Heading Home

We had one helluva windstorm overnight in Argentia, but my tent and I survived and Hurricane Earl provided nice tailwinds to ease the ride up Signal Hill today. Thus endeth my participation in Tour du Canada 2010. Tomorrow I fly back to Ottawa where I will presumably have time to clean up this blog. Sorry for the brevity but I have to go pack....

Now to recap:
Day 71
With foggy and snory conditions,  there's not much to say about our sea voyage, except that I didn't sleep well (it turned out that the lounge next door to our "quiet area"  was not only quieter, but even had more comfortable chairs/banquettes than our recliners). Everyone seems to be in the same frame of mind: we're sad our trip is ending yet at the same time glad it's going to be over.

Landing at Argentia, we snapped the requisite photos at the NL sign, then rode the 3km to set up camp.

As the sun gave way to winds and cloud - the effects of Hurricane Earl - we enjoyed pizza and beer for the Last Supper in Camp. Some folks distributed gifts.

Then it was off to catch up on rest for the last day of riding. Unfortunately, we then experienced as windy a night as I have ever endured, and I spent most of it supporting  my tent from the inside as it repeatedly collapsed - nay, slammed - over me before (thankfully) springing back. In fact the wind flattened or otherwise destroyed 7 tents that night, and by morning the camp office resembled a refugee camp.

Day 72
With the wind still pounding the surf but fortunately at our backs, we set off.

The Rock was still brooding as the morning sun fought to break through,

but conditions gradually improved as we approached St. John's until ultimately we were riding in sunshine.

After a series of ups and downs we eventually wound our way through Mt. Pearl to convene for the final procession up Signal Hill. However, several people elected not to wait for the entire group to assemble before setting off for the ritual dipping of the wheels in the Atlantic.

Then before you knew it, the Final Climb, and the Tour, was over.

Murray's welcoming team extended their hospitality to us all

I lingered on top until the last rider made it in, then descended to the hotel to prepare for the banquet and celebrations. Reviews of my Karaoke performance were mixed.

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.

 

What's the Buzz? It's hot, hot, hot!

Hello from Cape Breton, where tomorrow we tackle the 3 big climbs in our clockwise assault on the island. I'm taking advantage of the campground's computer to post some text; photos will likely have to wait until I return to Ottawa.

Day 64
Another coastal day in New Brunswick - if we put together 5 of these would we be pentacoastal?

Despite my having felt pretty good at 4:30AM, my back was really killing me through the ride.   We crossed 2 bridges closed to traffic (which necessitated lifting my bike over obstacles)

Bridge 1 was relatively easy to negotiate

Bridge 2 was a little more challenging!

and it seems my 'best  roads' award to NB may have been hasty: although the heavily-trafficked routes are fine - even exquisite, in fact - the remaining highways that cyclists are prone to take are as quilted and rutted as elsewhere, and my butt felt every defect. Even worse, every ka-chunk (transverse crack) sent a ripple of pain up my back as my vertebrae compressed with the impact. To make matters worse,  the recommended side-trip I endured instead of taking the smooth highway (a detour that added an extra 5km to the day) was not scenic at all, despite having been advertized as such. 

Scenery was not entirely mundane, however,

Now that's a deck!

 although people could have been more courteous when queuing for the requisite photo in Shediac.

And the moquitoes have returned, although the NB variety are slower-moving  than their Ontario counterparts. They leave a big smear of blood when swatted, too, but did not keep usd from enjoying the sunset.

Day 65
Today was frustrating, as some of us had to wait almost 3 hours for the shuttle across the Confederation Bridge to PEI.

You can see it, you're just not allowed to ride on it :(

The shuttle trailer, which normally holds 13 bikes at a time, was restricted to 7 because of a shortage of parts. Fortunately, a second vehicle was eventually despatched to handle the recumbent on our tour, and was able to take some other bikes and riders as well. A few enterprising folks also managed to hitchhike and avoid the delays that way.

The day was sunny and warm, and although I remained unsuccessful in my quest for a gear cable (to replace the one I had borrowed when mine broke), we all succumbed to The Island's charms and had a wonderful, relaxing evening in our waterside campsite.

Day 66
The heat continued to build as summer reasserted itself, but most of us managed to make the 11:15 ferry departure. As we passed fields of corn growing by the shore, I wondered if it grew pre-salted.

"Would you like a cookie while you wait?"

The scenery on the NS side was mostly non-descript, and there was this visual non-sequitur

Mostly it was so hot that I hardly minded when the shower ran out of hot water. The mosquitoes continued their resurgence as well, but we endured the onslaught to watch a long and glorious sunset over the water.

Day 67
I tried to take it easy today in order to remain fresh for tomorrow's climbs, but things didn't quite work out that way: once I crossed the Canso Causeway into Cape Breton, the wind shifted and grew in intensity, and I had to labour against it (and battle 17 km of bad road) to get into camp.

Intro to Cape Breton 1:  rolling hills and good road (that we later abandoned)

There's also a hurricane brewing in the Atlantic that may affect my travel plans, either the ferry to Newfoundland or my flight back home through Halifax (or both).

On the other hand, signs now appear in both English and Gaelic,

you can get interesting fare,

Intro to Cape Breton 2

(although some menu items are definitely odd)

On the other hand, a woman who noticed my MS Bike Tour apparel spontaneously offered me a donation. There's also a pleasant view from our campsite.

And I still have the Cabot Trail to enjoy (or endure, depending on how things go). Let's hope the weather holds...

We Now Resume Irregular Blogging

It looks like I may now have access to a Mac for occasional posting, so I will try and catch up on the last 2 weeks. To expedite things I will post text first and then go back (as I have time) to add photos. You may be amused by the technology I am using: I have taken a photo of the text I had prepared on the now-sick PC (which does not even recognize its USB ports, let alone connect to a wireless network) and will retype what I see on my display.

Day 51
Rest day in Ottawa was anything but - it rained all day, I got laundry done, caught up on blogging, changed tires, bought a new chain and some tubes, etc. And before I knew it it was back to 'work'.

Day 52   
As a concession to those not from Ottawa, here is my requisite shot of Parliament that also captures the rush-hour traffic we had to contend with as we wended our way through construction zones out of downtown.

We ultimately retreated to some of the bike paths (technically "mixed use recreational pathways") the National Capital Commission is famous for,

then it was off through the eastern suburbs before meeting TdC 2007 riders Doug, Martin, and Milaine who offered us baked goods at the ferry crossing across the Ottawa river into Quebec.

One Way to Know You're in Quebec

Another Way To Tell

Both 'Ottawa Bob' and I had previously questioned the wisdom of a route that included highway 148 (in fact we both thought it would be almost suicidal), but it turned out to be quite enjoyable, with an ample shoulder,

and it gave people the chance to experience the Chateau Montebello (and its famed buffet, if they so chose).

Many kilometres, an ample cloudburst, and another ferry crossing later our route took us right past Marie-Andree's house, and she (having ridden ahead in the deluge the day before) greeted us with lemonade and cookies;

her friends later provided us with a fantastic pot-luck dinner at the campground. But I am dismayed to note that Hudson's roads remain mostly in the same deplorable state they were in when I rode through in 1994.

Day 53
Our route today took us past 3 rivers, each offering pleasant views.  Leaving Hudson we first travelled along the Ottawa,

and then followed the St. Lawrence on the island of Montreal, past many areas where I misspent my youth.

I then made a detour to visit my 90-year-old mother before spending a bit of time in Old Montreal (where the rest of the gang had been exploring all afternoon).

What, you were expecting the usual tourist shot of Place Jacques Cartier or Marche Bonsecours?

Then it was across the Jacques Cartier bridge and on to the south shore and a voyage along the banks of the Richelieu to our campsite in Mont St. Hilaire, one of several volcanic nubs that rise up out of the flat terrain.

The tremors we felt later that night, however, were not seismic in origin but the result of trains passing close to our campground. Some folks complained they didn't sleep well, but trains don't bother me (in fact I rather like them).

Day 54
Yet another sunny, wind-assisted, short riding day! We started off with a gorgeous ramble in a cycling lane adjacent to the river that sadly ended (the lane, not the river) once past the access road to the freeway.

The road then was hit-and-miss, at times bucking like a  wild horse - forcing my focus to be on the pavement rather than the passing scenery - and other times smooth. Fortunately I had placed my banana in a protective sheath and managed to avoid making a puree of my mid-morning snack. We crossed the river by ferry at Sorel-Tracy,

En attendant le bateau

and then enjoyed a wind-assisted ride through the countryside to the vicinity of Trois Rivieres, scampering across a railway bridge when the one we were supposed to take was found to be closed for (re)construction.

However, as our campsite was about 10km out of town (i.e. 20 km round-trip, with the return leg into a headwind), I chose not to explore the region further. A photographer from the local paper did, however, drop in to get our story.

Days 55, 56
We started the day in a cloud, picking up morning traffic as we headed through Trois Rivieres.

And we had made page 17!

We passed the old St.Maurice ironworks (a national historic site) still in the mist and not yet open for the day, but by the time we reached the cathedral at Notre Dame du Cap the skies were clear. The rest of the day was then just one very long ramble along the river past endless fields of corn.

As we near the sea, the ocean's effect on the river becomes noticeable 

 In Neuville (just outside Quebec) local resident Sylvie and fellow TdC 2009 rider Renee-Lise (the latter hailing from Montreal) treated us to some cooked up at a farm/stand that has been operating for 12 generations (since 1669. When Champlain wanted a cob, this must have been where he went).

We finally left the high shore and entered Quebec through Cap Rouge, but when the picturesque view presented itself I was descending at 56 km/hr and chose not to slam on the brakes and capture it. Grinding up the even steeper other side in heavy traffic precluded taking any photos there, either, so here is my lame shot taken from a subsequent highway overpass, suggesting we have arrived (and not doing justice to Quebec).

After a brief delay getting into our rooms at Universite Laval, we demolished the delivered pizzas and then set off to attend the nightly (and free!) Cirque du Soleil performance held downtown beneath the elevated expressways. It lasted over an hour and was quite impressive, making excellent use of an otherwise wasted public space.

Speaking of which, you can get very large bottles of beer here (compare the Bud to the Stella).

Day 57
Another day of free Air Miles, starting with a very civilized descent along a bike path to the ferry terminal,

with a similarly good route waiting on the other side.

When the pathways ended, the road was mostly good, although I did almost T-bone some knucklehead in Montmagny who remained totally oblivious as he turned in front of me, even as I shouted to get his attention. I dropped down to visit the river in Berthier-Sur-Mer,

checked out a motorcycle museum (which was a bit limited in scope and had some notable omissions, but was a nice local effort nonetheless), and (unwisely, as it turned out) chose to end the day on a (gravel) bike path rather than keep to the nicely-shouldered highway.

Getting to see the eel-traps was hardly sufficient consolation.

Day 58
It had to happen sooner or later: today was Not a Good Day. In addition to the cold wind and fog and 'quilted' (i.e. patched so much it was almost cobbled) road,

You can see the fog; you can't feel the wind (but look at the bent grass)

The fog returned with a vengeance later that day

I not only developed a slow leak whose source I couldn't locate on the road (I ultimately found it by submerging the tube in water and looking for bubbles) , but my pump broke, leaving me stranded until others came by to assist. We made it back to camp stopping several times to reinflate my tire, and as if that wasn't enough, that night's leftovers were thrown out before I was able to claim 'seconds'. Like I said, Not a Good Day. Despite the brewery stop. This river pretty much sums up the sentiment.

Day 59
Things didn't start so well the next day, either: I sproinged my back getting into the truck in the morning chill, and the pain only got worse as the day progressed. But the morning fog

slowly gave way to warmth, then wind, then wind and fog,

then wind and sunshine,

I'm casting a shadow!

then more wind and fog,

and even an RBT

until  we finally turned south to get away from it (of course we didn't have that much choice: we were starting to run out of continent to the east). Before that, though, there was plenty of riverfront scenery.

After the turn there were windmills

climbs,

(plus another almost-collision as some doorknob  reversed up a hill then stopped as an oncoming car approached, only moving forward to start a right turn just as I was coming up on the shoulder, which was the only path left available to me), and even a water slide.

And as the wind died we were left to consider what lay before us.

Day 60
The day emerged as decent, despite my still-sore back and a doubtful start that questioned the depiction of the route as "payback" for yesterday's effort against the wind. We started in dense fog that hid most of the hills (and rough roads) we had to climb - and also the stop sign at the intersection with a highway that suddenly appeared out of the mist.

As the sun ultimately appeared, I suffered through only marginally-better road conditions before ultimately choosing to return to the parallel highway route. We then enjoyed a beautiful descent along the banks of the Matapedia and Restigouche Rivers, which were as pretty as I had remembered from 16 years ago; my only lament was that this time there was no-one fly fishing (nor other riders nearby) to liven any photographs.

Across the bridge and we were into New Brunswick,

and a  couple of late-day climbs brought us into our campsite at a ski-hill, my back showing some improvement for the effort, but still tender.

Day 61
The start of the day was foreboding, with overcast skies and then suddenly a cool wind, but it ultimately unfolded into glorious sunshine and good roads. After the requisite stop for the Big Salmon in Campbellton,

we parallelled the river (which was still brooding, but whose misty veil had a sharp demarcation)

along perfect roads leading us past more riparian views

to Dalhousie, and the only hill whose memory had stuck with me from 1994. This year it didn't seem so bad, perhaps because I knew it would be there. And then after a beachside picnic in Jacquet River,

Out of Quebec, a different style of church emerges

I limped in to our similarly-located campsite, content to take it easy on a short day.

But the going rate for a simple postcard here seems to be $1!!

Day 62
Today was another better day than anticipated - one that started rather 'moist', albeit still warm - but which ultimately (after several foggy and misty interludes) - gave way to only overcast skies with still-moderate temperatures.

The roads were exceptional, and the good news was that my gear cable broke only after I had done the hard climbing for the day.

Me and the jury-rigged repair

Closeup of the repair as the new cable gets threaded

And we had lobster for dinner.

Day 63
A rest day spent installing a new gear cable and hunched over a computer - I am now finally caught up in my blog!