Day 85

8/16/09: Off segment on Rt 19 north on Breton Island.
Port Hood, Nova Scotia to Cheticamp, Nova Scotia. 66 miles.

Check out Barney’s blog on http://www.nwpassage2.blogspot.com/

Woke up on south side of Mercury this morn to Barney calling out my name at 7:30am. One good thing……not as hot. I had to listen to the partying going on until way into the am last night, but I dozed in and out of the festivities. This was a rare morning as there was no dew on the tent, or condensation in the tent and under my gear last night, this because of the awesome sea winds blowing through one end of my open vestibule and out the other open vestibule. Flew through packing this morning and actually beat Barney to the finish, even when he’d gotten up an hour before me. Our French friend was up not too long after me. She planned on only riding to Inverness today, a short 45K ride for us, but a rather long ride for her. She made her own breakfast at camp and ate on the picnic table. We bid her all the best and we headed straight for our dinner outing, for breakfast. Got there before it opened, and were let in to have some coffee.
Once open it was time for the Grand Slam, me with the fish cakes, and Barney with the bucket-O-fries. And we each ordered a side of three pancakes. Growing boys need their food! And then it came – the cakes were about three quarters of an inch thick, and they had some serious weight to them. And then came the Grand Slam with home made wheat toast. Now THAT was a freaking breakfast, the last supper of breakfast’s, the boo koo of all Maritime breakfasts. I went through my cakes like a hungry dog, and then about the time I was eating my second supper heavy piece of home made wheat toast, I began to get the feeling that I was going to walk out of there with the tell-tale Buda Belly in full regalia. Wow. I could justttttt finish the meal. Now Barney – he was done in by this massive combo. And he offered me like his leftover cakes and toast, but I could barely move, let alone shovel down another batch of food, so I declined.
So we waddled out and mounted our steeds like a couple of LOSERS on the show “The Biggest Loser.” You know, I love to have a big breakfast and then go for a ride, but this was beyond comprehension. And I did about as slow and easy as I could go for the first 40 min of riding. I think same was the case for Barney. So we ride up Rt 19 north towards Inverness and come across this bike and hike trail again, and decided to give it a second chance. And for 20 min it was just wonderful, taking out behind the main road and through this series of lakes and inland salt marshes. What with the blue sky and some cotton ball clouds, it was just splendid. It was composed of crushed granite, freshly laid down, and had several very nicely constructed bridges every half mile or so crossing streams and sections of salt marsh. So I’m thinking that this would be just fantastic if it continued like this all the way to Inverness, which at that point was about 23K away.
Then we got to a point to where the finely crushed granite kind of deteriorated into a coarser rail ballast gravel, but still not too bad to ride on. So we just continued. So we go on for about another 2 miles like that until we got to a section where there were signs that warned of falling rocks – not a good sign! But hell, we were a solid couple of miles in, so we just continued on hoping that it wouldn’t last for long. But it DID, for a long, long time, getting so freaking bad that I was beginning to worry about either biffing in the thick, loose gravel, and boinking a spoke or tweeking a rim in the endless runs of loose gravel and larger cobbles. By that time we were in a pickle indeed. You get to a point where you’re so far in, and not knowing what was ahead, that you just have to plow on through and hope for the best up ahead in the unknown. This rather than backtrack for 45 min and then loose 1.5 hours in ride time. So we just pushed on.
There were many places where I just let the front wheel float through the loose stuff and hoped for the best what with a handlebar bag and two front panniers to fight with as I negotiated through the rubble. And then there was the precarious rear wheel, with spokes that are just barely holding up on the roads with my overloaded trailer, let alone surviving on this stuff. And my yak, it was rattling and rolling, bouncing up and down through everything. We even hit old RR ties and potholes. And we come around a corner hoping to see some freshly crushed granite to ride on, but nope – just another long stretch of shit stretching off into the distance. We eventually ran into a family who had got caught in the same trap as us, just venturing further and further into the abyss. And if you thought we were going slow pulling all that gear through this mess, you should have seen these folks, who have probably never ridden on anything other that finely groomed bike and hike trails. They were like in slow motion.
Couple of times we came to a gravel road crossing, but the gravel road was hilly, and what’s more, more loosely graveled than what we were already riding. Add to that the fact we didn’t know which way to turn even if it was a good surface. Take a wrong turn and it could be the day, or might I say an end to the day! So on we plowed. There was a point where I looked back at my rear wheel, and there it was……the freaking wobble. Had to be a broken spoke that I never even heard boink. Ok, now things were getting a bit serious. So we rode further until we got to an asphalt road crossing. Checked my wheel and sure enough I had a spoke broken. So we sit at this crossing, not knowing where the hell we were, and which way to turn…….until a truck came by. I flagged him down and asked for directions. Turns out we only had about 4 miles to go before the town of Inverness. We’d done about 8-9 slow, laborious, nerve-wracking miles on this trail. We turned off and made Inverness in less than 20 min. I pulled into this out of business place where there was some shade to change my spoke. Just across the street was a nice little café. Barney joined my and went over and bought a couple of ice cold cokes and some muffins.
Went through the whole routine of spoke changing, and was a filthy mess with all of the trail dust on my hands, legs, face, arms……..on and on. I was just coated with dust once I got done. Washed off with my waterbottle and my sweat rag, and we road onward, now setting our sights on the town of Cheticamp for our final destination, about 35K away. Back on Rt 19, and we were damn well staying put on this – the rest of the way. Bike trail forays became a thing of the past from there forward. And damn was it tough to get it rolling after spending 45 min on my wheel. We hit a steep hill from the start, and then it became power climbing central for another 6 miles. By the time I got my legs again, the road had changed to some really sweet freshly laid asphalt in this long series of gradual climbs that spanned a couple of miles each. Got into a super rhythm then and just cruised in the big ring.
The area out here, north of Inverness reminded me a lot of the foothills in Colorado, what with all the pine, the really nice gradual climbing, and the wonderful road surface. I eventually stopped at an information place, drinking about 3 bottles of water and using the free internet. Barney rolled in about 10 min later and did the same. Then it was time to get on the famous “Cabot Trail,” part of the Cape Breton Highlands ring road. It started for us at North East Margaree, where Rt 19 north wanders up above the Margaree River for 15k out to Margaree Harbor, where all of a sudden as you hit the ocean, the landscape changes dramatically – more a parallel to the Scottish Mores. From there forward it’s a stunning ride along the ocean up to Cheticamp. The road just winds up and down through these highlands mores one to two hundred feet above the ocean on your left hand side. With the awesome views, the climbing was just an aside to get you to the next great vista or panorama.
I reached the outskirts of Chiticamp and hit the first campground, a place out on Cheticamp Island, and 4K down a sideroad. So I waited for Barney. While waiting a guy shouts out of his car about my heavy load on the bike. And I nodded. Then he asked me if I needed a beer? Are you kidding me…..absolutely. We talked very briefly and I mentioned that I was waiting for my partner. So he gave me a beer for Barney and then hit the road. About 2 min later Barney rolls up, and I hand him an ice cold beer. By this time, what with our trail excursion, and my spoke change stop, it was after 5pm. We decided to get a cheap motel in Cheticamp, get wifi, get a major shower to spray off layers of trail dust, and get some grub. Ended up with a place in the downtown, right next to the water. The wifi – doesn’t work here. Did get a great shower and an awesome seafood dinner just down the block.
I’m finishing up here and will probably have to resort to the aircard – which just reems me bigtime with the roaming charges to get my emails and blog work done. Barney – he fell asleep on the bed almost as soon as he got his computer turned on. He’s still there, with computer safely sitting on his lap, totally nodded out. I’ll wake him once I get all this done so he doesn’t dump his computer on the floor when he rolls over to snore! Tomorrow we head up the Cabot Trail. Now we could very well not have any wifi, no internet, and no aircard for the next couple of days up there in the mountains. So if you do not see a blog, or if I do not answer my emails promptly – you know why. We should emerge out of the darkness sometime on Wed. All the best…….Pete