Day 36-Terrace Bay
Nipigon to Terrace Bay, Ontario
Distance: 108km
Temp: cold!
Today’s ride finally delivered on the promise of the hills-we climbed 1030 meters today; the hills ranged in distance from 2 to 5 km, but there was one section after lunch, and on the last 40 km that was on a more or less incline for approximately 12 km-it just kept going and going-legs were heavily objecting by the end of it.
To compensate for the challenging terrain, the scenery was pretty spectacular as the hills seemingly lifted us into the clouds, and had us at such heights that we had incredible views of Lake Superior and the surrounding areas-this is definitely postcard country.
Of late my bike has started to make very curious noises; I took it into to see Bike Guru in Thunder Bay, and had my bottom bracket changed, however the groaning noises have stopped but now it’s squeaking.
As there were often no other noises to hear beside the wind in our ears, and the squeak of my bike, the mind starts to do odd things, like interpret the squeaks for songs; Lewis heard La Bamba, and I heard ‘Pop Goes the Weasel.’
Today was not only a big hill day, but also a big eating day; we stopped at a roadside restaurant and had a homemade piece of rhubarb-strawberry pie-it was heavenly.
40 km later we stopped in Rossport, an ex-fishing village which sits in a little natural harbor on the lake and had lunch at a restaurant looking over the lake; the food was pretty good, but the views were better.
Following lunch was the 12 km climb, giving us the opportunity to work for our lunch.
We got into camp at a decent time, giving us the chance to check out some local waterfalls that are used for a hydro station or something like that.
Apparently we’re back in bear country; a few people saw one yesterday, and some have been sighted in the past few camps we’ve stayed at.
Last night Lewis had a restless sleep, as he was on semi-bear watch.
At one point he shot up out of his sleeping bag, convinced that one was lurking outside our tent, waiting for a juicy arm or leg to come out of the tent.
As it turns out it was our neighbor going to the bathroom.
Personally I think these bears are like spiders, they are more scared of us than we are of them (wee black ones’, I would feel differently about grizzlies.)
We all feel very much at home at this campsite as there is a train than runs right beside it, so far two have come by since we got in, each one outdoing the other for volume and length of the whistle blow.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Day 35-Nipigon
Thunder Bay, to Nipigon
Distance: 109 km
Temp: 27 degrees
We kept hearing from people about how bad the hills were; we were warned by the organizer, as well as by all kinds of people along the way About The Hills.
We all worked ourselves into a frenzy about today’s ride, which as it went along, only delivered little ‘hilletts’-nothing too substantial.
We kept thinking that perhaps the worst of them were saved until the end-but nothing that was worth the hype and hooplah.
I thought that maybe we had ridden such monsters over the course so far, that we had become un-fazable, so fit that monstrous hills no longer had any affect-surely not possible.
Anyhow, we all remained suspicious as although the terrain was certainly challenging, it in no way presented us with the hardship that was promised (although Hedwig certainly had a good go, as we had strong winds for most of the day.)
Since we had all slept so poorly in residence at Lakehead (due to the heat) we were all tired and lazy-it was difficult to get on with the ride.
We rode along a very pretty side-street that ran parallel to the highway, but ran along the Lake Superior shoreline; we got to see very pretty houses that backed onto the water.
On we pressed, often through parts of the highway that were under construction, which meant waiting beside huge trucks before the flag-wavers let us through; once we were waved through, we rode beside huge caravans of massive steam rollers, and rode through wafts of tar steam.
The freshly tarred road had a tacky/sticky feel to it, and was so fresh some of it splashed onto my legs, making it look like I’d been playing in tar pits when I got into camp.
At some point along the highway there was no shoulder to ride on, or if there was it was cracked and unrideable, forcing us onto the road, which was the only host to the many trucks ferrying goods to and from the area.
As mentioned before some trucks are nice under ideal conditions, and some not, under less than ideal conditions (where we all have to share the road) it is quite a scary situation-but we all made it.
Thunder Bay, to Nipigon
Distance: 109 km
Temp: 27 degrees
We kept hearing from people about how bad the hills were; we were warned by the organizer, as well as by all kinds of people along the way About The Hills.
We all worked ourselves into a frenzy about today’s ride, which as it went along, only delivered little ‘hilletts’-nothing too substantial.
We kept thinking that perhaps the worst of them were saved until the end-but nothing that was worth the hype and hooplah.
I thought that maybe we had ridden such monsters over the course so far, that we had become un-fazable, so fit that monstrous hills no longer had any affect-surely not possible.
Anyhow, we all remained suspicious as although the terrain was certainly challenging, it in no way presented us with the hardship that was promised (although Hedwig certainly had a good go, as we had strong winds for most of the day.)
Since we had all slept so poorly in residence at Lakehead (due to the heat) we were all tired and lazy-it was difficult to get on with the ride.
We rode along a very pretty side-street that ran parallel to the highway, but ran along the Lake Superior shoreline; we got to see very pretty houses that backed onto the water.
On we pressed, often through parts of the highway that were under construction, which meant waiting beside huge trucks before the flag-wavers let us through; once we were waved through, we rode beside huge caravans of massive steam rollers, and rode through wafts of tar steam.
The freshly tarred road had a tacky/sticky feel to it, and was so fresh some of it splashed onto my legs, making it look like I’d been playing in tar pits when I got into camp.
At some point along the highway there was no shoulder to ride on, or if there was it was cracked and unrideable, forcing us onto the road, which was the only host to the many trucks ferrying goods to and from the area.
As mentioned before some trucks are nice under ideal conditions, and some not, under less than ideal conditions (where we all have to share the road) it is quite a scary situation-but we all made it.
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