Day 42-Massey, Ontario
Thessalon to Massey
Distance: 130 km
Temp: 26 degrees
So far today’s ride was one of the worst so far; the traffic was horrendous, probably owing to it being a long weekend, but not helping matters was the absence or decayed state of the shoulders (6 inches if we were lucky.)
I have never been more terrified on the bike as I was today, pulling into camp a twisted knot of spent adrenaline and nerves.
The worst moment was when we had a massive SUV overtaking a truck, coming in the other direction, so at the point they passed us we had a tractor-trailer, an SUV, and ourselves sharing a very small road.
This SUV must have been going over 140km/hour trying to pass this truck-so having a heaving mass of metal bulleting towards you at such high speeds gets the heart rate near the red line.
At the last minute we decided to ditch the road, and jump onto the gravel shoulder, forcing us off our bikes.
We were jumping up and down and giving the one-finger-salute we were so mad!
Lewis swore he saw the person in the SUV smiling as they went by.
I just can’t believe the stupidity of these people, obviously they don’t give a crap about us, but you’d think they would figure out how much it would ruin their day if they were to take us out.
The trucks were also especially bad today; every time one went by I found myself gritting my teeth, holding my breath and white knuckling my handlebars---I found I was running out of breath after a while.
A guy was killed on August 31st just a few days ago on the same roads that we’re on now-Highway 17-he wasn’t from our tour, but was near the end of his own ride across Canada-not very encouraging news for us.
We’re all feeling a little shell-shocked and strung out by the traffic and just want this part of the ride to be over.
In other news, we made it through a dinner galley crew without drama!
We still have tomorrow morning to get through but so far so good-perhaps there is even hope for us-the drama team!
I think the rest of the group was slightly disappointed that there wasn’t any night time entertainment.
I forgot to mention that we passed through White River the other day, home of the real Winnie the Pooh!
Saturday, August 5, 2006
Day 41-Thessalon, Ontario
Pancake Bay Provincial Park to Thessalon
Distance: 162 km
Temp: hot
Another hundred-miler today-the hills weren’t as bad as the past few days as we are now out of the Canadian Shield, which is responsible for most of The Big Hills.
We had one really steep and long hill heading into Sault St. Marie (The Soo) which had my muscles gasping for air, reminding me of little baby birds, mouths agape, screaming for food.
We stopped off in the Soo for a free coffee, offered by ‘JJ’ who had done the ‘Tour D’Afrique’ last year; some riders met him at a coffee shop yesterday and they got to chattin’ about his adventure, and ours.
He owns a hotel in town, and obviously felt some camaraderie with us, and offered us the beverage, to which we all gladly agreed.
Afterwards we set out through some of the streets of the town; it’s quite a pretty town.
The ride today was a mix of undulating hills, treed terrain, and open fields-the area is becoming noticeably more populated, as the areas we’ve come from have been quite desolate and sparse.
Overall so far the roads in Ontario have been the worst; today there was often no shoulder, or the tiny shoulder that existed was so cracked and worn they were unrideable, forcing us onto the road with the trucks.
I am not usually a nervous rider in traffic, but these trucks are doing my head in; a couple of times I had to put my breaks on, and ‘white knuckle it’ while they almost brushed up against us-especially when one is passing at the same time in the opposite direction, leaving no room whatsoever for mistakes.
The worst kinds of trucks to pass are the live-stock trucks-I hate that more than anything for a couple of reasons: I hate seeing the pink little noses and ears poking through the slats, and also the smell.
Even worse is when it’s raining, and we get splashed with the guck of pig’s bums and all that-blech!
As a result of seeing these sweet little pink noses sticking out, Lewis has decided that he will no longer eat pork (I don’t eat it either, I used to out of pseudo religious reasons, but now because I also hate seeing them on the trucks.)
Lewis has declared that once he gets home he will cease pork-consumption; in the meantime before we get home, I think he is on a mission to eat an entire pig.
One of the Aussies reported that she had really good ‘Peabody’ bacon the other day (they don’t get Peameal in Australia.)
We all thought it was really cute.
Tonight’s campsite is one of the best so far, not so much because of the facilities, but because of the scenery; we’re on Lake Huron, staying pretty much on the beach-after dinner we sat around a fire and listened to one of our talented musicians strum a few ditties on his gee-tar.
It really was the quintessential camping experience, sitting on a beach at dusk, watching the moon rise, while listening to some good tunes.
Lewis and I set up our tent in what we thought was the perfect spot; we had a gorgeous view of the beach and water, and were sitting in our chairs enjoying the view.
Wouldn’t you know that a couple on the tour came and set up their tent right in front of ours, blocking our view!
I asked if they wouldn’t mind moving their tent over so as to not obstruct our view, but they chose this moment to pretend to not to clearly understand me, as they are French speaking.
It seems their grasp of the English language comes and goes at the most opportunistic of times!
But privacy amongst campers does not exists as we all seem to pretty much set our tents right on top of each other (more so in bear country,) I have offered one guy the chance to set up his tent inside ours, as he seems to like being so close to us-I can’t figure out why though, as I think I know who the ‘phantom-pharter’ is, and suspect he is in my tent!
Pancake Bay Provincial Park to Thessalon
Distance: 162 km
Temp: hot
Another hundred-miler today-the hills weren’t as bad as the past few days as we are now out of the Canadian Shield, which is responsible for most of The Big Hills.
We had one really steep and long hill heading into Sault St. Marie (The Soo) which had my muscles gasping for air, reminding me of little baby birds, mouths agape, screaming for food.
We stopped off in the Soo for a free coffee, offered by ‘JJ’ who had done the ‘Tour D’Afrique’ last year; some riders met him at a coffee shop yesterday and they got to chattin’ about his adventure, and ours.
He owns a hotel in town, and obviously felt some camaraderie with us, and offered us the beverage, to which we all gladly agreed.
Afterwards we set out through some of the streets of the town; it’s quite a pretty town.
The ride today was a mix of undulating hills, treed terrain, and open fields-the area is becoming noticeably more populated, as the areas we’ve come from have been quite desolate and sparse.
Overall so far the roads in Ontario have been the worst; today there was often no shoulder, or the tiny shoulder that existed was so cracked and worn they were unrideable, forcing us onto the road with the trucks.
I am not usually a nervous rider in traffic, but these trucks are doing my head in; a couple of times I had to put my breaks on, and ‘white knuckle it’ while they almost brushed up against us-especially when one is passing at the same time in the opposite direction, leaving no room whatsoever for mistakes.
The worst kinds of trucks to pass are the live-stock trucks-I hate that more than anything for a couple of reasons: I hate seeing the pink little noses and ears poking through the slats, and also the smell.
Even worse is when it’s raining, and we get splashed with the guck of pig’s bums and all that-blech!
As a result of seeing these sweet little pink noses sticking out, Lewis has decided that he will no longer eat pork (I don’t eat it either, I used to out of pseudo religious reasons, but now because I also hate seeing them on the trucks.)
Lewis has declared that once he gets home he will cease pork-consumption; in the meantime before we get home, I think he is on a mission to eat an entire pig.
One of the Aussies reported that she had really good ‘Peabody’ bacon the other day (they don’t get Peameal in Australia.)
We all thought it was really cute.
Tonight’s campsite is one of the best so far, not so much because of the facilities, but because of the scenery; we’re on Lake Huron, staying pretty much on the beach-after dinner we sat around a fire and listened to one of our talented musicians strum a few ditties on his gee-tar.
It really was the quintessential camping experience, sitting on a beach at dusk, watching the moon rise, while listening to some good tunes.
Lewis and I set up our tent in what we thought was the perfect spot; we had a gorgeous view of the beach and water, and were sitting in our chairs enjoying the view.
Wouldn’t you know that a couple on the tour came and set up their tent right in front of ours, blocking our view!
I asked if they wouldn’t mind moving their tent over so as to not obstruct our view, but they chose this moment to pretend to not to clearly understand me, as they are French speaking.
It seems their grasp of the English language comes and goes at the most opportunistic of times!
But privacy amongst campers does not exists as we all seem to pretty much set our tents right on top of each other (more so in bear country,) I have offered one guy the chance to set up his tent inside ours, as he seems to like being so close to us-I can’t figure out why though, as I think I know who the ‘phantom-pharter’ is, and suspect he is in my tent!
Day 40-Pancake Bay, Ontario
Wawa to Pancake Bay Provincial Park
Distance: 163 km
Temp: mild and overcast/rainy
We set out late this morning as we’d stayed in a motel overnight and had to get back to the campsite to take down our tent since we’d set it up anyhow, in case we decided to go back to camp the night before the ride (we decided against it.)
Since we got to camp late, we missed breakfast so ended up eating at a truck-stop with really bad service, putting us even later into the morning.
We were on the road shortly after 10am; hours after the rest of the group had set out.
As mentioned previously, some kilometers come easily, and tick by relatively quickly, and other times it feels as if you have to fight for every one-today was one of those days.
It seemed like the whole ride was uphill (much of it was, at 1220 meters of climbing ) but adding Hedwig to the mix turned the ride into one of the most challenging so far; with all elements conspiring against us, I felt like throwing either myself, the bike, or both over a cliff-mentally I just could not wrap my head around this one.
Even though we have passed the half way point, there is still a huge amount of distance to cover; I try not to think about that too much, as I cannot quite digest it, but one comes up with other ways to break the ride down, like day by day.
However some days, like today seem like an eternity; there are a few different mind games at play to get one through; if it’s a ride in distance around 140km, then after the first 40k, it’s ‘just another hundred to go,’ or conversely, after 100, then just 40 to go, both work quite well.
If it’s a ride like today, around 160km, thinking ‘only 60 to go, then 100’ doesn’t quite work as well, or conversely, 100 done and only 60 to go also doesn’t sound so encouraging, so one has to come up with other inventive ways to get through the tough ride.
Whining and moaning seems to occupy some time, but that has an expiration date as Lewis will only listen to so much, so then I have to internalize it, which isn’t as fun somehow.
One interesting thing that we have been observing along the way are discarded bottles along the side of the road; at first we couldn’t figure out what they were and why they had been scattered along the side of the road; they are the smaller plastic pop bottles with a liquid inside that is clearly not the original pop.
The color of the liquid varies-but is generally an ice-tea color.
Finally, to our horror, we deduced what the contents of the bottles are: pee.
Whose pee?
Truckers’ pee.
The lazy bastards can’t seem to get it together like the rest of us to pee outside, or in a bathroom-ok, so they are on a tight schedule, McDonald’s needs their egg McMuffins, but can’t these people at least hang onto the bottles instead of flinging them out the window for others to come across?
Since my other mind games weren’t working today, I had time to think about this one: these pop bottles are small, how do they aim properly into the bottles while operating a multi-ton truck and not get pee all over themselves?
Perhaps this will explain why some of them seem to swerve in towards us-are they trying to aim their unit into the tiny bottle opening?
Seems plausible.
Or conversely, the numbers of bottles we see are numerous, but are not proportionate to the number of trucks that pass us; in fact the number of bottles seems somewhat proportionate to the number of psychotic drivers who try to scare us/run us off the road.
Could it be that the type of person who pees into a bottle and chucks it out the window is the type of person to try to terrorize us?
Very possible.
Another possible theory: often men’s level of self confidence is tied into the size of their genitalia; could it be possible, that since presumably some of the men can aim their peckers into these pop bottles, they must have small ones’, which, according to the popular theory of small pecker=low self esteem, then these small-peckered men who can fit it into the pop bottles have low self esteem and low confidence, and must thus make up for it in some way, like picking on those who are smaller than them (why do they want to drive such massive trucks, obviously trying to make up for something lacking?) so the most obvious target, are cyclists.
Just a theory.
Another observation is the extremely disturbing find of dirty diapers also tossed from cars-yech; what is wrong with these people that they somehow justify tossing their crappy nappies into the wilderness for others to come across:
”Oh look honey! Another diaper full of crap! How sweet-and look how healthy this child is, getting a diet of corn.”
I think there is some correlation between people who travel long distances and having a low chromosome count-I mean really, what up with all that?
Wawa to Pancake Bay Provincial Park
Distance: 163 km
Temp: mild and overcast/rainy
We set out late this morning as we’d stayed in a motel overnight and had to get back to the campsite to take down our tent since we’d set it up anyhow, in case we decided to go back to camp the night before the ride (we decided against it.)
Since we got to camp late, we missed breakfast so ended up eating at a truck-stop with really bad service, putting us even later into the morning.
We were on the road shortly after 10am; hours after the rest of the group had set out.
As mentioned previously, some kilometers come easily, and tick by relatively quickly, and other times it feels as if you have to fight for every one-today was one of those days.
It seemed like the whole ride was uphill (much of it was, at 1220 meters of climbing ) but adding Hedwig to the mix turned the ride into one of the most challenging so far; with all elements conspiring against us, I felt like throwing either myself, the bike, or both over a cliff-mentally I just could not wrap my head around this one.
Even though we have passed the half way point, there is still a huge amount of distance to cover; I try not to think about that too much, as I cannot quite digest it, but one comes up with other ways to break the ride down, like day by day.
However some days, like today seem like an eternity; there are a few different mind games at play to get one through; if it’s a ride in distance around 140km, then after the first 40k, it’s ‘just another hundred to go,’ or conversely, after 100, then just 40 to go, both work quite well.
If it’s a ride like today, around 160km, thinking ‘only 60 to go, then 100’ doesn’t quite work as well, or conversely, 100 done and only 60 to go also doesn’t sound so encouraging, so one has to come up with other inventive ways to get through the tough ride.
Whining and moaning seems to occupy some time, but that has an expiration date as Lewis will only listen to so much, so then I have to internalize it, which isn’t as fun somehow.
One interesting thing that we have been observing along the way are discarded bottles along the side of the road; at first we couldn’t figure out what they were and why they had been scattered along the side of the road; they are the smaller plastic pop bottles with a liquid inside that is clearly not the original pop.
The color of the liquid varies-but is generally an ice-tea color.
Finally, to our horror, we deduced what the contents of the bottles are: pee.
Whose pee?
Truckers’ pee.
The lazy bastards can’t seem to get it together like the rest of us to pee outside, or in a bathroom-ok, so they are on a tight schedule, McDonald’s needs their egg McMuffins, but can’t these people at least hang onto the bottles instead of flinging them out the window for others to come across?
Since my other mind games weren’t working today, I had time to think about this one: these pop bottles are small, how do they aim properly into the bottles while operating a multi-ton truck and not get pee all over themselves?
Perhaps this will explain why some of them seem to swerve in towards us-are they trying to aim their unit into the tiny bottle opening?
Seems plausible.
Or conversely, the numbers of bottles we see are numerous, but are not proportionate to the number of trucks that pass us; in fact the number of bottles seems somewhat proportionate to the number of psychotic drivers who try to scare us/run us off the road.
Could it be that the type of person who pees into a bottle and chucks it out the window is the type of person to try to terrorize us?
Very possible.
Another possible theory: often men’s level of self confidence is tied into the size of their genitalia; could it be possible, that since presumably some of the men can aim their peckers into these pop bottles, they must have small ones’, which, according to the popular theory of small pecker=low self esteem, then these small-peckered men who can fit it into the pop bottles have low self esteem and low confidence, and must thus make up for it in some way, like picking on those who are smaller than them (why do they want to drive such massive trucks, obviously trying to make up for something lacking?) so the most obvious target, are cyclists.
Just a theory.
Another observation is the extremely disturbing find of dirty diapers also tossed from cars-yech; what is wrong with these people that they somehow justify tossing their crappy nappies into the wilderness for others to come across:
”Oh look honey! Another diaper full of crap! How sweet-and look how healthy this child is, getting a diet of corn.”
I think there is some correlation between people who travel long distances and having a low chromosome count-I mean really, what up with all that?
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