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Day 58: Thursday August 26, 1999 - Petit Rocher through
Miramichi to St-Louis-de-Kent
Distance: 151 km; Climb: 808 m; Drop: 748
m
Campground at Petit Rocher the
night before
We awoke to our warmest morning yet and watched a splendid sunrise
on the beach which several people tried to capture on film. Martin
and Jeff had slept on the beach under an almost full moon. As we
prepared to leave, we grumbled about the tough ride ahead because we
knew that our route passed directly through tree and hill country
along a main highway away from the coast as the shoreline ride would
have taken us two days rather than one.
We road along the fairly busy highway on a good two-foot paved
shoulder but there were many big trucks and we suffered from the
heat, the noise and the boring scenery of endless scrub forest. There
were no habitations for the 70 km from Bathurst to Miramichi. A
couple of the hills were huge. We decided to put our noses to the
grind stone and rode like crazy, passing many other riders on the
way.
On the big high bridge which crosses from Miramichi to Chatham, we
caught up to Fast Dave for the second time and he told us that he was
surprised at how fast we were. We told him that it was because there
was nothing to stop for or look at. We stopped with him for lunch on
the grass in Chatham and the traditional milkshake and then continued
on to camp where we arrived just past 3 p.m., the earliest ever for
us on a long day and before most of the others. We were able to get a
laundry done, showers taken and tent pitched before preparing dinner.
It was our turn this day and we served corn on the cob, veggie and
meat burgers and leftover minestrone soup. It had been another tough
day mainly because of the boring ride.
Day 59: Friday August 27, 1999 - St-Louis-de-Kent to Parlee Beach
in Shediac
Distance: 90 km; Climb: 108 m; Drop: 100
m
Yet another fine day. Originally this was to have been a rest day
but the group turned it into a cycling day in order to be able to
stop at Adélard's cottage at Parlee Beach near Shediac, not at
all far from our route. We had decided to have a lobster party in the
backyard.
The ride from camp to Bouctouche was quite a quiet one along
Highway 134 and we stopped in Richibouctou to but a water bottle
holder replacement for Gilbert. At Bouctouche, we discovered that the
library opened at noon, only 45 minutes later, so we ate our
sandwiches on a bench overlooking the waterfront and facing the
Village de la Sagouine. We had enjoyed a visit to this historic
village several years ago. We were lucky at the library: Internet
access was only $1 and from 12 to 1, it was available. It proved to
be the fastest and smoothest connection yet on the ride so we were
successful in sending out messages to our respective lists. Here's
what I wrote:
Date: Fri, 27 Aug 1999 08:28:18 -0700 (PDT)
From: Claudia Rock <claudia_rock@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bouctouche
Hi Everyone/Bonjour a tous,
First a letter in English and then a copy of what Gilbert sent
out in French from Riviere du Loup; the last time we used the net,
Yahoo was not working for a group mailing.
We have had excellent weather since Montreal with only the
minorest of sprinkles last night just as we were going to bed.
It's been hot and summery and we've been consuming litres and
litres of liquid. I tell you that those showers at the end of the
day are great.
We've just completed three long and difficult days although the
first two had excellent scenery along the St. Lawrence River and
then down the Matapedia Valley. The first day we rode 190 km, the
next over 170 and yesterday 150. Luckily we had some interesting
stops along the way - one in Ste-Luce (note pour les Morin et al :
ici on peut prendre la vieille route qui longe le fleuve et il y a
toutes sortes de belles petites auberges et restaurant - c'est
tranquil et tres agreable! ) where we stopped at an old mill
converted into a restaurant and had a delicious meal of mussels in
mustard sauce for Gilbert and in pesto/cream sauce for
me.
The Matapedia Valley was very picturesque but quite hilly in
spots and we had to pedal hard. Yesterday we left the coast of New
Brunswick to go from Bathurst to Mirramichi on our way to St.
Louis de Kent, just past Kouchibouguac National Park and the ride
was hilly and boring for at least 60 km through what I call scrub
forest. At least we had a bit of a paved shoulder to ride on
because we shared the highway with all the trucks and it is always
a stressful situation especially with the noise and wind drag they
make.
Two evenings ago in a campsite in the small town of Petit
Rocher, Adelard Boudreau's family (he is one of our riders and
also one of 12 or 13 children) prepared a wide variety of Acadian
food for the group for our evening meal. It was wonderful and much
appreciated and we all ate too much!!! What a great gesture.
Our group has become quite fragmented because people have very
different bike riding philosophies. Some people are only on this
trip to ride. They look at the pavement and are content to get
from point A to point B in the fastest time possible. Others would
like to enjoy the scenery a little more and would prefer a more
scenic to a less scenic route. Many of us find more than 100 km
too much for an enjoyable day. This entire ride has not really
been recreational; it is really a lot more strenuous than made out
to be.
Tonight we are having a lobster and seafood party at Adelard's
cottage in Shediac. Should be fun. Then we'll really be on the
home stretch - only 7 more days to go.
Best wishes to all,
Claudia
After lunch we decided to take a more scenic route along the coast
but the pedaling became difficult as a headwind began to blow and it
grew in strength. The going became quite tough until we made a 90
degree turn at Shediac, a very picturesque and attractive town with a
huge lobster at the entrance. The last part of the ride to
Adélard's was much easier and we arrived at about 3 p.m. and
pitched our tent with the others on the back lawn.
Camping in Adélard's
backyard at Parlee Beach
We had a lovely feast of lobster with some of our group tasting
them for the first time. Then we went for a walk on Parlee Beach - a
simply magnificent beach as nice as any I've seen. The water on our
feet and lower legs felt warm and the sand was clean and unspoiled. A
gentleman sang operatic arias in one of the restrooms. Later in the
evening, the clouds turned various shades of pink and purple against
a blue sky and for about twenty minutes, we witnessed the most
spectacular sunset of the entire trip.
Dark had fallen when we got to Adélard's and we joined the
others around a roaring campfire. We went to bed at about 10 p.m. but
both awoke at 3:30 a.m. to hear Ray still talking loudly with one of
Adélard's nieces, a nurse, who had worked under Ray's sister
in a Montreal hospital. What a small world!
Day 60: Saturday August 28, 1999 - Parlee Beach to Murray
Corner
Distance: 50 km; Climb: 108 m; Drop: 100
m
I awoke at 7:30 a.m. after strange dreams: people were after Robyn
and Leon and I was trying to hide and protect them. The sky was
unstable and it had rained a few drops during the night. Wally and
crew prepared pancakes with real maple syrup and everyone was relaxed
because we had such a short ride ahead of us. Gilbert and I decided
to leave fairly early because of the unstable weather. We had a
crosswind and then a tailwind on our ride.
We stopped at Tim Horton's with the others and later everyone
cheered when we saw the Confederation Bridge off in the distance - we
felt that we had made it to the coast at this point.
Confederation Bridge to P.E. I.
Then we continued our quiet ride to the camp where we arrived at
noon. We felt lucky that we had made the effort to make a lunch
because there was no store at this park and we had quite a wait
before the truck arrived. We walked around this small provincial park
and noted that its beach was not half as nice as the one at
Parlee.
The truck pulled in at 2:30 p.m. and we pitched our tent in a
heavy wind while clouds whizzed by overhead. The we showered and went
for a pleasant stroll along the beach. Afterwards, I caught up on my
journal entries. supper consisted of gnocchi in tomato sauce, fresh
bread, noodle salads, cottage cheese, tuna fish and some excellent
desserts that Adélard's friends and work buddies had made.
Adélard and his family and friends certainly provided us with
a most wonderful welcome to New Brunswick.
We talked about the days to come in P.E. I.: a 76 km day followed
by a 141 km day and wished the two were more balanced. Jackie and
Dave told us that they planned to stop in Charlottetown rather than
ride to Brackley Beach because they would like to visit this city and
that would be pretty impossible on a 141 km day. Once again, I was
glad that we had already visited Canada because missing as many of
the important cities and points of interest that we had during this
crossing would have been a great source of frustration to me had I
not already seen them. The following day we would take the shuttle
across the Confederation Bridge. Eva was sporting a well-developed
case of poison ivy on one of her legs.
Day 61: Sunday August 29, 1999 - Murray Corner to Brackley Beach,
P.E.I.
Distance: 78 km; Climb: 208 m; Drop: 100
m
We got up to cloudy skies and slight mist but it looked like it
would clear up so not many people packed rain gear. Since it was a
short ride, no one was in a hurry to leave. We rode the 18 km to the
Confederation Bridge at a quiet pace with Roger and Martin. All the
others who had left earlier were still waiting for the shuttle. We
must have been at least 15 people when it finally arrived and
embarked the first seven cyclists of our group and their bikes. We
laughed when Martin used the coffee machine without a cup; I bought
him another one. The shuttle came back for us a half hour later and
as we left, Eva and her brother, Tomaslov, who had joined us in
Shediac, arrived just as the skies opened up in a real downpour.
Although we could see over the bridge sides, it was raining too hard
to actually see anything at all.
The crossing was uneventful but afterwards it continued to rain at
Borden and we bemoaned the fact that we didn't have all our rain
gear. Luckily there was an attractive shopping centre, set up in the
style of a prim and proper country village so we were able to find
shelter from the elements. Since we couldn't see the Tim Horton's at
first glance, we ducked into a Subway restaurant for a coffee and
muffin. Both Gilbert and I continued to feel chilly from the
dampness. It was about 11:30 a.m. at this time. We had an interesting
conversation with an American couple on a motorcycle
vacation.
The sky started to clear so we began to think about leaving with
the plan to stop Jen to get the missing rain gear when she drove
past. Just as we pulled out, we looked back one last time and saw
that the truck was just pulling in. We picked up some warm clothes
and extra rain gear and then set off. No matter what I did, I
couldn't get my odometer to work and for some reason, this made the
day's ride seem twice as long as it actually was.
A short while later, more clouds and rain rolled in so we stood
under a tree in front of someone's yard and ate our sandwiches while
waiting for another clear patch. The countryside became progressively
hillier and I regretted not going to Charlottetown with Jackie and
Dave whose riding itinerary had cut numerous kilometers off the
distances to be ridden in P.E.I.
I just couldn't find any energy to pedal up the hills; perhaps it
was because there were no interesting views at the top, just more
hills, and the day seemed grey and dreary. I figured that we must be
riding over the hilliest and most boring section of P.E.I. One car
after another drove past us and the road surface in some places was
so bad that you had to put the breaks on going downhill. What a drag
this day was for me! I wondered what I would do the following day
when we would be riding double the distance. I knew that several
others in the group were feeling the same way as I and were just
dying for the entire trip to be finished because we'd had enough. I
did get a chuckle from some of the town names, though. How would you
like to live in a place called Toad (Crapaud)? Or may you would
prefer to come from the town of Mouse (Souris)?
Finally we arrived at Brackley Beach and the sky cleared. We found
ourselves immediately in an insect war zone the likes of which we had
not experienced anywhere else on the trip. Thousands of voracious
bloodthirsty mosquitoes waged an all-out attack on us during our
stay. As soon as we left the actual camp site to walk along the
beach, the mosquitoes seemed to disappear and we headed for the
showers that were located at the main entrance to the park (i.e. far
from our site).
Brackley Beach,
P.E.I.
Later we saw a fox on our way down to the beach to check out the
sunset.
Gilbert managed to fix my odometer and I noted at the end of the
day that P.E.I. was very picturesque with lots of gladiolas planted
here and there, freshly painted houses and well-kept lawns and
gardens. But I surely could have done without all the hills!
Day 62: Monday August 30 1999 - Brackley Beach to Lower Barney's
River, Nova Scotia
Distance ridden: 143 km; Climb: 284 m;
Drop: 272 m
I woke up at 6:15 a.m. after weird dreams of Wally catching an owl
and wearing it as a splendid headdress of bluejay feathers and me
running into the wrong house to find a camera. We rolled away our
sleeping gear and tent and breakfasted on eggs and French toast that
Carolyn cooked up under her anti-mosquito headgear and jacket.
Luckily we were able to eat inside a shelter at this campsite. It was
cool but looked as though the day would be fine.
We took off for Charlottetown at around 8 a.m. and were pleasantly
surprised to discover that the hills were much less daunting than we
had been led to expect. We also arrived in Charlottetown much faster
than expected; things were already going well. In Charlottetown, we
made a quick stop at a bicycle shop to replace my broken water bottle
holder, then rode through the rest of the town and made a pit stop at
Tim Horton's before continuing our ride. It was 9:15 a.m. at this
point and we asked an employee how far it was to the Wood Island
ferry. He didn't know but showed us a map and it looked about 40 km
so we decided to try to catch the 11:3 0 a.m. ferry. Otherwise, the
next one would only leave at 1:30 p.m. We decided not to stop for
coffee and left the restaurant at 9:25 a.m.
A short distance later, we saw a road sign indicating 48 km to the
ferry. We didn't know if we could make it as we couldn't tell if the
wind or hills would stop us, but we decided to give it our best
effort. Soon, we rode by Eva and Tomaslov who decided to join us in
our ride against the clock. Later, as the four of us churned the
pedals at full the steam, we passed Burt, Vicky and Dave Foss who
were consulting a map at the side of the road and then Fast Dave who
was fixing a flat. We kept us as fast a pace as we thought we could
hold for two hours.
Then Fast Dave caught up with us and we told him that we were
trying to catch the ferry. Gilbert was able to ride in his draft and
this gave him a psychological and physical boost. Eva drafted
Tomaslov who drafted me. None of us let up although at times we each
wondered if we could sustain the effort.
We finally arrived in Wood Island at 11:10 a.m. and at the ferry
terminal at 11:20 and we cheered and congratulated each other on our
successful efforts. This had been a personal victory for each of us.
We ate our sandwiches and bananas on the ferry and treated ourselves
to the most expensive milkshake of the trip: a Cow's double chocolate
one.
Ferry from P.E.I. to Nova
Scotia
An hour and 20 minutes later, we arrived in Caribou, Nova Scotia
and had no trouble getting to New Glasgow although we found Bud's map
instructions confusing. We couldn't find Highway 4 and decided that
it was probably the 104 that we took after eating a muffin and
drinking a cappuccino at yet another Tim Horton's. We tried the local
library but it was closed on this, a Monday. There was no other
Internet connection available in New Glasgow.
We continued our ride to Lower Barney's River against strong
headwinds for the last hour and got sprinkled on by light rain. We
were the third ones to arrive in camp and the truck arrived quite a
bit later. Isolated showers were predicted that evening followed by
two fine days. I had found the day tough in parts but much more
satisfying than the previous one.
Day 63: Tuesday August 31, 1999 &endash; Lower Barney's River to
St. Peter's, Cape Breton Island
Distance ridden : 160 km; Climb: 148 m;
Drop: 148 m
The wind roared all night and I didn't sleep all that well. The
next morning, Ngaire said that it had changed direction but Leo
didn't thinks so. After a breakfast of bagels and cream cheese
accompanied by eggs, we left and soon discovered that Ngaire was
right, making our ride a lot easier, that is with cross winds and not
headwinds. We even had a bit of a tailwind for a couple of portions
of the ride.
The coast was very picturesque from Lower Barney's River to
Malignant Cove (imagine saying that you lived in a place called
Malignant!); it wasn't too hilly all the way to Antigonish. Once
again, this was a pleasant surprise from what we were expecting. At
Antigonish, we were able to get twenty minutes on the Internet when
Yahoo worked but not Excite. Here is my message:
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1999 06:23:58 -0700 (PDT)
From: Claudia Rock <claudia_rock@yahoo.com>
Subject: Antigonish, Nova Scotia
Hi everyone/Bonjour,
Nous voila a Antigonish en Nouvelle-Ecosse apres un sejour d'un
jour et demi sur l'ile de Prince-Edouard. Malheureusement quand
nous avons traverse le pont de Confederation, il pleuvait fort et
nous n'avons rien vu. Mais le reste du temps il a fait beau, alors
nous sommes tres contents de la temperature.
We've made it to Antigonish, Nova Scotia and we only have two
riding days left after today: Wednesday and Saturday. We've heard
that there is a hurricane near Florida that may be heading up the
coast and might affect the weather in Newfoundland and maybe our
crossing on Friday night. Hope not. Things are well but the rides
are still tough for one reason or another (hills, wind, in a hurry
to catch the ferry, whatever) and we are delighted to think that
we will be finished soon. We had a pretty short stay on P.E.I. and
but we will have travelled in all 10 provinces.
Best regards to all.
Claudia
We found Antigonish a pretty town and had decided to stop for a
coffee when we ran into Eva and Tomaslov who were hungry so we went
to a café and had a Greek omelette. We felt overstuffed when
we left and ended up leaving Eva and Tom behind because the latter
had to make a phone call which he had forgotten to do.
We left the main 104 highway which was noisy and had a cracked
shoulder when we saw a sign marked Cape Breton by old highway 4. This
proved to be a lovely ride through Tracadie and brought us right to
the Canso Causeway. Riding across the causeway was really hairy
because of an almost nonexistent shoulder, strong gusty crosswinds,
ocean spray and lots of traffic including big trucks. I really had to
concentrate hard just to keep a straight course.
On the other side at Port Hawkesbury, we met up with Ali and
Martin.
Martin with Canso Causeway in
background
We learned that the best route to St. Peter's for the remaining 50
km was along the main highway, now actually the old highway to
Sydney. The ride was a nondescript and boring one from this point
on.
Once we had ridden through St. Peter's, though, we couldn't find
the campground. It was no wonder because the name had been changed
and it was on a side road - both important pieces of information that
were lacking on our maps. Many of the riders grumbled again about the
wrong information on the maps that caused us to ride on farther than
we needed to. I felt that this campground was the one most lacking in
soul. It had the most spacious loos and showers of the trip, each
facility being located in a separate wooden building. The facilities
were excellent but the rest of the site struck me as being
particularly empty-feeling.
After an excellent supper of fajitas, we walked with Roger to get
an ice cream. I slept well although I was quite apprehensive of the
road we would have to travel the next day: very hilly and no
shoulder. I dreaded sharing this road with more tractor-trailers.
Day 64: Wednesday September 1, 1999 - St. Peter's to Driftwood
Campground, North Sydney
Distance ridden: 106 km; Climb: 353 m;
Drop: 353 m
We awoke to a beautiful, sunny morning with no wind and my
apprehensions concerning the road seemed less in the broad daylight.
There actually was a small shoulder to ride on and there were so many
hills at the beginning - we must have ridden up twenty in the first
twenty minutes! - that it seemed to take forever just to do 10 km.
After a difficult beginning to our ride, things got better with some
flat spots between the hills. Throughout the morning, we enjoyed some
very scenic vistas as we looked out over Bras d'Or Lake at various
points.
We stopped for a snack after about 30 km and Martin rode up behind
us. He told us that a local had invited him in for coffee and told
him about a horrendous accident that had blocked the road the day
before. A tractor trailer had missed a turn on a downhill and had
plunged over the side of a steep escarpment, killing its 23-year-old
driver. We learned later in the day that the accident had occurred in
the middle of the previous night and that the cleanup had taken so
long because the truck had been carrying medical waste. Unfortunately
it had been the young driver's first week of work. What a shame! I
would not like to drive this particular highway at night even in a
car because it is narrow and treacherous. I found it rather strange
that this stretch of road had given me such bad vibrations before we
actually started to ride it.
We didn't take the traditional break at Rita MacNeil's teahouse,
though many of the others did, but we did stop to eat our lunch at a
provincial picnic spot that was rather disappointing because it
lacked a view and was very nondescript. The ride went well because
there was very little wind and as we approached Sydney, a
self-contained American cyclist from Spokane caught up with us and
chatted about his interesting travels. The hills seemed to disappear
at this point.
As it was only about 1:30 p.m. when we arrived in North Sydney, we
stopped at the library which was right on our route and we both sent
off accounts of our most recent days' experience. Here's
mine:
Date: Wed, 01 Sep 1999 10:46:04 -0700 (PDT)
From: Claudia Rock <claudia_rock@yahoo.com>
Subject: North Sydney, Nova Scotia
Hi Everyone/Bonjour a tous,
We've just arrived in North Sydney, Cape Breton Island after a
good ride through the hills from St. Peter's. We were lucky that
we weren't scheduled to ride yesterday because the highway was
closed due to an accident: a transport trailer plunged over the
side of a hill, killing the 23 year old driver. We passed the spot
today (labeled CONSTRUCTION) and reckon he must have been going
too fast to take the turn. Scary!!! But I counted the number of
big trucks that passed us on that road this morning and it was
less than 1 per 10 km so that isn't bad!!
Yesterday we negotiated the Canso Causeway to cross onto Cape
Breton and it was quite an experience too because the shoulder for
bicycles was almost nonexistent and we had a very strong and gusty
crosswind. We had to cross at the same time as a lot of other
traffic including big trucks so it was a bit of a hairy experience
to say the least. But we made it.
Tomorrow is a rest day and then Friday afternoon we take the
ferry to Argentia, a 14 hour-long trip. From Argentia, we will
ride the last 135 km into St. John's and up Signal Hill. We are
hoping that the wonderful weather we have been experiencing will
last. It is cool at night and sunny and warm during the day.
However, we did have strong winds two days ago (those we can
certainly do without unless they are tail winds).
So only one riding day left! Cheers!
Regards, Claudia
We continued our ride and stopped about six kilometers from camp
for - you guessed it - a chocolate milkshake, this time at
McDonald's. Then we headed on into camp and I started the
preparations for supper: washing and slicing a ton of mushrooms. Eva
and Tomaslov were planning to make us a meal for which they had
composed the menu. Gilbert pitched the tent and showered. Quite a bit
later, Eva and Tom arrived and gradually took over the actual cooking
of mushroom soup, pasta sauce with shrimp or tofu and pasta
accompanied by salad and Italian bread. Although we were pretty slow
in getting the meal ready, everyone seemed to appreciate the fact
that it was not only delicious but that it was served in separate
courses. Dessert consisted of flavoured Nanaimo bars. We had to clean
up the millions of dishes from this meal in the dark because our
tables had not been set up on the side of the truck that provided
light but we finally managed to get the cleanup completed. Most of
the cyclists were sitting around a campfire composing a group song
about the trip. We joined them for a brief time, walked a little and
then went to bed. Both of us woke in the middle of the night and in
spite of earplugs, I heard Jon and Eva whispering in a tent beside
us, Ray talking loudly and then Jen and Ali laughing and talking. I
didn't get back to sleep for ages until they went to bed sometime in
the wee hours.
Day 65: Thursday September 2, 1999 - Rest day at Driftwood
Campground
We awoke at 7:45 a.m. to a windy but fine day with a temperature
reaching 29 C. Gilbert and I cooked pancakes and eggs for most of the
group, our last scheduled group breakfast. Then we did the laundry -
we were pleased not to have to wait for access to the machines. I
noted that it was a nice campsite overlooking the lake. Gilbert
cleaned and adjusted the bikes. Later that day we would pack our bags
for the ferry and our box for the plane. Only the other truck was
going to St. John's and that meant some inconvenience for our group
but I suppose that it was worth Bud and Margot's while to save the
several hundreds of dollars that taking another truck would amount
to. In the box we placed all the items and clothes we knew we
wouldn't need before arriving in Montreal.
Towards the end of the afternoon, we asked some of the local
people permanently installed in their camp-trailer on the grounds for
suggestions as to a restaurant for supper. We told them we'd like to
eat some good fish and we ended up walking four kilometers to the
closest one they had suggested, the Clansman Motel. After a sipping a
cool beer in a rather ordinary looking dining room, we supped on a
substantial and perfectly cooked grilled halibut steak. After supper,
we walked to the local Tim Horton's and quaffed an iced cappuccino
before heading back to camp.
By the time we arrived, the second group of cyclists had arrived
and we could see that we would be in for another night of noisy
partying. We finally headed for bed at about 10 p.m. but the noise
didn't disturb us much at all. Since we only had to be at the ferry
terminal for 1 p.m. the next day, we planned to spend the morning
separating and packing the rest of our things into what we would need
on the ferry and for our 135 km ride on Saturday from Argentia to St.
John's and what could be packed into a second box that would
accompany us to Montreal.
Day 66: Friday September 3 1999 - North Sydney to Argentia,
Newfoundland
Distance: 15 km
After a good night's sleep, we awoke to another sunny day with a
quiet breeze and we were pleased to be able to pack up our camping
gear dry; there had been no rain and no dew. The picnic tables near
the truck were littered with bottles and other debris from the party
the night before so we decided to ride to McDonald's for breakfast.
When we came back to camp, Vicky was making chocolate chip pancakes
which she flipped over her shoulder to people waiting to catch them
behind her. I caught one and it was delicious.
We made short shrift of the rest of our packing and headed back
into town just before 11 a.m. where we had arranged to meet Eva and
Tomaslov at 11:30 for lunch in a little café. While we waited
for them, we went to a second hand bookstore and purchased a few
interesting-looking books and then went to the small café in
the attractive waterfront complex for a serving of fish and chips. At
about 12:30 p.m. we watched the arrival of the ferry, the Joseph and
Clara Smallwood, that would transport us to Newfoundland. The ferry
was smaller than I had expected. At almost 1 p.m., we headed to the
terminal that was just five minutes away to join the others and while
we waited to board, many of us sampled some excellent ice cream.
Gilbert put his bike on the truck whereas I walked mine on board,
which proved an interesting experience when the cars disembarked many
hours later from a car lane that actually descended to form an exit
ramp.
We all met in the lounge on the 7th floor where most of us had
decided to camp out. Some comfortable lounge chairs were placed in
circles around a coffee table; other reclining chairs were place in
rows in front of TV screens where various videos of films would play
all afternoon and evening. Yet other seats were placed opposite
tables located beside large rectangular portholes/windows. during the
fifteen-hour long crossing, we visited several of the different parts
of the ferry and I found it both well-equipped and well-designed for
keeping all the passengers entertained and comfortable. There was a
lounge with live entertainment, a good and reasonably priced
cafeteria, a boutique selling souvenirs, an ice cream shop, and a
place to get cappuccino coffee, among other things on this
ferry.
I mainly read and watched a recent Robyn Williams movie about all
the members of a family who die and are reunited in heaven. The story
was syrupy but the scenes, which often came from famous paintings,
were rather spectacular. We spent some time in a discussion with Jan
de Boer, the Dutch participant in the second group about various bike
and other trips we had taken. He told us that he didn't consider this
year's cross Canada ride to be a vacation; it had been too much like
strenuous work.
Jeff and Jen had brought along the makings for sandwiches: cheese,
lettuce, tomatoes, peanut butter (natch!), honey, jam, bread, real
butter - and bananas, apples and cookies. As these were placed on the
table next to ours, it was very easy for us to fix our lunch for the
next day and then to have breakfast, and a cappuccino, too, the next
morning before arriving in Argentia.
Both Gilbert and I slept better than we had expected with our
masks and earplugs on the floor in front of some unoccupied seats. It
was very warm so we didn't need our sleeping bags. The boat didn't
roll more than gently with a few small shakes each time -
disconcerting at first but which you soon got used to. All in all, I
found the ferry ride very pleasant and a nice change from the usual
routine.
Day 67: Saturday, September 4, 1999 - Argentia to the top of
Signal Hill in St. John's, Newfoundland
Distance: 138 km; Climb: 856 m; Drop: 704
m
When we disembarked in Argentia, we discovered that the day was
even colder than we had thought and it actually seemed like an
autumnal November day. We were happy to have brought along our
leggings and long sleeved jerseys. The sky was scudded by grey cloud
and a brisk breeze was blowing. At first, we thought it was a
tailwind but our illusion was soon shattered after first kilometer
when our route changed to head directly northeast. We then realized
that we had yet another hard day of riding before us - the only thing
missing (thank goodness!) was rain. As we set off, I rode in front of
Gilbert and some of the others along the main road. A car approached
an intersection to my right and as it didn't stop at the stop sign
and seemed to be slowing down before reaching the main road, I
continued to ride without any concern. All of a sudden, Gilbert let
out an almost bloodcurdling wail and the driver braked at the last
possible moment before she would have hit me. There were only inches
between us. What a close call on the last riding day! Rather
unnerving and stressful. I hoped that we would make it to St. John's
in one piece.
Riding on Highway 100 to the crossroads at Whitbourne, we battled
headwinds, hills and the cold. Just about everyone stopped for a warm
drink and something to eat at one of the gas stations or restaurants
at this intersection. Highway 100 had had a nice wide shoulder and
little traffic but now we turned onto the Trans-Canada which was busy
and had no shoulder at all for over five kilometers - this was a bit
hairy but there were no big trucks, thank goodness. Then the
Trans-Canada became a divided and rather boring highway with hills
and headwinds (but a good shoulder, too) until we turned onto the 90
towards Holyrood.
At Holyrood, the map had another inaccuracy (once again!!!) which
caused several people to turn left when the should have turned right.
I would have been one of these except for Gilbert's superior
reasoning and observation; he knew that we had to go right to get to
St. John's, so we saved ourselves several extra kilometres.
At Killigrews, a local Newfoundland cyclist caught up with us and
we stopped at a Tim Horton's with him. He told us that a member of
the local cycling club, a former TDCer, was trying to join up with
the group but he only managed to meet us Sunday morning at breakfast
as he ended up missing the group during this, our last day's ride. He
also mentioned that strong north easterly winds were not common and
that they had had very nice weather for several days just before our
arrival.
After one last long climb at Mount Pearl, we followed Fast Dave's
proposed route along Waterford Bridge Road which descended into St.
John's; a scenic and pleasant route it was, past the wealthy homes of
this area - including Brian Tobin's, as we learned later. At the Mile
0 sign in front of the town hall, we ran into a considerable group of
cyclists led by Fast Dave. As they headed for Quidi Vidi village, we
stopped to take photos of each other in front of the Mile 0 sign,
just as we had in Victoria.
Mile 0 in St. John's
Then we headed for a restaurant that used to have an Internet
hookup but it had changed hands and we were out of luck. Then it was
onto Signal Hill which we both rode up after Jan de Boer who had been
the first cyclist to arrive. We were surprised to find ourselves
second and third; however, this was only because we hadn't gone to
Quidi Vidi for the traditional wheel dipping - we found the Mile 0
signs more significant for our ride.
There was no group picture taken atop Signal Hill as the stronger
cyclists had made it clear several days previously that they did not
want to be photographed with the weaker ones - one of our cyclists
had actually informed me that I could have my picture taken with the
fast group because I had not ridden at all in the truck! I supposed
that this was intended to make me feel honoured, but I just found it
sad to see how our group had disintegrated into little groupuscules
only interested in their own immediate concerns. After having a last
picture taken of us on top of Signal Hill, Gilbert and I headed for
the Battery Hotel where we would be staying overnight.
Signal Hill
We showered after getting our boxes, bikes and bags and bringing
them to our room. Then at around 7 p.m., we headed for the dining
room where the banquet was scheduled to start. Only two of the six
tables were occupied by the people who were on time - mostly the same
ones as per usual. We waited and waited - and waited - for the others
to show. At around 8 p.m., there were still a lot of people missing
(we knew that these people had arrived several hours earlier) and Jen
told us that the waitresses couldn't begin the meal service until
everyone was present and able to indicate his or her choice of meal.
One of the waitresses told us that exactly the same thing had
happened the year before and it annoyed us that the organizers had
not requested that the banquet start at 8:30 p.m., which would have
been a much more realistic hour. Moreover, it appeared to me that
certain individuals from our group were once again showing a blatant
lack of consideration for the others and had decided to work around a
schedule that suited them personally. So what if other people were
kept waiting?
We ate several bread rolls, drank a beer and chatted with our
neighbours at the table. Dinner was finally served at 9 p.m.: salad,
cod or prime rib or pasta with primavera sauce, chocolate cake for
dessert. Then bottles of champagne were brought out and Jeff read a
text he had composed for the occasion. Toasts were drunk and pictures
were taken; then some departed for further partying and others went
to bed.
I just felt glad that the whole odyssey was finally over and that
Gilbert and I had mustered the determination to actually finish it.
The next morning after packing our remaining clothing and placing our
bicycles in boxes, we walked around St. John's for awhile and had a
very nice lunch in a colourful little restaurant. At 1 p.m. we were
scheduled to be picked up by a taxi minion that would take all our
luggage and bikes as well as Roger Chiasson's to the airport. En
route, we would pick him up at a shopping centre where he was helping
Yuko (from the other group) arrange a flight out a few days later.
His flight was leaving at 2:15 p.m. and ours at 2:30.
At 1:20 p.m., a cab driver finally arrived in a station wagon and
could not fit even two thirds of the goods into his car in spite of
having lowered the back seat, but he did manage to get the three bike
boxes in. We ended up calling a second cab who was able to fit the
rest of the luggage into his car. I drove off with this second driver
to pick up a nervous Roger at the shopping centre while Gilbert drove
off in the station wagon directly to the airport. It was a bit of a
nerve-racking experience because at first we didn't know if we would
make it in time for our flights. Luckily there was very little
traffic on the roads because it was Sunday so Roger just had the time
to check in and board the plane. Even our final departure had proved
more hectic and difficult than we had possibly imagined; perhaps it
was a fitting end to this trip.
The flight home with Air Canada in business class - we had had
enough Aeroplan points for a little treat - was excellent and we
enjoyed feeling pampered after our very demanding summer
odyssey.
It was 31 C in Montreal when Madeleine met us at the airport. All
our baggage arrived safe and sound and I felt glad and relieved to be
home. Here is my final e-mail message.
Date: Sun, 05 Sep 1999
Subject: CHEZ NOUS/HOME
ON L'A FAIT!!! WE MADE IT!!!
When we left North Sydney on the ferry at 16:30, the weather
was splendid and the temperature was close to 30 C. I really
enjoyed the 15 hour ferry ride because there was lots to do on the
boat which almost seemed like a cruise ship. There were sections
where you could watch movies, a lounge with live entertainment, a
well-stocked cafeteria, an ice cream shop, a gift boutique, seats
with tables by the windows, lounge chairs in circles, and so on.
We read, relaxed, watched the movie, ate a delicious cod supper
and then stretched out our air mattress on the floor and slept
with our eye blinders and ear plugs. The sea was quite calm so
there wasn't much of a roll.
We got up at about 6:30 the next morning and made ourselves
breakfast from the food brought in off our accompanying truck.
When we got off the boat at 7:30 in Argentia Nfld, the temperature
was under 10 C and there was a strong wind blowing. At first we
thought it was a tailwind but after riding a kilometer or so, we
changed directions and we had to fight a strong and gusty
northeast wind all the way into St. John's. At least it didn't
rain!!!
Just off the ferry, I was riding along the main highway and a
car came along a perpendicular road that had a stop. I thought the
lady was slowing down to make her stop so I continued (I had right
of way and was right in front of her). She didn't see me and
luckily Gilbert who was behind me let out a loud yell and she
stepped on the brakes at just about the last possible moment
before she would have hit me. Boy did I feel lucky that he was
there with his yell. The lady acted really wierdly, didn't seem to
realize at all what was going on, did a U-turn and returned from
where she had come like a zombie.
The rest of the ride was pretty non-descript under grey skies
with lots of hills and wind to battle. We finally made it to Mile
0 in St. John's at 16:30 and for a finishing touch, rode up Signal
Hill.
I'M DELIGHTED THAT EVERYTHING IS FINISHED AND THAT NOW WE ARE
BOTH HOME SAFE AND SOUND.
I'm looking forward to seeing as many of you as I can over the
next while.
Claudia
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