the town sign, lots of catty positioning occurs until someone makes a break and starts the sprint for the "finish". It's a game, an ego thing, and a good training tool. Occasionally on this trip we play it simply to add spice to the day.
Well, I'm figuring that I'm at the front of the paceline, my legs are dead, and my only chance is to pull the group all the way to the Shabaqua town sign, then break from the group to sprint it out. I know I'm not a sprinter and don't have a hope of beating John or Jules or Karl. Yet, my endurance is really good, so if I can power this paceline at a fast enough pace for long enough, I might just get an edge. With about 2 km to go we've been up a few low-grade rises and down a couple of big grades, and while dead, I'm spinning well. Surprise! John comes powering down the left side of the paceline, passing me by 5, 10, 15 then 20 metres before I can muster the energy to match his pace and tuck tightly in behind him. He knows the game well! My quads are burning, crying for relief. I'm not going to let this one go. I don't have a town sign yet this trip, and I want one. Matching John's speed, I'm benefiting from his slipstream and, taking advantage of his very smooth ride, drafting about 5 cm off his back wheel. This is called, "sucking wheel" for obvious reasons. I know that as soon as I slide sideways to attempt to slingshot ahead, I'm going to be facing a 40 km/hr headwind of our own making. Watching my cadence and gear selection, I'm watching for the town sign. I know this is going to hurt, and hurt a lot, but I don't care. I went anaerobic a little while ago, and my heart and lungs are now crying for relief too. I'm not going to let this one go. There's the sign -- Shabaqua -- about 200m ahead. Wait, wait, wait for it, wait . . . now! Up out of the saddle, every bit of energy I don't have goes into powering the bike ahead, surging past John. I've got the jump! Before he can respond, I've got a 10m lead. Now I've got to hang on, straining to keep accelerating, straining to spin out in the gear I'm in. I've got it! Shabaqua is mine, all mine! I don't even care that I know full well that John let me have it, that he's a much stronger rider than I, that he could have trounced me in a nanosecond, that he knew exactly what I was doing all along. I know that John knows that somehow I know he knows, that it doesn't matter, and in that he shares my "victory". There is no victory as sweet as one that's impossible when starting out, and shared.
As
we wait for Karin and Jules to catch up, my heartrate comes back to a normal
range, although my legs will continue to groan and whine all day.
I'll pay for this, or as Jules says, "I'll
never do that again!" But
I needed to do it, so I did. Across
the bridge over the Oskadaka River and up one more hill, and we stop for lunch
at the Timberline Inn and Restaurant (picture right). Over
the next hour, we enjoy their endless pitchers of ice water, also used to refill
our Camelbaks, homemade blueberry pie, ice cream, and chicken noodle soup
(homemade, big chunks of chicken, hearty broth, piled with noodles -- two bows,
just great!)
While
we're there, Brook and Catherine arrive in the truck, then Robert arrives, and
just before we leave a few others arrive too.
A nice time in the sun for chatting, swapping stories, filling our
bellies and waterbottles, and delaying getting back on the hot highway.
We've come more than 100 km so far today, and we've got over 70 km left
to go.
Not
long after lunch, I spot Jules' rear tire getting soft and sure enough, he's got
a flat. While Jules repairs it with
Karin's help, John decides to replace the tube in his front tire, and I help
him. John's tire has been going a
bit soft, and it turns out to be a slow leak.
He'd been wondering why he had no snap climbing hills, and now we know -- his
slightly soft tire was absorbing all the energy instead of transmitting it
through to the road. One benefit of the repair time is that my legs get an unexpected
and welcome additional half hour rest.
Many
more kilometers and brutal hills later, we arrive at Kakabeka Provincial Park
about 30 km east of Thunder Bay. Here
are the Kakabeka Falls -- very large, very picturesque as they cut through and
spill over a what seems like a gazillion layers of shale and other hard rock
structures. The 40m falls are
extremely impressive, due to the great volume of water going over the sheer drop.
The Indian "Legend of Greenmantle" tells of an Ojibwa princess,
captured by the Sioux, who in pretending to guide them to her tribe, led them
straight over the falls instead. The
moral? Never trust a woman's
navigational instructions? The
falls are on the Kaministiquia River, an important link in the fur trading route
from Fort William (predecessor to Thunder Bay, with Port Arthur) on Lake Superior, through Quetico
to Fort Frances on Rainy Lake, thus providing a portage route connection between
the Atlantic and Artic watersheds, and a gateway from the Great Lakes to the
Canadian interior.
Leaving
Kakabeka Falls, we turn off highway 11/17 onto Oliver Road, a regional road that
will lead us for about 25 km straight into Thunder Bay, and right to the
doorstep of Lakehead University. By
now we're struggling a little. I'm
in my "don't bug me I'm burnt" mood -- not talking, staring straight
ahead, focused entirely on keeping cadence and hanging in with the group.
Along this road we meet Robert again -- he passed us while we were at the
Falls. Robert joins in with us for
the run into Thunder Bay, pulling us at a muscle-screaming 30+ km/hr for a few
kilometers before we dial it back to a more reasonable pace for the burned out
geriatrics we are today. My turn
pulling for a few kilometers is unspeakable agony; I've got our own 27 km/hr
pace added to a slight headwind and a few upgrades. My thighs are on fire
constantly, and I know there's no relief until we get there.
Finally my pull is over and I slide to the back of the paceline to suck
wheel and recover until the next time, which thankfully doesn't come because
there it is -- the entrance to Lakehead University.
Seeing
our final destination, especially after more than 9 hours on the road, always
seems to spark an endorphin and adrenaline rush or something.
Spinning into the parking lot with arms raised high in victory seems
effortless. We've conquered another day, seen another bit of Canada metre by
metre, pedal stroke by pedal stroke.
Our
accommodation tonight is in university residence. Wonder what it'll feel like to sleep inside, in a bed, after
a month of camping in a different place every night? We check into our rooms, find showers without lineups and
without bugs to share them with, and find beds devoid of insect companions.
There are lots of chores to do tomorrow -- laundry, journals and email,
postcards, bike repairs, and so on. For
now, a hot shower is the most exquisite luxury imaginable.
Isabelle
had arranged a group dinner tonight sponsored by some group, to a Chinese
restaurant. Twenty minutes after
they were supposed to show up to car pool us over there, John, Dave, Karin and I
hop in a taxi to an Italian restaurant picked out of the yellow pages.
We end up at the Calabria Ristorante at 66 South Court St, and Grant is
our server. If you're in Thunder
Bay, you have to try this place -- did we ever get lucky!
All the dishes are made in the kitchen from scratch.
After a round of beers, followed by breads and bruscetta with a bottle of
Wolfe Blass Shiraz, John and I each order a
large pizza, and a second bottle of wine is a house Italian Merlot (an
oxymoron if you ask me, yet as a second bottle it didn't matter at all!). All this followed by lemon gelati and cappuccino.
As you might imagine, we had a great time.
Grant even phoned the taxi for us, and wrapped up our few remaining
slices of pizza for our breakfast tomorrow.
What a life!
Tomorrow's
chores include laundry, shopping (an additional memory wafer for my digital
camera), and bike maintenance. Barbarella
needs a thorough cleaning and inspection, it's time to replace the chain, and
her back wheel is a little looser than it should be AGAIN!
I'm hoping this is just the bearings running themselves true again
following the last repairs in Kenora, almost 600 km and four days ago.
The only way to tell is to take the cogset off, take the hub apart,
clean, inspect carefully, relube and assemble.
If it's anything more serious, I'll be off to the bike shop once again!
Our team mate with diabetes was back on the road again today. She did about 30 km, and is feeling fine. After a day's rest, she'll be back on the road, to try a couple of shorter days consecutively. She's testing her edges, will discover them, and will eventually gain the satisfaction of doing the very best she can within her limitations. We've all got limitations, and this adventure slaps them in our faces every day. Whether it's as simple as a hill that shouldn't be as tough as it is, as painful as legs that don't want to turn another revolution, as discouraging as equipment that isn't as trustworthy as one might assume, or as demoralizing as a full bonk with many kilometers left to go, we all encounter one or more each and every day. Nobody is exempt. I count myself lucky if I have to deal with only one of these in a day. Today, for instance, I started eating and drinking very early in the ride, and kept eating and drinking all day while on the road. After about three hours my glycogen stored reserves are gone, at least the little from last night's dinner following yesterday's ride. From then on I'm burning body fat and whatever I can quickly digest from food ingested during the day. That's why I stick to things like cereal bars, bananas and soups. And tons of fluids.
Out of interest today I kept a tally of fluid volumes
from rising to bedtime. I've consumed over 360 oz of liquids - about three
gallons - not including the
soup at lunch. That is one big
slosh!
I
wonder a lot these days what it feels like to not have legs that feel tired all the time, to be
able to bounce up a flight of stairs. I
probably won't know for another five weeks.
We
also changed time zones today and we're now on Eastern Daylight Time.
While my clock says 12:45 a.m. I know two things -- that it's really an
hour earlier, and that I don't have to get up tomorrow morning!
I also know we've done nearly 3,500 km so far, traveling from Vancouver
to Thunder Bay by bicycle. We're
just about halfway across Canada. What
an adventure! What a life!
Day's
high: Winning the
Shabaqua town sign.
Not bonking in over 6 hours on the bike today, following three previous
hilly days.
Day's
low: Feeling
great and full of energy all day, but leg muscles are simply too wagged to want
to work well on the hills.
Daily
Stats:
Weather:
...alan
Bartley
Residence, Lakehead University,
Thunder
Bay, Ontario
Day
31: Rest day in Thunder Bay
July
29, 2000
"Age
doesn't always bring wisdom. Sometimes age comes alone."
Red Green
And
that quote reflects the story of Barbarella's (my bike's) rear wheel.
I thought the mechanic in Kenora had done a great job by spotting and
replacing a bent axle. I also watched him re-assemble it carefully and look it over
as he did so. To make a long story
short, my back wheel started to develop a noticeable limp again. Today's a rest
day in Thunder Bay, and number one chore is coaxing Barbarella back to good
health.
It was really strange to sleep inside last night, on a bed! What made it somewhat intolerable is the great weather -- sunny and hot -- combined with student dorms that have poor ventilation, no air conditioning, and good, solid heat absorbing and retaining concrete block and small-windows construction. This might be great for the rest of the year, but for the few days of summer heat, it's stifling. I'll be glad when we're camping out again I think. I've had enough of a return to civilization to last another few weeks. The night was also disturbed by some car alarm in the parking lot going off and wailing for about 45 minutes before somebody shot it. All of that conspired to make poor sleeping conditions.
Groggy and stumbling around, I'm up at 6 a.m. so might as well get my laundry done, resort my baskets, and put them away. There; it's now 7:30 a.m. and nobody else is up and around yet. What to do now? I go out to the parking lot, open up the truck storage area, put my baskets away, and spend some time sorting out my stuff. I've actually got a knapsack full of stuff that I've accumulated or brought with me and am not using, that's just taking up space. The last thing I want to do is pack it up at the end of the trip and fly it home with me. I pack it all up in a bag ready to send home with C when I see her in a couple of weeks.
I am surprised at how little stuff I actually need and use on this trip. I brought too many clothes, books, toiletries, and so forth. After a day's ride and a shower, the clothes we wear are only on for a couple of hours before it's bedtime. A couple of t-shirts, a pair of shorts, a pair of long pants and a warm top are all that are really needed (as well as something to wear while all of that's in the laundry). I also brought along about five books, thinking I'd have lots of time to read. Even when we get into camp around 2 p.m., it seems that by the time my bike chores are done, things are ready for the next day, dinner's done, and my journal's done, it's already dark or near dark and I'm falling asleep. Normally I read every night for at least half an hour, and go through about a book a week. On this trip so far I've only read 180 pages in one book, in one month.
I
can get access to a phone line when the residence office opens at 8 a.m., so I
spend some time proofing the last few days' worth of journal entries, and
stacking up my email ready to go out. As
soon as the office opens, I get my WinCE PC connected to the Internet and
send/receive my email. For the last couple
of connections, Roger's @home mobile service has been working much better, and
I've been able to connect first time and get my journal sent and pick up any
personal email waiting for me. There are
lots of messages from people reading my journal.
It's getting passed on and passed on. This is great! Please keep the messages coming!
I appreciate every one, even if I don't get a chance to reply.
Email
done, I have only one chore left of importance, and that's to tear down
the hub on my rear wheel and find out what the root of the problem is.
Since it's still early, I'm the first one to open up the rest of the truck, and it
takes a while before I can actually get started on repairs. Putting the bike on the maintenance
stand, I pop the back wheel. It's
also time to replace the chain, so I take off the old one.
I tear down the rear hub by taking off the cogset and then extracting the
axle and bearing assemblies. Cleaning
everything thoroughly first, I then start a close inspection of everything.
Eureka! There it is.
The drive side cone -- a cone shaped nut that screws onto the axle and
provides a surface for the bearings to roll on -- is scalloped around about half
it's circumference, by as much as a millimeter.
With that much out-of-round, it's no wonder that my wheel wobbles. Unfortunately, this isn't something that I can fix on the
spot; I need a replacement cone first.
That means packing up all my tools, cleaning up the repair cart, storing all the
parts for re-assembly in a plastic bag and tieing it to my bike, putting my bike frame in the
truck, locking up the repair cart and chaining & locking it to the truck, and locking up
the truck again. Whew!
While
I'm working on my bike, and again later, there's a steady but light flow of
people through the residence parking lot -- some walking, some roller blading,
some bicycling. Quite a few noticed
all the cyclists around yesterday (the group ahead of us arrived a day earlier
and left this morning) and are curious. Many
stop to chat and ask questions. As
always, everyone's intrigued by our journey and wants to learn more.
This makes my greasy work go more quickly as I've usually got someone to
talk to while I work.
After
getting cleaned up, I take my backpack and wheel (loosely reassembled) and hop
in a taxi to Cyclepath. I need to
get this problem fixed, so I'm not going to waste time walking or taking busses
today! As I get out of the taxi, a
number of our group walks out of the store -- our tribe sure does get around!
The bike mechanic instantly knows exactly what I want, and digs one out
of his Shimano parts kits. The new
one isn't a perfect match on depth, so he also gives me some spacer rings so that I can
get the right freewheel clearance when I
reassemble the hub. Total cost for
parts? $5.00.
So much grief for $5.00! @#$%^%$#!!!
While
in the store, Chef Bruce and Jules also arrive. I also see Jon's bike on the repair stand.
Seems like all we cyclists do on days off is visit bike stores!
But, I'm done in here; next stop is the mall down the road to get some
lunch. I hit it lucky today -- the
food court has a New York Fries! One
gigantic portion of fries with gravy, washed down with a big Dew, and I'm ready to hit the heat outside to walk
to Future Shop. I'm using a digital
camera on this trip, under-estimated the number of pictures I'd take, and so
need an additional storage wafer. I'd
called them earlier and they had a 64 Mb SmartMedia card -- just what I need
-- at a reasonable price. Sure
enough, they've still got it, and now it's mine.
I'm good for another few hundred pictures.
I'm going to really be able to bore rooms full of people when I get back.
[chortle with glee here!]
It
takes me about an hour to walk back to Lakehead University campus, and it's hot
out -- about 26C under a blue sky. By
the time I'm almost back I'm fried, and ready for another shower and a cold
drink.
Re-assembling
my wheel, adjusting the cones, putting on a new chain, completely cleaning and
lubing everything on Barbarella in
the process, running in in the chain lube, and tinkering with the derailleur
clearances takes me nearly two hours. Boy
oh boy! This Barbarella is one high
maintenance babe! But look at her
now with a rock solid rear wheel and a sparkle from every angle.
She's a thoroughbred ready to rock and roll!
A few circles around the parking lot to check the brake and derailleur
adjustments I've made and I declare the job finished and well done.
As
I'm working away, several others come by to do some work on their bikes, and I
help Robert put on a new chain. As
one point we jump as Eric, while inflating a new tire, does something that
clearly isn't right, and explodes the tire.
We're awake now, sleepy hot sun or not.
After
getting cleaned up yet again (my fourth shower today), about eleven of us take
the 20 minute walk to Boston Pizza for dinner.
Most order pizza, yet I had pizza last night and still have a couple of
pieces in my room fridge for later. I
find contentment in a large rack of BBQ ribs, a mound of garlic mashed red
potatoes, a salad and a schooner of beer.
A massive bumbleberry cobbler with ice cream adds a nice finishing touch.
On
the walk back to Lakehead U (which we think should have been called Canoehead
U), we stop at a mini-mart to pick up some Gatorade and snackies for tomorrow.
By the time I get back to my room, I'm hungry again, and out comes the
left-over pizza from last night, devoured as I scan today's National Post.
It's really strange reading a newspaper when cut off from the news many days
at a time. There's no continuity or
context to events. The business
section just goes over my head since I'm not in the loop on events as they
build, climax and wane. Oh well, too bad! Don't
really want to know anyway. I see enough to be assured that my investments
are earning much much more than I'm spending while away, so I'm happy.
I
didn't really want to spend the day nursing Barbarella back to health; several others
spent the time exploring Thunder Bay and joining the crowds at the harbourfront
for the annual Dragon Boat Festival. Yet
I don't regret or begrudge the time spent on bike maintenance. There are days
when we're on the road for many hours without contact with civilization.
I need equipment I can trust. I
am happy and secure in the knowledge that I'm riding good equipment, that I know
it intimately, that I can handle repairs and that I can trust it's performance
in all conditions. Without that,
this would not be a fun trip.
Tomorrow
we leave Thunder Bay. We'll visit
the Terry Fox Memorial, which I expect to be a moving experience, and then roll
on down busy highway 11/17 to Nipigon. Our
partial circumnavigation of Lake Superior commences. Also tomorrow we'll hit the half-way point in our journey
across Canada. Awesome! What a
life!
Day's
high: Finding
and fixing the root problem with my bike's back wheel.
...alan
Bartley
Residence, Lakehead University,
Thunder
Bay, ON
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