120km/75m, 6hrs 15mins, 19.3kph/12mph, 313m/1018ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance 4164 kilometres/2586miles.
Finished! The weather forecasts looked dodgy so decided to get up early and do the whole distance back to Toronto in a single day to avoid the threatened rain. It was a great day on the bike, too, a simple route round the lakeshore all the way downtown. And being a Saturday there were lots of people out on their bikes, including roadies out training who gave me something to chase from time to time. Toronto felt vaguely like home; odd what spending eight weeks as an itinerant will do for you.
So, it's over. It may be premature to post my reflections on the whole trip, because it may take a while for me to get some perspective. But I'm delighted I did this, it has been a unique experience. I shall certainly do very lengthy tours again, their character is different from the shorter ones I'm used to, one settles into a different sort of pattern.
What have I learned, what would I do differently, what were the highlights? As I say, it may be premature to sum all that up. But there are some things I can say.
1. I got the daily distances just about right. The best part of 60 miles per day on average on a heavily-laden bike wouldn't be for everyone, but for me the actual cycling is as important as the destinations and the sight-seeing. The physical challenge and the state of mind it induces are a big part of the experience. And averaging between five and six hours on the bike struck a good balance between that challenge and keeping me fresh enough to enjoy both the cycling and the places I was visiting and riding through.
2. I could have taken less stuff. Even though I was out for eight weeks, I have with me clothes that I haven't worn. I had underestimated how frequently I would have opportunities to wash kit etc. as I went along.
3. As for highlights, I enjoyed every day. Some were tougher than others, and for the sheer pleasure of being on the bike it would be hard to beat the first day in New Brunswick. But the things that stand out in the memory are those that are most different from home, and they mainly revolve around the scale and emptiness of these places. Camping near Otter Lake, for example, with absolutely nobody else around.
Where next? Asia is quite big, isn't it?
Sunday, 3 July 2011
Friday, 1 July 2011
Days 53 and 54: Rochester to St Catharine's.
Day 53: Rochester to Buffalo
115km/71m, 6hrs 52mins, 16.5kph/10.25mph, 412m/1340ft of climbing.
Very nice day today, headwinds still present so a bit slow but basically a nice ride all the way to downtown Buffalo. And downtown Buffalo was a bit of a surprise, because there seemed to be hardly anyone around. Thursday afternoon, hotel near the convention centre so in an area one might have expected to be busy, but streets largely deserted. Most odd. I did eventually find where everyone was, by going to the Pearl Street Grill and Brewery. It was heaving. Understandably so. I can't vouch for the food, but their beer is excellent.
Day 54: Buffalo to St Catharines
96km/60m, 5hrs 15mins, 18.3kph/11.5mph, 209m/679ft of climbing.
Across the Peace Bridge first thing this morning, back to Canada. Absolutely glorious day for cycling, clear blue sky, virtually no wind, warm rather than hot, lovely. And a nice ride along the Niagara Parkway, past the Falls. The Falls themselves are magnificent, the town best viewed from a distance. Pictures. Niagara on the Lake, however, is really nice, and the generosity of the climate here is attested by the numerous fruit stalls at the roadside.
115km/71m, 6hrs 52mins, 16.5kph/10.25mph, 412m/1340ft of climbing.
Very nice day today, headwinds still present so a bit slow but basically a nice ride all the way to downtown Buffalo. And downtown Buffalo was a bit of a surprise, because there seemed to be hardly anyone around. Thursday afternoon, hotel near the convention centre so in an area one might have expected to be busy, but streets largely deserted. Most odd. I did eventually find where everyone was, by going to the Pearl Street Grill and Brewery. It was heaving. Understandably so. I can't vouch for the food, but their beer is excellent.
Day 54: Buffalo to St Catharines
96km/60m, 5hrs 15mins, 18.3kph/11.5mph, 209m/679ft of climbing.
Across the Peace Bridge first thing this morning, back to Canada. Absolutely glorious day for cycling, clear blue sky, virtually no wind, warm rather than hot, lovely. And a nice ride along the Niagara Parkway, past the Falls. The Falls themselves are magnificent, the town best viewed from a distance. Pictures. Niagara on the Lake, however, is really nice, and the generosity of the climate here is attested by the numerous fruit stalls at the roadside.
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Day 52: Fair Haven to Rochester
90km/56m, 5hrs 40mins, 15.9kph/9.9mph, 385m/1251ft of climbing.
The west wind has saved its best until last. Unremitting headwinds today, said by the meteorologists to be fluctuating between 10 and 20 mph. Hard going, and more of the same forecast for tomorrow. But hey, I am not to be discouraged at this late stage.
Largely uneventful ride into Rochester NY, my biggest city since Quebec. Tomorrow to Buffalo, and then back into Canada on Friday.
One of the things I have been musing about is the US reputation for good service. I've decided it is largely bunk. It's very friendly - one almost never experiences anything approaching the "Miserable Bastard Arms" syndrome that afflicts so many misanthropic publicans in the UK. But beneath that superficiality one very frequently encounters poor service. Lots of bars, restaurants etc. are staffed by people - often, but not always, young people - who are simply incompetent. Pleasant, willing, friendly, but utterly clueless and clearly untrained. I have yet to receive an answer to any question about a menu in a small-town restaurant, including those in hotels, that hasn't been prefaced with a blank look and a lengthy retreat to the kitchen. I have lost count of the bar and waiting staff who have no idea of how to operate the till, and appear to push buttons at random before eventually summoning someone senior to sort it out. I have been asked whether I wanted a dessert, and then presented with my bill, while still less than half-way through my main course - this in one of the better hotels in which I have stayed. I have three times - including today - been checked into hotel or motel rooms that haven't yet been cleaned and made up. And interestingly, these episodes do not appear to give rise to any embarrassment. The impression that is frequently given is that the staff concerned don't expect to know the answers, or to be on top of the job, and sometimes that they have no idea what being on top of the job might involve.
The west wind has saved its best until last. Unremitting headwinds today, said by the meteorologists to be fluctuating between 10 and 20 mph. Hard going, and more of the same forecast for tomorrow. But hey, I am not to be discouraged at this late stage.
Largely uneventful ride into Rochester NY, my biggest city since Quebec. Tomorrow to Buffalo, and then back into Canada on Friday.
One of the things I have been musing about is the US reputation for good service. I've decided it is largely bunk. It's very friendly - one almost never experiences anything approaching the "Miserable Bastard Arms" syndrome that afflicts so many misanthropic publicans in the UK. But beneath that superficiality one very frequently encounters poor service. Lots of bars, restaurants etc. are staffed by people - often, but not always, young people - who are simply incompetent. Pleasant, willing, friendly, but utterly clueless and clearly untrained. I have yet to receive an answer to any question about a menu in a small-town restaurant, including those in hotels, that hasn't been prefaced with a blank look and a lengthy retreat to the kitchen. I have lost count of the bar and waiting staff who have no idea of how to operate the till, and appear to push buttons at random before eventually summoning someone senior to sort it out. I have been asked whether I wanted a dessert, and then presented with my bill, while still less than half-way through my main course - this in one of the better hotels in which I have stayed. I have three times - including today - been checked into hotel or motel rooms that haven't yet been cleaned and made up. And interestingly, these episodes do not appear to give rise to any embarrassment. The impression that is frequently given is that the staff concerned don't expect to know the answers, or to be on top of the job, and sometimes that they have no idea what being on top of the job might involve.
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
Days 50 and 51: Sylvan Beach to Fair Haven, and rest day.
91km/56.5m, 4hrs 31mins, 20.1kph/12.5mph, 532m/1630ft of climbing.
Dreams really can come true. Just a day after fantasizing about vegetables and wondering if I'd ever see another, I arrive at my destination in time for lunch to find a salad table groaning under the weight of artichokes, beans, shredded carrot, olives, peppers etc. etc. Bliss. I swear I could feel the vitamins perfusing my system while I ate.
I am at Fair Haven, NY. It is a charming little village on the southern shore of Lake Ontario. Largely populated by people who come here for the summer (the hotel-keeper says the population falls from over four thousand to less than half that in the winter months), it's a very attractive place. Pictures. And the Pleasant Beach Hotel, where I am staying, is well worth a visit. Small, purpose-built as a hotel in 1910 and still very much of that era, decent restaurant. An ideal spot for a rest day, in fact, which is what I am having today.
Bonanza day for cycle tourists yesterday. I spent the afternoon having a drink with a group of three Americans, one man and two women, touring New York and part of New England. Two of them were very experienced tourists, having ridden across America last year and done various other big trips. And I also came upon a family, parents in their thirties with a seven-year-old daughter, riding a bicycle made for three from Wisconsin to Maine. Fantastic. The little girl seemed to be having a great time, too.
Finally, I should note that I have been corrected via e-mail about the Springsteen song I referenced in Utica. The lyric is not " All the steady jobs are going, boys..." but " Foreman says these jobs are going, boys...". Interestingly (interesting to me, at least) it wasn't my memory that was at fault, but my ear. I had always heard it as I quoted it. One for kissthisguy.com
Dreams really can come true. Just a day after fantasizing about vegetables and wondering if I'd ever see another, I arrive at my destination in time for lunch to find a salad table groaning under the weight of artichokes, beans, shredded carrot, olives, peppers etc. etc. Bliss. I swear I could feel the vitamins perfusing my system while I ate.
I am at Fair Haven, NY. It is a charming little village on the southern shore of Lake Ontario. Largely populated by people who come here for the summer (the hotel-keeper says the population falls from over four thousand to less than half that in the winter months), it's a very attractive place. Pictures. And the Pleasant Beach Hotel, where I am staying, is well worth a visit. Small, purpose-built as a hotel in 1910 and still very much of that era, decent restaurant. An ideal spot for a rest day, in fact, which is what I am having today.
Bonanza day for cycle tourists yesterday. I spent the afternoon having a drink with a group of three Americans, one man and two women, touring New York and part of New England. Two of them were very experienced tourists, having ridden across America last year and done various other big trips. And I also came upon a family, parents in their thirties with a seven-year-old daughter, riding a bicycle made for three from Wisconsin to Maine. Fantastic. The little girl seemed to be having a great time, too.
Finally, I should note that I have been corrected via e-mail about the Springsteen song I referenced in Utica. The lyric is not " All the steady jobs are going, boys..." but " Foreman says these jobs are going, boys...". Interestingly (interesting to me, at least) it wasn't my memory that was at fault, but my ear. I had always heard it as I quoted it. One for kissthisguy.com
Sunday, 26 June 2011
Day 49: Utica to Sylvan Beach
56km/35m, 3hrs 16mins, 17.3kph/10.7mph, 200m/650ft of climbing.
A short ride today. I have plenty of time. And a dry day, the first for a while.
I decided to abandon the Erie Canal Trail today. It's nice enough, but a bit samey; and in the week or so I have left I want to see as much variety as possible. So at Rome (there's a Troy here too, and an Athens - this Rome looks as if the Visigoths might have left only quite recently) I left the trail and headed north-west to Sylvan Beach. This is a small resort town on the shores of Oneida Lake. The surroundings are quite pretty. I'd say the town was an American version of Whitley Bay but without the drunkenness. Oh, and I passed through Verona and Vienna on the way.
I found myself fantasizing about vegetables today. It's really quite difficult to eat healthily here if you're not in a position to cook for yourself. Outside the big cities fast-food places dominate, or American Diners. And the Diners don't vary much, their menus dominated by eggs, burgers, chicken, steak and muffins, muffins everywhere. Green vegetables are few and far between. And when one does find them, they are invariably overcooked to such a catastrophic extent that they may as well have been used to make soup. The exception is the ubiquitous Caesar salad; they are everywhere too, and I've been resorting to them in the absence of alternatives. I suspect it will be a long time before I have another one (or another burger, or another pizza) once I get home.
Postscript: Today was the occasion of my first-ever "senior's discount". The over 55s get ten percent off in this motel.
A short ride today. I have plenty of time. And a dry day, the first for a while.
I decided to abandon the Erie Canal Trail today. It's nice enough, but a bit samey; and in the week or so I have left I want to see as much variety as possible. So at Rome (there's a Troy here too, and an Athens - this Rome looks as if the Visigoths might have left only quite recently) I left the trail and headed north-west to Sylvan Beach. This is a small resort town on the shores of Oneida Lake. The surroundings are quite pretty. I'd say the town was an American version of Whitley Bay but without the drunkenness. Oh, and I passed through Verona and Vienna on the way.
I found myself fantasizing about vegetables today. It's really quite difficult to eat healthily here if you're not in a position to cook for yourself. Outside the big cities fast-food places dominate, or American Diners. And the Diners don't vary much, their menus dominated by eggs, burgers, chicken, steak and muffins, muffins everywhere. Green vegetables are few and far between. And when one does find them, they are invariably overcooked to such a catastrophic extent that they may as well have been used to make soup. The exception is the ubiquitous Caesar salad; they are everywhere too, and I've been resorting to them in the absence of alternatives. I suspect it will be a long time before I have another one (or another burger, or another pizza) once I get home.
Postscript: Today was the occasion of my first-ever "senior's discount". The over 55s get ten percent off in this motel.
Saturday, 25 June 2011
Day 48: Fultonville to Utica
92km/58m, 5hrs 10mins, 17.9kph/11mph, 295m/959ft of climbing.
Another day spent dodging showers, with varying degrees of success. The amount of rain there has been here in recent days is really astonishing. One storm seems to follow another, and when it rains it really rains. But it is supposed to be fine for the next couple of days.
My informant about the Erie Canal Trail was certainly right about it being historic. There are various remnants of the revolutionary war, for example. Mostly, however, it feels like a memorial to America's lost industrial might. I am in the "Rust Belt", and while the trail is scenic enough, evidence of post-industrial decay is everywhere. The towns I have gone through - Amsterdam yesterday, Little Falls, Mohawk and Utica today - remind me of the Lancashire textile towns. Huge derelict buildings, hollowed-out town centres, precious little sign of recovery. And the comparison is apt, because textiles was a dominant industry around here, too. I'm staying in a nice place in Utica, but the inner city is devastated. There are big regeneration projects under way, and the Mayor has apparently christened it "the renaissance city". Good luck with that, is all I can say. The Utica population declined by 40% between 1960 and 2000. It put me in mind of a Springsteen song. I can't remember the title, but it contains the line "all the steady jobs are going, boys, and they ain't coming back."
Another day spent dodging showers, with varying degrees of success. The amount of rain there has been here in recent days is really astonishing. One storm seems to follow another, and when it rains it really rains. But it is supposed to be fine for the next couple of days.
My informant about the Erie Canal Trail was certainly right about it being historic. There are various remnants of the revolutionary war, for example. Mostly, however, it feels like a memorial to America's lost industrial might. I am in the "Rust Belt", and while the trail is scenic enough, evidence of post-industrial decay is everywhere. The towns I have gone through - Amsterdam yesterday, Little Falls, Mohawk and Utica today - remind me of the Lancashire textile towns. Huge derelict buildings, hollowed-out town centres, precious little sign of recovery. And the comparison is apt, because textiles was a dominant industry around here, too. I'm staying in a nice place in Utica, but the inner city is devastated. There are big regeneration projects under way, and the Mayor has apparently christened it "the renaissance city". Good luck with that, is all I can say. The Utica population declined by 40% between 1960 and 2000. It put me in mind of a Springsteen song. I can't remember the title, but it contains the line "all the steady jobs are going, boys, and they ain't coming back."
Friday, 24 June 2011
Day 47: Glens Falls to Fultonville
97km/60m, 5hrs 35mins, 17.3kph/10.75mph, 442m/1436ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance so far, 3504km/2177miles.
What's in a name? I had intended to have a shorter ride today and stay overnight in Amsterdam. It sounded nice, I thought, on the admittedly absurd basis that its namesake is such a beautiful city. However, on arriving there I found it to be a profoundly depressed little place dominated by disused, disintegrating industrial buildings; and the only hotel in town looked a bit disused and disintegrating, too. So I rode on, and got lucky, managing to find an acceptable motel in Fultonville just seconds before an absolutely dramatic and intense thunderstorm.
Actually the names round here are interesting to a British visitor. On my way to Amsterdam today I went through Northumberland and passed Galway. And while riding through Vermont I visited Rutland, Newbury, Thatcham and Bradford, among others.
Since leaving Amsterdam I have been riding the New York State Canalway Trail, which follows the Erie canal and promises to take me virtually all the way back to Canada off-road and traffic-free. And being a canal route, it is of course pretty much pan-flat. I wouldn't have known of its existence but for a chance conversation in a bar in Gorham New Hampshire with a man who worked for the National Forest service. When I described my route to him he said " well, if you're going to Saratoga you can ride the Erie Canal trail, it's very historic." So here I am. And speaking of Saratoga, I stopped for lunch at Saratoga Springs, which unlike Amsterdam, did not disappoint. A really nice town, I thought. Lots of nineteenth-century buildings, cafes, bookshops, had a very attractive feel.
Cumulative distance so far, 3504km/2177miles.
What's in a name? I had intended to have a shorter ride today and stay overnight in Amsterdam. It sounded nice, I thought, on the admittedly absurd basis that its namesake is such a beautiful city. However, on arriving there I found it to be a profoundly depressed little place dominated by disused, disintegrating industrial buildings; and the only hotel in town looked a bit disused and disintegrating, too. So I rode on, and got lucky, managing to find an acceptable motel in Fultonville just seconds before an absolutely dramatic and intense thunderstorm.
Actually the names round here are interesting to a British visitor. On my way to Amsterdam today I went through Northumberland and passed Galway. And while riding through Vermont I visited Rutland, Newbury, Thatcham and Bradford, among others.
Since leaving Amsterdam I have been riding the New York State Canalway Trail, which follows the Erie canal and promises to take me virtually all the way back to Canada off-road and traffic-free. And being a canal route, it is of course pretty much pan-flat. I wouldn't have known of its existence but for a chance conversation in a bar in Gorham New Hampshire with a man who worked for the National Forest service. When I described my route to him he said " well, if you're going to Saratoga you can ride the Erie Canal trail, it's very historic." So here I am. And speaking of Saratoga, I stopped for lunch at Saratoga Springs, which unlike Amsterdam, did not disappoint. A really nice town, I thought. Lots of nineteenth-century buildings, cafes, bookshops, had a very attractive feel.
Thursday, 23 June 2011
Day 46: West Bridgewater to Glens Falls
124km/75m, 6hrs 34mins, 18.9kph/11.7mph, 1053m/3422ft of climbing.
Longish day today, went some way to making up for yesterday. The forecast storms didn't miss me altogether, but caught me only once.
I began with the biggest climb of the trip so far. Not the way to start the day. And a respectable amount of climbing overall. But today was the Appalachians' last hurrah. Tomorrow things flatten out and stay fairly level until Toronto. Ten days to go but I am beginning to feel that this epic trip is drawing to its close.
Tonight I am in Glen Falls, New York. And I decided to treat myself to a proper hotel - The Queensberry. Think late Victorian city centre hotels; high ceilings, chandeliers, lots of ceramic tiles. Not as young as it was, but in pretty good nick for its age. I'm feeling a bit like that myself after seven weeks on the bike.
Longish day today, went some way to making up for yesterday. The forecast storms didn't miss me altogether, but caught me only once.
I began with the biggest climb of the trip so far. Not the way to start the day. And a respectable amount of climbing overall. But today was the Appalachians' last hurrah. Tomorrow things flatten out and stay fairly level until Toronto. Ten days to go but I am beginning to feel that this epic trip is drawing to its close.
Tonight I am in Glen Falls, New York. And I decided to treat myself to a proper hotel - The Queensberry. Think late Victorian city centre hotels; high ceilings, chandeliers, lots of ceramic tiles. Not as young as it was, but in pretty good nick for its age. I'm feeling a bit like that myself after seven weeks on the bike.
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
Day 45: White River Junction to West Bridgewater
45km/28m, 2hrs 39mins, 16.9mph/10.5mph, 398m/1293ft of climbing.
Very short ride today. I had intended to go as far as Fair Haven, another 50 kilometres away, but it started to rain and I decided that since I have plenty of time to cover the remaining distance to Toronto, I wouldn't ride in the wet. Not like me, I'm clearly going soft. But it turned out to be pretty good decision, because it has continued to pour down for about six hours so far. Hope for better things tomorrow. Scattered thunderstorms are forecast, but maybe they'll miss me.
Very short ride today. I had intended to go as far as Fair Haven, another 50 kilometres away, but it started to rain and I decided that since I have plenty of time to cover the remaining distance to Toronto, I wouldn't ride in the wet. Not like me, I'm clearly going soft. But it turned out to be pretty good decision, because it has continued to pour down for about six hours so far. Hope for better things tomorrow. Scattered thunderstorms are forecast, but maybe they'll miss me.
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
Day 44: St Johnsbury to White River Junction
100km/62m, 4hrs 40mins, 21.3kph/13.3mph, 647m/2103ft of climbing.
One of those days when one knows beyond doubt that the bicycle is mankind's greatest invention. Perfect weather, great scenery, quiet roads, terrain just challenging enough to be interesting and a feeling of invincible well-being.
I was going due south on highway 5 today. It has been superseded by an interstate which now runs parallel, so all the through traffic uses that and highway 5 is strictly for locals, and for me. As predicted, two days after a rest day and I'm feeling great so was able to zoom down to White River Junction at a healthy clip.
I was reflecting today on the solitary nature of this trip and whether I'd advise others to follow my example and undertake such a lengthy tour alone. There's no doubt that being alone has its disadvantages. Most of the time I am fine with my own company but there are moments when something happens and I think " I wish X was here to see that." And if one is less than fluent in the local language, opportunities for conversations that extend beyond the merely transactional can be few and far between.
On the other hand, one is much less alone than would have been the case in similar circumstances twenty years ago. This blog, e-mails, SMS messages, cellphones, all combine to make one feel accessible to and connected with people in a way that would have been inconceivable even in the early nineties.
And the big advantage of travelling alone is that it encourages interaction with strangers. With a companion one tends to talk solely to the companion. But alone one engages with strangers to a much greater extent. I have had dozens of conversations with locals and other travellers that simply wouldn't have happened had I been with someone. So on balance I'd say yes, go alone. Maybe not every time, but often enough to remind yourself that people you don't know are mostly OK.
One of those days when one knows beyond doubt that the bicycle is mankind's greatest invention. Perfect weather, great scenery, quiet roads, terrain just challenging enough to be interesting and a feeling of invincible well-being.
I was going due south on highway 5 today. It has been superseded by an interstate which now runs parallel, so all the through traffic uses that and highway 5 is strictly for locals, and for me. As predicted, two days after a rest day and I'm feeling great so was able to zoom down to White River Junction at a healthy clip.
I was reflecting today on the solitary nature of this trip and whether I'd advise others to follow my example and undertake such a lengthy tour alone. There's no doubt that being alone has its disadvantages. Most of the time I am fine with my own company but there are moments when something happens and I think " I wish X was here to see that." And if one is less than fluent in the local language, opportunities for conversations that extend beyond the merely transactional can be few and far between.
On the other hand, one is much less alone than would have been the case in similar circumstances twenty years ago. This blog, e-mails, SMS messages, cellphones, all combine to make one feel accessible to and connected with people in a way that would have been inconceivable even in the early nineties.
And the big advantage of travelling alone is that it encourages interaction with strangers. With a companion one tends to talk solely to the companion. But alone one engages with strangers to a much greater extent. I have had dozens of conversations with locals and other travellers that simply wouldn't have happened had I been with someone. So on balance I'd say yes, go alone. Maybe not every time, but often enough to remind yourself that people you don't know are mostly OK.
Monday, 20 June 2011
Day 43: Gorham to St Johnsbury
88km/55m, 5hrs 24mins, 16.3kph/10.1mph, 857m/2785ft of climbing.
A day of hills and headwinds, but also of beautiful sunshine in superlative scenery.
I've made the interesting discovery on this trip that I never feel as strong after a rest day. Seems counter-intuitive, but that's how it works. After a rest day I feel a bit sluggish, then the day after that I am raring to go. It's as if it takes my muscles the first session to re-acclimatise after they've been allowed to relax.
I rode through numerous pretty hamlets today, tiny communities of classic New England clapperboard houses and churches. St Johnsbury is an undistinguished little town, however.
A day of hills and headwinds, but also of beautiful sunshine in superlative scenery.
I've made the interesting discovery on this trip that I never feel as strong after a rest day. Seems counter-intuitive, but that's how it works. After a rest day I feel a bit sluggish, then the day after that I am raring to go. It's as if it takes my muscles the first session to re-acclimatise after they've been allowed to relax.
I rode through numerous pretty hamlets today, tiny communities of classic New England clapperboard houses and churches. St Johnsbury is an undistinguished little town, however.
Sunday, 19 June 2011
Day 42: rest day in Gorham
An absolutely beautiful summer's day spent soaking up the sunshine, sleeping even longer than usual, and generally making sure I'm in the best of health before the final two week journey back to Toronto. And I am. I feel ridiculously well.
I saw something quite disturbing at breakfast this morning. A girl of no more than twelve years old, whose weight I would estimate at about thirteen stones, starting her day with a dinner plate-sized helping of French toast covered with jam, maple syrup and whipped cream. This was quickly followed by an equally large plateful of waffles - more maple syrup, more whipped cream. I didn't wait to see what came next, but I had a slightly sick feeling that she wasn't finished. The choices made by her parents (who were gargantuan - her mother was at least 24 stones) were almost equally inappropriate; no cream, but mound upon mound of eggs, sausages, homefries, pancakes, syrup and so on.
Living in the North East of England one can hardly feel culturally superior about obesity, it's everywhere. But the number of people here who are truly enormous still comes as a shock. This is especially true of children. This morning's exhibition was extreme, but I have seen numerous adults looking on fondly as their almost spherical child consumes a huge pizza accompanied by potato crisps, washed down with a pint of coke and followed by ice cream. What are they thinking?
The other odd thing is that there is no shortage of people of normal weight. Lots of the people I see look very fit. But there seems to be a polarisation to the extremes, with the group that is squeezed out being those that one might describe as the ordinarily overweight. Nothing in moderation here, you're either slim or you're FAT.
Other quirks about North America. Electric switches work the opposite way round to ours- up is on, down is off. Taps too - clockwise on, anti-clockwise off. I can't remember noticing this one in Canada, so maybe it's just a US phenomenon. Anyway, it's a serious matter when one is trying to adjust the water temperature in the shower.
My brief sojourn in New Hampshire ends tomorrow, I move on to St Johnsbury, Vermont.
I saw something quite disturbing at breakfast this morning. A girl of no more than twelve years old, whose weight I would estimate at about thirteen stones, starting her day with a dinner plate-sized helping of French toast covered with jam, maple syrup and whipped cream. This was quickly followed by an equally large plateful of waffles - more maple syrup, more whipped cream. I didn't wait to see what came next, but I had a slightly sick feeling that she wasn't finished. The choices made by her parents (who were gargantuan - her mother was at least 24 stones) were almost equally inappropriate; no cream, but mound upon mound of eggs, sausages, homefries, pancakes, syrup and so on.
Living in the North East of England one can hardly feel culturally superior about obesity, it's everywhere. But the number of people here who are truly enormous still comes as a shock. This is especially true of children. This morning's exhibition was extreme, but I have seen numerous adults looking on fondly as their almost spherical child consumes a huge pizza accompanied by potato crisps, washed down with a pint of coke and followed by ice cream. What are they thinking?
The other odd thing is that there is no shortage of people of normal weight. Lots of the people I see look very fit. But there seems to be a polarisation to the extremes, with the group that is squeezed out being those that one might describe as the ordinarily overweight. Nothing in moderation here, you're either slim or you're FAT.
Other quirks about North America. Electric switches work the opposite way round to ours- up is on, down is off. Taps too - clockwise on, anti-clockwise off. I can't remember noticing this one in Canada, so maybe it's just a US phenomenon. Anyway, it's a serious matter when one is trying to adjust the water temperature in the shower.
My brief sojourn in New Hampshire ends tomorrow, I move on to St Johnsbury, Vermont.
Saturday, 18 June 2011
Day 41: Wilton to Gorham
108km/66m, 6hrs 2mins, 17.9kph/11.1mph, 647m/2103ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance so far: 3054km/1897miles
A much easier day than expected. I've been in amongst some serious mountains all day, but whoever built US highway 2 did a remarkable job of threading it between rather than over them, so I did surprisingly little climbing. And saw a lot of wildlife, especially cottontail deer, numbers of which crossed the road in front of me from time to time.
I am in Gorham, New Hampshire, on the edge of the White Mountains National Forest. Mount Washington is just up the road. The scenery is stunning here, perhaps the most beautiful of the whole trip. The mosquitos are equally outstanding, unfortunately.
And I had another extraordinary small-town experience this evening. I was sitting at a bar having a beer and a salad. The place was pretty much deserted so I was chatting to the barmaid. She was a woman in her thirties who was, in her own words, "born and raised" in Gorham, New Hampshire. I asked her if she'd never wanted to move away and she said "I dunno. I'm not a fan of coloureds and at least everyone's white here." It's a very long time since I was quite so lost for words.
Day off tomorrow.
Cumulative distance so far: 3054km/1897miles
A much easier day than expected. I've been in amongst some serious mountains all day, but whoever built US highway 2 did a remarkable job of threading it between rather than over them, so I did surprisingly little climbing. And saw a lot of wildlife, especially cottontail deer, numbers of which crossed the road in front of me from time to time.
I am in Gorham, New Hampshire, on the edge of the White Mountains National Forest. Mount Washington is just up the road. The scenery is stunning here, perhaps the most beautiful of the whole trip. The mosquitos are equally outstanding, unfortunately.
And I had another extraordinary small-town experience this evening. I was sitting at a bar having a beer and a salad. The place was pretty much deserted so I was chatting to the barmaid. She was a woman in her thirties who was, in her own words, "born and raised" in Gorham, New Hampshire. I asked her if she'd never wanted to move away and she said "I dunno. I'm not a fan of coloureds and at least everyone's white here." It's a very long time since I was quite so lost for words.
Day off tomorrow.
Friday, 17 June 2011
Day 40: Newport to Wilton
96km/60m, 5hrs 56mins, 16.1kph/10mph, 881m/2863ft of climbing.
The Appalachians hereabouts are elusive, and irritating to the bicyclist. Instead of going up to the top on one side and then down to the bottom on the other, as any sensible mountain would, they are corrugated. No sooner have you sweated up a couple of hundred feet than you lose the height you've just gained, and have to do it all over again.
Nonetheless a nice day's ride today. A little cooler than yesterday, with less wind. And at the end of the journey The Wilson Lake Inn; a motel, but easily the nicest place I've stayed in so far, nice accommodation in a spectacularly beautiful setting.
I was lucky to get a room here, because my unheralded arrival coincided with that of the Maine heart and lung foundation's annual cycle trek across the state to raise money. Over 1600 cyclists and various hangers-on, who have booked every hotel and motel room for miles around, apparently. However, having told me I was out of luck the nice lady checked her register and discovered she had one room left. Joy. And, of course, I find myself surrounded by cyclists so have the rare luxury of blethering on about bikes and biking to my heart's content.
The Appalachians hereabouts are elusive, and irritating to the bicyclist. Instead of going up to the top on one side and then down to the bottom on the other, as any sensible mountain would, they are corrugated. No sooner have you sweated up a couple of hundred feet than you lose the height you've just gained, and have to do it all over again.
Nonetheless a nice day's ride today. A little cooler than yesterday, with less wind. And at the end of the journey The Wilson Lake Inn; a motel, but easily the nicest place I've stayed in so far, nice accommodation in a spectacularly beautiful setting.
I was lucky to get a room here, because my unheralded arrival coincided with that of the Maine heart and lung foundation's annual cycle trek across the state to raise money. Over 1600 cyclists and various hangers-on, who have booked every hotel and motel room for miles around, apparently. However, having told me I was out of luck the nice lady checked her register and discovered she had one room left. Joy. And, of course, I find myself surrounded by cyclists so have the rare luxury of blethering on about bikes and biking to my heart's content.
Thursday, 16 June 2011
Day 39: Lincoln to Newport
121km/75m, 6hrs 59mins, 17.3kph/10.7mph, 697m/2265ft of climbing.
Hot today, in the 80s Fahrenheit, not my sort of weather. With that, a headwind (back to normal) and the fact that all today's climbing came in the last 30km, this was a tougher day than I've had for a while. More to come tomorrow and the day after, because I'm beginning to nose into the mountains.
For a long time after leaving Lincoln, highway 2 runs alongside a wide, slow, amazingly still river. Most of the time it looks more like a lake than a river. So, some aquatic fauna was to be expected, but I was surprised to meet a turtle at the roadside. He was quite big - about eighteen inches long - and posed phlegmatically enough for my photo.
An insight into small-town America this evening. I ate in a Mexican restaurant. The food was rather good, actually, and I had a half-pint bottle of Samuel Adams beer with my meal. Afterwards I sat at the bar and had two more - so, a total of one and one half pints. I ordered a fourth and was refused. "I'm sorry sir, it's just a policy we have here, we operate a three-drink maximum because we're a family-oriented restaurant." I expressed incredulity, and asked whether I could have had three pints instead of three halves? Yes, that would have been fine. Three Margueritas? Also fine. Needless to say I pointed out the inadequacy of their rule. However, the final and best word on the matter came from the local man sitting next to me, who turned to me and said "only in America. And we think we're free, right?"
Hot today, in the 80s Fahrenheit, not my sort of weather. With that, a headwind (back to normal) and the fact that all today's climbing came in the last 30km, this was a tougher day than I've had for a while. More to come tomorrow and the day after, because I'm beginning to nose into the mountains.
For a long time after leaving Lincoln, highway 2 runs alongside a wide, slow, amazingly still river. Most of the time it looks more like a lake than a river. So, some aquatic fauna was to be expected, but I was surprised to meet a turtle at the roadside. He was quite big - about eighteen inches long - and posed phlegmatically enough for my photo.
An insight into small-town America this evening. I ate in a Mexican restaurant. The food was rather good, actually, and I had a half-pint bottle of Samuel Adams beer with my meal. Afterwards I sat at the bar and had two more - so, a total of one and one half pints. I ordered a fourth and was refused. "I'm sorry sir, it's just a policy we have here, we operate a three-drink maximum because we're a family-oriented restaurant." I expressed incredulity, and asked whether I could have had three pints instead of three halves? Yes, that would have been fine. Three Margueritas? Also fine. Needless to say I pointed out the inadequacy of their rule. However, the final and best word on the matter came from the local man sitting next to me, who turned to me and said "only in America. And we think we're free, right?"
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Day 38: Houlton to Lincoln
109km/68m, 5hrs 19mins, 20.5kph/12.7mph, 629m/2044ft of climbing.
Another wonderful day's cycling today, weather ideal and an almost deserted road through apparently endless forests.
A day for the entomologists. Lots of striking butterflies, notably Monarchs in considerable numbers. And hosts of dragonflies of various species that I am not, alas, expert enough to identify.
More incredulity today about my journey, this time from the diners in a roadside restaurant in the delectably-named Mattawamkeag. Obviously men in lycra aren't their usual lunchtime clientele, so naturally they asked me where I was riding to. General astonishment at my reply. Interestingly, though, what really struck home was my saying I had ridden from Houlton (about 80km) that morning. "But that's over an hour away by car!"
Forgot to mention yesterday that I had my first puncture. Not just my first puncture of this trip, but my first in over 8000 miles of using Schwalbe Marathon Plus tyres. Not quite impenetrable after all. Can't complain though; a very sharp half-inch nail driven vertically into the tread and still only just managed to get through and scratch a tiny hole in the tube. And while fixing that I discovered that I'd broken a spoke in the rear wheel. The wheel was barely out of true, which is a testimonial to the wheel builder at SJS cycles. Justification at last for carrying tools, spare spokes etc.
Another wonderful day's cycling today, weather ideal and an almost deserted road through apparently endless forests.
A day for the entomologists. Lots of striking butterflies, notably Monarchs in considerable numbers. And hosts of dragonflies of various species that I am not, alas, expert enough to identify.
More incredulity today about my journey, this time from the diners in a roadside restaurant in the delectably-named Mattawamkeag. Obviously men in lycra aren't their usual lunchtime clientele, so naturally they asked me where I was riding to. General astonishment at my reply. Interestingly, though, what really struck home was my saying I had ridden from Houlton (about 80km) that morning. "But that's over an hour away by car!"
Forgot to mention yesterday that I had my first puncture. Not just my first puncture of this trip, but my first in over 8000 miles of using Schwalbe Marathon Plus tyres. Not quite impenetrable after all. Can't complain though; a very sharp half-inch nail driven vertically into the tread and still only just managed to get through and scratch a tiny hole in the tube. And while fixing that I discovered that I'd broken a spoke in the rear wheel. The wheel was barely out of true, which is a testimonial to the wheel builder at SJS cycles. Justification at last for carrying tools, spare spokes etc.
Tuesday, 14 June 2011
Days 36 and 37: Van Buren to Houlton
125km/78m, 6hrs 15 mins, 20.1kph/12.5mph, 926m/3010ft of climbing.
An uneventful rest day in Van Buren. In fact, without wishing to be uncharitable, I suspect that events are few and far between in Van Buren, it's as dead as a doornail. That was no problem for me, however, given that my priorities were sleep and eat, in that order.
And it was coldish, and wettish, so the decision to take a day off was vindicated. Especially so as today was really nice. Quite sunny, warmish, not much wind. I was riding pretty much due south today. I'm still quite a long way north of Toronto, and it makes sense to ride parallel to the mountains before crossing them in a few days. So, a day of rolling countryside and alternating forest and farmland. Lots of potatoes grown here. And to my surprise I was riding through Amish country for a short time. I had no idea there were Amish settlements this far north, but as I passed one homestead a little boy in the usual black suit and straw hat waved shyly at me, and for the next few miles there was a succession of plainly-dressed, straw-hatted, bearded men driving ponies and traps; all rather gravely acknowledging me as I rode by.
Tonight in a Motel on the outskirts of Houlton, rather less of a one-horse town than Van Buren, though far from metropolitan. Admirable candour from the young lady on the desk. She asked where I'd ridden from and when I said Toronto, she looked at me for a long time before saying, quite kindly, "you're crazy".
An uneventful rest day in Van Buren. In fact, without wishing to be uncharitable, I suspect that events are few and far between in Van Buren, it's as dead as a doornail. That was no problem for me, however, given that my priorities were sleep and eat, in that order.
And it was coldish, and wettish, so the decision to take a day off was vindicated. Especially so as today was really nice. Quite sunny, warmish, not much wind. I was riding pretty much due south today. I'm still quite a long way north of Toronto, and it makes sense to ride parallel to the mountains before crossing them in a few days. So, a day of rolling countryside and alternating forest and farmland. Lots of potatoes grown here. And to my surprise I was riding through Amish country for a short time. I had no idea there were Amish settlements this far north, but as I passed one homestead a little boy in the usual black suit and straw hat waved shyly at me, and for the next few miles there was a succession of plainly-dressed, straw-hatted, bearded men driving ponies and traps; all rather gravely acknowledging me as I rode by.
Tonight in a Motel on the outskirts of Houlton, rather less of a one-horse town than Van Buren, though far from metropolitan. Admirable candour from the young lady on the desk. She asked where I'd ridden from and when I said Toronto, she looked at me for a long time before saying, quite kindly, "you're crazy".
Sunday, 12 June 2011
Day 35: Saint Quentin to Van Buren.
64km/40m, 3hrs 53mins, 16.3kph/10.1mph, 592m/1924ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance so far, 2447km/1520m.
A bientot Canada, hello USA. Crossed the border at the end of an easy ride in cloudy, slightly chilly conditions. The weather forecast was poor so kept it short today and am taking a day off tomorrow, though now I'm here the weather doesn't look too bad. No matter, it won't do me any harm to have a rest before tackling the most mountainous stages of the trip, across the Appalachians in New Hampshire and New York. And having this afternoon free gave me the chance to see Bradley Wiggins win the Criterium du Dauphine on the TV. Go Bradley, let's see you on the podium in the Tour.
Cumulative distance so far, 2447km/1520m.
A bientot Canada, hello USA. Crossed the border at the end of an easy ride in cloudy, slightly chilly conditions. The weather forecast was poor so kept it short today and am taking a day off tomorrow, though now I'm here the weather doesn't look too bad. No matter, it won't do me any harm to have a rest before tackling the most mountainous stages of the trip, across the Appalachians in New Hampshire and New York. And having this afternoon free gave me the chance to see Bradley Wiggins win the Criterium du Dauphine on the TV. Go Bradley, let's see you on the podium in the Tour.
Saturday, 11 June 2011
Day 34: Pointe-a-la-Croix to Saint Quentin
101km/63m, 6hrs 31mins, 15.5kph/9.6mph, 1138m/3698ft of climbing.
Lots of climbing today, I'm in the foothills of the Appalachians. But despite that, this was perhaps the best day's cycling of the tour so far. Beautiful cycling weather, sunny, not much wind, not too hot. And highway 17 through New Brunswick is a beautiful road. Great scenery (I didn't bother with pictures - I find that one picture of afforested hills looks much like another) but also a great road to ride. Largely well maintained, with smooth tarmac, and superbly engineered: shallow gradients, long sweeping bends, an absolute pleasure. And greatly improved by my feeling increasingly strong. 100 km through this terrain would have been a tough challenge at the start of this tour. Today I laughed at it.
Ate this evening at a local diner recommended to me by the receptionist at my motel. I ordered a Greek salad as a starter. The plateful that arrived was slightly more than I'd bargained for - had this been a Greek salad I was making at home, I might have been slightly nervous about it being enough for four, but would certainly have felt I was overcatering for three. I ate it though, and it was excellent.
I am in Acadia. it's one of the predominantly French areas of North America. Slightly weird. Not completely French, like Quebec, more bilingual. But the French that is spoken here is even less comprehensible to me than usual. But I am about to re-enter the English-speaking world. Depending on the weather, tomorrow I am likely to cross the border with the USA.
Lots of climbing today, I'm in the foothills of the Appalachians. But despite that, this was perhaps the best day's cycling of the tour so far. Beautiful cycling weather, sunny, not much wind, not too hot. And highway 17 through New Brunswick is a beautiful road. Great scenery (I didn't bother with pictures - I find that one picture of afforested hills looks much like another) but also a great road to ride. Largely well maintained, with smooth tarmac, and superbly engineered: shallow gradients, long sweeping bends, an absolute pleasure. And greatly improved by my feeling increasingly strong. 100 km through this terrain would have been a tough challenge at the start of this tour. Today I laughed at it.
Ate this evening at a local diner recommended to me by the receptionist at my motel. I ordered a Greek salad as a starter. The plateful that arrived was slightly more than I'd bargained for - had this been a Greek salad I was making at home, I might have been slightly nervous about it being enough for four, but would certainly have felt I was overcatering for three. I ate it though, and it was excellent.
I am in Acadia. it's one of the predominantly French areas of North America. Slightly weird. Not completely French, like Quebec, more bilingual. But the French that is spoken here is even less comprehensible to me than usual. But I am about to re-enter the English-speaking world. Depending on the weather, tomorrow I am likely to cross the border with the USA.
Friday, 10 June 2011
Day 33: Paspebiac to Pointe-a-la-Croix
134km/83m, 8hrs 28mins, 15.8kph/9.8mph, 647m/2103ft of climbing.
Longest day so far, more by accident than design. Started looking for somewhere to stay when I had covered about 90km, but nothing appealing turned up. So I ended up riding all the way to the border with New Brunswick, and will leave Quebec first thing tomorrow morning. Must remember to wear my helmet, as New Brunswick is one of the places that is misguided enough to have passed a law forcing cyclists to wear helmets. Ridiculous, but there it is. I have carted a helmet across the Atlantic and round Eastern Canada so I can avoid getting arrested during the two days I'll spend in New Brunswick.
Today was my second day of riding in a predominantly western direction. So guess what? A stiff North-Westerly headwind. It would be very easy to believe it's personal. Beautiful day, though, riding in bright sunshine along the shore of the Chaleur Bay. Much softer landscape on this coast, and a feeling in the air that I'm riding into a rather softer climate, too. We'll see how realistic an expectation that is in the coming days.
Longest day so far, more by accident than design. Started looking for somewhere to stay when I had covered about 90km, but nothing appealing turned up. So I ended up riding all the way to the border with New Brunswick, and will leave Quebec first thing tomorrow morning. Must remember to wear my helmet, as New Brunswick is one of the places that is misguided enough to have passed a law forcing cyclists to wear helmets. Ridiculous, but there it is. I have carted a helmet across the Atlantic and round Eastern Canada so I can avoid getting arrested during the two days I'll spend in New Brunswick.
Today was my second day of riding in a predominantly western direction. So guess what? A stiff North-Westerly headwind. It would be very easy to believe it's personal. Beautiful day, though, riding in bright sunshine along the shore of the Chaleur Bay. Much softer landscape on this coast, and a feeling in the air that I'm riding into a rather softer climate, too. We'll see how realistic an expectation that is in the coming days.
Thursday, 9 June 2011
Day 32: Perce to Paspebiac
110km/68m, 6hrs 9mins, 17.9kph/11.1mph, 780m/2535ft of climbing.
Quiet day today, fairly easy ride along the Gaspesie south coast.
Only a couple of days now until I leave Quebec after about three weeks. It has been interesting, and sometimes surprising. The first thing, as always, is the scale. If you look at the map, the Gaspesie peninsula is a piddling little appendage on the south of the Province. But despite my arriving by ferry half way up its north coast, it will have taken me ten days to ride round it. And while I seem to have covered a lot of ground, Quebec stretches a thousand miles north of where I have managed to reach.
I've been impressed by how easy it is to cycle here. I was told by more than one Ontarian that Les Quebecois were crazy drivers and that I needed to be careful. But in general I have found the drivers to be very considerate. And Quebec makes much more provision for cyclists than Ontario, by and large. Lots of signs reminding drivers to share the road, a fair number of segregated cycle lanes and a number of well-signposted "routes vertes" that take one off the main roads. And lots of "haltes municipales" at the roadside; shelters with toilets, picnic tables and access to drinking water. Very convenient.
Quiet day today, fairly easy ride along the Gaspesie south coast.
Only a couple of days now until I leave Quebec after about three weeks. It has been interesting, and sometimes surprising. The first thing, as always, is the scale. If you look at the map, the Gaspesie peninsula is a piddling little appendage on the south of the Province. But despite my arriving by ferry half way up its north coast, it will have taken me ten days to ride round it. And while I seem to have covered a lot of ground, Quebec stretches a thousand miles north of where I have managed to reach.
I've been impressed by how easy it is to cycle here. I was told by more than one Ontarian that Les Quebecois were crazy drivers and that I needed to be careful. But in general I have found the drivers to be very considerate. And Quebec makes much more provision for cyclists than Ontario, by and large. Lots of signs reminding drivers to share the road, a fair number of segregated cycle lanes and a number of well-signposted "routes vertes" that take one off the main roads. And lots of "haltes municipales" at the roadside; shelters with toilets, picnic tables and access to drinking water. Very convenient.
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Days 30 and 31; Gaspe to Perce plus a rest day
63km/39m, 3hrs 52mins, 16.3kph/10.1mph, 709m/2304 ft of climbing.
Perce, reached by a gentle ride in the sunshine with a nasty hill at the end, presumably placed there just to make sure I don't get complacent, is blessed with spectacular scenery, as you can see here. The famous arched cliff, just a hundred or so metres off shore, is fascinating, because its colouring and appearance changes constantly with the light and weather. If Monet had made it to Gaspesie he'd have painted it over and over again.
Perce (spelled, by the way, with an acute accent on the final e; as is Gaspe. I just can't manage the accents on my iPad) is also an excellent place for a rest day, as it is packed with cafes and restaurants. So I have spent a relaxing day and a half just mooching about, having a couple of beers, eating well and generally doing what is needed to make sure I'm raring to go for the second half of the trip. Had a stupendous meal here, in a fish restaurant called La Maison du Pecheur. Try it if you visit the area.
Somebody asked me what I think about when I am riding along. It's not an easy question to answer. Obviously sometimes I'm looking at the scenery, sometimes I'm thinking about the route, sometimes I'm wishing the wind would drop. And sometimes I'm thinking about more complicated things. But a lot of the time I'm not really thinking of anything. Cycling is like that, it tends to focus one's attention on the sheer physicality of the activity. So I get into a rhythm and my awareness is focused on that; I couldn't be said to be thinking, just being. It's quite meditative. That's one of the things I most like about it.
And I've looked up the Gaspesie geology. The ancient upheaval that shaped the place was the Devonian collision that created the supercontinent of Euramerica. So there's a strong local connection to the west coast of the UK. My comparisons with Scotland weren't so wide of the mark.
Perce, reached by a gentle ride in the sunshine with a nasty hill at the end, presumably placed there just to make sure I don't get complacent, is blessed with spectacular scenery, as you can see here. The famous arched cliff, just a hundred or so metres off shore, is fascinating, because its colouring and appearance changes constantly with the light and weather. If Monet had made it to Gaspesie he'd have painted it over and over again.
Perce (spelled, by the way, with an acute accent on the final e; as is Gaspe. I just can't manage the accents on my iPad) is also an excellent place for a rest day, as it is packed with cafes and restaurants. So I have spent a relaxing day and a half just mooching about, having a couple of beers, eating well and generally doing what is needed to make sure I'm raring to go for the second half of the trip. Had a stupendous meal here, in a fish restaurant called La Maison du Pecheur. Try it if you visit the area.
Somebody asked me what I think about when I am riding along. It's not an easy question to answer. Obviously sometimes I'm looking at the scenery, sometimes I'm thinking about the route, sometimes I'm wishing the wind would drop. And sometimes I'm thinking about more complicated things. But a lot of the time I'm not really thinking of anything. Cycling is like that, it tends to focus one's attention on the sheer physicality of the activity. So I get into a rhythm and my awareness is focused on that; I couldn't be said to be thinking, just being. It's quite meditative. That's one of the things I most like about it.
And I've looked up the Gaspesie geology. The ancient upheaval that shaped the place was the Devonian collision that created the supercontinent of Euramerica. So there's a strong local connection to the west coast of the UK. My comparisons with Scotland weren't so wide of the mark.
Monday, 6 June 2011
Day 29: St Yvon to Gaspe
71km/44m, 5hrs2mins, 14kph/8.7mph, 1123m/3650ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance so far, 1975km/1226m.
Gaspe! And that's not just me breathing heavily. Reaching Gaspe today marks a literal turning-point. From here I shall be heading back to Toronto, albeit by a much different route.
Another tough day's cycling today with lots of climbing, some dense fog, and two extended periods of heavy rain. (No wind, though. One could almost guarantee that the easterly wind, which has plagued me for four weeks, would die just as I was about to turn for home and it could have been useful). It's a good job I had the sense to keep the distances fairly short for the past three days. It wouldn't have taken many more climbs today to finish me off. I have, however, reached my halfway point in good spirits and in good shape. Decidedly fitter than when I started.
Tomorrow to Perce, where I shall probably take a rest day. In the meantime I've posted a few more pictures.
Cumulative distance so far, 1975km/1226m.
Gaspe! And that's not just me breathing heavily. Reaching Gaspe today marks a literal turning-point. From here I shall be heading back to Toronto, albeit by a much different route.
Another tough day's cycling today with lots of climbing, some dense fog, and two extended periods of heavy rain. (No wind, though. One could almost guarantee that the easterly wind, which has plagued me for four weeks, would die just as I was about to turn for home and it could have been useful). It's a good job I had the sense to keep the distances fairly short for the past three days. It wouldn't have taken many more climbs today to finish me off. I have, however, reached my halfway point in good spirits and in good shape. Decidedly fitter than when I started.
Tomorrow to Perce, where I shall probably take a rest day. In the meantime I've posted a few more pictures.
Days 26, 27, 28: Matane to St Yvon
Day 26: Matane to Sainte Anne-des-Monts
100km/62m, 6hrs 24mins, 15.65kph/9.7mph, 812m/2639ft of climbing.
The coastline became progressively more rugged today. I'd have taken some nice photographs if the howling gale and driving rain hadn't persuaded me that the last thing I wanted to do was stand still. Anyway, my hands were so cold I couldn't have worked the camera.
Yes, conditions turned a bit uncompromising. A biting north-easterly wind in my face, steady rain for the first four hours, and easily the coldest day so far. A day on which I can reflect on my decision to ride 100km and know with some certainty that I'm a couple of slices short of a full loaf.
However, things did improve, and at least the last couple of hours were dry. And for the second time this trip I find myself sleeping in a yurt. I am at the Sea Shack hostel just outside St Anne-des-Monts, a wonderfully eccentric establishment with one communal building containing kitchen, bar etc., but all the accommodation in a motley collection or huts and yurts. Fun, though not recommended for those of delicate sensibilities. Neither the accommodation nor any of the other facilities are segregated by gender. I'm not sure how appropriate that is for one of my grandfatherly appearance when everyone else is under 25, but nobody seems bothered...
Day 27: Sainte Anne-des-Monts to Saint Maxime-du-Mont-Louis
49km/30m, 3hrs 04mins, 16kph/10mph, 188m/611ft of climbing.
This morning I was about 230km from the town of Gaspe. That's either two long days or three short ones, and as yesterday had been pretty tough I decided to make it three short ones; or, more specifically, to have one very short one today. I also rejected the option of taking the mountain road, and will stick to the coast. I might not have been such a wimp had the weather been better, but it's quite cold at sea level and I suspect it is arctic at 2500 feet, which is where the road goes.
In fact, even at sea level I was today passing shady spots in which there were substantial patches of unmelted snow. Quite surprising. It's 4 June and while I am now as far north as I will get on this trip, I'm still well south of home. In fact I think I'm at about the same latitude as Paris. An interesting illustration of what the Gulf Stream does to moderate our climate, and what things might be like without it.
The coastline is very, very rugged now, with jagged hills coming down steeply to the sea. Waterfalls everywhere, I pass one every couple of kilometres or so on the highway. Lots of ravens nesting in the cliffs.
I haven't looked up the geology of Gaspesie, but there are lots of interesting rock formations. Much of what I am seeing seems to be sedimentary rock that has been lifted through 45 or sometimes 60 degrees in some ancient upheaval. Lots of very narrow distinct strata, which I imagine would be paradise for a fossil-hunter.
Day 28: Saint Maxime-du-Mont-Louis to Saint Yvon.
80km/50m, 5hrs34mins, 14.5kph/9mph, 1116m/3627ft of climbing.
Shut up, legs!
Tough cycling country, this. I had to have serious words with myself to get me up a couple of the climbs today, and that was on the coast road. Heaven knows what the route through the mountain passes would have been like.
Very beautiful, though. I find that I have been cycling alongside an eastern branch of the Appalachian Trail which ends just down the coast near Gaspe. At 2180 miles long it rather puts the Pennine Way to shame.
But despite its charms, it must be hard to make money here. Very dependent on the tourist trade, and the season is short, lasting from about now until mid-September and that's it. Apparently they do get some snowmobilers etc., but the harder the winter in the rest of Canada, the less well they do because it is easier for the enthusiasts to get what they want closer to home. And according to the admittedly miserable owner of last night's motel, since the crash the Americans have stopped coming. So things must be tough, and it is certainly noticeable that there are a lot of businesses for sale - B&Bs, Motels, Cafes in particular. So if anyone who speaks half-decent French wants to escape to somewhere remote, and is prepared to work hard three months of the year to cover their costs but without any aspirations to making much money beyond that, there are plenty of opportunities here.
100km/62m, 6hrs 24mins, 15.65kph/9.7mph, 812m/2639ft of climbing.
The coastline became progressively more rugged today. I'd have taken some nice photographs if the howling gale and driving rain hadn't persuaded me that the last thing I wanted to do was stand still. Anyway, my hands were so cold I couldn't have worked the camera.
Yes, conditions turned a bit uncompromising. A biting north-easterly wind in my face, steady rain for the first four hours, and easily the coldest day so far. A day on which I can reflect on my decision to ride 100km and know with some certainty that I'm a couple of slices short of a full loaf.
However, things did improve, and at least the last couple of hours were dry. And for the second time this trip I find myself sleeping in a yurt. I am at the Sea Shack hostel just outside St Anne-des-Monts, a wonderfully eccentric establishment with one communal building containing kitchen, bar etc., but all the accommodation in a motley collection or huts and yurts. Fun, though not recommended for those of delicate sensibilities. Neither the accommodation nor any of the other facilities are segregated by gender. I'm not sure how appropriate that is for one of my grandfatherly appearance when everyone else is under 25, but nobody seems bothered...
Day 27: Sainte Anne-des-Monts to Saint Maxime-du-Mont-Louis
49km/30m, 3hrs 04mins, 16kph/10mph, 188m/611ft of climbing.
This morning I was about 230km from the town of Gaspe. That's either two long days or three short ones, and as yesterday had been pretty tough I decided to make it three short ones; or, more specifically, to have one very short one today. I also rejected the option of taking the mountain road, and will stick to the coast. I might not have been such a wimp had the weather been better, but it's quite cold at sea level and I suspect it is arctic at 2500 feet, which is where the road goes.
In fact, even at sea level I was today passing shady spots in which there were substantial patches of unmelted snow. Quite surprising. It's 4 June and while I am now as far north as I will get on this trip, I'm still well south of home. In fact I think I'm at about the same latitude as Paris. An interesting illustration of what the Gulf Stream does to moderate our climate, and what things might be like without it.
The coastline is very, very rugged now, with jagged hills coming down steeply to the sea. Waterfalls everywhere, I pass one every couple of kilometres or so on the highway. Lots of ravens nesting in the cliffs.
I haven't looked up the geology of Gaspesie, but there are lots of interesting rock formations. Much of what I am seeing seems to be sedimentary rock that has been lifted through 45 or sometimes 60 degrees in some ancient upheaval. Lots of very narrow distinct strata, which I imagine would be paradise for a fossil-hunter.
Day 28: Saint Maxime-du-Mont-Louis to Saint Yvon.
80km/50m, 5hrs34mins, 14.5kph/9mph, 1116m/3627ft of climbing.
Shut up, legs!
Tough cycling country, this. I had to have serious words with myself to get me up a couple of the climbs today, and that was on the coast road. Heaven knows what the route through the mountain passes would have been like.
Very beautiful, though. I find that I have been cycling alongside an eastern branch of the Appalachian Trail which ends just down the coast near Gaspe. At 2180 miles long it rather puts the Pennine Way to shame.
But despite its charms, it must be hard to make money here. Very dependent on the tourist trade, and the season is short, lasting from about now until mid-September and that's it. Apparently they do get some snowmobilers etc., but the harder the winter in the rest of Canada, the less well they do because it is easier for the enthusiasts to get what they want closer to home. And according to the admittedly miserable owner of last night's motel, since the crash the Americans have stopped coming. So things must be tough, and it is certainly noticeable that there are a lot of businesses for sale - B&Bs, Motels, Cafes in particular. So if anyone who speaks half-decent French wants to escape to somewhere remote, and is prepared to work hard three months of the year to cover their costs but without any aspirations to making much money beyond that, there are plenty of opportunities here.
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Day 25: Rimouski to Matane
98 km/61m, 3hrs55mins, 25kph/15.5mph, 207m/673ft of climbing.
Rare following wind today, so a fast flat ride along the riverbank. Actually "river" is now becoming a misnomer. The estuary at this point is so wide that the opposite bank is just a thin blue smudge on the horizon, and we're close to making the transition from the St Lawrence river to the Gulf of St Lawrence.
The meal I ate last night prompts some reflections on the French Canadians' culinary preferences. I'm afraid they are more Canadian than French. A favourite dish here is Poutine. It consists of chips with curd cheese and covered in gravy. It is truly disgusting to behold, but it's everywhere. And the love of gravy extends beyond Poutine. Last night I ordered a hamburger. It arrived with chips and coleslaw and gravy - poured over the bun! Extraordinary, and revolting.
To be fair, I have in general eaten very well here and much of the food, especially seafood, is very good. But one has to be careful of the gravy fairy, she pops up when one least expects her.
And one thing not directly related to the tour. I brought an e-reader with me - great gadget - and on it I had stored the Stieg Larsson Millennium trilogy; the girl with the dragon tattoo, etc. I know everyone else in the world has already read these books, so I'm probably telling nobody anything they don't already know, but they are superb. Certainly among the best crime/detective fiction I have read.
Rare following wind today, so a fast flat ride along the riverbank. Actually "river" is now becoming a misnomer. The estuary at this point is so wide that the opposite bank is just a thin blue smudge on the horizon, and we're close to making the transition from the St Lawrence river to the Gulf of St Lawrence.
The meal I ate last night prompts some reflections on the French Canadians' culinary preferences. I'm afraid they are more Canadian than French. A favourite dish here is Poutine. It consists of chips with curd cheese and covered in gravy. It is truly disgusting to behold, but it's everywhere. And the love of gravy extends beyond Poutine. Last night I ordered a hamburger. It arrived with chips and coleslaw and gravy - poured over the bun! Extraordinary, and revolting.
To be fair, I have in general eaten very well here and much of the food, especially seafood, is very good. But one has to be careful of the gravy fairy, she pops up when one least expects her.
And one thing not directly related to the tour. I brought an e-reader with me - great gadget - and on it I had stored the Stieg Larsson Millennium trilogy; the girl with the dragon tattoo, etc. I know everyone else in the world has already read these books, so I'm probably telling nobody anything they don't already know, but they are superb. Certainly among the best crime/detective fiction I have read.
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
Day 24: Tadoussac to Rimouski
100km/62m (not including the ferry), 4hrs47mins, 21kph/13mph, 590m/1918ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance so far, 1577km/978m.
Made it to the Gaspe peninsula today, courtesy of the ferry from Les Escoumins to Trois Pistoles. Up early, 40km from Tadoussac to Les Escoumins, where I had time for a rather excellent second breakfast before boarding the ferry. A ninety-minute journey, during which I saw more beluga whales, and the weather changed dramatically. I'd got pretty wet on the ride from Tadoussac, but by the time we arrived at Trois-Pistoles it was dry and hot, not just warm. And the first half of the route to Rimouski was flat, so I was able to rattle along.
Another word here for the bike nerds. I can't speak too highly of the bike. To be fair, it's probably heavier than one would need for most purposes, but fully loaded it is truly impressive. The stability is remarkable. With front and rear panniers, which catch a lot of wind, plus other stuff on the rear rack, plus me, I touched 73.2kph/45mph on a downhill section today without a moments anxiety. No wobble, no flex in the frame, absolutely solid. The Rohloff hub is terrific, too. Being able to shift down while stationary for hill starts is useful, and I've been grateful for the range of gears. And I've had no mechanical problems, not even a puncture. I've replaced a set of brake blocks, changed the oil in the Rohloff, lubed the chain and pumped up the tyres, but that's it so far. Not bad given that by the end of tomorrow I'll have covered more than 1000 miles. Long may it continue.
Sorry folks, back to the trip. So far, Gaspe reminds me of Scotland but with clapperboard houses. I have, however, only seen the first 60km of the coastal road and I expect things to get more dramatic tomorrow. And after a hot afternoon there is currently a thunderstorm, nicely timed to occur now that I am safely ensconced in a motel. Happy days. And there are some more pictures here, including a few of some apparently small whales...
Cumulative distance so far, 1577km/978m.
Made it to the Gaspe peninsula today, courtesy of the ferry from Les Escoumins to Trois Pistoles. Up early, 40km from Tadoussac to Les Escoumins, where I had time for a rather excellent second breakfast before boarding the ferry. A ninety-minute journey, during which I saw more beluga whales, and the weather changed dramatically. I'd got pretty wet on the ride from Tadoussac, but by the time we arrived at Trois-Pistoles it was dry and hot, not just warm. And the first half of the route to Rimouski was flat, so I was able to rattle along.
Another word here for the bike nerds. I can't speak too highly of the bike. To be fair, it's probably heavier than one would need for most purposes, but fully loaded it is truly impressive. The stability is remarkable. With front and rear panniers, which catch a lot of wind, plus other stuff on the rear rack, plus me, I touched 73.2kph/45mph on a downhill section today without a moments anxiety. No wobble, no flex in the frame, absolutely solid. The Rohloff hub is terrific, too. Being able to shift down while stationary for hill starts is useful, and I've been grateful for the range of gears. And I've had no mechanical problems, not even a puncture. I've replaced a set of brake blocks, changed the oil in the Rohloff, lubed the chain and pumped up the tyres, but that's it so far. Not bad given that by the end of tomorrow I'll have covered more than 1000 miles. Long may it continue.
Sorry folks, back to the trip. So far, Gaspe reminds me of Scotland but with clapperboard houses. I have, however, only seen the first 60km of the coastal road and I expect things to get more dramatic tomorrow. And after a hot afternoon there is currently a thunderstorm, nicely timed to occur now that I am safely ensconced in a motel. Happy days. And there are some more pictures here, including a few of some apparently small whales...
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Day 23: whale-watching at Tadoussac
A trip on a Zodiac inflatable this morning to whale-watch. a beautiful day for it, bright sunshine and almost flat calm.
No spectacular breaches by humpbacks or right whales to report, but lots of Minke whales and Belugas surprisingly close to the boat. Incredibly difficult to get a decent photograph, eventually I gave up trying and just watched. But I have a couple that I'll post when I have a better connection. Don't expect too much, they look small even with a 15x zoom. But a great experience. Funnily enough, it had never occurred to me that one would hear them breathe, but that is the most striking thing. Frequently the first one knows that there's a whale nearby is when it exhales and attracts one's attention.
And more good news. I can go to Gaspe after all. On reading my blog yesterday, my friend Jeanie e-mailed me to tell me there's another ferry across the St Lawrence operating 50 miles or so upriver. So that's where I'm going tomorrow, having (this time) checked that it is indeed operating according to the schedule.
Incidentally, don't come here in Spring if you have hay fever. The pollen count must be astronomical among the trees, I can see it falling on the screen as I type this. I am not allergic, and even I have been sneezing today.
No spectacular breaches by humpbacks or right whales to report, but lots of Minke whales and Belugas surprisingly close to the boat. Incredibly difficult to get a decent photograph, eventually I gave up trying and just watched. But I have a couple that I'll post when I have a better connection. Don't expect too much, they look small even with a 15x zoom. But a great experience. Funnily enough, it had never occurred to me that one would hear them breathe, but that is the most striking thing. Frequently the first one knows that there's a whale nearby is when it exhales and attracts one's attention.
And more good news. I can go to Gaspe after all. On reading my blog yesterday, my friend Jeanie e-mailed me to tell me there's another ferry across the St Lawrence operating 50 miles or so upriver. So that's where I'm going tomorrow, having (this time) checked that it is indeed operating according to the schedule.
Incidentally, don't come here in Spring if you have hay fever. The pollen count must be astronomical among the trees, I can see it falling on the screen as I type this. I am not allergic, and even I have been sneezing today.
Monday, 30 May 2011
Day 22: Pointe-au-Pic to Tadoussac
78km/48m, 5hrs30mins, 14.2kph/8.8mph, 1148m/3731ft of climbing.
The forecasters were right. A beautiful day. Still the usual easterly headwind, but bright sunlight, warm but not too hot, riding through spectacular scenery with the St Lawrence - now absolutely massive, one can only just see the far bank - glistening on one side and the mountains on the other. It really is outstandingly beautiful here. I'll post a picture of the view from my campsite above Tadoussac, it's extraordinary.
I'm staying here for two nights and taking a day off tomorrow to go whale-watching. Hope I see some; I shall report back.
And I shall spend the remainder of my rest day undertaking a major revision of my planned route. I called at St Simeon today to check the times of the ferry sailings from there to Gaspesie, on the other side of the St Lawrence. The ferry runs from April to November, according to the Quebec tourism site on the basis of which I planned my itinerary. But not this year. This year the ferry operators aren't reopening the service until 15 June. Too late for me, by 15 June I need to be on my way back to Toronto if I am to catch my flight home. I could retrace my steps to Quebec, cross the river there and cycle three days up the south bank to get where the ferry would have taken me, but the time pressure would turn it into a race rather than a tour, and I don't want to do that. So Gaspe is out, unfortunately.
Still, nil desperandum. There's more than a million square kilometres of Quebec to explore on this side of the St Lawrence, including three highly-regarded national parks, so I'll do that instead, then return south by a different route and still do the New England tour as planned. One must be able to improvise, n'est-ce pas?
The forecasters were right. A beautiful day. Still the usual easterly headwind, but bright sunlight, warm but not too hot, riding through spectacular scenery with the St Lawrence - now absolutely massive, one can only just see the far bank - glistening on one side and the mountains on the other. It really is outstandingly beautiful here. I'll post a picture of the view from my campsite above Tadoussac, it's extraordinary.
I'm staying here for two nights and taking a day off tomorrow to go whale-watching. Hope I see some; I shall report back.
And I shall spend the remainder of my rest day undertaking a major revision of my planned route. I called at St Simeon today to check the times of the ferry sailings from there to Gaspesie, on the other side of the St Lawrence. The ferry runs from April to November, according to the Quebec tourism site on the basis of which I planned my itinerary. But not this year. This year the ferry operators aren't reopening the service until 15 June. Too late for me, by 15 June I need to be on my way back to Toronto if I am to catch my flight home. I could retrace my steps to Quebec, cross the river there and cycle three days up the south bank to get where the ferry would have taken me, but the time pressure would turn it into a race rather than a tour, and I don't want to do that. So Gaspe is out, unfortunately.
Still, nil desperandum. There's more than a million square kilometres of Quebec to explore on this side of the St Lawrence, including three highly-regarded national parks, so I'll do that instead, then return south by a different route and still do the New England tour as planned. One must be able to improvise, n'est-ce pas?
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Day 21: Baie-Saint-Paul to Malbaie, Pointe-au-Pic
45km/28m, 3hrs20mins, 13.6kph/8.4mph, 959m/3116ft of climbing.
A very short day today, curtailed by the weather, which was foul.
The region I am cycling through is called Charlevoix, and very beautiful it is even in the rain. The topography is apparently the result of a meteorite impact; a meteorite 2km in diameter struck more or less at my current location about 250 million years ago. Must have been a hell of a bang.
The scenery, when you can see it through the rain, is great. Panoramic views of the St. Lawrence in one direction, mountains (think Alpine foothills) in the other. And picturesque villages, notably Les Eboulements in the exact centre of the crater.
Dramatic scenery usually means challenging terrain, and today was no exception, as you can see from the average speed and distance climbed. Some very severe gradients; an OS map of the route would be peppered with double chevrons. If this continues, anyone who wants to race me up a hill when I get home had better have oxygen on standby at the top.
It's supposed to be sunny tomorrow...
A very short day today, curtailed by the weather, which was foul.
The region I am cycling through is called Charlevoix, and very beautiful it is even in the rain. The topography is apparently the result of a meteorite impact; a meteorite 2km in diameter struck more or less at my current location about 250 million years ago. Must have been a hell of a bang.
The scenery, when you can see it through the rain, is great. Panoramic views of the St. Lawrence in one direction, mountains (think Alpine foothills) in the other. And picturesque villages, notably Les Eboulements in the exact centre of the crater.
Dramatic scenery usually means challenging terrain, and today was no exception, as you can see from the average speed and distance climbed. Some very severe gradients; an OS map of the route would be peppered with double chevrons. If this continues, anyone who wants to race me up a hill when I get home had better have oxygen on standby at the top.
It's supposed to be sunny tomorrow...
Saturday, 28 May 2011
Days 18, 19, 20: Quebec City to Baie-St-Paul
Days 18 and 19. Rest days, Quebec City
Two very enjoyable days in Quebec with Pete and Jeanie. Did the tour of the Citadel (our guide repeatedly reminding us that although built by the British, it was designed by a Frenchman and was, therefore, entirely French), walked round the museum, had look at the excellent farmer's market and, in between, had some very high-quality food and drink.
Old Quebec is, as I said in the previous entry, very much a French Provincial Capital. One would be unsurprised to find it in the Dordogne but it is, of course, unique in North America and is therefore very much frequented by tourists. Well worth a visit, I'd say, and two days seemed about right. The old town isn't that big, so it's possible to get a good sense of the place in that time.
Day 20: Quebec to Baie-St-Paul.
95km/59m, 6hrs 40mins, 14.2kph/8.8mph(!), 1049m/3409ft of climbing.
Bit off more than I could chew today and as a result had to change my plans en route for the first time this trip. The planned destination was a campsite in the Grands Jardins National Park, which would have entailed a ride of about 125km. This seemed perfectly reasonable as while I knew there'd be some climbing involved in getting to the park at the end of the journey, three-quarters of the trip was on highway 138 which sticks pretty close to the St Lawrence and would be, I thought, fairly flat.
Silly me. Getting from more-or-less sea level at Quebec to more -or-less sea level at Baie-St-Paul involves a proper mountain pass that took me up to 740m/2400ft and back again. And the wind was blowing from the east, and it was cold up there (I find that I am always faster when it's warm) and while it wasn't raining, it may as well have been as the cloud ceiling was well below the summit of the pass. All this conspired to make it slow going and by lunchtime I'd decided that there was no sensible reason for sticking to the planned route. It would have taken me about 9 hours of cycling and that's a very long day. So here I am in the Hotel Baie-St-Paul.
I probably haven't done a very good job of selling today to those who might be sceptical about the joys of cycle touring. Actually, I had a pretty good time. It was good to have some proper climbs at last and prove to myself that the weight isn't going to stop me covering decent distances in the mountains. And the long descent into Baie-St-Paul is completely untechnical, with long sweeping bends and excellent visibility, so I was able to come down without touching the brakes, in perfect safety, while sometimes getting above 60kph. Exhilarating.
Two very enjoyable days in Quebec with Pete and Jeanie. Did the tour of the Citadel (our guide repeatedly reminding us that although built by the British, it was designed by a Frenchman and was, therefore, entirely French), walked round the museum, had look at the excellent farmer's market and, in between, had some very high-quality food and drink.
Old Quebec is, as I said in the previous entry, very much a French Provincial Capital. One would be unsurprised to find it in the Dordogne but it is, of course, unique in North America and is therefore very much frequented by tourists. Well worth a visit, I'd say, and two days seemed about right. The old town isn't that big, so it's possible to get a good sense of the place in that time.
Day 20: Quebec to Baie-St-Paul.
95km/59m, 6hrs 40mins, 14.2kph/8.8mph(!), 1049m/3409ft of climbing.
Bit off more than I could chew today and as a result had to change my plans en route for the first time this trip. The planned destination was a campsite in the Grands Jardins National Park, which would have entailed a ride of about 125km. This seemed perfectly reasonable as while I knew there'd be some climbing involved in getting to the park at the end of the journey, three-quarters of the trip was on highway 138 which sticks pretty close to the St Lawrence and would be, I thought, fairly flat.
Silly me. Getting from more-or-less sea level at Quebec to more -or-less sea level at Baie-St-Paul involves a proper mountain pass that took me up to 740m/2400ft and back again. And the wind was blowing from the east, and it was cold up there (I find that I am always faster when it's warm) and while it wasn't raining, it may as well have been as the cloud ceiling was well below the summit of the pass. All this conspired to make it slow going and by lunchtime I'd decided that there was no sensible reason for sticking to the planned route. It would have taken me about 9 hours of cycling and that's a very long day. So here I am in the Hotel Baie-St-Paul.
I probably haven't done a very good job of selling today to those who might be sceptical about the joys of cycle touring. Actually, I had a pretty good time. It was good to have some proper climbs at last and prove to myself that the weight isn't going to stop me covering decent distances in the mountains. And the long descent into Baie-St-Paul is completely untechnical, with long sweeping bends and excellent visibility, so I was able to come down without touching the brakes, in perfect safety, while sometimes getting above 60kph. Exhilarating.
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Day 17: St Marc des Carrieres to Quebec City
81km/50m, 4hrs 40mins, 17.4kph/10.8mph, 362m/1176ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance so far, 1259km/779m.
A very gentle ride into Quebec City this morning. Until, that is, the Avenue de Saint-Sacrement, in the heart of the city, provided the steepest hill of the trip so far. Had me reaching for gears that I'd hoped to save for Gaspesie and the Appalachians. Mercifully brief, though, and at the hostel early enough to get myself unpacked before going out to lunch - which is where you find me. Hostelling again, very impressed by the Quebec hostel, which is excellently located in the old town. First impressions of the old town also very positive, just like a French provincial capital; which is, of course, what it is.
Tomorrow Pete and Jeanie arrive and we spend a couple of days here exploring the City, its bars and restaurants. Can't wait.
A few more pics here.
Cumulative distance so far, 1259km/779m.
A very gentle ride into Quebec City this morning. Until, that is, the Avenue de Saint-Sacrement, in the heart of the city, provided the steepest hill of the trip so far. Had me reaching for gears that I'd hoped to save for Gaspesie and the Appalachians. Mercifully brief, though, and at the hostel early enough to get myself unpacked before going out to lunch - which is where you find me. Hostelling again, very impressed by the Quebec hostel, which is excellently located in the old town. First impressions of the old town also very positive, just like a French provincial capital; which is, of course, what it is.
Tomorrow Pete and Jeanie arrive and we spend a couple of days here exploring the City, its bars and restaurants. Can't wait.
A few more pics here.
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
Days 15 and 16: Berthierville to St Marc des Carrieres.
Day 15. Berthierville to La Mauricie National Park.
117km/73m, 6hrs12mins, 18.8kph/11.7mph, 457m/1485ft of climbing.
Terrific day today. On the road by about 0730, because I was expecting it be a fairly long day. That worked out well, too, as I took advantage of the first section being very flat to pile on a bit more pace than usual. 25km in the first hour - pedestrian on the road bike but electric on this - and about 35km, more than a quarter of the day's journey, by 0900. Very good for the morale to have made that much progress so early in the day. And I'm starting to see the physical benefit of putting in all these miles, I felt strong all day and able to press on at a half-decent pace.
A day of two halves, one might say. The first 60km through flat, largely arable, farmland. Lots of quite attractive little farming communities, the style of much of the housing now distinctly French. Then a gradual transition back to the wild, with the birch and pine forest first infiltrating and then entirely supplanting the agricultural land. Roads quiet everywhere; I believe it's the last day of a holiday weekend, so maybe that accounts for it. Weather overcast for most of the day...
Until Shawnigan, that is. It's a fairly substantial town north of Trois Rivieres and I stopped there for lunch. About five minutes after restarting it became very dark. I had just about enough time to don the rainjacket and switch on my rear light when there was a crash of thunder and the rain began to fall. And such rain. Rain of an intensity I have very rarely been out in, and have certainly never ridden a bike through. It was a deluge, a torrent, an inundation. C'etait incroyable. Fortunately it was also relatively brief - within about 15 minutes it eased to being merely heavy, and after half-an-hour it had stopped.
It gives me a chance to do a couple of product reviews. First, sealskin socks. For the benefit of the uninitiated, these are socks with a waterproof Gore-Tex liner that are meant to keep your feet dry even if your shoes get wet. I've used them for a while on the bike in UK winters and in general they work OK. However, I can now advise that in extreme conditions the rain simply runs down one's leg in such quantity as to get into the sock from the top. And once inside, the efficiency of the Gore- Tex liner means that it can't get out again! So one rides along for a while with one's feet encased in plastic bags full of cold water. This is not great, but makes for an entertaining spectacle at the roadside as the passing foreign cyclist stops and empties his socks!
Second, and in complete contrast, Vaude waterproof panniers. Despite the downpour, all my gear remained perfectly dry. Remarkable.
So, to my destination for the night, which is a campground in La Mauricie National Park. Just a small park, as the nice man at the entrance advised me when he pointed out that the campsite I had reserved on-line was 65 kilometres from that particular gate. A bit like entering the Yorkshire Dales National Park at Skipton and being told your accommodation was in Reeth. Since I had already covered 112km that day, I gratefully accepted his suggestion that he switch my reservation to a campsite just 5km away. And very beautiful it was. Another tranquil, solitary night in not-quite wilderness. And with one's food hanging in a tree, of course.
Day 16: Parc de la Mauricie to St Marc des Carrieres
103km/64m, 5hrs17mins, 19.5kph/12.1mph, 406m/1320ft of climbing.
Zig-zagging back south today, back into farming country en route to Quebec City. But on departing La Mauricie, a word in praise of the Canadian National Parks people. On the basis of my experience so far, these places are brilliantly managed and strike a superb balance between the tight regulation needed to protect the near-wilderness environment and the latitude needed to allow visitors to explore and enjoy it. Difficult to see how it could be done much better, I think.
It had rained heavily overnight but was dry when I got up, and my luck held. It constantly threatened rain, and at one point I took cover in a McDonalds, of all places, as a specially black cloud approached - memories of yesterday - but though I frequently rode through places where it had rained very recently, barely a drop fell on me. And the weather brightened as the day went on, so that for the last couple of hours I was riding in brilliant, and hot, sunshine. And for that couple of hours I even had a following wind, my first of the trip. it doesn't half make it easier.
117km/73m, 6hrs12mins, 18.8kph/11.7mph, 457m/1485ft of climbing.
Terrific day today. On the road by about 0730, because I was expecting it be a fairly long day. That worked out well, too, as I took advantage of the first section being very flat to pile on a bit more pace than usual. 25km in the first hour - pedestrian on the road bike but electric on this - and about 35km, more than a quarter of the day's journey, by 0900. Very good for the morale to have made that much progress so early in the day. And I'm starting to see the physical benefit of putting in all these miles, I felt strong all day and able to press on at a half-decent pace.
A day of two halves, one might say. The first 60km through flat, largely arable, farmland. Lots of quite attractive little farming communities, the style of much of the housing now distinctly French. Then a gradual transition back to the wild, with the birch and pine forest first infiltrating and then entirely supplanting the agricultural land. Roads quiet everywhere; I believe it's the last day of a holiday weekend, so maybe that accounts for it. Weather overcast for most of the day...
Until Shawnigan, that is. It's a fairly substantial town north of Trois Rivieres and I stopped there for lunch. About five minutes after restarting it became very dark. I had just about enough time to don the rainjacket and switch on my rear light when there was a crash of thunder and the rain began to fall. And such rain. Rain of an intensity I have very rarely been out in, and have certainly never ridden a bike through. It was a deluge, a torrent, an inundation. C'etait incroyable. Fortunately it was also relatively brief - within about 15 minutes it eased to being merely heavy, and after half-an-hour it had stopped.
It gives me a chance to do a couple of product reviews. First, sealskin socks. For the benefit of the uninitiated, these are socks with a waterproof Gore-Tex liner that are meant to keep your feet dry even if your shoes get wet. I've used them for a while on the bike in UK winters and in general they work OK. However, I can now advise that in extreme conditions the rain simply runs down one's leg in such quantity as to get into the sock from the top. And once inside, the efficiency of the Gore- Tex liner means that it can't get out again! So one rides along for a while with one's feet encased in plastic bags full of cold water. This is not great, but makes for an entertaining spectacle at the roadside as the passing foreign cyclist stops and empties his socks!
Second, and in complete contrast, Vaude waterproof panniers. Despite the downpour, all my gear remained perfectly dry. Remarkable.
So, to my destination for the night, which is a campground in La Mauricie National Park. Just a small park, as the nice man at the entrance advised me when he pointed out that the campsite I had reserved on-line was 65 kilometres from that particular gate. A bit like entering the Yorkshire Dales National Park at Skipton and being told your accommodation was in Reeth. Since I had already covered 112km that day, I gratefully accepted his suggestion that he switch my reservation to a campsite just 5km away. And very beautiful it was. Another tranquil, solitary night in not-quite wilderness. And with one's food hanging in a tree, of course.
Day 16: Parc de la Mauricie to St Marc des Carrieres
103km/64m, 5hrs17mins, 19.5kph/12.1mph, 406m/1320ft of climbing.
Zig-zagging back south today, back into farming country en route to Quebec City. But on departing La Mauricie, a word in praise of the Canadian National Parks people. On the basis of my experience so far, these places are brilliantly managed and strike a superb balance between the tight regulation needed to protect the near-wilderness environment and the latitude needed to allow visitors to explore and enjoy it. Difficult to see how it could be done much better, I think.
It had rained heavily overnight but was dry when I got up, and my luck held. It constantly threatened rain, and at one point I took cover in a McDonalds, of all places, as a specially black cloud approached - memories of yesterday - but though I frequently rode through places where it had rained very recently, barely a drop fell on me. And the weather brightened as the day went on, so that for the last couple of hours I was riding in brilliant, and hot, sunshine. And for that couple of hours I even had a following wind, my first of the trip. it doesn't half make it easier.
Sunday, 22 May 2011
Day 14: Montreal to Berthierville
76km/47m, 4hrs10mins, 18.3kph/11.4mph, 91m/295ft of climbing.
The day started poorly. I left my watch and sunglasses in a bathroom in the hostel, and didn't realise until I was ready to leave an hour or so later. Inevitably, they were gone. However, I've replaced the sunglasses for a few dollars and I'd brought my cheapest watch. And what do I need a watch for anyway? I have no appointments to keep.
Perfect cycling weather, not too hot, very little wind, dry. I opted for a navigation-free day, simply riding the highway 148 along the bank of the St. Lawrence for as far as I wanted to go. Not a route I'd have chosen normally, but it's Sunday and I guessed - rightly as it turned out - that there'd be very little traffic. So, a pleasant and easy day, and maybe the flattest route I've ever cycled.
The St Lawrence is some river. I'd been riding beside it for many kilometres before I grasped that what I had thought was the opposite bank was in fact an island, and there was an equal breadth of water on the far side. Immense, and still about 800km before it gets to the sea.
Tonight in a nice little motel absolutely on the riverbank. I like motels, they all seem perfectly happy to let the bike stay in the room with me. Tomorrow, back to camping in a National Park.
The day started poorly. I left my watch and sunglasses in a bathroom in the hostel, and didn't realise until I was ready to leave an hour or so later. Inevitably, they were gone. However, I've replaced the sunglasses for a few dollars and I'd brought my cheapest watch. And what do I need a watch for anyway? I have no appointments to keep.
Perfect cycling weather, not too hot, very little wind, dry. I opted for a navigation-free day, simply riding the highway 148 along the bank of the St. Lawrence for as far as I wanted to go. Not a route I'd have chosen normally, but it's Sunday and I guessed - rightly as it turned out - that there'd be very little traffic. So, a pleasant and easy day, and maybe the flattest route I've ever cycled.
The St Lawrence is some river. I'd been riding beside it for many kilometres before I grasped that what I had thought was the opposite bank was in fact an island, and there was an equal breadth of water on the far side. Immense, and still about 800km before it gets to the sea.
Tonight in a nice little motel absolutely on the riverbank. I like motels, they all seem perfectly happy to let the bike stay in the room with me. Tomorrow, back to camping in a National Park.
Saturday, 21 May 2011
Days 12 and 13: Rest days, Montreal
Two days relaxing in a very sunny Montreal.
I have done what I usually do when visiting a new city, just walked and walked, looking around, getting a feel for the place. The old port, Outremont, Mont Royal, Westmount, I've wandered for miles. And I am warming to it.
I wasn't that impressed, initially. Not an especially good-looking city architecturally, I don't think, lacking the quality that makes Vancouver seem such a nice environment despite its shining modernity - something that downtown Montreal shares. But as I continued to roam around I began to like the feel of the place. It has a relaxed ambience, there's obviously a load of interesting places to eat and drink and a host of festivals of one type or another. I'd quite like to be here for the jazz festival in early July, it's clearly a monster. Unfortunately I have a prior engagement with Niagara falls about that time. There are loads of cyclists here, by the way, many of them on hipster fixed-gear bikes.
Speaking of eating, I came across an absolutely superb vegan restaurant Crudessence, on Mackay north of Sainte Catherine, which makes a version of a Waldorf salad that I would happily nominate for the world Waldorf salad championship. And a drink called a Bombe Verte made of mango, pineapple, kale, spirulina, matcha(?) and almond milk which is unexpectedly delicious as well as luridly green. Highly recommended if you're planning a visit here.
So, two very pleasant days. But I find myself quite keen to get back on the bike. Four more days riding before my next major destination, Quebec City. In the meantime, here's a link to some pictures. There'll be more as the weeks pass.
I have done what I usually do when visiting a new city, just walked and walked, looking around, getting a feel for the place. The old port, Outremont, Mont Royal, Westmount, I've wandered for miles. And I am warming to it.
I wasn't that impressed, initially. Not an especially good-looking city architecturally, I don't think, lacking the quality that makes Vancouver seem such a nice environment despite its shining modernity - something that downtown Montreal shares. But as I continued to roam around I began to like the feel of the place. It has a relaxed ambience, there's obviously a load of interesting places to eat and drink and a host of festivals of one type or another. I'd quite like to be here for the jazz festival in early July, it's clearly a monster. Unfortunately I have a prior engagement with Niagara falls about that time. There are loads of cyclists here, by the way, many of them on hipster fixed-gear bikes.
Speaking of eating, I came across an absolutely superb vegan restaurant Crudessence, on Mackay north of Sainte Catherine, which makes a version of a Waldorf salad that I would happily nominate for the world Waldorf salad championship. And a drink called a Bombe Verte made of mango, pineapple, kale, spirulina, matcha(?) and almond milk which is unexpectedly delicious as well as luridly green. Highly recommended if you're planning a visit here.
So, two very pleasant days. But I find myself quite keen to get back on the bike. Four more days riding before my next major destination, Quebec City. In the meantime, here's a link to some pictures. There'll be more as the weeks pass.
Thursday, 19 May 2011
Day 11: Papineauville to Montreal
133km/82m, 7hrs50mins, 17kph/10.6mph, 412m/1339ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance so far, 882km/545m.
Montreal! I had planned to take two days to do the 130-odd km from Papineauville to Montreal, but at lunchtime I felt pretty strong, the terrain was pan-flat and therefore uninteresting as well as easy, and the weather - foul when I started this morning - had turned nice. So, I decided to exert myself and do the whole distance in one shift. Really pleased I did, too. Montreal was the first real goal I had set myself, so to have got here a day early and in good shape feels rather good. And an extra day in Montreal can't be a bad thing.
I am staying at the "Auberge de Jeunesse" - the youth hostel, in our language. Miraculously, there is at least one guest who is even less youthful than me; and by a significant margin. The hostel is excellent, and costs less than most of the campsites charge you to pitch a tent. (Plug for hostelling international - no charge)
For anyone who is eccentric enough to want to do this sort of trip, the section of highway 148 between Thurso and Grenville is the only road I have so far encountered that I would go out of my way to avoid. My friends in the North East will know what I mean if I say it is like cycling the A19. However, at Grenville it completely changes its character, because most of the heavy traffic turns onto the 50; and for the next 30 km or so everything is sweetness and light. After that cycling into the heart of Montreal is like any other big city, but with more red lights; they seem to appear every 100 metres.
As I mentioned, the decision to do the whole distance in one day was made at lunchtime. This was probably influenced by the lunch itself - three courses, including a pea soup you could stand your spoon up in, in a no-nonsense transport cafe on the 148. Very sustaining. $10.20.
Cumulative distance so far, 882km/545m.
Montreal! I had planned to take two days to do the 130-odd km from Papineauville to Montreal, but at lunchtime I felt pretty strong, the terrain was pan-flat and therefore uninteresting as well as easy, and the weather - foul when I started this morning - had turned nice. So, I decided to exert myself and do the whole distance in one shift. Really pleased I did, too. Montreal was the first real goal I had set myself, so to have got here a day early and in good shape feels rather good. And an extra day in Montreal can't be a bad thing.
I am staying at the "Auberge de Jeunesse" - the youth hostel, in our language. Miraculously, there is at least one guest who is even less youthful than me; and by a significant margin. The hostel is excellent, and costs less than most of the campsites charge you to pitch a tent. (Plug for hostelling international - no charge)
For anyone who is eccentric enough to want to do this sort of trip, the section of highway 148 between Thurso and Grenville is the only road I have so far encountered that I would go out of my way to avoid. My friends in the North East will know what I mean if I say it is like cycling the A19. However, at Grenville it completely changes its character, because most of the heavy traffic turns onto the 50; and for the next 30 km or so everything is sweetness and light. After that cycling into the heart of Montreal is like any other big city, but with more red lights; they seem to appear every 100 metres.
As I mentioned, the decision to do the whole distance in one day was made at lunchtime. This was probably influenced by the lunch itself - three courses, including a pea soup you could stand your spoon up in, in a no-nonsense transport cafe on the 148. Very sustaining. $10.20.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
Day 10: Wakefield to Papineauville
95km/59m, 6hrs31mins, 14.5kph/9mph, 768m/2496ft of climbing.
It would be nice were the wind to blow from the west one of these days. The headwind was relentless today, turning it into one of those days when all you can do is put your head down and slog it out. The only day so far when I have been focussed on getting to the destination as opposed to enjoying the ride. Hard going.
Still, it had its moments. A very close encounter with a golden eagle that cruised along the road only 20 or so feet above my head for maybe 100 metres or so. And an extremely quirky lunch stop. I was hungry and it started to rain so I took advantage of a birdwatchers hide for shelter while I ate. Not much to see in the way of birds, though, beyond a big flock of Canada geese. There are a lot of them about here, surprisingly.
And at Papineauville a nice B&B and an excellent dinner served by the first waiter I have encountered who had virtually no English. We managed, though.
It would be nice were the wind to blow from the west one of these days. The headwind was relentless today, turning it into one of those days when all you can do is put your head down and slog it out. The only day so far when I have been focussed on getting to the destination as opposed to enjoying the ride. Hard going.
Still, it had its moments. A very close encounter with a golden eagle that cruised along the road only 20 or so feet above my head for maybe 100 metres or so. And an extremely quirky lunch stop. I was hungry and it started to rain so I took advantage of a birdwatchers hide for shelter while I ate. Not much to see in the way of birds, though, beyond a big flock of Canada geese. There are a lot of them about here, surprisingly.
And at Papineauville a nice B&B and an excellent dinner served by the first waiter I have encountered who had virtually no English. We managed, though.
Tuesday, 17 May 2011
Day 9: Rest Day
While eating a genuinely excellent meal at Cafe Chez Eric yesterday evening I decided to make today a rest day. My accommodation in Montreal is booked for 20 and 21 May, so I have four days to get there and am only three days away. Also, I've ridden for eight successive days and it's probably good policy to give my aged muscles a chance to recover even though I have been taking it relatively easy so far. Speaking of fitness, here's one for the students of cycling training, otherwise known as my fellow nerds. My resting heart rate is 43 today, 5 lower than it was at the start of the trip. Long steady distance training clearly still has its place. Though to be fair, not many people can afford the time to spend 5 hours a day on the bike.
Pause for reflection on the trip so far. In particular, how does cycle touring in Canada compare with the UK?
First, the traffic is different. Roads that Canadians clearly think are hazardous for cyclists seem pretty quiet to me; some that are designated as highways are virtually deserted by British standards. And they tend to be straighter, so sight lines are good, and many have rideable "shoulders" that can keep you out of the main carriageway altogether. It would be silly to overstate this, I've been passed too close by some pretty big trucks, but the contrast is there and I suspect that cyclists accustomed to Canadian conditions would find a British "A" road a pretty scary proposition at first.
Second, there are fewer cyclists here. This may be a function of my starting very early in the season - the snow isn't long off the ground in parts of southern Quebec - but in 8 days and well over 600kms I have seen one other touring cyclist.
Third, DOGS. Some dogs chase cyclists in the UK, of course, but it's a minority interest. Here it is clearly the canine national sport. Virtually every dog I have passed has set off in pursuit, one with such enthusiasm it snapped the chain that was supposed to restrict it to its own front lawn. Only one has looked like catching me, forcing me into a demonstration that I can still accelerate hard even with 25 kilos of luggage. So what is it that Canadian dogs have against cyclists? I don't get it.
A veggie restaurant tonight followed by a couple of pints in the rather good, and very friendly, local pub. Things could be worse.
Pause for reflection on the trip so far. In particular, how does cycle touring in Canada compare with the UK?
First, the traffic is different. Roads that Canadians clearly think are hazardous for cyclists seem pretty quiet to me; some that are designated as highways are virtually deserted by British standards. And they tend to be straighter, so sight lines are good, and many have rideable "shoulders" that can keep you out of the main carriageway altogether. It would be silly to overstate this, I've been passed too close by some pretty big trucks, but the contrast is there and I suspect that cyclists accustomed to Canadian conditions would find a British "A" road a pretty scary proposition at first.
Second, there are fewer cyclists here. This may be a function of my starting very early in the season - the snow isn't long off the ground in parts of southern Quebec - but in 8 days and well over 600kms I have seen one other touring cyclist.
Third, DOGS. Some dogs chase cyclists in the UK, of course, but it's a minority interest. Here it is clearly the canine national sport. Virtually every dog I have passed has set off in pursuit, one with such enthusiasm it snapped the chain that was supposed to restrict it to its own front lawn. Only one has looked like catching me, forcing me into a demonstration that I can still accelerate hard even with 25 kilos of luggage. So what is it that Canadian dogs have against cyclists? I don't get it.
A veggie restaurant tonight followed by a couple of pints in the rather good, and very friendly, local pub. Things could be worse.
Monday, 16 May 2011
Days 7 and 8: Pembroke to Wakefield
Day 7: Pembroke to Otter Lake
96km/59m, 5hrs58mins, 16kph/9.9mph, 559m/1817ft of climbing.
Fairly tough day today courtesy of a pretty stiff north-easterly headwind for the first couple of hours. Much colder than it has been, too. However, it stayed dry and in that I was lucky, because from what I picked up from the weather forecast this morning, virtually the whole of southern Ontario and Quebec were expecting rain. In any event, I started the day well: I had treated myself to a night in the Pembroke Travelodge, so set off with the benefit of an enormous hotel breakfast.
Immediately crossed the Ottawa River and entered Quebec. I continue to be impressed by the scale of the landscape. One crosses enormous rivers only to realise that they are mere tributaries of the St. Lawrence. There is an awful lot of water here. I seem to remember being told that one fifth of the world's fresh water was in the Great Lakes and another fifth in the Amazon Basin. If one adds in Ontario and Quebec, not to mention the Nile, it's no wonder there's a shortage elsewhere!
Stopped for lunch at a roadside cafe that could be described as unpretentious. Soup, the spaghetti special and dessert for $10.50. On this admittedly slight evidence it seems that Les Quebecois like their carbohydrates. Spaghetti Bolognese comes with two rounds of buttered toast on the side. Not that I was complaining; today was probably a 3000 calorie session on the bike.
Camped at the Parc Leslie, a campground on the shore of Lake Leslie near Otter Lake. Another campground that doesn't officially open until the coming weekend, but let me stay anyway. As a result I was the only camper; they checked twice that I understood they'd be leaving for the night and that I'd be on my own. I have certainly never spent a night in quite such isolated circumstances. Nobody around, no human-generated noise, no signal for phone, nothing. Just me and the local wildlife. Feeling slightly foolish, I did what the books tell you to and hung the bag containing my food in a tree. Though I must say that were I a bear, I'd be much more interested in the contents of the much more accessible tent.
It's never silent, of course. The birds go to sleep but there's the continuous exhalation of the wind in the trees, and other small noises. Nonetheless, the quietness is vast.
Day 8: Otter Lake to Wakefield
86km/53m, 5hrs58mins (again!), 14.4kph/8.9mph, 548m/1781m of climbing.
Much colder day today, about 8C. Rained on and off, though not heavily; the rain jacket was required for the cold rather than the wet. And my slowest day so far, principally because of a lengthy and ultimately abortive off-road foray in the middle. I intended to ride across the Parc de la Gatineau which meant using dirt tracks with pretty loose surfaces. That was working out fine, though, until about two-thirds of the way across the rains had washed away a small bridge over a river. A couple of planks had been laid across, but there'd have been no chance of making it on the laden bike, so I had to return whence I came. Still, got to see the inside of the Parc and was still early enough to find a decent B&B in Wakefield. Wakefield is not remotely like its West Yorkshire namesake, it's quite a pretty little town on a river. Seems well-stocked with restaurants too, one of which I am about to investigate.
96km/59m, 5hrs58mins, 16kph/9.9mph, 559m/1817ft of climbing.
Fairly tough day today courtesy of a pretty stiff north-easterly headwind for the first couple of hours. Much colder than it has been, too. However, it stayed dry and in that I was lucky, because from what I picked up from the weather forecast this morning, virtually the whole of southern Ontario and Quebec were expecting rain. In any event, I started the day well: I had treated myself to a night in the Pembroke Travelodge, so set off with the benefit of an enormous hotel breakfast.
Immediately crossed the Ottawa River and entered Quebec. I continue to be impressed by the scale of the landscape. One crosses enormous rivers only to realise that they are mere tributaries of the St. Lawrence. There is an awful lot of water here. I seem to remember being told that one fifth of the world's fresh water was in the Great Lakes and another fifth in the Amazon Basin. If one adds in Ontario and Quebec, not to mention the Nile, it's no wonder there's a shortage elsewhere!
Stopped for lunch at a roadside cafe that could be described as unpretentious. Soup, the spaghetti special and dessert for $10.50. On this admittedly slight evidence it seems that Les Quebecois like their carbohydrates. Spaghetti Bolognese comes with two rounds of buttered toast on the side. Not that I was complaining; today was probably a 3000 calorie session on the bike.
Camped at the Parc Leslie, a campground on the shore of Lake Leslie near Otter Lake. Another campground that doesn't officially open until the coming weekend, but let me stay anyway. As a result I was the only camper; they checked twice that I understood they'd be leaving for the night and that I'd be on my own. I have certainly never spent a night in quite such isolated circumstances. Nobody around, no human-generated noise, no signal for phone, nothing. Just me and the local wildlife. Feeling slightly foolish, I did what the books tell you to and hung the bag containing my food in a tree. Though I must say that were I a bear, I'd be much more interested in the contents of the much more accessible tent.
It's never silent, of course. The birds go to sleep but there's the continuous exhalation of the wind in the trees, and other small noises. Nonetheless, the quietness is vast.
Day 8: Otter Lake to Wakefield
86km/53m, 5hrs58mins (again!), 14.4kph/8.9mph, 548m/1781m of climbing.
Much colder day today, about 8C. Rained on and off, though not heavily; the rain jacket was required for the cold rather than the wet. And my slowest day so far, principally because of a lengthy and ultimately abortive off-road foray in the middle. I intended to ride across the Parc de la Gatineau which meant using dirt tracks with pretty loose surfaces. That was working out fine, though, until about two-thirds of the way across the rains had washed away a small bridge over a river. A couple of planks had been laid across, but there'd have been no chance of making it on the laden bike, so I had to return whence I came. Still, got to see the inside of the Parc and was still early enough to find a decent B&B in Wakefield. Wakefield is not remotely like its West Yorkshire namesake, it's quite a pretty little town on a river. Seems well-stocked with restaurants too, one of which I am about to investigate.
Saturday, 14 May 2011
Day 6: Tramore to Pembroke
60km/37m, 3hrs34mins, 16.7kph/10.3mph, 256m/780ft of climbing.
After (b)logging off last night I had a magical wildlife moment. I was sitting on the riverbank in the campsite, having a glass of wine and just enjoying the silence, when a beaver swam past me, pushing a birch branch before it, not ten feet from the bank. As it drew abreast of my position it looked right at me and dived out of my sight. But the fact that I just stayed where I was presumably persuaded it that I was no threat, because it made two further return trips in full view and in no apparent hurry. Terrific.
Slept for about nine hours - presumably the impact of yesterday's being the longest ride so far. But I was on my way by shortly after 0900, and had only a relatively flat 60km to go to the town of Pembroke, on the Ottawa River and, therefore, at the border between Ontario and Quebec. As predicted, my luck with the weather finally ran out and it rained pretty steadily throughout. And there's more of the same during the next few days. Quel dommage. (as you will see, I am preparing for Francophone Quebec)
After (b)logging off last night I had a magical wildlife moment. I was sitting on the riverbank in the campsite, having a glass of wine and just enjoying the silence, when a beaver swam past me, pushing a birch branch before it, not ten feet from the bank. As it drew abreast of my position it looked right at me and dived out of my sight. But the fact that I just stayed where I was presumably persuaded it that I was no threat, because it made two further return trips in full view and in no apparent hurry. Terrific.
Slept for about nine hours - presumably the impact of yesterday's being the longest ride so far. But I was on my way by shortly after 0900, and had only a relatively flat 60km to go to the town of Pembroke, on the Ottawa River and, therefore, at the border between Ontario and Quebec. As predicted, my luck with the weather finally ran out and it rained pretty steadily throughout. And there's more of the same during the next few days. Quel dommage. (as you will see, I am preparing for Francophone Quebec)
Friday, 13 May 2011
Days 4 and 5: Apsley to Tramore
Day 4: Apsley to Bancroft.
61km/38m, 3hrs37mins, 16.9kph/10.5mph, 477m/1550ft of climbing.
Sorry to be so painfully repetitive, but each day is more glorious than the last. They tell me it's going to rain tomorrow, though, so one day soon I'll be able to gratify my readers - assuming I have any readers- with tales of my toiling miserably through hideous conditions. But today is not that day: it started superbly and got better.
A relatively short ride today along highway 620 from Apsley to Bancroft. A wonderful, rolling, almost empty road through largely forested areas peppered with the inevitable lakes. And it provided the wildlife highlight of the trip so far, in the form of a moose drinking from a pool at the roadside as I rode by. Sadly she was unwilling to pose for a photograph, and ambled away into the trees as soon as I stopped. Not the most elegant of quadrupeds, the moose, but an animal I'd always wanted to see and one that had eluded me on previous trips to Canada.
So the wildlife score is one moose, one beaver, three eagles and a multitude of blackflies. The latter are only abroad in the spring and are enthusiastic enough to make one think twice about stopping - I seem to be able to outpace them on the bike. However, the 30% DEET spray I invested in seems an adequate deeterrent (groan). Scoring the west highland midge as a ten, I'd so far give them a tentative six.
The moose wasn't highway 620's only surprise. About half-way between Apsley and Bancroft, absolutely in the middle of nowhere, I came upon a general store with a bakery attached, turning out superb still-warm-from-the-oven Danish pastries and exceptional slightly chewy ginger biscuits. Quite remarkable; even if they supply absolutely everyone within a ten-mile radius they can only have a few hundred potential customers. But in this case they did well from the passing trade.
I wrote this at my campsite just outside Bancroft. Fairly basic, but plumbing and hot showers, and several cups of green tea courtesy of my jetboil stove. Green tea beats the pants off energy drinks as a restorative. I wonder why that should be, given that it hasn't a calorie to its name.
Day 5: Bancroft to Tramore
109km/68m, 6hrs 33mins, 16.6kph/10.3mph, 606m/2294ft of climbing.
Cumulative distance so far, 411km/255m.
Life on the road is full of surprises. I am blogging this from the comfort of my
Yurt at the Covered Bridge Campground, Tramore - a tiny place north of Killaloe near Golden Lake. I arrived looking for somewhere to pitch my tent but Andrew, the Polish owner, suggested that I save myself the bother and sleep in the Yurt instead for the same price. It's so early in the season here that most of the campsites are just opening and apart from a few people arriving to clean up their RVs and trailers after the winter, I'm his first visitor this year. Unfortunately I don't have any fermented Yak's milk to complete the Mongolian theme, so a glass of red wine will have to suffice. I've discovered that a wine bottle fits exactly in the bottle cages on the bike. Most convenient.
Today the longest so far, and undulating: which means, as those who have cycled with me before will know, decidedly lumpy. Much shorter ride tomorrow to Pembroke.
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Day 3: Bobcaygeon to Apsley
68km/42m, 4hrs24mins, 15.4kph/9.6mph, 398m/1294ft of climbing.
The weather gets better and better. 22C and glorious sunshine. I know it can't last, of course, and in fact rain is forecast for Sunday, but it's nice to have started in such benign conditions. Makes me optimistic.
Today felt more like the Canada I had imagined, riding through birch and pine forests virtually throughout. It felt hillier, too - though this was clearly my imagination as the garmin says I climbed less than on either of the previous days. Some beautiful scenery, not least in the
Kawartha Highlands Provincial Park an entrance to which is just across the road from my B&B. I had intended to ride right across the park but was forced to skirt most of it because there is no road that goes from one side to the other. I could have risked riding a hiking trail, but it would have made it a very slow and tough day even if I'd managed to avoid getting stuck.
Two striking examples of Canadian hospitality today. This morning I stopped at a "trading post" in the hope of buying a coffee. They didn't sell food and drink - hunting gear and fishing licences was their game - but the nice ladies who ran it simply made me a coffee anyway. No charge. Then this evening my hosts at the Creekside Inn B&B, Brian and Maureen, advised me that there was nowhere decent to eat in Apsley and invited me to dinner with their family. No charge.
Tomorrow a relatively short ride to Bancroft and my first night camping.
The weather gets better and better. 22C and glorious sunshine. I know it can't last, of course, and in fact rain is forecast for Sunday, but it's nice to have started in such benign conditions. Makes me optimistic.
Today felt more like the Canada I had imagined, riding through birch and pine forests virtually throughout. It felt hillier, too - though this was clearly my imagination as the garmin says I climbed less than on either of the previous days. Some beautiful scenery, not least in the
Kawartha Highlands Provincial Park an entrance to which is just across the road from my B&B. I had intended to ride right across the park but was forced to skirt most of it because there is no road that goes from one side to the other. I could have risked riding a hiking trail, but it would have made it a very slow and tough day even if I'd managed to avoid getting stuck.
Two striking examples of Canadian hospitality today. This morning I stopped at a "trading post" in the hope of buying a coffee. They didn't sell food and drink - hunting gear and fishing licences was their game - but the nice ladies who ran it simply made me a coffee anyway. No charge. Then this evening my hosts at the Creekside Inn B&B, Brian and Maureen, advised me that there was nowhere decent to eat in Apsley and invited me to dinner with their family. No charge.
Tomorrow a relatively short ride to Bancroft and my first night camping.
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Day 2: Port Perry to Bobcaygeon
88km/55miles, 5 hrs 31 mins, 15.9kph/9.9mph, 490m/1590ft of climbing.
I won't be updating this blog every day, but I may as well take advantage of a wireless connection while I can...
Terrific day on the bike today. Left Port Perry by the old main road which has long been superseded by a highway and largely abandoned by through traffic. So for the first couple of hours I was riding in beautiful sunshine and splendid isolation, sometimes not seeing a car for twenty minutes at a time.
Rolling farmland for mile upon mile. Already, not very far from Toronto, I begin to get some sense of the scale of this country and I expect that impression to grow stronger as the days pass. It's simply enormous. And places seem even further apart when you're riding into a headwind, as I was this afternoon.
Bobcaygeon isn't as picturesque a town as Port Perry, more a place one would pass through rather than making a special journey to visit. It's at the head of Pigeon Lake. There are lakes everywhere.
Tomorrow, Apsley: another 50 miles or so to the North East.
I won't be updating this blog every day, but I may as well take advantage of a wireless connection while I can...
Terrific day on the bike today. Left Port Perry by the old main road which has long been superseded by a highway and largely abandoned by through traffic. So for the first couple of hours I was riding in beautiful sunshine and splendid isolation, sometimes not seeing a car for twenty minutes at a time.
Rolling farmland for mile upon mile. Already, not very far from Toronto, I begin to get some sense of the scale of this country and I expect that impression to grow stronger as the days pass. It's simply enormous. And places seem even further apart when you're riding into a headwind, as I was this afternoon.
Bobcaygeon isn't as picturesque a town as Port Perry, more a place one would pass through rather than making a special journey to visit. It's at the head of Pigeon Lake. There are lakes everywhere.
Tomorrow, Apsley: another 50 miles or so to the North East.
Monday, 9 May 2011
Day 1. Toronto to Port Perry.
Monday 9 May. Toronto to Port Perry. 85 km/53m, 5hrs 28mins, 15.6kph/9.69mph, 710m/2343ft of climbing.
Flew into Toronto on Wednesday 4 May and spent four extremely convivial days with Paul and the Gearys. Really enjoyable - so enjoyable, in fact, that my intended start on Sunday morning had to be deferred for 24 hours due to a subsequent engagement with premiership football in a pub. Proper pub, too, I was impressed.
So, the tour started this morning in downtown Toronto. Having consulted my bicyclist's atlas of Ontario, I ignored the most direct route and instead left Toronto along the waterfront, skirting Lake Ontario to Oshawa before turning due north for Port Perry. Slightly fiddly route but didn't get lost too often, and never for very long. And a simply beautiful day, around 20C, sunny, light winds.
The bike looks as if it is going to live up to expectations, too. It's not the sportiest, and when ridden unladen feels pretty dead compared with a road bike. But it's built for load carrying, and with 90-odd kilos of me and another 25 of luggage it is as steady as a rock and handles beautifully.
Obviously, with all that weight I'm not going to break any speed records. Even moderate hills had me moving down through the gears and working quite hard, and though I deliberately took it fairly easy - there's a long way to go - an average speed of 10mph sets new standards of slowness. Having said that, Ontario isn't quite as flat as I had been led to believe. From Lake Ontario to Lake Scugog is rolling countryside with a distinctly upward trend.
Port Perry is a pretty little lakeside town and the Piano Cafe has very decent rooms. Tomorrow to Bobcaygeon another 50 or so miles north. And, remarkably, the forecast is for an even more beautiful day than today. Joy.
Flew into Toronto on Wednesday 4 May and spent four extremely convivial days with Paul and the Gearys. Really enjoyable - so enjoyable, in fact, that my intended start on Sunday morning had to be deferred for 24 hours due to a subsequent engagement with premiership football in a pub. Proper pub, too, I was impressed.
So, the tour started this morning in downtown Toronto. Having consulted my bicyclist's atlas of Ontario, I ignored the most direct route and instead left Toronto along the waterfront, skirting Lake Ontario to Oshawa before turning due north for Port Perry. Slightly fiddly route but didn't get lost too often, and never for very long. And a simply beautiful day, around 20C, sunny, light winds.
The bike looks as if it is going to live up to expectations, too. It's not the sportiest, and when ridden unladen feels pretty dead compared with a road bike. But it's built for load carrying, and with 90-odd kilos of me and another 25 of luggage it is as steady as a rock and handles beautifully.
Obviously, with all that weight I'm not going to break any speed records. Even moderate hills had me moving down through the gears and working quite hard, and though I deliberately took it fairly easy - there's a long way to go - an average speed of 10mph sets new standards of slowness. Having said that, Ontario isn't quite as flat as I had been led to believe. From Lake Ontario to Lake Scugog is rolling countryside with a distinctly upward trend.
Port Perry is a pretty little lakeside town and the Piano Cafe has very decent rooms. Tomorrow to Bobcaygeon another 50 or so miles north. And, remarkably, the forecast is for an even more beautiful day than today. Joy.
Thursday, 28 April 2011
Canada 2011. Getting prepared.
OK, less than a week to go before I leave. Despite the fact that I've had this trip in mind for many months, I feel underprepared. But the bike is sorted, I've worked out what to pack, the flights are booked, the post diverted, there's not much more I can do except wish my French - or Quebecois - was better.
So, here's the plan, such as it is. On Wednesday 4 May I fly to Toronto. After a few convivial days there with Paul and the Gearys, I set off actually cycling on Sunday 8 May. The idea is to be fairly conservative for the first couple of weeks, not much more than 50 miles in any one day, while I get used to things and ride myself into full fitness. At that pace, and taking a fairly circuitous route, it'll take me 12 days to get to Montreal. I'll spend a couple of days there, followed by a four-day ride to Quebec City and another couple of days sightseeing. When I leave QC on 28 May I hope to be in shape to raise the mileages a bit so that I can take in both the
Saguenay National Park and The Gaspe Peninsula before having to turn for home (Toronto, that is). Gaspe to Toronto via New England is a long, long way on a bike, about four weeks. So It's pretty important that by the time I'm leaving Quebec City I'm feeling strong enough to make good time.
If anyone wants to follow me on a map, day one will take me from Toronto to Port Perry on Lake Scugog. Day two will be from Port Perry to Bobcaygeon. From there I aim to go through
The Kawartha Highlands Provincial Park and on to Montreal by a sort of semi-circular route.
That's the idea, anyway. Obviously if I am eaten by a bear or, much more likely, the local insects, things might change. But as often as I can get a network connection I'll post my progress, and maybe a picture or two, as I go along. Should be fun...
So, here's the plan, such as it is. On Wednesday 4 May I fly to Toronto. After a few convivial days there with Paul and the Gearys, I set off actually cycling on Sunday 8 May. The idea is to be fairly conservative for the first couple of weeks, not much more than 50 miles in any one day, while I get used to things and ride myself into full fitness. At that pace, and taking a fairly circuitous route, it'll take me 12 days to get to Montreal. I'll spend a couple of days there, followed by a four-day ride to Quebec City and another couple of days sightseeing. When I leave QC on 28 May I hope to be in shape to raise the mileages a bit so that I can take in both the
Saguenay National Park and The Gaspe Peninsula before having to turn for home (Toronto, that is). Gaspe to Toronto via New England is a long, long way on a bike, about four weeks. So It's pretty important that by the time I'm leaving Quebec City I'm feeling strong enough to make good time.
If anyone wants to follow me on a map, day one will take me from Toronto to Port Perry on Lake Scugog. Day two will be from Port Perry to Bobcaygeon. From there I aim to go through
The Kawartha Highlands Provincial Park and on to Montreal by a sort of semi-circular route.
That's the idea, anyway. Obviously if I am eaten by a bear or, much more likely, the local insects, things might change. But as often as I can get a network connection I'll post my progress, and maybe a picture or two, as I go along. Should be fun...
Monday, 18 April 2011
Canada 2011
On 4 May I leave for Toronto. After a few days there I take off on the bike for a two-month tour through Ontario, Quebec, New Brunswick, Maine, New Hampshire, New York and back to Toronto via Niagara. About 2500 - 3000 miles.
Late last year I bought a new touring bike, a Thorn Nomad, in anticipation of this and other trips. Over the last few weeks I've been getting myself used to it, building up the mileage, making sure it's set up to suit me. It's a heavyweight, but then; so am I. Today I did about 50 miles through Durham. Some nice views of the cathedral.
This is going to be an adventure. Even by my fairly enthusiastic standards, 3000 miles is a long ride. And I shall be alone. I have never done anything of this duration alone before, so that will be an interesting experience in itself.
Late last year I bought a new touring bike, a Thorn Nomad, in anticipation of this and other trips. Over the last few weeks I've been getting myself used to it, building up the mileage, making sure it's set up to suit me. It's a heavyweight, but then; so am I. Today I did about 50 miles through Durham. Some nice views of the cathedral.
This is going to be an adventure. Even by my fairly enthusiastic standards, 3000 miles is a long ride. And I shall be alone. I have never done anything of this duration alone before, so that will be an interesting experience in itself.
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