Bicycle Trip Part 4....You Never Know Who You Will Meet


    I may have to post two more blogs to finish this bike story off, there is just so much to say about the trip and to cut off this story line too soon would not do the trip justice. So many pages in my journal describe scenery so I should mention what a beautiful country we live in. Many other pages written describe the misery of being tired and in pain; at times people asked me about riding sores and I did not go into detail with them but yes there were large riding sores. When one is approaching a large hill they must pedal as hard as they can in a high gear, once that gets tough you stand up pedaling, when that gets too tough you slam down on the seat and lower one gear....just to do it all over again; this is how a cyclist keeps momentum and climbs a hill. When I slammed down on the seat it was often on a riding sore; not pleasant.
  I had a dream (nightmare) one night about a truck, just before it hit me I woke up sweating. How I coped with the constant danger was to put a sad joke in my journal, sad because it was too real. "A couple is at home talking to their child who wants to go bike riding with her friend. The dad is insistent that he does not want her to go, when asked why he says, I do not want to risk having you passed by truckers like me." I often thought if I were a truck drivers son that he would find a way to either slow down, move over, or at least not lay on the horn as a warning to get off the road.....that was 1984 though, times have changed.
   On my way to Hamilton I took the Manitoulin Island route so I could see my sister, my mother and father ended up to be there and the first thing they said was something about my weight loss, I probably had about 5% body fat or less. My mother suggested that she give me a ride to Hamilton and I said I couldn't, after I was done with the visit I took the ferry off of Manitoulin and headed to Hamilton. Since this was supposed to be my main destination I stayed for a visit of 19 days. During that 19 days I put many kms on the bike, I guessed at least 1,000 - 1,500. My visit was great but I had unfinished business.....to get to St Johns.
   I look back on things now and realize how foolish I was to head towards Newfoundland on August the 20th.....I just never thought about the circumstances (cold). Just outside of Kingston, Ontario I was told that Steve Fonyo was running down the expressway, I was going to take highway 2 but I detoured and met up with him. Since he is from Vernon, BC we conversed about what he could expect out west. He had his police escort, winnibego's, and many people collecting donations, I felt that he did not seem very happy....he was in for a long haul.
   Jumping ahead..........,I met some hospitable people, like the Howe's who invited me to stay at their log home when they saw me sleeping in the laundromat....the nights were getting too cold. The next night I tossed and turned from the cold, I could not stand it, I basically stayed awake waiting for daylight. There are all kinds of noises in the forest, I even grabbed my knife on a couple of occasions. The New Brunswick province had terrible roads, I got 4 flat tires in one day, the roads were bumpy, it was windy, not a day to be cycling; the scenery was nice though. The 200 km day from Calais to east of Sussex was rewarding for the ride on the coast highway.
   I had a good mileage day with a twist, I wanted to reach Antigonish which was 220 kms from my starting point. It started to get dark and I saw a truck at a crossroads so I asked the guy how far the town was, or the nearest phone (I had to phone my parents to ask them to forward me some money). This guy and his friend were drinking and he asked me if I wanted to come to his place and use his phone, plus have dinner. I obliged and ended up at his place, his wife, who was very nice, asked me if I wanted a shower before we ate, I said okay. When I got out of the shower the guy said lets have a drink first, in the middle of his drink the guy changed so quickly. All of a sudden he asked me why he should help me out; why wasn't I working instead of peddling my ass off, he always worked but you lazy fucks.
   His wife looked embarrassed as I got up to leave, she apologized as her husband got more agitated. It was dark and had started to rain, I just wanted to get back to the highway and find a place to set up my tent. I was peddling backwards down  a hill when there was a loud snort, hoof sounds on the pavement; I saw the shadow of a moose just before it went crashing through the forest.
    First thing I thought of in the morning after my poor sleep was that even when I am sore all over, or if it is raining, or both, at least I had the beauty to let my mind wander.