I Can See Clearly Now - NOT!

I am writing from a grammatically wanting location, an adjectival place in search of a noun - the town of Spanish (which has a great marina facility, where we are encamped). It is almost our last stop before we return to the teeming masses of Southern Ontario, and our sojourn here at the marina highlights the start of our transition from highway-based to water-based travel. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Day 39
We left Wawa in a bit of a fog (and it was quite misty, too), which precluded any great lake (or Great Lake) views.

The requisite views at Old Woman Bay were not as impressive as they might have been

as the lake clung to its humid shroud.

This gave me time to ponder inanities such as gender-specific outhouses - they're both just holes in the ground, so why bother differentiating them?

But I digress. Lunch was spent at the pleasant Katherine Cove, where it appeared the morning fog might burn off.

Indeed, it became so hot that I changed my plans at the last minute and decided to descend to the Agawa pictographs in hopes of filling my water bottle. Alas, the site had no running water but I figured since I was already there I would hike down the rocky 400m trail (note: not recommended with cycling shoes) and see if my outlook had changed in 16 years. It hadn't - I still don't get too excited about pictographs, but for those who do, here's a sample.

And the climb back out to the highway wasn't as bad as it had seemed on the way in. Plus, I was looking forward to the 3km descent (with attendant viewpoints) at Montreal River. Too bad the weather socked in again; things finally lifted enough for me to catch this scene somewhat further down the road.

By the time we approached our campsite at Pancake Bay, though, the sun had emerged and we finally caught a glimpse of the beauty that had eluded us previously.

Strangely, although a violent storm passed through in the night, the heat and humidity remained.



Day 40
And so it was that once again we set off in fog,

ultimately leaving the Lake at the Soo, but not before tackling Mile High Hill. OK, so the name is a bit of an exaggeration, but it is a somewhat formidable climb (the view here is only part way up - taken because there was a post I could strap my camera to and use the self-timer. As you can see, turning around and getting myself into the frame proved to be a problem, and even though after several attempts another cyclist had emerged in the distance,  I decided it would take too long to wait for him so I moved on).

The morning`s ride was swift, smooth, and pleasant and just before leaving the main highway I took this requisite shot of a Big Tourist Thing

And then veered northward. In the distance I could see a road rising majestically above the valley and anticipated what was to come, but ever-hopeful chose not to capture the image. Sure enough, our route took us through what was euphemistically called rolling terrain over pavement that I would term `not suitable for cycling`, but the road swooped and twisted

 The terrain, but more importantly the pavement!

and the scenery was very reminiscent of backwoods Vermont

with huge climbs descending into broad valleys. Had my internal organs not been displaced by the incessant pounding delivered by the rough road, and had temperatures not been so oppressive, I would have enjoyed this. Fortunately, the end of the day featured a return to Highway 17 - we had had to skirt a section closed to bicycles - and the smooth pavement and gentle tailwind led us to another gorgeous beach campsite.
And just so you know, that rain actually bypassed us (although not by much).

Day 41
As distinct from previous Free Miles, today`s strong tailwinds gave us S`miles - not just speed (albeit on a fairly busy highway), but wonderful scenery as well as we enjoyed Lake Huron`s North Shore. The Big Tourist Thing below was actually right beside our campsite, so you could say it properly belongs in yesterday`s account, but it fits better with today`s mood.

We started with typical views in Thessalon

and then enjoyed some stunning roadside scenes (and I bet these canoeists were enjoying the downstream breeze as well)

Having arrived early and set up camp at the Spanish marina ("no one expects the Spanish marina"?), I set off on the hiking trail to discover this not-so-tell-tale indication we are approaching Georgian Bay: rocky islands and trees that clearly indicate the direction of the prevailing winds.

 And so we will be off tomorrow to Manitoulin Island, our last grasp at sanity before a return to what passes for civilization.