I finally went back to the Hostel and slept for 3 hours. I got up at 5:30am and all I could think about was Quinn. I walked 4 blocks to the bus station grabbing a Tim Hortons Coffee on the way. I spent the section from Toronto to Buffalo, NY working on a video for Quinn. I think she is gonna dig it. Well I am on my last section to Cleveland now. Gonna get home and eat. All I have had today since 5:30am is that Tim Hortons coffee. The bus was running late going to Buffalo so I had no time to make phone calls or eat. It will be 2:30pm when I get to Cleveland and I am gonna put the hurt on some food.
Pete it is a trip transitioning back into the real world Dude. It seems like everyone is in such a hurry. I have no idea where is everyone is going to quickly but they sure look focused. Hope you and Barney are good man. The climb from Gaspe to Perce looked evil yesterday. Can’t wait to hear about it.
8/5/09: Segements 76 and 77: Rt 132 west and the Route La Verte bike trail on the south shore of the Gaspe Peninsula
http://www.4thehealthofit.net/segment_htmls/Segment76.html
http://www.4thehealthofit.net/segment_htmls/Segment77.html Pabos, Quebec to Bonadventure, Quebec: 67 miles.
Check out Barney’s blog on http://www.nwpassage2.blogspot.com/
Man, partying with our motorcycle buds was fun as well as enlightening, but not what the doc ordered for riding all day in the hot sun and doing the first half of the day with power climbing, and a second broken spoke. More on all that later.
So as I said last night, we were in this little TV area in the campground and had some buds with our buds, and then Barney and I hung out even longer, once they hit they’re tents, trying to get our blogs done. By the time I was zipped up in my tent it was midnight, and it probably took me another hour to get to sleep – I had Budwiser heartburn going on. So when the light shown through my tent in the morning, I just pulled a towel over my eyes and tried to grab another hour. Ended up rousting at 7am, pretty late for our wak-up times here in Quebec. So I stumbled into the TV room first thing, checked emails, and then headed back to the tent to tear down. For some odd reason it was a particular dewy night last night, and my sleeping bag was damp, my thermarest was damp, and I even had water under all of my gear stowed inside the tent. It was like a freaking cool steam room in there, real clammy and damp. So I’m wiping crap off with my towel, and spending way too much time getting all of this stuff even moderately dry.
Then there was the inside of the tent fly, completely dew covered, outside completely dew covered. It was just a sodden mess. So I was drying my little Hellie off like a baby, getting all the vestibules, the inside and outside of fly. Have to take care of little Hellie! The motorcycle guys must have thought I was some kind of neurotic mess, for sure, just going around with my camp towel drying my freaking tent off like it should never see dampness? But really now, I have to stick up for myself here – put a damp tent away in a waterproof gearbag, and you put up a damp, sodden tent. Not my idea of having fun. Finally got all that squared away, as I was finally wearing the towel around my head like a Russian Babushka…….to keep the gnats from sucking out a pint of blood from the nape of my neck, behind my ears, and on my eyelids and forehead. These thing absolutely bloodied up Barney about 4 days ago, and I’m determined not to let these bastards play Dracula with me. So I wear protective head gear!
I had told Barney last night that I recollected that the rest of Rt 132 west was pretty flat, having done it in 07 in my van. So I at least, was ready for some easy riding today, especially with a headwind out there. We hit our dinner spot from last night for breakfast, and got the Big Kahuna – the usual with 2 eggs, 2 toast, bacon, sausage, ham, baked beans, pâte, and French toast and pancake and coffee. I can damned near go the whole day on something like this. Finish the feast and off on another day of cycling.
Now due to my late night with the boys, I was negligent in replacing that broken spoke. Ah…….I decided to shine it on until camp this even. I mean heck, I was able to ride 4 days with spokes nearly pulling right out of the rim. So off we went. First, to address my recollections of the road from my 07 road trip up here – ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Can you say …..Power climbing? Add to that, 3 hours of power climbing in a very stiff headwind. So much for vehicular recon. I don’t know about Barney, but I was pretty mad at myself, and a bit embarrassed about that gaff. We were going to try a century today if the wind was just right, what with my “Flat Road Forecast!” But after about 20 min of that we both knew that just getting in 100K was going to be a victory. So the stage was set for a very laborious day into the headwind and up and down these damned power climbs.
The scenery is quite beautiful, though not nearly as amazing as what we rode through up on the north shore. Here on the south shore the cliffs are considerably lower, and there is much more in the way of sandy beaches. Also, there is a lot more farming down here due to the lack of steep terrain. But we were still along the Atlantic most of the time, with some really cool scenes of small towns down along the shore, with marinas, churches and boats off in the distance. If we’d have had a tailwind and flats, I’m sure that I’d be giving you a report on another “million dollar ride.” But man the headwind just takes it out of you. We were averaging about 11.5 mph after a couple of hours. And even worse, as I began one of the many power climbs I heard that infamous sound – PING! Blew another spoke. Not just another spoke, but a spoke right next to the broken one from yesterday, so my wobble was now magnified. Good deal, now I have this taco to deal with as the temps are in the 80’s by noon and I’m dieing a slow death by heat and humidity. I’m using this little wash rag to wipe the sweat that’s continually streaming down my head as we’re doing our day of power climbing. It’s turning into a wet wash rag by 1 pm.
And I was sweating even more when I’d do a descent and feel this wheel just going spastic on me…….bump, bumping every revolution. This wheel thing is really my Achilles heel of the trip. I mean I have so much damned gear in that yak, especially since Ryan left, and he was our tool and parts hauler, and now it’s me. I’m right back to where I was before I gave Jerry 8-10 lbs of junk to take home. I might as well carve a bloody Flintsone wheel our of granite and see if that damned thing can survive a day with the trailer and me going out of the saddle on climbs. Every time I take that yak off I put on a hernia belt! It’s crazy. So anyway, with two adjacent spokes broke this wheel was just scary to look at. And Barney asked me if I wanted to stop and fix it, but we were up on one of the several hundred power climbs of the day, and out in the middle of nowhere. So I grumbled no, and just kept climbing. I though about trying to wait until camp tonight and deal with it then. But do a few descents on a abortion like that and you’ll quickly change your tune. I did, and decided to wait until we got to one of the many municiple day parks and change it there. Better to use a table, and have access to a bathroom to wipe all the dirt and grease off.
So I tried to hold on until we hit a town with one of the little parks. Hit one about 3 hours into the ride. Barney pulled out some beef jerky, which brought my frazzled nerves down a bit as I worked at getting the tire, tube, rim strip, rotor and broken spokes off of the wheel. It’s like a big operation just pulling the full yak off, tearing that apart to get the tools and gear, and then setting everything up on a pseudo table – my knees! So I munched a whole bag of jerky as I worked on this thing. Finally, after 1.25 hrs, I was done, dirty with black tire dust all over my hands, legs and arms, but done. Put it together, and still had a slight wobble in the tire, so I readjusted the new spokes, but no good. Too tight – slight wobble. Too loose – slight wobble. One more time – slight wobble. DONE! So I got cleaned up and we were gone, with me using this as our lunch stop, and late afternoon stop all rolled into one.
By this time the headwind had died down just a hint, but a noticeable hint, and we got on the Route Verte bike route for a change of pace from 132. It was almost all gravel, but it took us way out into the farm country, down along a river with kayakers and beach goers, and away from the hubbub of main road. Only problem was the loose gravel. On a bare mt bike this would be just like the Black Forest, but with loaded bikes, ouch. You could just feel the loaded front end of the bike wash out on some of the sections, and then the potholes, rocks and bumps made the sit bones ache like freshly enflamed hemorrhoids! We were way back on a maze of gravel roads, and if not for the Route Verte signs, I’d have been one lost puppy. The last stretch was over a hanging bridge, where below were a half dozen kayakers paddling down the river towards the ocean. Very cool.
We decided NOT to go further on the gravel Route Verte section, and instead go into the town of Bonadventure to find a campground. Went to an information center and found a place right on the ocean. Then off to IGA for a six of Quebec microbrew and some chips and salsa, courtesy of Barney. We went back to the campground, and this thing is massive. Biggest we’ve been in bar none. It’s the size of some of the campgrounds I’ve stayed in down in Myrtle Beach – HUGE. And there’s campers, tents, mobile homes, trailers, RV’s, pop-ups, strange egg-shaped things that spring into shelters, cars, trucks, vans. This place is a freaking village, a town un to itself. So we get our site, sit down at the picnic table, in the blazing sun because this isn’t even a twig in the whole 300 freaking acres to shed a shadow on an ant in this place, and pop our beers and eat our chips and salsa. Until it’s all gone. Only then do we put up our tents in the blazing sun.
So I get inside my Hellie, do my Felix routine by wiping the floor down before I enter, and then stow my gear inside. Then I try to change out of my salty, repulsive cycling shorts and get on a pair of shorts, but it’s so hot inside the tent I have sweat just streaming down my face, my chest, even my freaking butt crack. Just about ran out of there with my shorts half up. We showered and then hit this Cajun restaurant for dinner. It was great food, but the owner, or head waiter, whatever, was a total space cadet. Put us on the patio and then forgot about us, then put us inside, and couldn’t get us our bill before the clock struck midnight, then couldn’t remember what each of us had, then put everything on one bill, then had to reitemize it when we each paid credit card. ENOUGH ALREADY! I’m tired, I just want to go home to my Hellie and sleep for 7 hours.
Well, it’s 10:30, we’re in the registration bldg. doing the blogging and Barney cannot got his computer to go online. I’m ok with mine but had to tweek it earlier. Talk at you tomorrow……..Pete
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