After the big push of yesterday, I woke up as tired as when I went to bed. I was sore – sore legs, sore but, sore back and generally un-motivated to ride. The show must go on. I thought after a few k’s I’d get back into the groove – but it never really happened.
There were a few hills and a bit of a headwind – both diminished my motivation even more. I decided to listen to my body and call it an active rest day. I ended up riding as far as Marathon for day total of 100km. odd how riding 100km’s is a rest day…
Recap: Distance - 100km Location – Marathon, Ontario Accommodation – hotel Beard status – getting softer Song of the day – Naveed – Our Lady Peace Photo of the day – Yellow Brick Road & The Bear
I woke a couple times through the night – rain spitting on my tarp. It was cold too; it didn’t feel like the middle of summer, closer to autumn. Mosquitoes plagued me too, biting my neck and face. By the time it was light I was itching to get outta there and hit the road.
You never really know what days on an adventure like this will stand out and be remembered in specifics. This day was one of those days. The road hug close to Lake Superior – dense fog blanketed the landscape. The road undulated like a rollercoaster – grinding up hills that slowed my pace to unspeakably slow. Then crest the summit and fly down the other side at 65kph. Repeat over and over again.
Eventually the fog lifted and the scenery revealed itself. It was so worth the wait. A hundred years ago the Group of Seven (seven Canadian painters who traveled into the wilderness to capture Canada) spent four years here exploring and painting – I can see why.
After 140km I was still feeling good and decided to go for a bit more. The next place to stay for the night was another 40km away. The last 20km were pretty tough – plenty of hills and accumulated lactic acid from the day.
Arriving in White River I was exhausted and so ready to be done for the day. White River has a strange distinction – it’s the home of Winnie the Poo, well sort of. In 1915 a Canadian soldier stepped off the train for 6hrs in White River. While there he met a trapper who gave him an orphaned bear cub. By orphaned I mean that his mother killed by the trapper and made into a nice rug. The soldier takes the bear with him all the way to England, making it the regimental mascot and named it Winnie after Winnipeg where he was from. Eventually he has to leave England and go fight in France – he gives the bear to the London Zoo where a few years later AA Milne sees it and decides to write a story about it for his son Christopher. So a guy stops in a town for 6hrs, steals a bear, gives it to a zoo, a writer writes a story about it and the town where it all began forever associates itself with a story that in reality has nothing to do with it.
Recap: Distance - 184km Location – White River Accommodation – hotel Meal of the day – Poutine Beard status – looks almost on purpose Song of the day – Times Like These (acoustic) – Foo Fighters (it was playing just as a bear and her cub walked across the highway right in front of me) Photo of the day – The Fog II
Today was tough. Though the mileage isn’t super high, the terrain to gain those miles was easily the toughest of this trip so far.
Last night before I turned in for the night I ended up having a chat on the phone with my good friend Graeme. He’s a friend that I made while I was on the Tour d’Afrique earlier this year. An Englishman by birth who now calls Australia home – Graeme is on a dream enchainment of cycle tours. Prior to riding the length of Africa, he rode from Paris to Beijing. At the moment he’s riding coast to coast in Canada before riding across Australia next year and doing a loop of South America shortly after. Suffice to say he’s riding his bike around the world in the span of about two years. The guy’s a legend.
Anyway, I was chatting to Graeme on the phone last night because he is currently about 600km to the west of me and heading my way. We’ve managed to sort out where we are going to pass each other along the way and have conspired to stop for the night in the same town of Thunder Bay – how random is that!
The net result of this planning is a sudden (well it never was far from my thoughts) impetus to get the lead out and start making tracks. With my knee almost back to normal I have the overwhelming desire to have some monster days in the saddle.
This morning I woke amped and ready to go. I flew out of Sault Ste Marie and was soon skirting the edge of Lake Superior. The terrain has changed. Where southern Ontario is rolling farmland, this is the Canadian Shield. Rocks, trees and hills, lots and lots of hills. At first the hills were short and easily surmounted but as I continued along the lake I encountered some gynormous mountains to summit. I’m not overstating this; they were monsters that took 30minutes to climb in my granny gear maxing out at about 8kph.
There was a thick mist in the air all day. So thick that I turned on my blinking tail light for much of the ride – so that the plentiful weekend traffic could be well warned of my presence. On the inevitable downhill’s the fog was so cold that I almost wished to go up again to warm up – almost.
After 134km I arrived at Lake Superior Provincial Park. I was hoping to push it out to about 150km today – but my next option for a campsite was at the 195km mark. Too far, damn. So I camped here, right beside the lake in a fog filled family oriented campground. All around me are tent trailers, motor homes and tents large enough to park an SUV in. there beside all the big rigs is my little tarp – I feel like a refuge or something.
Tomorrow I’ll try and ride about 150km to help me get to Thunder Bay a little earlier in the day on Thursday. Amazing the knock-on effect of this sort of travel. Do 10km extra per day for a week and you are nearly a day ahead of schedule. Well time to crawl under my tarp and get some sleep – I’m sure it won’t take me long tonight.
Recap: Distance - 143km Location – 20km north of Montreal River in Lake Superior Provincial Park Accommodation – camping Meal of the day – cold can of tuna for dinner Beard status – I look like a hobo that broke into a bike shop Song of the day – Alive – Pearl Jam Photo of the day – The Fog
The ride from Iron Bridge was pretty straight forward. Happily my knee is definitely on the mend and I was able to really push it today. Yesterday I ran into a cyclist going across Canada in the other direction. It’s cool, every day I see fellow riders heading the other way – though I’m yet to pass of be passed by anyone heading west. Anyway I was chatting to this fellow and he suggested a place to stay in Sault Ste Marie. I assumed that I’d go beyond Sault and camp a bit further down the road.
The suggested place was in the back yard of a bike shop owner who welcomes cross country cyclists with open arms – not charging a dime to set up camp on his lawn. By the time I got to Sault I was ready for a break and a bite to eat. I was planning on riding for another 50km or so beyond town.
As I was sitting having a fish burger I heard the first bit of thunder. Not impressed I craned my neck to the sky just in time to see the first volley of thick rain start to fall. In seconds it was pouring. The sky was black as night and it showed no sign of letting up. All of a sudden a stop here was looking more and more attractive.
Beside the burger joint was a cheap hotel and a block over was the bike shop. For a moment I ummed and awed about what to do – then another crack of thunder struck and the rain ratcheted up another notch. Free is cool – getting soaked just for free accommodation is a bit much, even for me.
The hotel was perfect – there’s nothing better then sleeping inside when it’s absolutely pouring rain all night.
Recap: Distance - 120km Location – Sault Ste Marie, Ontario Accommodation – hotel Meal of the day – fish burger with thunder on the side Beard status – I look like Swayze in Point Break Song of the day – Take Back the City – Snow Patrol Photo of the day – the moose
The weather forecast was diabolical – rain, wind, hail and even the outside risk of tornados. Not inspiring for bike riding, that’s for sure. I threw the curtains back in the hotel expecting the worst – but the reality was actually alright. Though cloudy the wind was light and there wasn’t any sign of hail let alone twisters.
Thankfully my knee is also on the mend. It took a full 80km for it to start getting sore – twice as long as yesterday and three times as far as the day previous. It’s not 100% by any means but on the mend for sure.
I managed to grind out 130km by the end of the day, ending up in the micro town of Iron Bridge, Ontario. I’ve settled into another cheap hotel for the night – it’s great for $50 you get a big room, A/C (not that I need it) and free wifi. You’d almost think that Canada is a cheap place to travel.
Tomorrow the forecast is much the same – pure shit. But based on the fact that it didn’t rain a drop today and the sun was out for much of the afternoon, who knows.
Recap: Distance - 130km Location – Iron Bridge, Ontario Accommodation – hotel Meal of the day – fresh whitefish Beard status – itchy to the power of 10 Song of the day – Pigeon Camera – The Tragically Hip Photo of the day – The Blair Witch House
I was full of trepidation when I woke up this morning – the big question, how was the knee going to survive? I had ibuprofen for breakfast and managed to scrounge a tensor bandage. From the get-go I decided to make it an active rest day, a short day to keep my knee on the read to recovery. 50km was the plan – to the town of Espanola. The riding was beautiful – I’ve transitioned into the Canadian Shield – hilly, rocky terrain, filled with overgrown bush and brimming with wildlife. The weather was shit. It was half raining and gusty headwinds – it was going to happen eventually, why not now.
Every turn of the pedals was filled with grim expectation. I was waiting for the pain to erupt and thankfully it never really eventuated. Sure it hurt like hell, but not like yesterday, not even close.
50km fell in just over two hours – the town of Espanola is a bit of a hole to be honest. Gone are the charming lakeside towns – this is a Northern Ontario pulp mill town. The rotten fart smell of the mill lingers through the scruffy streets. It feels like the whole community is on life support, just waiting for the powers that be to pull the plug. There is a heavy heart here. There’s no joy in the faces of the local’s just an underlying sense of impending doom.
I’ve spent the afternoon relaxing and recovering – the knee feels alright and I’m looking forward to getting back to work tomorrow. Oh and one more thing – long time readers of this blog will be familiar with my traditional meal that I have at some point in every country I visit. Well today was the day to visit The Coronal and it was awesome…
Recap: Distance - 50km Location - Espanola Accommodation – hotel Meal of the day – 3 piece original recipe with fries Beard status – looks on purpose now Song of the day – no music today, it was raining Photo of the day – Vitamin I
Taking the ferry to Manatoulin Island was a great way to start the day. It left at about 11am and the two hour journey wasn’t ideal for making much of a dent in the km grand total. I wasn’t worried – it was a beautiful day and a nice journey. It was amusing, if only to myself that the last time I was on a ferry with my bike was traveling from Egypt to Sudan earlier this year. Bit different this time.
It was almost 2pm by the time I started to ride. The plan was to head to the town of Espanola about 110km down the road. After about 20km something wasn’t right. from seemingly out of nowhere this deep and severe pain invaded my left knee. At first I thought I was just stiff, but stretching did nothing and the pain only grew in severity and intensity. Every pedal stroke was agony. My heart sunk. There was no way I had 110km in me. Plan B was needed.
After 60km I rolled into Little Current and I was done. My knee felt like it might explode – the pain was severe enough that it left me feeling sick to my stomach. After I got settled into a hotel, I looked into the future of physiotherapy. Thanks to highspeed internet and Skype I had a chat to Louise Parker, my regular physio back in Queenstown. With a good description of what I was feeling plus some diagnostic tests relayed over the web – she diagnosed me with having irritated the bursa on my knee. It all stems from an injury I sustained in a fall in an adventure race about six weeks ago (click HERE for that story).
So what’s the result? Is the trip over? Is it time to give up and call it a day? Not a chance. Lou figures that with a couple of light days, it’ll come right. I’ve come too far and this adventure is too important to me to throw in the towel at the first challenge. Remember this is supposed to be hard – that’s the whole point.
Recap: Distance – 62km Location – Little Current Accommodation – hotel Beard status – slightly beyond five o’clock shadow Song of the day – Nothing as it seems – Pearl Jam Photo of the day – The Open Road
Last night was pretty grim. The rain stopped before I went to bed, but my tarp/tent was pretty cramped. It’s a new system for me, so I’m still figuring the best way to pitch it. It was too low and I had no room to move. There was this light in the campground that I assumed would get turned off at some point – yeah right. It was spotlight city all night long. I woke up several times through the night – I was cold. Fuck, this is supposed to be the warm part of the ride. That’s the second bike tour in a row that I’ve been cold at night.
I was so happy for dawn, just to be able to get up and get going to warm up. By 9am I was on the road. It felt pretty good from the start, no ill effects from day one. Another nice day, warm and sunny with no wind. It was the sort of day to make tracks – and tracks I made. I was feeling good and decided to push the boat out. The wind turned and became a light tail wind – it was all the push I needed. I got after in and by the end of the day logged 172km. it was a HUGE day in the saddle. 312km in two days – big numbers to start things off.
I’m in a little town called Tobermory – it’s at the very end of the Bruce Peninsula. It’s a charming little place with boats in the harbor and a maze of jetties all about. Tomorrow I’m taking a ferry across the Georgian Bay to Manitoulin Island – a bridge connects the island to the mainland, on the north. So this will be my sole boat trip on my whole tour. Time for bed – it’s been a long day.
Recap: Distance - 172km Location - Tobermory Accommodation – hotel Beard status – patchy with sunscreen impregnation – I call it the young Santa look Song of the day – Beautiful Machine - Shihad Photo of the day – the big chair
By the time I actually got on my bike I would have walked on glass to start this ride. I’ve been planning and prepping this ride for months so to actually be under weigh way fantastic! Staying with Aunt Betty-Ann and Uncle Peter was great; they showed me some fantastic hospitality and really helped with my prep work – Thanks guys!
At about 9.30 this morning I loaded up my bike, said a quick goodbye and without too much fanfare I was off. Leaving Burlington I stayed along Lake Ontario for a while, before turning inland and starting the journey west. The first challenge was the Niagara Escarpment – a series of rolling hills that for the topography of the area. It felt good to stress my muscles; it had been so long I had started to wonder if the early signs of atrophy were on their way. The weather was warm and the winds were light – perfect riding conditions. The km’s added up quickly and I was already near 100 when I stopped for lunch. I can tell already that I’m going to get pretty bloody sick of subway sandwiches before the end of this. The afternoon was much the same – roiling hills and nice weather.
After 120km I thought it was about time to start to look for a place to stay. A quick enquiry told me that a few km down the road was a nice campground. By the time I got there I had clocked 143km for the first day. I’m stoked, that’s a pretty big number off the bat. I feel pretty good too, not all that sore (yet). Timing was impeccable, no sooner had I set up my little tent-tarp the havens opened up. It was epic rain, Noah sort of rain. Much to my relief and surprise my gear stayed dry during the 30min downpour – phew.
It was a great day and a fine start to this caper – let’s hope the good fortune continues!
Recap: Distance - 143km Location – 10km north of Mount Forest Accommodation – tent Beard status – wispy bum-fluff Sign of the day – “The Hockey Sushi Restaurant” Song of the day – Wake Up – Arcade Fire Photo of the day – yellow fields, grey skies.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that question lately. People at the airport as I shlep my boxed bike around, family here in Toronto where I’m getting ready to head out on the ride, random folks, nearly everybody is curious as to what I’m doing and I haven’t even done anything yet! So why am I here in Toronto? Where am I going? How long will it take me? And exactly why am I doing this?
So I’m in Toronto because in 2007 I rode my bike from New York City to Windsor Ontario. It was supposed to be a one time thing - a lark into the world of bike touring. Didn’t quite work out that way – after that trip I was hooked. So what was always supposed to be an isolated idea became the seed for another adventure and inevitably spawned the feeling of unfinished business. Fastforward to right now and I’m getting all set to finish this all up once and for all. Instead of starting from where I left off I’ve decided to backtrack a little bit and start in Toronto (or just south of it to be exact in the town of Burlington). Why there? I have family in the Toronto area and through a few other points in Ontario and this seemed like a fine way to catch up with some folks along the way. Word to the wise, never pass up the offer of a home cooked meal, a warm bed and a ride from the airport.
So the plan is to head west, roughly along the path that I’ve scribed onto this map. As you can see I’ve colour coded the lines – you can see what I did a couple of years ago, you can see what I’m planning to do this time and also a green line far to the west of possible ideas. The reason for this is time. I hope to have the time to ride all the way to Vancouver on this ride, but it may turn out that I don’t have time to do that portion of the ride this time. It’s not a huge deal to me, I’ll just come back and finish it up next summer, with my wife Sophie who’s dead keen to ride the Rockies with me – funny she wasn’t superstoked about Saskatchewan…
So that’s the plan, that’s what’s up – all I need to do is get on my bike in about 12hrs and turn dreams into reality! The mere thought of riding 3200km to my parent’s house in Calgary is both terrifying and incredibly exciting all at the same time. Scary and exciting – two vital ingredients for a great adventure! Chat to you soon from the road.
I was watching The Tour today as I’m re-assembling my bike and getting ready to hit the road tomorrow. By The Tour, I of course mean The Tour d’France. Lance Armstrong put in a pretty big effort in the mountains to sneak into second place over all, giving hope to all of us post thrity’s that there is still athletic prowess achievable.
When I was in San Francisco a few days ago my good buddy Sharif let me in on a very cool SF-Subculture that just blew my mind. Fixed Gear biking. When I say fixed gear what I mean is riding a track bike through the city streets. A track bike has no gears, no freewheel (meaning the pedals turn the whole time, you can’t coast) and more importantly NO BRAKES! It’s utter madness and insane fun! So how do you stop? You just stop pedaling and stand strong on the pedals – this throws the bike into a skid and you slow down. If you think about it, a skateboard doesn’t have brakes either. You really have to see it to understand what it’s all about. Have a look at this clip of the SF Fixe crew hanging out in Austin, Texas with Lance Armstrong and ripping up the city streets. Lance is the guy in the white t-shirt who arrives about half way through. Watch him drop everybody at the 3:20 mark and fly down that hill – remember, NO BRAKES! Right - back to packing!
if you can't see th clip, click HERE to go straight to the source
Made it safe and sound 12,000km from home. Bike survived the trip (I think, haven’t cracked the box yet) and so did I. in that perpetual state of jet-lag where I’m constantly craving a lie-down and lunch. Whatever time of day it is here or back home, it always feels like lunch time…. Time for bed, after a sandwich…
Btw – check out the, “Where in the World is Scott” gadget to the right of the blog page (those reading in a reader or via email will need to go to the actual site). You can see via google map where I am during my ride. I’ll be updating that (hopefully with a route marked) as I go…
There was a nice little shaker last night after dinner – earthquake that is. They’re saying it was a 7.6 which is pretty huge – BUT the epicenter was in the middle of nowhere, about 150km from Queenstown so it didn’t do any damage or cause any injuries. I do have an interesting story to tell about it though. Last night Sophie and I went out for dinner as I’m headed overseas today. We’d just finished an amazing Thai feast and were walking back to the car to head home. We were walking along the street we were beside a big wooded park area near the center of Queenstown. As I approached our car I heard the strangest sound – in a tree I could hear either a cat or a possum absolutely freaking out, hissing, running all over the place and making all sorts of noise. I thought to myself that it was odd – not what you usually hear. Just as I was about to say something to Soph, everything started to get weird. At first I thought that maybe my two glasses of shiraz had gone to me head. I felt dizzy and unsettled. I put my hand on the car to steady myself; I thought I was ill or something. Then I realized that the car was shaking. Soph and I looked at each other and said in unison, “do you feel that?” the shaking wasn’t violent or abrupt, it was like you were floating in the sea and the waves were moving you around. It felt like jumping up and down in slow motion. And what’s more it was totally silent. You expect earthquakes to be loud and chaotic – there was no sound, no breaking glass, no fire alarms or sirens. We stood there for about 30seconds as the earth shook. It was only after that I realized that the animals in the tree had predicted the quake… spooky!
Well I’m supposed to be flying out of Queenstown this afternoon to Auckland to catch my flight to San Francisco tonight. Fingers crossed I can get out of here – nothing to do with the earthquake – just fog, lots and lots of fog…
Not today, but this looks like today
Next blog from a new time zone or here tonight trying to figure out plan B.
Not everyone can pedal at 80km/hr, but with this bike you can! I’m sure it’ll never actually get to production availability (especially at a $40,000 price point), but none the less it’s pretty cool. Worth watching just for the crazy German Doc Brown who invented it.
If you can’t see the video click HERE to go straight to the source.
I’ve been pretty tight lip about what my next adventure is – by that I mean what I’m up to after my Canadian bike ride. Well here it is – Burning Man. Burning Man is a HUGE art festival in the Nevada desert. 40,000 people will move into the baron landscape and after a week there will be no trace – in between it will be a festival of self expression, art and freedom. I’ve finally found a decent video clip that shows what it’s all about. Have a look… the festival runs from the end of August for a week – after BM I’m going to… well I’ll save that for the next post… I enjoy stringing you guys along like a bad reality show…
Japan – about year ago I was in Japan – what an awesome place! I was going through some photos today and found the Japan file and I thought I would share some favorites from the land of the rising sun….
Today is the last day of the New Zealand Mountain Film Festival and I wanted to share some of my highlights. There have been over 60 films over the last 5 days and there have been some great films. The only criteria for consideration is that the film has to deal in some way with outdoors – so there have been movies about climbing, skiing, surfing, mountain biking, paragliding, environmental issues and epic journeys. Most films fall into two distinct categories – they are either thinkers or stokers. Thinkers cause one to take pause and look at our world a little closer, bringing up outdoor issues that perhaps have been overlooked. Stokers are all about getting you psyched to get climbing, skiing, surfing or biking. Fast paced action by the best athletes in the world. This year there were awesome examples in both camps – here are my picks:
Thinkers: Sharkwater – as a surfer I’ve always been a little afraid of sharks – not anymore. This fascinating film is all about the misunderstood animal that is at the heart of most of our ocean fears. This year toppling Coke machines will kill more people then sharks. What’s more, sharks are being wiped out for their fins. Shark fin soup is a delicacy in Asia and they are killing thousands of sharks every day. This film was so powerful that within hours of its showing at the festival, there was a petition going around to urge the New Zealand government to ban shark fining.
Saving Luna – what happens when an animal decided that it wants to be friends with humans? Do we ignore it for its own sake? Or do we take the amazing opportunity to connect with another species. Forget what you think you know about whales, what you think is best for animals and witness the complexities of walking the walk.
Solo – In 2007 Andrew McAuley planned a kayak trip like no other. His plan was to paddle from Australia to New Zealand through the treacherous Southern Ocean. This 1600km stretch of ocean is some of the most unforgiving stretch of water in the world – howling gales, 10m waves and unrelenting wind. This film is more then a story of adventure, this is the story of the effect of adventure. What is the consequence when everything goes desperately wrong… really chilling stuff this one. I left the theater shattered.
Stokers: The Sharp End – this awesome climbing flick is all about the best in the world pushing the limits in the boldest of style. Amazing free solos, base soloing (that’s free soloing with a parachute on your back!), sketchy leads on scary gear and heaps more. The footage is awesome and the climbing is way ahead of its time.
Grit Kids – two teenage siblings from the UK who don’t just go climbing, they climb ‘death routes’ – these are incredibly hard and extremely dangerous climbs where a fall could mean death. When I was 17 I was just trying to climb 5.10 – these kids are climbing 5.13c R X… inspirational and scary….
Hope you enjoyed the mini festival – try and track down these full length movies, they’re well worth it.
The New Zealand Mountain Film Festival has been going on over the past weekend. It’s been an awesome event – clearly the best in its seven year history. I’ll post some highlights of some of my favorite films in a future post – there have been some stunners. As I posted about a little while back, I’ve been displaying some photos as part of the associated art exhibition. It’s been great, I’ve had fantastic reaction to the shots and there is some great art to share the space with my stuff. Definitely make sure to put it on your must-check-out list for next year, I know I’ll be back! Cheers S.
July 1st is Canada Day - Canada’s birthday. It’s a national holiday and a summer highlight for most Canadians. So what happens when you are a Canadian who is living overseas? Well, you have to make your own party and that’s just what we did yesterday. In fine tradition we started the evening off with a game of hockey down at the rink, Canadian born players vs. The World. We had a great game and not really surprisingly we did rather well as a team! Not sure what the final score was, the last I heard was 10-3 after that we stopped counting. In doing our best to keep it Canadian through and through we had a few beers on the bench and the quality of play deteriorated proportional to that. Extra points go to Dave who managed to put together a passable bottle of Molson Canadian Beer. No big deal you say? Well as you can’t get Canadian beer here, Dave got his brother to scan a label from a beer back in Canada, email him the image, print off 24 of them, soak the labels off of 24 Speight’s and then glue the ‘Molson’ labels on. Now that is commitment! After the game we headed into town to a Canada Day party at one of the local pubs – pizza and cheap Crown Royal filled the rest of the evening. Despite the hangover today, it has to go down as one of my better Canada Day’s ever – even if I was 13,000KM from Canada...
