Day 39

6/30/09: Segment 36; Rennie, Manitoba to east of Kenora, Ontario; 68 miles
What a day. Man if it rains it pours, and then there's the good side of when it rains it pours. So this is how it went down.........
I was kept up to nearly midnight last night by a guy next door from the grocery store......cutting his lawn, logs, stumps, and any other thing his mower can hit, run over and crush. It sounded like Davey Tree over there the way he/she was blasting through junk for 2.5 hrs. Yup, nearly 3 hrs of lawn mowing/stump removal! Needless to say I could not for the life of me get to sleep during this time. It was totally crazy. And I just lay there sticking my fingers in my ears trying to block out the bushwacker next door. So I must of finally dozed off around 12:30am or 1am.
Then got up to a super cold morning. I mean in the upper 40's for gosh sake. Horrible thing of getting out of bed and putting on the cloths (which I'm wrapping up in my long sleeved jersey and sleeping with to keep warm for morning) to get out there and push the pedals in the cold. Now add the mosquitoes to the mix and it was that much more of me not wanting to get out of that warm sleeping bag. But........Ryan had me up, and by God I was getting up so we could leave early. So I pack, listening to the CBC radio news, still in my sleeping bag, put on cloths in sleeping bag, and finally, put bag and pad in stuff sacks and march out into the cold and mosquitoes for my final deed - tearing the tent down.
So I'm slapping and throwing a towel about chasing away the bugs as I'm getting the tent put away. It's like I'm working in 78 speed rather than 33 to get this done (those of you who have never used records.........forget about it). I get numerous bites as I finish the packing, and I rushed into the grocery for a hot coffee and danish. We hammer it down and then get out onto the roads. The temp has to be mid 40's, and the wind is still blowing hard from the northwest, but more from the north today. I really needed an ear warmer and tights, but they were packed and I was too lazy to take all that stuff apart and redoing. So I go with double shorts and dbl jerseys. Damn was I cold. I was nearly shivering as we took those first few pedal strokes down the road. Ryan I'm sure was pretty cold to.
Now the road was devoid of cars. Nothing coming up or back. And it was more of a country road now, with the giant rock outcroppings everywhere, now very typical of shield country. The road resembled like, Lake Rockwell Rd, as it was in fair to poor shape, but it was a blast to ride. I mean the scenery was awesome, what with the rock everywhere, streams of rust or tea color coming from every direction, and the clouds above us, thundering by with the wind. Very ominous, but very cool. So I get a rhythm going, and feel like I had finally warmed up, this about 6 miles into the ride, when something happened. I mean my right foot just kicked loose from the pedal, and I'm thinking that I must have come unclipped. Look down and my worst nightmare.........no pedal in the pedal axel. Matter of fact, only 1.5 inches of pedal axel there. The pedal was still attached to my shoe. And I tried to put my foot back in and knocked out a bushing from the inside of the pedal. So I know right off the bat that I'm ...........well, you fill in the words.
I stopped and waited for Ryan because there was nowhere to park my bike-yak to hunt for the bushing. Ryan gets there and is kind of amazed. We look for the bushing, but no luck. And I'm thinking, "heck, it's not really going to do me any good anyways, so the heck with it, I'm just going to continue without it." So we move on, with me sticking the pedal in the tiny piece of pedal axel and trying to pedal. It was pure hell. It would slip out every couple of revolutions, and I could not really put any significant down pressure on it. So I continue like this for a while, and my right leg is really starting to hurt. So I stop and have Ryan hold my bike while I change into my my one hiking shoe to try that method. Get one hiking shoe on and try it out. Wow, very difficult. Imagine 1.5 inches of axel to make contact with your shoe's sole! Slipping off every other pedal stroke. Hills? You're kidding me, I basically had to do one-leg exercises going up the hills, which I might add, just really started to hit us again after a week of the flats!
So I would do these one leg exercises on the hills, which got longer and higher as the ride wore on, and then I'd do the balancing thing on the flats and descents with the hiking shoe on the tiny pedal axel. It was insane. So I tired of the hiking shoe real fast. Back to the cycling shoe with the pedal hooked on it. Now at this point I had about 12 more miles to go before we got to the gas station at West Hawk Lake, an eternity the way I was pedaling. After about another 2 miles I had totally worn out the inside of the pedal so that it would barely hold the peg of axel on the crank arm. Ok, 86, pedal and just go with the cycling shoe. But before I could stop I slipped out of the axel and hit the ground with the pedal, knocking it off and into the bushes. Again, stop, get Ryan to hold bike while I hunt for the broken pedal. Found. And next step was to ride with shoe only.
Again, that was just as hard, just as maddening, just as frustrating as the other two options. But, no choice. I had to get this rig to the West Hawk Lake. And what there? I was hoping that I could get a junk pedal from someone's bike to get me the rest of the way to Kenora. So that was the plan.......junk pedal.........new pair of pedals in Kenora. So we keep going. And I can barely get this thing up hills, and then coast down the descents, and struggle on the flats. By 6 miles of this my right leg was really getting sore, and then my left leg started getting sore due to me doing a one legged exercise for miles. Add insult to injury a bear runs across the road just behind me, and then a car pulls up to me, signaling me to stop. So I stop and the guy tells me there's a mother moose up the road with youny that just charged his car. GREAT. Now all I need to do is run into this moose with one good leg. I could just invision myself doing a one legged sprint ahead of this charging mother moose. So I proceeded cautiously up the road. No moose. Thank God.
More hills, more struggles. Now I almost had to walk one of the hills, but kept er going with the one legged gig. Made it. I finally saw a sign: West Hawk Lake 12K. Now 12K normally is cake, but with one pedal.........eternity. So on we go, Ryan behind me, me creeping down the road with my right foot slipping off of the axel every other stroke. It took over 1.5 hrs to go those 13 miles, but we finally came to a store at West Hawk Lake. I go in and explain the situation to a lady in a plumbing shop. She does not have an old bike, but let's me use their tools, and directs me next door to the chain saw shop/post office for bike help. I go there and the lady in the postal part of the bldg says she has two old bikes that I can take a pedal off of, and directs me to her house, about 5 min away up a dirt road. I took my pedal axel with me just to be safe. Get there, take the pedal off with a crescent wrench borrowed from the plumbing shope, skrew in my broken axel into the old bike crank.YES! Now I'm feeling good. I go back and offer to give the postal lady 10 bucks but she says have a nice trip and all the best! Happy to help.
So I put in platform pedal, change into one hiking shoe/one cycling shoe, and off we go. And at this point I'm freezing from being off of the bike so long, and from building up a sweat and still being damp. So I tell Ryan I have to get rolling to get warm, and fly down the road. Now that platform pedal felt like heaven! Ecstacy! And I got it clicking.......right into a cross headwind. So my pace slows to a crawl despite my new pedal. I ride over the border, into Ontario, and all of a sudden the Rt 17 turns to complete and utter ----. No berm, the road was potholed and broken, a complete mess. It was under construction, and I'm in the middle of the lane with trucks and campers whizzing by. I'm dodging potholes, and trying not to fall into the gravel berm. I mean there's not let up here. And then there's the hills......with potholes, one platform pedal, trucks, hardly a full lane, and oncomming traffic. It was a complete catastrophy. And this continued for nearly 10 miles.
Finally, at a flagger traffic was stopped, and I asked the guy, "just how far does all of this go?" Wondering to myself if this mess went 300 miles to Thunder Bay? "Just 4K," he responds. Finally, some relief today. And sure enough, 4K and it was picture perfect asphalt with a berm a lane wide. Ok, just the cross headwind to deal with.........until Ryan jumps out of a car and flags me down???????????? "Dude, my yak wheel is trashed," he tells me. "I got a ride from Guy. We're going to Kenora to the bike shop." So I tell him to tell the fellers at the shop to be ready for me. And they go. It takes me nearly 2 hrs to do that 30 miles to Kenora, over hill and dale, against the cross headwind. I was mentally beat to a pulp by the time I pulled into the city. It's a beautiful place, right on the shore of Lake of the Woods, a massive inland lake as big as probably Lake Erie. Very picturesque.
So I go to the bike shop, the only one in the city, and there's Ryan and Guy at the counter, with Ryan paying for a new set of bearings and races for the yak wheel. They set me up asap with a set of Egg Beater pedals. No more Candies for this kid. I went with a heavier pedal axel. Slapped them on and off to lunch two doors down. Now Ryan had called Clayton to see if we could still crash at his farm, and they had connected and Clayton was on his way to meet us while we ate lunch with Guy. Great lunch, great place. Clayton comes in and my first question was, "do you live east or west of here?" And Clayton responds that he lives 10 miles east of Kenora. He was going to load our bikes in his truck and drive us to his house. I just could not do it. I had to ride seeing all of the problems we had today, and more importantly what this trip represents to me. I could not skip out on ten miles. And both Clayton and Ryan were good with that, so Clayton gave me directions and I rode to his farm. And I get there and am blown away. This is more like Bonanza, the Ponderosa, the spread, the kingdow. It's just amazingly huge. Hundreds and hundreds of acres. Now I'm going to let Ryan go into more detail on this place, but I was so knocked out.
Clayton has half of the farm self sufficient on electricity - using wind, solar, and hydro. Very impressive as he did it all himself - everything! Anyway, he took us for a tour on his ATV, down to the lakes, to the various houses and cabins. We were all over. And it's just beautiful. Finally we come back and his wife Diana has this fantastic dinner made for us - fresh battered fish, chicken, potatos, vegies, rice. The works. It was fantastic. We also met Clayton's dad and his dad's girlfriend. Now his pop is 88, and he has a girlfriend. That's cool!! The gentelman is quite a character, and we enjoyed some of his memories from the WW2 and first coming to Kenora here and clearing out the land for a farm. Definitely old school.
Well, I'll let Ryan take over, as he has a lot to talk about today. All the best. PS - no skype here so I cannot call folks today. I'll try tomorrow. We're staying here for a day, Canada's July 1- Canada Day. So I'll try in town with some wifi. Using Clayton's computer this eve........Pete

Ryan Adds:

What a day.I was freezing when I got up. I have been cold for 2 straight days. I ride my bike I'm cold. I change into my clothes I'm cold. I get in my tent I'm cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. We get riding and Pete breaks his pedal. He puts it back on and it flies off into the bushes. I'm laughing because that's what I do when I cant scream in frustration. We go do wn the road and a Bear crosses the road. Pete has big time Bearanoa. I mean the dude in Bearanoid. All through BC he is making bear comments. I was gonna spread hamburger on his tent one night to mess with him but I didn't. So immediately I thought how hilarious it was that Pete had one pedal and a bear had come to hunt him down. Superman trying to fly with no cape. I stopped hoping the bear would taunt Pete but he didn't. He ran away. A short while later a car stopped and warned us about an angry moose that charged their car. I got excited. I hoped the moose would chase us because then I could be cold and scared at the same time. We rode-no moose. We found a service station place and they gave Pete pedal. Canadians are so ncie and laidback. I think I am Canadian somehow. Maybe in a former life. We get to riding again and my yak tire is rubbing against the hub and making obnoxious noises so I stop to fix it and it is broken. I try for 30 minutes. No luck. 3rd time this trip I am in the middle of nowhere totally broken down. I pary a prayer for an angel to come by. Within minutes a Dude named Guy comes by and picks me up. He is 48 and is retired and said he wasn't going to Kenora but he had nothing else to do so he took me there. Crazy. Another amazing Canadian! We drive to Kenora. go to bike shop. Bike gets fixed for $34.03. The bike mechanic looked at the bearings and said "Dude this is really dangerous." I thought "whats dangerous about pulling 75 pounds of gear down roads I have never been down going upwards of 40mph at times." No biggie right. Guy ended up getting some bike gear. Pete rolled in and we ate at a Pub called Haps in Downtown Kenora. Amazing place. Boats. Houses. Islands everywhere. Another little slice of Canadian paradise. Then Clayton showed up and picked me up in his pick up and we headed back to his house. Pete and I met Clayton the other day in Beausejour. He told us to call him if we came to Kenora to stay at his farm. Um right Farm..

Farm means different things to different people. This place is 500 acres with 1.25 miles of direct lake access. Hills everywhere. Trees. Dirt roads. Solar panels. Wind towers. Geo Thermal panels. He even has a hydro generator in his river that generates electricity. Dude has his own river. Dude has his own lake with 15,000 trout in it. I did not stumble-15,000 trout. Heck I might even catch a fish with that many in there. It has it's own beach with a Bungalow. It has about 15 buildings on it. 4 houses. 3 workshops. I have seen alot of things in my life. I have traveled alot in my life. This place had me picking my jaw up off the floor. He has a really cool dog. Some canoes. Tractors. We rode around his property in an ATV. He has 250 chickens. He had a music festival here in 2004 on his property and 10,000 people came! This place is 1000 miles from Hudson and I hope to get to bring Quinn and my parents here someday. We had an enormous dinner. Fresh fish. Chicken. Veggies. Potatoes. Rice. Pie. Ice cream. Clayton brought out some crazy Canadian moonshine and I think he wanted to see me drunk. These Canadians are so nice and they keep trying to get the Ryguy intoxicated! Hasnt happened yet. Maybe in St.Johns. We are taking a day off tomorrow and hanging with Clayton and his family tomorrow to Celebrate Canada Day. I guees its like there version of 4th of July or something. Should be really fun. We are going canoeing, fishing, swimming in the lake, and I am going to shoot his 10 guage shot gun and kill some crows!

Day 38

6/29/09: Segment 36-37; Selkirk, Manitoba to Rennie, Manitoba; 78 miles.

         Last night was some kind of change in the weather. The wind continued to billow the tent, pull and push at the side walls, and shoot jets of air gusts through my open vestibule vents. And then there was a light drizzle and falling temps. That crazy front was still working it’s gloom and doom over the whole area. And the greater Winnipeg area had seen flooding and rain amounts that are pretty unheard of for this time of year. Records were set for rain in 24 hours.

Oh yea, and the 4 mm I was talking about a couple of blogs ago. It was not 4 mm that was forecast for Saturday night…….but 40mm!! And I was wrong about the winds yesterday. Heard on the news that near Lake Winnipeg the gusts reached 96 K. Yup, about 55+mph gusts! No wonder we were being thrown all over the roads. This created power outages all over the areas we rode through yesterday. Man, I’ll tell you, Ryan and I were exhausted from the mental anguish of trying not to get blown into the middle of the roads, and working to “manhandle” the bikes during these violent wind gusts. But the news this morning out of Winnipeg really put this whole storm weekend into perspective.

So with the high winds just hanging on through the night, the damp drizzle and the falling temps, getting up this morning to get on a bike and fight for another day was not a very inviting prospect. Now we’re doing this because we love to bike, that to be sure, but sometimes it’s hard to put on the happy face and hum oh do da day for 5-8 hrs as you’re getting your arse handed to you by Mother Nature. In fact that’s the ultimate challenge of doing a trip like this – dealing with Mother Nature in all her glory – good and bad – with fresh legs or tired legs – day in and day out.

Ryan had to get up at 5am to do some computer work at the library wifi hotspot before we left. So he was out there freezing his ---- off from the wee hours of the morn. I on the other hand, stayed put like a bug in a rug to 7am. And even then, when Ryan yelled from his vestibule that coffee was on, I was less than enthusiastic to get out of the sleeping bag to receive my java. Finally coaxed myself to go over and get a cup, rushing back to my peeping slag and digging in deep while I sipped piping hot coffee. It just took so long to get it all going, as I was putting on my garb inside my sleeping bag, and doing all my packing while in my sleeping bag. Then there was the tent to pull down with the winds still howling. It was a major pain to get all the gear stowed this morning. So we big farewell to the Father, thanked him and his caretaker friend for their hospitality and got it rolling down Rt 9A south to Lockport, and to the junction with Rt 44.

The wind was crazy as we rambled down the middle of Selkirk towards Lockport. The ride south was good, as we were darned near with a dead tailwind. And the wind direction had changed slightly from yesterday as today it was way more from the north than from the northwest. Good we had hoped. UNTIL we turned on Rt 44 east in Lockport on Rt 44. And then it hit us – the crosswind from the north. And man, what a difference a day makes. Today we were struggling to maintain a 14 mph average. No running and gunning with 30 mph pulls on this day. The gusting continued with some goodies in the 25-30 mph range, but nothing like the hammering we took yesterday. Give a little of this for a little of that. And we ended up giving up the hard gusting for a gnarly crosswind.

About 1:45 hrs in we entered the city of Beausejour, having covered a whopping 26 miles. OUCH. We know then and there that this was going to be one of those very tough days in the saddle. It was cold, very cold as the local bank temp. sign said it was high 50’s. Couple that with the winds and you just had to seek shelter as soon as you got off of the bike. We dipped into the local breakfast hourse called the Cook Pot. This was a great little breakfast hangout, and we just happened to stumble upon it. Both of us ordered out hot chocolates, and followed that with the breakfast special of eggs, toast, hash brown and sausage. Now we’re not normally breakfast stop guys, but on a day like today, that was darned near a pre req for getting through this day – stopping every couple of hours to warm up and psych up for the next 2 hrs of cycling.

         The food was awesome, the hot chocolate was just what we needed to warm the blood up. There we met a couple from Kenora. He asked us about our trip, and where we were staying once we got up around Kenora, and we told him we just camp at campgrounds and/or ask permission to camp at churches, and truck stops. He just invited us to his farm, right like that. Said to come on down and we could even have breakfast the next morning. Well, we told him that we had intended to make Kenora today, but with the wind the way it was , just getting half that far today was a victory. So he said, come by the next day if we wanted. Well, I’ll tell you, that sure made us feel good about continuing through the cold, wind and drizzle. He gave us his number and then he and his wife left. We finished breakfast, had another cup of hot choc and then I went up to pay the bill and the waitress said, “this is on me, you guys have a great trip in Canada.” And I’m like, “excuse me.?” “Yes,” she said, “this breakfast is on me, you guys have a great time on your trip.” We were floored. After a million thanks, we insisted that she take a 5 dollar tip, and thanked her several more times.

         Walked out of there and, I’m like, “did we just get invited to stay at someone’s farm AND get breakfast given to us in a diner?” We did indeed. And the surprised just keep on coming here in Canada. I think that the Canadians really respect the fact to two Yanks are taking three months to travel across their country. Truly amazing. So back on the bikes to battle the winds of the north. And we knew we had this long 20+ mile stretch straight line due east. So the cross wind would be a real Be ach! Then we would have a little trend to the south to the town of Whitemouth. Off we go, and Ryan is just not completely there today, and falls off after about 10 min. So I’m on my own just me and my thoughts. And my though today was to get through this 20+ mile section and then rest in Whitemouth in prep for the last 20+ mile section.

And this puppy was long. Long and straight and with a crazy crosswind. Then the mind games begin, as I try my best not to look at my trip timer because the min pass as if I’m in a state of suspended, time-warped, slowed down, minutes last forever mode. Feels like you’ve been riding for a half hour……..oooopppppsss….nope that was just 8 min of riding. And so it goes. DO NOT LOOK AT THE TRIP TIMER. Just look around, feel the place, listen to the wind, watch the road because there’s no berm here. And oh yea, the road is a crust old, broken thing, with cracks every 6 feet. So you just don’t have a smooth ride as YOUR’RE FREAKING RIDING SO SLOW. The bad road just magnifies the whole situation. And it goes and goes for what seems like 4 hours. But it’s just 1:50 hours. And finally I hit that trend south, and I get the tailwind. But I’de been fighting the cross for so long that I just didn’t have the push to hammer with the tail. So I soft pedaled to Whitemouth.

I waited for Ryan. And finally dude rolls in and it’s like, “dude, I do not have in me today. I’m toast. We need to talk.” And I know that he’s not going to want to try to make the Ontario border today. Which at this point was another 42 miles of fighting the wind. So I suggest that we eat lunch and talk about it. We pick a little hotel diner, again, because we can sit in a warm place away from the cold wind. Ryan gets the fish and chips and I get the hot soup and sandwich. And things are good. So I throw out the 64 thousand dollar question: “How much further do you want to go?” And he pauses, for a while. I sense that he could bag it right there in Whitemouth, just 55 miles into the day, and 4 hours into the ride. Now I was not in the mood to do the next 42 miles to the border either, but I was hoping to get just one more 20-miler in to make it a day of 70+ miles. So while he was in though I suggested the town of Rennie, about 22 miles further to the southeast.

And after getting some food in our bellies the thought of going for 1.5-2 more hours seemed palatable. So we agreed to go for it. We were told that the town of Rennie had a store and camping. And off we go, one more time, into the cold and wind, for our final jaunt down the road for the day. No, we wouldn’t make the line, but we were very close, and the forecast for Tues was much better than today. Plus, we’d have just 70 miles to get to Clayton’s house, the farmer we met in the breakfast diner.

Now as soon as we got out of Whitemouth I noticed something major, something very big indeed – at least for us. I was seeing these big exposures of rock outcrops. It looked like igneous or metamorphic rock. And then I see more, and then I see rock cuts through this stuff. And bingo…….we have just hit the Canadian Shield. WE WERE OUT OF THE GREAT PLAINS. And more and more of this exposed Canadian Shield rock appears on the roadside, and off in the distance. And some of it is becoming hills and high points. And the trees were changing. Now there was much taller stands of fir tree. And the creeds were turning to that rusty tan color I was so used to seeing up in Ontario and Upper Michigan. We’d done it. It took us exactly 2 weeks to pedal through the prairie lands of Canada. I was really proud. As proud as I was when we had done our last climb in the Rockies.

And this really took my mind off of that last bit of riding. I was just so stoked that the landscape had changed that dramatically in such a short span of miles. It was truly amazing. So I was charged, and I just cranked it for the last 10 miles, taking in the rock outcrops, and marveling at the fact that we were on the verge of going through our fourth province, and getting into Canadian Shield country. Awesome!

I make it into Rennie, and the mosquitoes are just incredible when I stop – another strong indicator of getting into the bush country of Ontario. I’m swatting as I wait for Ryan. So I finally go to the store, a small market just off of the road. I go inside and inquire about camping. They tell me that the place in Rennie is not open yet, or full, not quite sure. I ask is there’s anywhere close to camp. The owner, Connie, say we can just camp there, in the back yard behind the store, and grab a shower in the morning. Again, I’m floored by the generosity. So now I’m really stoked. Ryan rolls in and I tell him of our good fortune. It’s awesome. So we fly out to the back to set up before the mosquitoes get terrible.

Ryan is smacking and cracking at the things like he’s never seen mosquitoes before. And he’s like, “you’re right dude, these things are terrible out here.” And I tell him he ain’t seen nothing yet! Wait for the no-see-ums. We get the tents up, swatting and smacking. Ryan even puts on his jeans and wraps a shirt around his head. I was chuckling all the time I’m setting up. This guy is wrapped up like a mummy for gosh’s sake, and I’m in my cycling kit. I tell him not to fixate on the things.

We get set up, go in and buy our dinner and then I go out and use the gazebo as Connie said we could use, while Ryan was tucked in his mosquito cocoon Hotel Hille making his mac and cheese. I even sported for a bottle of wine. So I’m sitting here now, quite full, very happy we got our day in, and finishing this blog. Life is good. Life is crazy. And the people in Canada has been so great to us. They make us feel like rock stars for sure.

So tomorrow we enter our fifth province, and head to Kenora, to Clayton’s farm for the destination. The week’s forecast is very good for the greater Winnipeg area, so I hope that that carries over to Western Ontario.

Again, thanks everyone for your contact emails. We love getting feedback. And Judy……I hope to call the right number this time!! All the best………Pete

Day 37

6/28/09: Off Route; Ericsdale Manitoba to Selkirk, Manitoba; 110 miles.

         On the road again! And did it feel good to get back to making our way across Canada. The prairie wind machine was turned on full blast today, as we woke up to the sounds of these massive wind gusts. The only real worry was……..what was the direction.

         Now last night we watched one more movie, and Ryan fell asleep, and I turned it off around 11pm. It was the Batman with George Cloony. Kind of lame actually. But the nice thing of the evening was that you could see some clearing in the west as this massive monsoon was actually rolling out of the area. So we both felt pretty positive that the morning would be for riding. So got up at 5:50am to the howling winds. First thing I did was to open the door, with both fingers crossed, toes crossed, hail Mary’s and the whole bit, and just hope for something that would aid us. And the verdict was……..winds out of the northwest at anywhere from 20-35+ mph. Now I’m telling you, these prairie winds are just out of hand. They can be constant or they can be constant with massive gusts. We had the latter today.        

         Got on the road at about 7:30am, which was great for two reasons: the first of which is that we can cover more mileage when it’s cooler out, and the second is that I’m beginning to think that the bulldogs are a late riser – not coming out to torment animals until 10 or 11am. So we figured we put some good time in before the bulldog-fest would begin. As we’ve found out in the past, the winds don’t make a bit of difference to these little harpies, as they’ll hang out in a talwind, crosswind, headwind, no matter how fierce the velocity of the wind can be. They are there. Period!

         So we get this beautiful cross tailwind out of the northwest, a first for the Great Plains wind direction. Most everything we’ve had thus far has been out of the southwest, and it just so happened that today we had a portion of southerly riding that would go for nearly 60 miles. Now a week ago that 60-mile piece of riding would have been crazy hard to do in the cross headwind, so today we felt we had to strike while the iron was hot, taking advantage of the wind direction and riding that whole southerly portion today. That was the plan. Game on. So the first stretch of riding, about 40+ min worth, was with the cross tailwind. And the the road did this insane curve to the north, curving and curving and we just knew what was coming……from 18 mph to 8 mph within one sweeping curve. And this puppy was constant for about 13 min. Believe me, I’m timing the minutia of everything, just because sometimes you have to play mind games with yourself to get it rolling 5-8 hrs a day on the bike. 

         And I’m telling Ryan while we’re fighting this crazy headwind about the headwind I fought in Iceland one day, a headwind that had me down to 5 mph, in the little cookie, for 12 straight hrs of riding! Worst headwind day of my life actually. So we both felt good that we were nearly double that number going into this headwind. We rounded the corner finally, and curved back to a cross tailwind for another long, 1 + hr stretch of riding. One more small curve and headwind section and we were golden. The rest of the way on Rt 68 to Arborg was nice and flat with a great cross tailwind.

         Jumped on Rt 7 south to Winnipeg and again, got a good cross tailwind, but this time the gusts were just pushing us all over the road. Thank God for the berm, because a couple of times we were just thrown out into the traffic side of the road. There were times were I was thirsty, but didn’t dare go down with one hand to reach for a water bottle, for fear of the wind gusting so hard as to knock me off of the bike with that one hand steering. So I’d wait for a rare moment when the wind died down, reach for the bottle real quick, take a swig, and then hold the bottle in the right hand and steer until I got another little lull in the wind. Sometimes I’d have to steer with bottle in hand for a good 5-10 min before it felt as though the wind was dieing down.

         The push south was actually stronger than the push west, so we were just tearing up up on the Rt 7 south portion. This is a road that is so straight and flat it’s beyond belief. It just goes and goes and goes, with hardly any features at all with respect to up and down. Straight and flat. That’s it. So we take this thing for nearly an hour, just smashing the pedals. Ryan backed off just a bit and I cruised into to our next junction, I think it’s Rt 321 east (don’t have a map on me right now as I’m sitting at the Selkirk library which is closed, using the internet. Great connection, so I’m planted here until I go back to camp). Anyway, we took this little country road east to Lake Winnipeg, looking to go to Gimli, Manitoba. Didn’t take but about 10 miles with the cross tail and we were there.

         Next up……..Subway. By Gimil we’d done 72 miles in 4 hours, so we did our usual routine: me 2 12-inch subs; Ryan 1 12-inch sub; both with sodas. The temp in there was like……well like a meat locker, and when we went out to ride we were both chilled to the bone. Couple that with the very cool, very windy day today, and we had the chills. I had to put on my long sleeve cycling jersey to try to get warm. My fingers were numb and tingling, and I kind of had the chills going. Ryan was the same. So were now on Rt 9 south out of Gimli, freezing cold, and trying to crank it back up to speed again with 24 inches of subs in my gut. Burp, burp, burp. Not a good feeling.

         Finally got warm within about an hour of riding, and eventually cranked the mph’s up to a good level again. So we see a sign for Selkirk, the town we had agreed would make a good destination for the day, that said it was 27 K away. Just what I needed. With a great cross tail, I really began to smell the hay and the barn, and gradually cranked up the mph to the point to where we were doing 30 mph. Now, I was working pretty hard, and couple that with a cross tailwind that was literally laying the roadside grasses down horizontal to the surface, and you can imagine riding a mt bike with 85 lbs of junk on board at 30 mph. It was a thing of beauty. We were able to sustain this pace for a bit, fluctuating between that and 25 mph for the last half hour. Pulled into Selkirk with 5:50 hrs of riding under our belts, having covered a distance of 110 miles. Some of the overriding today was to help to make up for what we lost yesterday with the forced off-day.

         Ryan checked with the Father of a nice little Catholic church here in town and we were given permission to camp in their courtyard. It’s a wonderful little fenced in area with a garden and spigots for water. They’ve had so much rain in the Winnipeg area over the last 2 days that there are large lakes of water on crops, alongside the roadways…… and in this courtyard, as a large wheelbarrow is completely full of water. Totally full, brimming over full, ready to explode full. And in just 2 days of rain. That’s how crazy it rained over the last 48 hours out here. We were even told by one of the custodians of the church that areas of road are closed because the manholes have backed up.

         So when we told you of the deluge yesterday, I was not kidding. It was just so nasty that there was not even an issue of riding in it. NOPE!

Well, I’m just about done here at the library, and I think I’ll go next door to the DQ and get some burgers to go, to have dinner in the hotel Hille back at the church. We’re going to get back on segment tomorrow and continue going east on Rt 44, which is about 5 miles southeast out of Selkirk. I’m hoping we an make the Ontario border sometime on Tuesday, and then it’s Rt 17 all the way past the Su, just north of Michigan’s UP. So we’re getting into familiar territory once we get to Ontario, as I’ve ridden this route many many years ago when I was in college. Hope they’ve worked on the berm since then!

I’ll sign out. All the best every one………..Pete

Day 36

6/27/09: Off Day; Ericsdale Manitoba; No miles.

It’s 11:30am and we just finished watching the Vince Vaughn Wild West Show on satellite TV, in our cheap Ericsdale motel room. The movie finishes with Willy Nelson’s song “On the road again.” And believe me, that’s where we’d like to be, cruising down the highway, free and easy, even if we had to fight those wonderful little bulldogs for another day. But, it’s raining very steady out right now. Has been ever since early this morning. The temp has fallen to the high 50’s/low 60’s.

         I heard the rain beginning very early in the morning, and I kind of had this feeling in my gut that we were grounded for the day. Woke up at 7am, and was still raining like a mini monsoon. Made our complimentary motel coffee packet with the plastic Sunbeam coffee maker. And then we asked for a couple more. More rain. More coffee. And then a movie.  And another movie. Still raining…. hard to easy….to moderate…..back to hard……..just still raining. So it get’s to be 9:30am, and we just got done watching Michael Clayton, and the gremlin start to growl down there, setting off the hungries in our bellies. Ryan rides down to the gas station/café, and I walk. He ends up buying that ugly, gross, nasty looking microwave double burger that we both poked for of last night. Me, I’m a first class garbage gut, but I draw the line with microwavable hot dogs and hamburgers, and THAT hamburger looked like……well…….doo doo patty in a bun!

         So I go in to the café for a home made breakfast. And it’s the kind of place where everyone knows everyone, people laughing, joking, asking about the family, the job, the kids, and commenting on the wet day out there. It was interesting just listening, being the outsider that I was, to the goings on in this little slice of Manitoba, this little place that is one of countless other little towns and dots and circles on the big map of Manitoba I carry in my handlebar bag. Their world is my world for this day, in this place that Ryan and I though was really one of the most boring places to be stranded for an evening. And now we’re stranded for another day.

I mean heck, it has two town food markets, a building store, a farm coop, a post office with one good natured, elderly lady minding the place, two gas stations, a flower shop that probably won’t make it past the 4^th of July, and a collection of buildings that are either condemned and/or have boarded up windows and haven’t seen a good day in years. Just not much here. Not much to love. But it’s home to all these people in the café, out here in what seems like the middle of nowhere, in a province that is largely composed of lake, marsh, bog, and untold miles of bush. Crazy, but I think this is really the truer picture of North America than what we imagine it to be. This is small town Canada, and could very well also be small town USA. Same thing, same people, same small town in the middle of nowhere. Ditto. Ditto. Ditto. All across North America.

         I get a great breakfast of three eggs, three pieces of toast, 8 slices of bacon and hash browns – 8 bucks. Ryan’s doo doo burger – 6 bucks. Which door do you choose? After breakfast I brave the monsoon to walk over to a store to pick up a bubble wrap mailer to send Jerry some photo CD’s I burned for the photo section of our website. No luck at either of the small markets. So I just go to the postal office and hope they have extras there. Bingo! They’re $1.79. So I talk with the postal lady for a bit, and she tells me we should stay in Ericsdale for Canada Day on July 1. “We’re having a big celebration here,” she tells me. And I’m flattered that she wants us to hang around long enough to celebrate this grand day in Ericsdale, but that’s like…..Sun, Mon, Tue, Wed……..4 days off. And we have to get “On the road again.” So I politely decline the offer, and get the package done for Jerry. I ask her if there’s a short cut back to our motel rather than me, soaked as I was, walking all the way back around via the roads. I saw trees and a field separating the center of town, on one end, from our motel on the other. And turns out there is indeed a short cut gravel path between the two, and she directs me to the right of the postal office to a little gravel path.

         It takes me a fourth of the time to walk back via short cut than back on the roads. We watch the Vince Vaughn Comedy show. And now here I am, still checking out the window every 15 min looking at the rain, wanting to be back “On the road again.” It’s always fun stopping for a night somewhere, meeting new people, learning and looking at the new place that becomes your home for a night, or a day, and then moving on, making ground, taking the journey to the next destination east. But I tend to get restless when we’ve got a forced grounding like this. The rain, the dark motel room, and nothing but TV, the news, movies, and watching the rain outside, Constantly watching that rain. Not even a movie theater here, no pub, no nothing, so I’ve got to entertain myself by writing this blog. Hopefully you don’t find it as boring as a rainy day in Ericsdale! Well, I’ll get going again later in the eve. Right now I sense that we’re on our way to getting some lunch at the market.

2:15pm I walked over to the one of two markets, the smaller one with the home town feel. The butcher, whom I think is the owner, was a pretty friendly guy, and gave me a pen and calendar, after we got to talking. You see strangers in town like us are like a beacon, attracting all kinds of looks. So he immediately know that I was the “other” biker, as he’d met Ryan last evening when Ryan went in for some snacks. So I told him that we were staying the day and waiting for tomorrow when the weather system cleared out to continue our journey. He wished us luck with a big smile and continued to cut up a rack of meat.

Bought some ham from the deli, a couple of tomatoes, an onion and a loaf of bread to make some in-the-motel-room sandwiches. I also got some home made bakery, cookies, that are just delicious. Walked back to the motel, along with a guy who’s visiting relatives here. He was taking the same short cut to the motel area, where there’s another cafe. Again, he noticed that I was not a local, and was curious about my doings in Ericsdale. I went through the story, which at this point is almost a memorized paragraph or so, of where we’re headed to and how we’re doing it. At least I feel at this point that we’ve made some real progress being in Manitoba. Back when we were telling our story in BC, I felt pretty embarrassed about the whole thing, seeing that we hadn’t even covered one complete province. So anyway, he seemed pretty impressed that we’ve made it this far – so I call that progress!!

         Back to the hotel for a mini eat fest of fresh lunch meat, tomato, onion sandwiches………..and another movie. I swear, Ryan’s eyes are going to fall right out of his head come a couple more movies. Dude is seriously into the movie mode. I just read this last paragraph to him and he told me he’s on movie number 5 for the day. Tomorrow could never come sooner!!

6:30pm Still raining. Still watching TERRIBLE movies, the current one of which Ryan is glued to is Delta Force with Chuck Norris, circa 1986. It reminds me of Love Boat, what with all the has-been, washed up TV personalities starring in this thing.  It is corny and laughable at the same time. I’m sure Ryan has no idea what Love Boat is, but by the time he gets done with the movie day today, he’ll have a great intro to that genera of shlock.

So what to do……how about go to the gas station café and order the mushroom burger, bacon cheeseburger, the chick sandwich and some moza fries (French fries slathered in gravy with melted cheese over top). Yup, I think that will do it. Throw in some more Bugles for the nightcap and bingo bango – dinner. Oh, yea, it’s 6:55 and it’s still raining…. like hell, sometimes steady……sometimes just a deluge. And it’s got the locals talking alright. “Some kind of rain this is,” I heard a guy at the café say to the cashier. “Yea, they’re talking about 4 more millimeters tonight,” she told him. And so it goes, rain, rain, and more rain. Delta Force almost over, and I don’t know what goodie is next to watch. Stay tuned ………..OUT……..Pete

 

Today I crawled deep in my man cave and never came out.

I am watching my 7^th movie. Vince Vaughans Wild West Comedy Tour, The Last Winter, The life of Winchell, The Bucket List, The Lookout, Delta Force, and now Rush Hour 3.

I have eatin all day. Coffee, PBJ Sandwiches. 2 Burgers, 2 Ham Sandwiches, 2 packages of Rollos, a snickers, some cookies. Several bottles of water.

I have taken 3 naps today. I like laying around after riding a lot but even today was a bit much. It has been raining crazy all day. Anyways back to watch Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker kick some butt. Petes has hated every movie today which has made it all the more funny.

Day 35

6/26/09: Off Segment; Narrows of Lac Manitoba to Ericsdale Manitoba; 43 miles.

We ended up getting a massive triple scoop of Canadian Maple Walnut ice cream last evening with a coupon, courtesy of a lady who gave us some bug spray while we were down on the beach of Lac Manitoba yesterday. It was a father’s day thing she had left over from last weekend. Ryan sweet talked the waitress into another double scoop. Me, too old to get away with that from a young lady anymore, and anyway, I was pretty full what with the big dinner at the Narrows Lodge, and the several beers I drank. So we ambled off to the Hotel Hille’s for sleep. I put in another hour on the computer doing some workout material, and then it was beddy by.

         Forgot to mention that we stopped at a farm yesterday to buy some home made bison jerky, this we found out about from our friend at Heavenly Scoop the café/ice cream store. She had told us to look for the bison head on a stick when we got to the junction of Rt 68 and Rt 5. And sure enough it was there. So we pulled in the drive and kind of surprised the lady there. She kind of appologised that the jerky was now being produced by a different outfit, but that made no difference to us – we wanted that bag of jerky to munch on, and I’d been thinking of it since we left Heavenly Scoop.

         The lady invited us in, gave us some great, ice cold lemon aid, and went into the basement to grab a pound of bison jerky sticks. She was very nice inviting us in, etc, and we talked for a bit about our trip, our day, and our travels. I broke open a stick for Ryan and I and this stuff was just great. Very good idea to stop by and sample some of the regional food. I love doing this kind of stuff while on the road. It really gives you a flavor of what kinds of food are available in other areas of the world, especially the home made variety. So this turned out to be a great little rest stop to. We paid 25 bucks for the jerky, and munched on half of it during the rest of the day.

         Ok, to today. The wind had picked up last night, blowing in a front, and by morning, the cloud deck was right over us, and the winds were very gnarly and out of the south. Another ominous start was ahead of us. We hurriedly packed and jumped straight on the road, with Ryan having made some coffee in the vestibule prior to our departure. And from the get go it was slow going into the crosswind. The road did 90’s and 180’s all over the place making the riding uneven in the average speed – very slow and laborious into the headwind, and just a bit better in the crosswind. And for the time being, the Bulldogs were nowhere in sight, maybe the result of the cooler weather, the wind (nope, they thrived in all winds yesterday), and maybe the overcast weather. Who knows, but they were absent, and that was very good.

         The road is totally flat, or very, very gently up and down, and it’s almost imperceptible if not for watching the cars either just continue down the endless stretch of highway until they disappear, or until they kind of drop off the horizon line suddenly. If they drop off you know you’re climbing and will later descend just as slowly. If they kind of turn into a smaller and smaller dot, and then just disappear, then the road is dead flat. And some of these stretches just seem to go on into the horizon for as far as the eye can see. You can play mind games with yourself on long stretches of road like this. There are kind of like optical illusions that occur in this environment to – like you see the road just going on forever, and then you get up to a certain point and it’s a side road that continues straight, while the road you’re riding on is actually turning to the left or right. So sometimes you just don’t know. But I will tell you this, this area is some of the flattest land I’ve ever ridden on.

         Even the lakes are flat, with no rises around them, no banks to them, no nothing. The lakes just lay there like a blue splotches on a mirror. The vegetation is more of the northern bush variety, and the locals even call this backcountry “the bush”. Much of it is marshy, and a tangle of wetlands and bogs that stretch on for hundreds of miles, connecting to lakes, and flat land bridges, and fields and meadows. It’s staggering to look at the vastness of these lake and wetland areas.

         So we rode on, twisting and turning on this Rt 68, through the Narrows and past Lac Manitoba, along the south shore of Dog Lake, and through these amazing stretches of marsh and bog. The clouds got thicker and we ran into just a light drizzle of rain, with both of us wondering if that was the signal to an impending downpour as we had riding to Saskatoon nearly a week ago. I’m still a bit gun shy from riding through that deluge, so I was constantly scanning the horizon for the wall of black, but only a light drizzle hung with us.

         We got on a great, brand new section of asphalt, and got just a bit of a rhythm going into the crosswind, when a farmer came up to us on a ATV pulling a trailer. He chatted with Ryan for a bit as we road, and then bit us a good trip and fired up the road to put in fence posts with his partner. And round about then Ryan mentioned the lack of the Bulldogs. And I shushed him just like a fan would shush another fan if the pitcher in the baseball game they’re watching was pitching a no-hitter – bad karma to mention it. And damn, wouldn’t you know it, one bulldog, two, 10, 20…….THEY’RE BACK! Now it could have been that the sun came out for a bit, and the temps went up significantly, enough for these harpies to get out of bed and commence to maligning all living mammals in their vicinity.

         And right about that time we had a road change to Rt 6 south, and rode smack dab into the headwind, and it had gotten even worse than when we had started. It was vicious, fighting the headwind at 10 mph and dealing with the swarms of bulldogs again. Today I just did not have the zeal and passion to smash these creatures as I had on the two previous days. I was tired, my legs were totally cooked for nearly 700 mile of riding in one week, and I was hungry and out of gas. In the saddle, out of the saddle, in and out, in and out, for 11K, battling the headwind. And to add insult to injury, I got nailed by two of the bulldogs, a nasty little bite between my shoulder blades and a doosy to my right side. So this caused me to constantly swat at my back and shoulders just to be safe. All this created one tired puppy. I was hoping to make Arborg after we stopped in Ericsdale for lunch, but half way into the gnarly 11k I was really wanting to just cash it in and go to sleep.

         That 11K seemed to go on forever, and I kept telling myself it’s just about the same distance from Hampton Hills to downtown Peninsula, with with a horrible headwind and these flies from hell. And I kept looking for signs, buildings, anything that spoke of a town coming up. But all I could see was miles of empty bush out in front of me, as far as the eyes could see. A half hour later I began to see those signs and a gas station off in the distance. Did it! I pedaled a bit further to a gas station/store/restaurant, and went in for a Dr. Pepper and a big triple chocolate muffin. Went into the restaurant section and guzzled the soda and devoured the muffin. I waited for Ryan to come in, and when he did, he looked just as bedraggled as I. We were whipped, dead tired, hungry as heck, and barely able to converse. Those 11 K’s were the final butt whoopin to the 7 tough days of riding, and we both agreed that we needed rest, and that we’d get a cheap motel.

         We ordered a lunch, ate, and then headed to the motel, one of two available in the “blink and you’re through it” town. A trucker inside the gas station recommended the place we rode to, saying the other was pretty bad. Now we pulled up to this one, and let me tell you, it looks more like a cheap crack motel, or “rent by the hour” place than a place to rest and relax. But no choice – next town……….43 miles away. This was home for the rest of the day. We ended up with 43 miles today, and I’m happy we made something out of the day, but a bit concerned that with tomorrow’s rainy forecast, we may have further to ride in the rain to stay on track, or worst case – to stay put in this place for a day of hard rain.

         We got the place for about 50 bucks, and opened the door, pulled out bikes and yaks in, and we both collectively collapsed on our beds, taking a TKO for about 30 min. I had all my gear on, my cycling shoes on, hit the bed face first, with ankles and feet dangling off of the end of the bed and face buried into the edge of the pillows. I felt as though I’d been up for days on end with zero sleep. Ryan – same thing. He finally was able to get up, turn on the cable, and watch a movie with the sound turned way down. I eventually managed to shake off the hard crashed and went into the bathroom to shave and shower.

         We’re going to venture out of our crash pad now and get some dinner. We’re both so hungry that I’m sure we’ll have a goofy story here. Back in a few.

         No real goofy stories on food, other than the fact that we can eat and eat and eat and still be hungry. I got a mushroom burger, a bacon cheeseburger and a chicken sandwich from the little place where we got lunch, munched them down like a starved dog, and I was right back out the door, back to the gas station, and came out with a big triple chocolate muffin and Bugles corn snacks……and………still hungry. Curse this appetite!! And now from Ryan on today.

 

Ryan Adds:

Tired-the Greek word for don’t go on a bike ride. I am typically talkative for the first 2 hours of our ride. No thanks to the colossal amounts of instant coffee, sugar, and non dairy creamer I put in my water bottle which acts as my coffee mug each morning. On these trips you have to have multiple uses for each item. I put so much coffee, sugar, and creamer in each cup that it fills up ¼ of each bottle. This gives me jabber jaw each morning for 2 hours. I was thankful today because I knew the ride was gonna suck. It was overcast. Bad headwind. Tired legs. I did not wanna get up. So Pete and I talked about all sorts of things. Then after about 2 hours I put my Ipod on which is what I normally do after I’m chatted out. We went for a while and then I just suffered the last 11k. Pure misery. I thought Pete was gonna tell me he wanted to ride another 100k. Lucky for me he was thrashed to so we ended the day right then. Lunch. Motel. Nap. Movies. Get cleaned up. AKA-manscaping. Nothing much today. I am just whooped. Gonna crash early and eat a whole box of cookies I bought at the store. CYA. 

Day 34

6/24/09: Off Segment; Dauphin, Manitoba to the Narrows of Lac Manitoba, Manitoba; 73 miles.

First: Caveman Kenny…….any other email address I can get you at. Your email address will not work when I send you a reply to your emails through our contact form. And thanks to everyone for your emails. We try to answer most all of them, but with the hit or miss nature of getting wifi in some of these places…..it’s not always a for sure.

         Funny how a trip like this ebbs and flows. I’ll have to say that this day was reserved for the “Bulldog”. The bulldog, as some of the locals call it, is that eternal harpy, that incessant creature that I described to you yesterday, the horse fly. Today was something I’ve never experienced, and to a certain extent it was an exercise in unpleasantness management to say the very least.

         First let me digress to this morning and work into the Bulldog theme. I woke up way too late today, sometime around 8am, and I reiterated to Ryan afterwards, “WAKE ME, I DON’T CARE, WAKE ME!” I hate getting on the road that late in the day. But for some reason I just overslept, and Ryan has been too good natured to wake me in the midst of my oversleeping. Probably, since I work late at night on my coaching stuff, I’m just not getting my fill of sleep. Oh well, that’s my cross to bear. Could be a lot worse I suppose. So I rush to get a grip on the day. By the time I clear out the tent, Ryan is totally ready to roll. And now I’m the Oscar Madison!

         We roll our of town and I don’t even want breakfast, as I just want to make up some time and get a jump on the day since it’s was forecast to be  a hot one. Today, we have a light headwind, and maintaining 14 mph is the goal. Our goal was to make the Narrows and put in about 74 miles, a light day by the past week’s standards. With a 80 mile ride today we’d have gone 700 miles in one week, so a “mellow” day was in order, plus, I don’t know about Ryan, but my legs were just toast today – probably the hammer session I did yesterday into Dauphin to beat the storm.

         So we’re rolling along, and it’s just a fantastic day – cloudless, clear blue skies and temps in the 70’s. And the legs aren’t there but what the hell, it’s wonderful our, I’m riding every day, and this is a fantastic landscape to ride through. So we get about 1:15 hrs in, and we pass this little church that’s been converted into a coffee house/ice cream parlor. And it’s just too perfect to pass up……plus I’m just our of my realm with no breakfast in me. So we do a U turn and head for The Heavenly Scoop. Pure ecstasy! This little gem out in the brush of Manitoba was so wonderful. We pull in and the owner comes out and asks if we would mind her taking a picture of us – are you kidding, as disheveled and stinky as we are, we’d be proud to be in print! So she goes to get her camera while I get a dark roast coffee and 2 tea cakes – home made – and head out onto the patio for some sun and grub and get fuel. It felt just marvelous. I mean I even joked to Ryan that we should just stay in Ochre River and bag it right then and there.

         Well, the owner came back, and we exchanged picture opps, and then she told us about her quest to get this little business going. It was quite a stroke of many things falling into place – it was her dream and passion. I love when things like that come to fruition. So I’m munching on these tea cakes and they’re just out of this world, a mix of crushed nuts, fruit and SUGAR!! I ate two of these beautiful things and with the coffee I was feeling like a dragster ready for take-off. The owner’s husband pulled in, and they had to leave, so our conversations were cut a bit short, but it was so much fun listening to her tell us about all it took to buy this little church and turn it into a coffee house. I really hope the best for them, as it’s a great story of perseverance.

         Now we get rolling again, and the wind seems to be at our backs. But slowly, insidiously, the wind works it’s way into our face. And suddenly, after two days of flying like hell down the roads, we’re reduced to a mere 13.7-14 mph. And right about that time came the “Bulldogs,” those insane horse flies that follow you like a plague of bugs sent straight from hell. Now you thought I was crazy yesterday…….well, I went over the edge today. I am not exaggerating here, but the flies would be 50-100 thick surrounding us as we’re riding. Now you could go 12 mph or 21 mph. Doesn’t matter. They’re there every inch of the way.

         They were a massive swarm around us as we rode, me more than Ryan, and I don’t know if that’s my more pungent PU than him, but he was right, they surrounded me as if I were the last guy in the Battle of Little Bighorn. At times I was concerned that I’d inhale one of these nasties, as they’re about as big as a dime. So my kill game began again, and soon I had surpassed the measly 9 from yesterday. I would hit one on my front pannier and it would bounce down onto the road and Ryan would see it as you passed by the “kill zone”. Plenty of laughing from him as I was like the Bloody Red Baron up front whacking flies.

         Just around three hours in we stopped at a little gas station/store for cooking gas and some sodas. And the flies were on us like stink on you know what. We parked and there was this swarm around us, and coming into the gas station after us. We were greeted by to ladies, and we commented on the fly situation. The owner said that the “Bulldogs” had just come out, and they are really bad. They’re bites can send some people into a kind of allergic reaction, she said. She said that the damned things follow patrons into the store, and she pointed to the window which had tens of flies buzzing against the pane of glass.

         So we chatted for about 20 min while Ryan gassed up the fuel bottles and we guzzled a couple of cokes. They were amazed at our trip, and how far we had ridden thus far. And to us, we’re still a bit embarrassed that we have to say we’re going to Newfoundland. I think once we get through Ontario the reality of the goal will be much closer. Right now it seems a world away. We bid them farewell, and back at it, for the final 40K, into the wind, and with the Bulldog harpies. My kill count was a mere 20-something at the gas station, but this last stretch, they were surrounding me by the hundreds. I would look down at the road and see they’re shadows, and it would be tens and tens of these little black shadows following me. And then it happened – one of those buggers got me in the back……..real good. I swatted hard and smashed bug guys across my back. Ok, we’re 26 and 1!

         The road did these massive curves north and south, and despite the turns we always had a headwind. I mean we could turn 180-degrees in a long sweeping curve – and the wind was still in our faces. As the day grew hotter and flies got thicker, and thicker, and thicker. It was out the the movie “Birds” where the birds in a certain town go crazy. Well, same thing here, but it was horse flies. I had to laugh several times at how insane this was, these massive swarms of flies just never letting up. So I got my WWII game going again, and my gosh, I was nailing them by the tens. With 15 miles to go to the Narrows, I was up to 40 kills, and I’m talking hitting them on my handlebar bag, my front panniers, my handlebars, you arms, my legs…..everywhere.

         Got to a point to where I was just done with the headwind, which was getting stiffer by the minute, and those damned flies, which were like a bloody cloud of locusts behind me. I put it down and kind of dropped Ryan. I looked back two times to see if he was in distance to where if I slowed just a bit he could get back on, but when I looked back, all I saw was this cloud of flies behind me. I mean it was a sickening sight to say the least. From then onward I did not look back, and I just put myself in the zone and worked on my kill count. Five K outside of the narrows I was at 46 kills. It was there that I began to talk to the cloud of harpies, pleading with them to land on my luggage so I might up my count to 50 for the five hours of riding with them – 10 kills/hour.

         And on the last stretch of road, a straitaway that went on for as far as the eye could see, the headwind was just relentless. I was in and out of the saddle for a half hour, just trying to maintain 14 mph. If the headwind would die for just a short lapse, the flies would be so thick in front of me that they’d be bouncing off of my face, my ears, and getting tangled in my hair. So the kill count just exploded. I was able to nail 6 more by the time I got to the Narrows. I stopped and waited for Ryan, and at the stop I nailed 6 more. Ryan rolled in and we joked about my kill count.

         We got a campsite, set up our tents, and went straight to Lac Manitoba to hit the water, and dag gone did it feel great. We went in with all our cycling garb on, just to get the wash done at the same time. This is a very beautiful area, with lake stretching to the north and south as far as the eye can see. The Narrows has a lodge, a campground, store, restaurant and the beach area. It was the perfect way to end a very crazy day. So we get out of the water and the damned flies just continue to swarm, and my count is going through the roof, up to 60, 65, then 70+ and I just don’t count anymore. Just sitting in a chair on the beach these things are like a hive of bees around you.

         A lady down the beach must have seen my compulsive slapping and whacking, as she came over and gave me a bottle of Off’s kid’s bug spray. Said it really worked against the bulldogs. So Ryan and I both put this stuff on. It worked in that the flies would just fly around you, but not land on you. So we were good for a while. Then we went into the pub and I had several well deserved beers – I think so – and some great food. So we’ll sit here and I’ll let Ryan take over, and then we’ll post this bulldog of a blog. Thanks everyone, and talk to you tomorrow………..Pete

 

Ryan Adds:

 

Pete Gladden is a mad man. What I witnessed today confirmed all my worst fears about Pete. That his mind has left him and gone to a galaxy far far away. With 50 miles to go I was listening to some Broken Social Scene on my Ipod. Beautiful scenery around us. Rolling hills and farms everywhere. Just scenic beyond belief….And Pete yelling at flies and screaming at them and flashing his kill count.

 

I now realize that Pete can’t stand it when anything albeit a person, computer, tent, or a horsefly gets the best of him. He will march the gates of hell with a water pistol just out of principle. Those little flies were zipping around his head for hours today. I swear it looked like an Old School Atari video game. They didn’t really bother me which I found all the more funny. How was it that a cloud of Flies hand engulfed my friend and left me untouched? You ever read the part on the Old Testament when The Israelites were in Egypt and the flies struck Pharoah and the Egyptians but they left the Israelites unscathed. It was kind of like that. Me safe. Pete surrounded by a cloud of unruly devilish horse flies. Well I was safe Pete dropped me with 20k to go. Then my biblical analogy blew up in my face and I had hell to pay for a while. I only killed a few, but I did see 2 of the fly into my spokes. Pure joy.

Anyways. More tomorrow.