Day 27
Portage La Prairie to Beausejour, Manitoba
Distance: 164 km
Hot, with side/headwind

Today, another near mental breakdown, this time thanks to Lewis leaving his saddle pack partly unzipped.
It was a tough ride, owing partly to the long week we’ve had so far, partly to the endless sameness of the scenery, partly to the length of the ride, partly due to the uncooperative ‘Wig’ family, partly to Lewis being drained and not having any energy in his legs, and not being able to do as much pulling as usual, and partly to my mind still grasping the vastness of the country, and how many more miles we had to do.
So much background, such a simple catalyst; he didn’t zip the saddle bag so as he road along on a bumpy road, the top of the bag bounced with every bump, momentarily opening to reveal a bouncing banana being flung around inside the bag.
It looked like a big gaping mouth opening and shutting; somehow it struck me as weave-all-over-the road, almost into oncoming traffic, crying squeals of hilarity kind of funny. The kind of funny that had you squirt milk from your nose as a kid, or get sent out of the classroom.
The sillier it seemed, the more I laughed and could not stop.
Poor Lewis didn’t know what was happening; I had to eventually stop my bike for fear of falling off.
I felt much better afterwards as was obviously feeling quite worked up about today’s ride, and the next, and the one after that.
Thankfully the day after tomorrow is a rest day (not before another 173 km ride tomorrow.)
Surprisingly the ride today was advertised on the map as the ‘flattest ride of the tour’. Even though, the winds worked their stuff to make it challenging.

We did have a fantastic mid-ride meal at a quaint little tea house in Stonewall. As we rode into the town, we thought it looked as if the houses had been put up overnight; everything looked so new.
However things were much older once we got into the town centre, as this house was inhabited by Canada’s youngest solider to be awarded with the Victoria Cross medal for bravery, as he shot down a bunch of planes during the war, and then ended up being killed himself by disease on returning home at the age of 19. I believe the house is called McLeod House, and is run by some ladies who obviously have a fine appreciation for tea.
Not surprisingly the Aussies sniffed it out immediately and were in heaven; good tea at last (they always come back to camp with some story of a thwarted tea experience.)
We had a very civilized experience, (although perhaps not as much felt by the others there, as we were all dressed in our cycling garb, and didn’t quite fit in with the blue-haired crowd-too bad, we were enjoying ourselves too much to notice.)
We had chicken salad sandwiches and soup; the chicken salad had dried cranberries in it, and the soup was very wholesome and home made.
I had an exotic blend type tea (I think caramelized Macintosh apples with some other herb).
The waitress tried, and successfully tempted Lewis with their home-made, made with fresh lemons, lemon meringue pie.
We later stopped at the most significant posting and fort for the Hudson Bay Company in Western Canada; Fort Gerry, which had a bunch of students dressed in period costume, re-enacting life back in the 1800’s.
All took on the roles very seriously and would only answer questions in the present-tense; when asked what one woman was knitting/weaving, she replied that she was making it for her friend’s wedding.
Someone asked if she was making it for real, or for her pretend-friend in the 1800’s, and she responded that it was for her friend Gretta, who lived two doors down, and was getting married in a couple of weeks.
We’re still not sure if Gretta is really getting married, or if she only exists back in The Olden Days.
We also learned the origins of ‘flash in the pan,’ ‘lock, stock, and barrel,’ and ‘mad as a hatter.’
The 1800’s was rich ground for today’s idioms and adages.

It was 4:15pm by this time, and we still had 40km to go before camp; it had been a long day, what with high tea, and Gretta’s wedding, so we had to make head way for camp.
Since I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch time, I bonked/energy crashed about 20km from camp.
I was determined not to stop; out of pure desperation to get back.
The last few km were hard enough, on rough gravelly road, and with having to contend with the absence of any fuel in my tank.
I got home on pure willpower alone; good to know it will act as my reserve tank when needed.

Some more drama unfolded at dinner time; turns our Button Pusher not only pushes mine, but also 25 others as well.
He hates music while camping, and while we were all enjoying some dinner time music, he demanded that it be turned off.
The argument quickly devolved into an all out name calling session between a few of the riders; it was actually quite entertaining, and I was glad that for once it was others involved with him and not me.
Tomorrow we will have to have a group meeting to discuss our feeling, our sentiments, and how it reminds of when we were kids on the playground when we were left out of the childhood games, or made us get hit, or hit Sally/Jimmy/Mindy.

It’s funny how worked up we all get over such silly things, but it does act as a good distraction, and provide entertainment for most of us.