Only One (Bike) Ride Left

Hello from North Sydney, NS where we await tonight's (technically Saturday's) 1:30 AM sailing of the ferry to Newfoundland (fortunately, just ahead of hurricane Earl, it seems). To catch up from where I last left off...

Day 68
Today was a day of confirmation through accomplishment. Although the start was dodgy, with showers to greet the dawn, they soon passed and we had but wet roads (and pavement that alternated between silky smooth and crocodiled) as we (or at least I) enjoyed the rolling terrain.

OK, there were a few tough climbs (with attendant quick descents) - and we weren't even on the official Cabot Trail yet. But the views improved as we started rolling towards Cheticamp.

Our first real ascent - that of French Mountain - was tough (11% grade, I believe) but easily doable if you just stayed within your limits.

The land where car commercials are shot

The second climb - that of Mackenzie Mountain - had an ascent I barely noticed inasmuch as it came at the bottom of a long descent that provided sufficient momentum to climb almost all the way up before having to pedal with any sort of determination. My enjoyment of Mackenzie's steep, long, and switch-backed descent, however, (seen here in an aerial photo I obviously didn't take)

was hampered  by some cracked pavement and doubts about tire adhesion in the road's centre 'drip zone', given that there had been a sprinkling of rain on the way up. I managed to stop at some overlooks, but missed being able to photograph the most commanding views when traffic and road conditions prevented my easy (ha!) braking and crossing of the roadway to enter the pulloff to the left.

View of Fishing Cove from one lookout I managed to stop at

After lunch, I began the serious ascent of North Mountain, whose initial 4km at a 13% grade provided a good test of mettle.

I only wish I had known the road better for the correspondingly steep downhill that eventually ensued (I ended up stopping at a couple of turnouts - something I should have done coming down French - to lose some speed and keep my rims from heating up too much, when letting things run would  have been the better choice as the descent simply wound down the mountain without ever switching back).

If you zoom this image you'll see the road actually starts at the very top notch before dropping. Precipitously.

At any rate, once back to level ground there were a few more climbs after leaving the national park and then once in camp I thought my Cabot Trail experience was just about over. It felt good to have pushed myself, and I was pleased to note that my legs still felt strong at the end of the day. But the campsite showers were the most expensive yet: $1!! Did they perhaps know how much salt had accumulated on me?

After the initial 4KM (and there was plenty more left to climb)

And once again we had a commanding campsite view.

Day 69
Of course I soon discovered that my previous day's notion about The Trail being pretty much done was wildly incorrect, as we encountered the day's 4H program: heat, hills, headwinds, and...hiking??
I started off by electing to ride the scenic and shorter but "hillier" (so the route sheet noted)  alternative to the main road.

Stiff climbs to start the day

"Hillier" didn't quite capture the essence of this route (which had at least one grade of 15% to contend with), nor did the sheet mention the poor state of the pavement - on the winding descent into Neils Harbour at 60 kph I literally wasn't sure I was going to be able to successfully navigate the rubble that passed for pavement at that point. But we did get scenic views.

 Nevertheless, it was a relief to rejoin the main road and its gloriously smooth, wide shoulder and gentler climbs (what "federal dollars" will get you). It, too, had scenic views:

Soon after, however, the road aligned with the sun and the heat began to rise for our climb to and over Smokey Mountain. Eventually it became like travelling into the barrel of a heat gun, and we were fortunate the grade was only 'moderate'.

"On top of old Smokey, all covered with sweat..."

I was cautiously enjoying the crazy spiral back down to sea level, when after turning one corner I was suddenly hit by a blast of air that quite literally almost stopped me dead in my tracks. I descended the rest of the way with effort,

Look closely and you can see how the road corkscrews down the mountain at this point.

and then settled in to the long and hot grind further down the barrell of the heat gun, whose fan had now been activated. Then just to complete things, the dirt road to our campsite was so steep and soft that it was imposssible to ride with my narrow tires (they kept slipping as I lost traction) so I had to walk my bike up the hill. And we had thought the day - at a little over 100km - was going to be easy!

Day 70
As the song goes, what a difference a day makes. Temperatures have eased a little bit, but the day is still warm and sunny and I enjoyed a lovely (and short - only 43 km) ride to North Sydney where we will catch tonight's ferry to Argentia, just ahead of Hurricane Earl. In fact I tried to ride without effort so as to minimize my sweating (avoiding it entirely proved unworkable). There were many nice (and initially shaded) climbs

with long, cooling descents and several scenic lookout points,

and I took advantage of the situation to ride alongside and talk with some of the slower riders. At one spot I also let some nice woman who now lives in Calgary unburden herself with the issues of caring for her aged (and demented) mother on Cape Breton. She had been nice enough to take my/our photos so it seemed only fair to reciprocate.
And now I have nothing to do but wait for the ferry. Perhaps I'll go back to the truck and get my camera cable so I can start illustrating my previous posts. Then all too soon, the trip will be over and I will be thrust back into what passes for reality in Ottawa. Stay tuned for that post, I'm sure.

Update:  back in Ottawa I am elaborating on the day. Our descent took us past scenic outlooks that foreshadowed our route.

It's a short ride from here to the bridge below

It was even a bit thrilling, at times.

"Slow to 40 km/h at curve" it says. Not a chance!

With nothing to do but wait for the ferry, mischief ensued: these guys discovered what happens when you leave your bikes unattended and a few women decide you need to accessorize.

There was also a free concert in the park by the ferry dock (worth what we paid, I'm afraid), then it was off into the bowels of the boat to stow our bikes for the 14 hour crossing.