Newfoundland- 1 Week In a Hurricane (1800km)

Well, what can I say… This is the last blog post of my 3600km, 30 day, solo cycling journey through Eastern Canada. It took place from Aug 16th- September 17th 2013 and I have been busy with school and other hobbies ever since my return. Probably why I am completing the last post now, but better now then never, right?

This is a map of the route I travelled. Definitely more extensive than what I had planned.

The tour was interesting, challenging, emotional, eye opening, and in general a real stepping stone in my life. If you want to see what I mean, just skim through the last 15 or so posts and you’ll get the idea. (I suggest starting from the bottom and working upward. This is the order I wrote them in.)

It really took alot of effort and time to acquire enough funds for the tour as well. My main source of income was obtained through recylcing cans, bottles, and scrap metal. More regularly, I worked 6-7 days a week doing exterior painting while working for a moving company on the weekends. It was rough but in the rare spare time, my friends and I managed to sneak a few beers and laughs in trackside.

I am looking to do more intense endeavors in the future both alone and with others.

If you’ve been following my posts from 8-10 months ago, you would understand that this was a first for me in terms of travel; leaving Montreal, QC on a bicycle with little experience in terms of long distance solo-touring. I’ll tell you now, there were no five-star hotels with breakfeasts included every morning. Accomodations consisted of sleeping on peoples floors and couches, or simply pitching a tarp in city parks, ditchs, bushes, beaches, and in one case, a graveyard. Some bug repellent probably would have helped on a few occasions.

Below: Organizing gear before departure out of Montreal.

I cycled a total of 1800km. Not the 2200km I planned. But, I soon realized that the plan didn’t matter anymore. Especially once it got wet and became unreadable. The most important lesson I learned was that the plan didn’t matter. I just had to make it to Newfoundland. When you set your expectations exceptionally high, it typically leads to disappointment. I learned to appreciate the now while taking in as much value as possible, and going with the flow. I try to incorperate this concept everyday. This was an ongoing experience for me. I found myself in many storms, sometimes forcing me to stay put in certain places like Moncton, North Rustico, PEI and Antigonish, NS. And you know what, those were three of the most memorable moments. Steve, Blaine and Penelope were great to hang around with and their friends were wicked too. The extended time with each gave room for relationship building. Something I only touched on throughout the trip. A big reason why most of the trip was just way too lonely. I’ll remember to leave much more time for relationship building on the next trip. The same could be said for what I will share next, and is the subject of my final post for this tour…

As a hurricane pounded Antigonish, NS I was pondering how I would continue the next week I had available till my flight out of Deer Lake, NL. Cycling was not an option, well it was, but I’m not that crazy. hah.

It was pouring, and it would be pouring on and off all throughout my desired route through Cape Breton Island, NS and Newfoundland.

To make a long story short, I was given the contact of a trucker from New Brunswick who ran fishing supplies from NB to remote fishing villages in Newfoundland. I was told Tommy was a friendly guy and that he’d most likely be able to pick me up off the Trans Canada Highway if the storm got too bad.

Well it was bad, and I bailed on cycling the last 300km of the trip. And plus, by the sound of it, this was an oppurtunity I couldn’t pass up. Screw the schedule! I called him up and he was able to meet me at 1 am in the morning at a truck stop outside of Antigonish. Of course I thought this was sketchy, but I was drunk, and figured I could handle any surprises.

He was 2.5 hours late do to some technical issues with the engine (“this is going to be a smooth ride” I said) I threw my bike in the back and there we went. It didn’t take long for both of us to realize we both liked to talk.

Below: Passing time filming myself, drinking whiskey, and listening to Bob Marley.

Below: Hanging out at gas stations was not uncommon.

We made it to the port at Sydney. We waited over 30 hours in the port gates for one of the storms to pass. Winds were blowing upwards of 100 km/h.

There was a Tim Horton’s. Thank god. It was at this time I blabbered on about my adventure to all the curious truckers from around North America. It was an interesting perspective travelling to Newfoundland via truck. Especially because the majority of truckers were aged 45+, and I stuck out like a sore thumb. Which was not neccasarily a bad thing. It was also funny to see the reactions of the tourists and families traveling over by ferry. I was thankful to be in the shelter of a truck chatting a way with a guy who liked to chat. I think we became friends quite quick. Tommy was an awesomely funny guy with a good heart. I was happy to have a bed to sleep in too ( I got the top bunk).

After 30 hours, we got the clear to drive onto the ferry. From my memory there were about 50+ 53ft trailers allowed on, and we were one of the last to squeeze onto the ferry.

If we hadn’t of made it we would most likely be there for another 6 hours. I really didn’t care, It was warm inside the truck and there was a Tim Horton’s nearby. Once parked and into the passenger section of the ferry, Tommy and his trucker friends made there way to the buffet. I sat  with them but couldn’t join in on the eats due to my lack of funds. They offered to pay but I refused, and was satisfied with their leftovers and infinite refills of coffee.

When we hit the otherside, I had an intense and immediete sense of accomplishment, excitement, happiness, and that hoppy-skippy feeling in the chest. I was so far away from what I call home…

 

What a beautifully interesting landscape this was. It was exotic. This was not a Canada even a Canadian would think about let alone a foreigner. Newfoundland is a must see.

 

I won’t explain the Newfoundand tour km by km or mile by mile but we generally headed north to about Deer Lake, then east toward St John almost the span of the entire island (but on the north side), and then cut straight south through the most vast landscape I’ve ever seen. We dropped off nets and other equipment to a salmon farming company situated in Pool’s Cove. We were there at about 5:30am and for the first time the sun was out. I was half asleep and really didn’t feel like taking photos, but I managed to do so.

Of course nothing goes perfect, and we broke down a good two times.

 

Below: Tommy getting ready to secure the door with 50,000 lb of Salmon inside.

In the 4-5 days I was with Tommy, I slept at the most 12 hours. I didn’t want to miss anything. That, and I had a hard time sleeping with the abundance of Moose on the loose. We stopped only a few times to rest.

I got dropped off in Deer Lake. Tommy now headed for the port.

Slept in the woods that night, and managed to get a ride from another trucker into Gros Morne Park where I was supposed to climb the famous Mountain the next day. This was supposed to be the highlight of the trip. But the weather was too bad. I saw the mountain, though. It was nice.

After getting rained out at Rocky Harbour and having to move to the more secluded Norris Point, I was forced to stay in the first payed motel of the trip (80$). It sucked, but was nice staying dry. I thought for a minute that the weather would break up for a day and I could get to the top of that mountain. The next day I found out there was a hostel for $30/night 5 minutes away. But of course, Pittman, the owner of the hotel wouldn’t let my broke ass know before I paid. There are good and bad people out there and everyone in between. Live and learn… They felt bad once they knew I found out and gave me a complentary breakfast in the morning. I forgave them.

It was time to get out of Gros Morne, and with no visibility there was not much point in staying anyway. Temperatures were also dropping close to 0 Celsius at night. I managed to get a lift from an older fellow named Bob who lived in Alberta his whole life but returned recently. Funny enough, he was headed into Deer Lake to pick up blue berries for his wifes’ dish. We shared stories the whole way and he dropped me off at the truck stop where I would spend the rainy night.

I was able to convice the cashier to let me sleep in the restraunt till it opened at 6am. There was a guy on drugs in the trucker lounge and even after all I’ve seen on the road I was in no mood for anything freaky. But that’s another story in itself.

I managed to link up a ride to the airport the next day. Bob’s Blueberry supplier. The woman was actually the aunt of a girl I hung out with at the truck stop that night. She brought me fresh blueberries and frozen moose meat which I managed to keep frozen on my stop-over flight to Toronto.

I made it back home to Toronto with no issues. 3 days later, I was on a train to Montreal a week late for school. I felt weird to say the least; going from a free for all to a structured/fixed city environment.

So many places seen, so many people met, and so many emotions along the way. Even months later it’s still all very hard to comprehend, and I stopped trying.

Below: Bob and the Blueberry Lady

It was what it was and it has affected me in ways I can’t put into words.

Below: Flying over the greater area of Halifax.

North Rustico, PEI- Charlottetown, PEI (35km)

The storm that came through North Rustico (pictured below) finally blew away, and I got the clear. I’m surprised I didn’t see any windsurfers out there.

Twas’ a hilly ride to Charlottetown. Thank god this checkpoint was only 1/3 of a regular days distance. Scenery was nothing special as I got closer to C-town, but there were some cool towns along the way.

In no time I was within the city limits and cycling along the coastline. I was out of deodorant so I hunted down the Shopper’s Drugmart and made my big expenditure for the day (so I thought). Now smelling fairly decent, I embarked on a small unintentional tour of the city trying to locate my hosts’ location.

The boardwalk was really beautiful. The whole city was just so pleasant and cute… And I never say things are cute. On top of the cuteness, it looked and felt like one of the safest towns/cities I’ve ever been.  I had no problem leaving my bike and trailer unlocked outside the store. Kind on felt like a smaller Ottawa, ON. It’s the whole “clean” thing. Traditional houses painted nicely and in all sorts of colors. Everything was well kept. You could almost eat off the sidewalks.

I noticed quite a large student population, and what looked to be a trouble free group. Everyone was well dressed. The majority gave off a bit of a trendy but classy vibe, maybe even a little snooty. Met some really interesting people on the streets, including one guy walking around with a huge snake.

My deodorant stop caused me to be a bit late for our meet up. I connected with Andrea, who is a very talented singer/songwriter, through http://www.couchsurfing.org days before I arrived in town. We met at the Malpeque Folk Festival where we watched some awesome local talent, many of whom Andrea has played shows with in the past.

Yet again, another awesome host and now a new friend.

She knew that I was a beer fanatic and after having a few east coast beers at the folk festival, I sort of insisted we go to the Gahan House Brewery in town. It is the only craft brewery in the town. In my sole opinion, they had one or two excellent beers but the rest were just, meh, OK. Yes, I tried all 7 of them (2 were samples and a sip of Andrea’s), $40 later…A real nice hangout all in all, and their food looked great. There went a huge chunk of money I made from working with Blaine at the logging yard. I hope Andrea enjoyed her Beer 101 tutorial that night.

We ended up going to some other bar I can’t remember the name of, and then to a  very well known pizza shop: Famous Pepper’s.

The town ate a weeks worth of my food money in a night. Your welcome Charlottetown.

On the walk home there was a cat that would not leave us alone. I felt bad for this little guy. I could not convince Andrea to bring it home.

Slightly hungover, I packed up my trailer over a coffee (thanks Andrea) the next morning and hit the road toward Wood Island, PEI on a full stomach. Wood Island runs a ferry service to New Glasgow, Nova Scotia. Just an hour across the Atlantic Ocean.

Cabot Beach, PEI- North Rustico, PEI (44km)

This was a rough stretch. A very hilly and gusty 44 km along the northern PEI coast. I had no idea PEI was home to so many god damn hills. You think it would be flat. There were no places to eat for almost the whole way, and I was running low on water too.

I eventually came a across a pretty traditional lobster joint; The New London Seafood Restaurant. A tad expensive for my liking but a good experience all in all. Definitely gave me the fuel to carry forward on what was a very windy,hilly, and rainy day.

I stopped in Cavendish on the way to Blaines house in N.Rustico. The beach was awesome and is a must see for any tourist swinging through. The weather cleared up and I wish I could have spent two more sunny days there. I felt like I was in Mexico or something. This beach just killed the many Canadian stereotypes I had of the east coast.

 

Anyways, it was about 2pm, and Blaine called me asking where I was. I planned to be at his place around dinner time. He said he would pick me just down the road. Long story short, Blaine was a real cool guy and is a handy man. He does contracting work including painting, interlocking, and builds houses from scratch (including his own). His side business is in the fire wood market. He orders huge logs to his lot, and then using a bulldozer and chainsaws, manages to cut them up into 16 inch pieces, and delivers quads of them all over the island. He does very well, and needed some big help the few days I was there. A lot of large rush orders to prepare and deliver. With no time to waste, I was working at “the wood” as he called it, for the next two days. Cutting and chucking the wood and everything in between. Labour of this type never felt so good. This had to be one of the coolest “jobs” id ever done. I felt like a champion wielding a gas powered chainsaw for the first time.

Blaine was at the wood most of the time, but otherwise it was Sheldon and I sawing the wood and loading the bulldozer.

I could go on and on about how interesting the two of these guys were. But I won’t. I’ll let the documentary film (in process) speak those words. I met him through http://www.CouchSurfing.org

Blaine treated me, along with one of his girlfriends at a local restaurant; By the Bay. They specialize in steak and fresh seafood. Most people were overweight by a long shot, so you know the customers couldn’t get enough! Sort of had a flashback to Houston, TX

A storm came in after my second day at the wood. Man was I happy not to be cycling. Instead I went out the windy peer, picked up some oysters, and long story short I ended up on Blaines brother’s tuna fishing boat. We went about an hour into the middle of the ocean to bring in his fishing nets so they would not get swept away in the storm. We dropped the lines in because there was a 600lb Bluefin Tuna below us. We didn’t catch him, but we caught a bunch of Mackerel (bait for tuna).. but I ate them when we got home! A couple Cod, a lobster, a sharp weird looking fish, and a couple Mackerel came in on the nets. All food for the birds. It was not a lucky haul in the brothers opinions.

Third day I met Blaines close family. His sister owns a family farm with a cow and chickens.

All in all. These three days were some of the most exciting and interesting of the trip so far. Not hard to believe I wanted to stay for another week or so… But I wasn’t going to make it Newfoundland sitting on my ass. Time to say goodbye.

Albany, PEI- Summerside-RIchmond-Cabot Beach Park, PEI (100km)

So it was rough go leaving my hosts Ben, Kat, and her family in Albany. I was even starting to miss their dog the moment I said goodbye.

The weather was pleasant, clear skies, but a tad windy.

Actually, the wind was the whole reason my plans drastically changed.

My next location was Alberton, PEI. About 100 km straight to the northern tip of the island. It is supposed to be beautiful there and I had a place to stay with a friend of a friends uncle or something like that.. Long story short, the winds picked up big time, i was cycling on relatively flat roads but was surrounded by flat barren farmland after Summerside and the airport near Miscouche. 1. It was boring 2. I was getting fried by the sun and 3. I  couldn’t get going much quicker than 10 km/h.  So after about 15-30 km outside Summerside I decided it was going to be to much of a hassle to get up there. I made the executive descision to turn around, go back the way I came and head to the central northern coast, where I was headed to in two days anyway.

Funny enough that the man who had the house in Alberton told me that day he wouldn’t be there because he was getting married on Sunday. I would have felt weird staying in his house alone, while he got married, and then leaving the next day.

Cabot Beach looked nice and from the pictures I could tell you that the beaches looked very inviting at that point. Really, I was just getting fed up with the cycling  and wanted to get away from the farmland and lay out in the sand. In some more exotic looking areas.

So I did.

I got to the beach, which is part of a provincial park, layed out, swam.

It still felt weird knowing I’d be sleeping on the beach or in some trees. So I waited around till it got dark and managed to get by the front gates without being seen. I found a tight little spot in behind some trees, to keep visibility low, allow me to tie up my tarp tent, and keep me the set up out of the wind.

This was one of the loneliest nights. Just waiting for it to get dark was painful in itself. I was able to get some footage of the area with all the time I had to kill.

Not only was it lonely, but extremely windy, and it rained through the night to top it all off!

Day 6-8: Kamouraska, QC – Cabano, QC (110km)- Unfortunate Event

Day #6 brought a crazy mix of emotions, events, and people.

I was in a bit of a gloomy and even frustrated mood from the time I pulled into my camping spot in Kamouraska on day 5. Not even the surreal sunset that night could offset these feelings. I went to sleep in a mosquito infested graveyard, which was probably the scene of a raping (see previous post). Luckily, when I woke up, the mosquitoes were gone due to the drop in temperature. 18 to 5 degrees Celsius overnight.

Never mind breakfast, I packed up quickly, and was out of there by 8 am. The road eastward was only a few steps away from the graveyard. Riviere du Loup (Wolf River or River of Wolves) was only 35 km away. I knew there was a McDonald’s there where I could charge up my electronics and grab a coffee by 10:30 am.  This stretch was beautiful. The road was smooth. There were vibrant coastal mountains, lush forests, and the first moose sign of the trip. Definitely far away from home…

Riviere du loup popped up out of no where. It was quite large too. It surprised me.

The Mcdonald’s was easy to find. Was able to charge up my electronics within a couple hours.

Unfortunately, I did not take any pictures.

The stretch from Riviere du loup took me along a bike trail. Probably an old railroad bed as there were almost no steep ascents or descents. More moose warning signs were visible along the 70km gravel path to Cabano.

There were small huts along the route with picnic tables and placed beside fast moving streams or small lakes. Getting more and more fatigued, I stopped at almost all of them.

I figured out very quickly that my road tires were absolutely not meant for these soft and deep gravel paths. Every pedal stroke felt like I was losing more and more energy, not to mention the complete loss of traction. The Trans Canada highway was really not an option at this point. No shoulders, and Illegal on this stretch I think.

That being said, I felt like a slug truckin’ though the rain forest. I anticipated camping in these deep woods a few times, but the rain that started to fall around 4pm changed my mind. I needed to get into town even if it took me until dark.

About 15km outside of Cabano, QC, I stopped for my last water break underneath a bridge. There was some nice artwork from some Montreal kids so I took out my phone to take the shot below. The tiny green light was flashing indicating a message. I listened to the message left from this unknown sender and to my surprise, it was the police. Something about my wallet. They  wanted to know if I would be coming to pick it up.  In disbelief, I rummaged through the trailer positive that this was some sick joke by a friend.

It wasn’t in it’s designated pouch. I felt absolutely stupid. So pissed off in the moment, I was ready to call the whole thing off. Which would have been even stupider. In my crappy mood, I felt it hard to believe someone was decent enough to return the wallet.

This was no joke. At the time I was sort of in shock. Many ideas came to mind.  Of course, the first thing was to call the police back. (How the hell did they get my number anyway?) All of my id’s were from Ontario, not Quebec where I live now. The officer specifically stated I needed to come pick it up personally. They made me describe what was in it all the way down to the # of pennies in the zipper pouch.

1. Do I go back to Riviere du Loup now to get it?

2. Should I take a bus from the next town and leave my bike here? Then take a bus back and continue the trip?

3. Should I try to hitchhike back and get it?

4. Could an officer bring it out somehow?

5. Should I go into town and talk to people for help?

I told the officers my situation, nothing was going to happen today. I was not going to peddle a foot more than 15km to the next town. #5 it was.

I continued toward town. Now pretty hungry, but with no money.

Feeling pretty hopeless, i was asking random people for advice. People who really didn’t speak English. It was quite useless.

Maybe someone had a friend that was coming out to Cabano anyways? They could pick it up for me and bring it out here. That idea failed. I soon found out there were no busses running into or out of Cabano, so that option was out the window. The cops would not ship it out anywhere either. I felt shit out of luck. Until I met one french/italian fellow who owned a bakery. His assistant was a young student on summer holiday. She spoke english and was able to translate my issue to her boss. He understood what was going on and gave me a muffin and a number that may help out. He knew of some small local delivery company that came here almost everyday. They were not open till 9am the next day though. He was closing shop too. The sun started to sink lower.

Not to long after, I stumbled upon a little park bordering a nice lake with some tree cover too. This was my home for the night. With no identification, the police wouldn’t be able to write me a ticket anyways.

Man, I felt like a loser. I had some whiskey left from the previous night and it sure came in handy. These ducks hung out with me all night.

I woke up at 7 with a couple hours to kill before I could make the call. I sat on the park bench-looking lost-until a rough looking guy named Bernard approached me with interest.

He noticed I was travelling through and obviously assumed something was up. He shouted something in french, probably along the lines of “What’s wrong?!”… Confused, and still unsure if this delivery thing was going to work, I replied “I’ve got an issue here!”. I explained everything very clearly to him in English-which he understood very well. A long story short, the bilingual, experienced, angel-Bernard stuck with me for the next couple hours back at the bakery.

Even though the owner of the bakery was quite helpful, he maybe knew 5 words in English. It was crucial that he gave me the number. Bernard was able to conjugate with the owner and devised a plan to get this wallet here. He first called the shipping company about the special “pickup and delivery”. It was hard to convince them, as this was against their policy but eventually agreed after some persuasion  Now he needed to work it out with the police station. He argued in a loud and confident voice with the french police officer. Of course, the officer that day was not passed on the information about the wallet, and this seemed crazy to him/her. In the end it was agreed on all ends that the wallet would be picked up in the afternoon at the police station and brought out to my remote location -65km+ away -by about 3pm.

The owner of the bakery kept watch over my gear in front of his shop for the whole day.He fed me sandwiches, croissants, muffins, and coffee and allowed me to boil the two pieces of corn in his shop.

I was in a revolutionary shock. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.

I will never be able to comprehend, nor put in words,  the amount of gratitude and thankfulness I felt this day.

When the wallet arrived I was able to pay the mere $7.00 for shipping, and pay the owner back for all the food.

I cleaned off after 3 days in the lake. And decided to stay another night in the famous city park.

This was my view in the morning (taken with cell phone)

Day 4: Quebec City, QC- Montmagny, QC (63km)

I literally got so comfortable in Quebec City that I wanted to stay there for another 3 days or so. But with my limited time and the checkpoints and goals I had set for myself,  I had to be going. Plus, there was no time for my legs to get soft again!

I was ready to continue my journey eastward. I woke up on Sunday morning around 9am, and according to my “schedule”, thought I’d be taking the bridge south and doing an 80km day along the south shore of the St.Lawrence River. This was fine, but when I woke up pretty darn hung over from the beer fest the night before, I knew I was in for a rough day considering the hills everyone was talking about. But I knew I had to be on my way.

For some reason I decided to check my route when I woke up. Google Maps showed that there was a ferry terminal not even 20 minutes away and that it would take me to the south side of the river. Thank f*****g god. This made the day a lot more enjoyable. This ferry, which cost me $3, saved me a 30 km back-track. It allowed me to stay and have breakfast with scott, grab some whiskey and corn at the market (not knowing where I’d be posting up for the night), and provided an awesome view while crossing the river. I was ecstatic. And suddenly not hungover.

By the time I got to the other side it was around 3pm (breakfast went a bit late!). I followed a paved and busy bike path for about 6-10km after the ferry terminal. Everyone on their expensive carbon frames kept the pace moving fluidly though. It seemed like a lot of these cyclists take their bikes over on this ferry just for a change in scenery. The bike path turned south after 10km and so did I, accidently.

The vibe didn’t feel right, and I never saw the river for 20 minutes. I turned back to where I came from and asked for directions. I knew it. Wrong way. So I guess I could add 12-13km onto this day. I’ve made worse detours on small trips prior to this one and I was not to upset.

Once I got onto the road, the hills started to appear. Again, the scenery kept me going. It distracted me from how much my legs and ass hurt. The mountains which started to appear on the north side of the river, were spectacular. They were as smooth as silk against the blue sky. They all kind of blended into each other.

I did not stop much on the way out. Maybe 2 or 3 times for water (don’t have a spot for one on my frame). This was my most efficient day yet (22km/hour). QC-Montmagny was the nicest part of the trip so far. It literally was getting nicer and nicer as I ventured east. The smell of salt and “freshness” in the wind was becoming more apparent as I traveled toward the ocean. The rivers’ salt to fresh water ratio was increasing.

I had been following this river for about 340km from Montreal. I felt much further away because of that salty smell though. Smelt like somewhere foreign. This is probably because I grew up in Toronto and go to school in Montreal, and am used to breathing in smog and pollution.

No turning back now.

When I got into town, I noticed it was very well kept and clean. I pulled into a boardwalk and watched father and his son fish as the sun sank toward the horizon.

I could see a few places that looked alright for the night but everything looked very rocky, indeed 2/3 spots were. There was one other place I needed to check out closely, I’t looked like there was some tree cover too.

It was a park, and whatta’ you know there were campers. Everywhere. There was also circus looking tent 150ft away. There were families all over the place, and one older lady camping out of her car. Her and I were the only ones travelling alone.

Before setting up anything I sat down and observed the area. Lots of families. I had no clue if I was allowed here -let alone if there was a fee $.

There was a fence behind the trees where all of the RV’s were. I talked to the older lady who shared a bottle of wine and a chicken with me. She wouldn’t take any of my whiskey though. She seemed lonely and was travelling from Montreal to Nova Scotia for no apparent reason but travel.  She mentioned she paid something like $35 at the front gate and that there was some show going on in the tent.

I didn’t see any gates, and I didn’t have the dogs after me, so I set up my gear when the woman went to sleep.

Not surprisingly, everyone in their campers looked at me weird as I hooked up the blue tarp to my bike and pegged the other ends of it in the ground. They probably thought I was mentally ill.

The grass was soft and there were no roots, rocks, or rain in sight. The wind of the water kept the Mosquitoes away and wasn’t strong enough to blow my tarp out of the ground. Success.

Spiders everywhere. Fortunately, none made it into my sleeping bag.

The first pedal strokes of a 30 day journey(Aug 14th-Sep 16th)

The last 4 weeks on the road have been filled with a diverse range of emotions, people, and events. On August 14th, 2012 I departed the disintegrating streets and overpasses of Montreal,QC and headed east a long the St.Lawrence river on a tight budget and not much more than a bike, trailer, tarp and a fairly confident mindset. I had been pushing my body to it’s limits for 25 + days and all though I had the desire to move forward, my body was hinting otherwise after just 5 days. But this soon changed.

*September 5th

It is very wet outside today in Antigonish, NS. I am sitting in a brand new library watching the streets fill with water as the light dims.

In my 21 days of travel I can honestly say that this is the only spare time I’ve had to dedicate my efforts towards my page.

I am a little bit dissapointed that I have not been able to provide a more live-day-to-day type insight into the trip. So to make the most out of today, I am going to write about the first 2 days, and continuously do a post about every 2-3 days of the trip from now on. Past tense is ok too!

To gain some perspective I have travelled a total distance of 1734km by bicycle less 170 km (long story will be explained in later posts)

Montreal, QC -Woodstock, NB- 824km

Woodstock, NB-Antigonish, NS- 910km

Day 1: Montreal-Berthierville (75 km)- August 14th, 2012

I left a cloudy and dreary Montreal early in the afternoon after doing some last minute preparations on the way out the door. Not feeling super energetic and a bit sick, I started to feel some insecurity and uneasiness just 2 km into the first day.My trailer flipped over after hitting a huge pot hole just before I left the island which permanently screwed up the position of my fishing  rod on the trailer. It continued to ever-so-slightly brush against my rear tire on certain turns.  It only took 25km to figure out the proper positioning for it. I now had a ripped trailer with some not-so-true wheels! Both of which have not been fixed to this date. What was I getting into here?

As i hit the road and my mind started to clear while the elements started to behave in my favour. Especially the wind. After all, I was heading east. It gave me the positive boost I needed to get my spirits up and get rolling.

 

I was leaving such a systematic work schedule, a lot of stress, my friends, the hustle and bustle of the city, and of course the certainty of waking up everyday in the same bed. As much as I wanted to do this trek for the past 8 months, it felt weird leaving the cage.

This scene above was fairly nice to take a break near. There wasn’t much after this but boring farmlands and some very flat/straight roads until I reached Berthierville, QC- A small farm town along the St.Lawrence or maybe some of it’s tributaries. With no planned place to stay that night, I had to start scanning the area for possible sleeping grounds ( I was new to this, nowhere near experienced.) There was an abandoned factory type building that looked ok. It was almost certain I’d come back here after going for a couple beers. The local bar, called “le bar” i think, was filled with working class Quebecois men. At first they seemed a bit uneasy with me probably being a new face and not speaking the native tongue. But it only took a few beers before we were conversing in ‘fringlish’ about the major activities in the city..corn, grain and beer.

          

I even got offered a place to stay, but it was way out of my way and it looked like a storm was coming through. After a couple cold ones, I headed back toward the factory. On the way I spotted a house and lot under construction. Perfect for a one night stay. The river that ran through the yard provided a nicer view than the crumbling factory walls anyway.

As the rain trickled on and off, I set up camp, shot some footage, and enjoyed the blue herons and jumping fish. When the sun set, hell rose on up out of the shadows…. Mosquitos. They have to be one of the most aggravating bugs on the planet. They buzzed around my ears all night, snuck into the tiny air holes in my bivvy and bit the shit out of my face. The humiditity was almost as annoying as them. I dont even know if I got any sleep. A construction worker came around 6am and booted me out. I expected worse, and to be honest Im glad I was forced  out of my sticky bivvy and into the cold/wet air.  It could of been worse, but not the best way to start a 31 day cycling tour. Oh, and it was raining all night and morning. Fun.

 

Day 2: Berthierville-Trois Rivieres (75km)

I rose out of the Mosquito infested riverside lot, moist, tired, and sore. I was starting to have second thoughts about how I were to last another 15-20 days in the bush. Luckily I had a host to stay with in TR and could think about this later. I headed out of town after grabbing some breakfeast and lots of coffee at the grocery stores’ cafe. There was no tim hortons near by. The scenery really didnt change much from the previous day. The rain died off but the humidity stayed. I stopped in Yamachiche to check out a small layup of trains. They were loading grain into the hoppers. It was cool to see, and took my mind of the bugs and humidity. I got into TR not long after and it started to pour rain again. I checked out the boats at the port and had a beer at the only bar that would let me bring my trailer inside.

I met up with my host near the University after he finished work at 5pm. His house was of course situated at the very top of a steep hill.

My host for the night Muddashir- from Mauritius was awesome. I got in contact with him through an international organization called couchsurfing.org. If you have not heard of this site/community you will be impressed.

Muddashir got a job as an industrial veternarian and lives with a 3 other roomates who also host travellers from around the world. I was his 50th “couch surfer”. He cooked a fantastic pasta for dinner and we had some great conversations. He even let me sleep in his bed (after I refused 100 times). He felt bad he booked two surfers in a night, with no place for them all to sleep. Super generous. Thanks :). Little did i know, he had another host coming from Germany that same night. Andreas arrived at the house hours after I did with a bicycle. He had just cycled from Montreal (like me), and was headed to Quebec city the next day (like me). Talk about a coincidence. So i had a partner to ride with the next morning. A much needed partner I should say. It was good to have his company and motivation on a hilly 145km into Quebec City. He kept the pace going, mostly leading with a cool carbon frame bicycle and a good attitude.

 

Excitement is high as the trailer fills up

As I count my last nickels, pack my trailer, and gather my last batch of aluminum cans, I am starting to realize the grand scale of this adventure. It is the same feeling as if you were waiting to write a big test that you studied for, but are having second thoughts just as you enter the room. I have never done anything like this before, but I know it is what I need. Maybe I will gain a bit of sanity, maybe I’ll lose even more. hah.

My trailer is all filled up with film gear, camping gear, food for a couple days, and cycling related items. It weighs about 40-60lb. I don’t have a scale so I don’t know for sure. I know I will be lugging this thing off my back wheel for about 2200km over 25 days.

Half of my friends probably don’t know where i’m headed in the next couple days. Probably won’t make too much difference anyway. I have not seen many of them this summer due to a tight work schedule and extreme fatigue on the weekends. See you all in Mid September.

Some of my friends have asked me what the purpose of this whole ordeal is, and I can never give them a simple answer. There are many reasons.

#1 being a retreat. Escape from the highly stressed, sheeplike zombies of the city, and all the flashy cars, suits, and makeup that comes out at night on St.Laurent. I am outta here, at least for a good while, to clear my mind, and figure out where I want to go after I finish business school.

Let’s call it a getaway.

I want to meet interesting people, see a pow wow, catch some trout, eat some good food and drink lots of good craft beer. These are the activities that keep me smilin!

I will try to post a couple times a week or do programmed posts so that you can follow the adventure day by day. Hopefully filled with small video clips and lots of pictures.

A 4 day retreat to Northern Ontario

I’ve taken some awesome footage too (pre-trip-Documentary). Which I will share with you all in september when I make a teaser for the film.

 

Hope your enjoying these pics. I am learning everyday.

 

Cheers,

Deer Lake, NL – Toronto, ON

I’ve ranted quite a bit about the big bike tour I am going on (and currently saving up for) in late August (Montreal, QC- Deer Lake, NL) a total of about 2000km over 26 days.

Although I knew I had no choice but to fly back from Newfoundland, I would never have predicted booking the flight last night…

Damn, so this is it… 5:45 am on September 14th. It is final, got to make it out there now, eh?

To me it seemed a bit early, but it sort of made sense to have booked it already. I had points (AirMiles) from previous travels and need to be back to school for Sep 16th at the latest ( I will have missed 9 days of school by then.. oops). In other words, I needed this flight back, and Air Canada does not fly from this remote location everyday you know. Was not going to take the chance of the flight being full..

It was going to cost me upwards of $400 to fly back, and all I coughed up last night was some hefty taxes totalling $80.

I actually planned on buying the ticket halfway through the trip. What was I thinking…?

To get an idea of where im headed, take a look at this:

The reason I am not flying back to MTL is because the flights automatically went to Toronto anyways (Deer Lake-Toronto-Montreal). I would be backtracking, and it made sense to visit with family in Ontario for a couple days before I went back to my fourth year of university in Montreal. Will take a 5 hour bus back to Montreal on the Sunday. Whew.

At least one things’ outta the way… just 999 other things to prepare for now..

Cheers!