Biker Bodie is too old to cross Canada
Friday, August 28, 2009
Safe Return Home With Sincere Thanks To All
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Laydown In Logan Lake
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Chicken In Nelson
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Back in BC
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Back to Cowtown
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Did that sign say Kandahar, Saskachewan???
Left Portage under grey skies. The Weather Channel advised humidity was at 89%. That’s a high number. One wondered if rain gear plus snorkel was required.
We geared up and pointed west through the gloom. The rain was light, but visibility poor. The straight flat road made for easy travel and within an hour or two the rain stopped and the roads were dry. Local traffic thinned out and we had the highway to ourselves.
I had suggested to Grant that we stop for lunch in Minnedosa, the town we enjoyed so much. They have an excellent restaurant there and I rode happily anticipating a bowl of hot, home made soup to ward off the chill.
Grant, in the lead drove past the restaurant, and headed off the highway into town stopping at the coffee shop we’d visited. It’s an old building with fourteen foot high ceilings covered with the old embossed tin panels. The counter and shelving are the original varnished oak. The mod cons are expresso machines and some leather couches.
We’d barely cleared the door when fellow seeing all our rain gear, yelled, “Have you guys been out snowmobiling?”
“Just about,” we laughed.
He was sitting at a table with three men in their sixties. One imagines it was a regularly scheduled meeting with the purpose of resolving important world issues. The caller was a string bean sort of fella sporting a John Deere green baseball hat worn high on his head. In gold embroidery were the words, “Veteran of the Korean War”.
He explained he was just released from hospital following knee surgery, but on a good day rode his Harley. He was 76 and full of curiosity about what we were up to and interrogated us fully. He went out and had a look at the trailer and came back with another barrage.
We joined the three at their table and enjoyed the wonderful company of these three intelligent, lively gentleman.
We learned more about the affect of the weather on local farmers. Crops in this part of Manitoba are a month behind and many fields required re-seeding after the constant rain rotted the first seeds.
Our 76 year old friend in the green hat still tours all over the Prairies with his bike. He’d been all over Vancouver Island and recounted lunch on the PA Quay watching the salmon run.
Seems Grant and my miscommunication was a happy mistake. So enjoyed meeting these gentlemen and seeing their lively age-defying spirit. Lunch at the coffee shop was a lattĂ© & cinnamon bun, not the healthiest of options. Also was able to use the “destiny” excuse to justify buying some jewellery I’d had my eye on first time around.
The after lunch ride became much wetter and more miserable. Find it best to ride with my visor up under rainy conditions. It’s the only way I can see the road and I’m hoping the rain will be good for my skin. The straight roads and sparse traffic were appreciated.
Rainfall increased as the afternoon wore on. The wet seeped down my neck, up my sleeves until I was wet through and chilled. My ability to “put on a good face”, “be a good sport about it” about riding in the rain have long gone. I was a grumpy sorry old woman when we pulled into the Howard Johnson in Yorkton.
Words cannot describe the deep simple pleasure of a hot bath, changing into dry clothes and sitting back with a paper cup of Sambuca, TV controller in hand.
That night we used the internet to check weather and picked the driest highway possible. Destination Saskatoon.
Our departure from Yorkton was a gloomy one. An expectant peek through the curtains confirmed the worst. The reality of putting on wet rain gear and slimy wet gloves takes the shine off a new day.
Again, this is the best place to be under these riding conditions. Traffic is light and the terrain flat enough to offer decent warning of approaching vehicles. The road was so straight, you could probably just tie off the handlebars with rope and sit back.
There is a certain beauty to the rainy landscape. Colours are deepened by the rain and the fields of canola surrounded by lines of dark green trees under grey skies would make a fine painting.
About two hundred kilometres from Saskatoon, the clouds broke up and the blue took over. I finally started to feel warm again. At a gas stop, we optimistically took off the wet rain gear.
It’s lovely country here. The canola fields are interspersed with blue fields of flax. Small lakes with waterfowl are everywhere. The broods of goslings are teenagers now and mum & dad stood tall and vigilant as their brood fed besides the roads. We could see them swimming in precise rows, everyone getting fat and strong for their Fall journey.
We were surprised to see signage pointing to the town of Kandahar. Learned later that it was named by Canadian Pacific Railway executives in the late 1800s for a British military victory in Kandahar, Afghanistan.
Saskatoon lay ahead under clear blue skies. Our stop there has a mission. Grant was concerned about the lack of tread on his rear tire causing him to slip abit in the rain. He had phoned ahead and found the tire he wanted in one store, and a shop nearby to do the install. This gave us a relaxed lunch break before we headed to the Information booth for advice about campsites.
Saskatoon is a vibrant city with lots going on. it was the weekend and all the campgrounds were all full so we joined the “overflow” crowd in a field adjacent to the Gordon Howe Campground in the heart of Saskatoon. The campground proper is just lovely and we learned that many families from the farms and small towns in southern Saskatchewan were in town for the Exhibition.
The “overflow” area of a campground is perhaps the North American version of a refugee camp. There are no trees for shade or to act as a reminder of nature. It’s very much cheek to jowl. There is a porta potty and a tap, but the sign warns the water isn’t potable.
We've met some very nice folks here and been subjected to some pretty abusive partiers down the way.
When Grant picked up his bike, the mechanic warned him that his rear brakes were quite worn. Grant had a pair of pads with his tool kit and after the tent was up, a tired and sweating guy set to work.
It didn't go well. The young mechanic had neglected to tighten a key bolt. The brake callipers rotated about the hub, denting the shock and pinching the brake line. It is very fortunate Grant is the kind of person who does not let things ride. This mechanical situation could have been disastrous. We intend to return to the shop on Monday morning for words.
Grant is off now washing the bikes. They look absolutely terribly dirty and bug splattered. The term is “Rat Bike”.
We hope to explore the river side parks in Saskatoon today and generally take it easy. We’ve put in a series of long rides in the rain and I for one need a gentle day.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
The flat bit in the middle
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
More Sambuca Please
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Random Tour Thoughts from an early riser.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Sambuca in White River
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The "Near North"
Well, I am having a FANTASTIC holiday!
We’re “primitive” camping again and were fortunate on the August long weekend to have found a spot right by the lake in a far corner of this very old camping ground. It’s so old the shower building is made from logs cut short and laid on their sides with the ends exposed. Cement surrounds the logs to hold it all together and everything’s a weathered grey.
It might be a day or two before we get access to internet again. We’ll have to backtrack on the blog abit.
We didn’t include much about our ride from the French campground up and over the GaspĂ© peninsula on our way to Quebec City. The sun was out and that revived our spirits.
The road surface was in terrible shape and required a rider’s full attention, but every now and then one could steal a glance at the surrounding countryside with some very old farmsteads. Villages were few and far between and all of them seemed to be named after saints. There must be a great many saints. Everything again, very lush and overgrown after all the rain. The towns are set in valleys and when the road followed the hillside, the white spires of the churches stood out against the green of the fields and surrounding stands of maple and pine.
We followed the road north until it met the Gulf of the St. Lawrence, so wide at this point we were unable to see the far shore. Feels good to finally turn west finally headed towards home. The highway follows the shoreline and it was a lovely ride.
Again, more Ste.’s. We stopped in Ste. Simon for lunch at the mouth of a secondary river on it’s way to join the mighty St. Lawrence. There was a house nearby that had been built in the 1700’s by a wealthy business man. There was a huge cross about 20’ high erected in the yard outside. It was wonderful to see the house occupied by what seemed like a young family, it’s yard strewn with toys and the family’s clothing hung outside to dry in the sunshine.
Ste. Simon provided some informational signage about it’s heritage and I was interested to learn that there was a huge cottage industry flourishing in the early 1900’s based around the harvest of sea moss. Huge sailing ships would come up from the states to collect the product which was used to stuff the seats of the early motor cars. A large mattress company also existed in the town that made use of the sea moss. The plant was devistated by disease and the industry died leaving behind many farmers who missed the extra income the harvest provided.
I have a few other memories about the French people. Some of them were stand-offish, but they may have shared my shyness about attempting conversation. Many were warm and friendly and made every attempt to be of assistance.
The French women truly are quite stylish, some managing to maintain an “air” whilst camping with a twist of a scarf or cleverly casual hairstyle.
Generally, very generally, speaking the French people seem more boisterous. They shout to one another and their conversational tone is louder than we’re used to in the west.
They often have a bottle of wine with lunch, even at picnic tables. Certainly wine or something stronger with supper. Perhaps that’s why we could hear singing around evening campfires.
Our wonderful day in Old Quebec was described in our last post. It is amazing to think the French had large and established businesses in eastern Canada during the 1700’s. In Old Quebec the many hotels of that era, built from stone, still function as hotels today.
Today’s city includes many museums and galleries including world-class work by Quebec craftspeople. They have a modern take of the traditional crafts of weaving and woodworking and we saw some wonderful innovative jewellery and paintings. It is an old and very rich culture.
One of the large museums offered the Bodyworks exhibit which uses human bodies set up in tableaux. Not for me.
It was a wonderful day I’ll always remember evidenced by the bandages on my feet.
In some ways we were looking forward to a return to Ontario where functioning in a strange place is easier without the language barrier.
We got an early start from the hotel and Grant did an amazing job of getting us through the rush hour maze of overpasses and interchanges within Old Quebec. Did I mention the French can be aggressive drivers?
We took the LaPorte Bridge over the St. Lawrence and headed for Ontari-ari-o.
Yesterday’s (Friday) ride was under partly cloudy skies. We followed Hwy.. #40 which enabled us to by-pass Montreal. I’ve often heard that Montreal is a cosmopolitan, exciting city, but cities aren’t so easy on a bike, especially with a trailer in tow. There’s no doubt any time spent there would be expensive so we decided to press on. Besides, I have no makeup and would stand out in an unbecoming way amongst the French women.
We followed the river, taking a small open ferry across to the south side and before long were in Ontario. The roads improved dramatically. The forecast called for a fair night, but we kept our eyes on the accumulating black clouds. Grant was adamant that he did not want to have to go through another rainy miserable night and wet pack up the next morning. He thought it best we stop in Hawesbury just shy of Ottawa and find a motel.
We soon learned that ottawa was hosting a world class piper’s competition and we had some difficulty finding a room.
We were fortunate. “Stephanie’s” turned out to be a wonderful motel with attached restaurant. We enjoyed meeting our neighbours, a young couple from Massachusetts travelling with their three month old son, then splurged on some drinks and a wonderful meal on an upstairs terrace. We had a great breakfast “on the house”,
Just to be fair, we also passed on Ottawa. The highway cuts through the heart of the city, but the eight lane system made it an easy passage. We tried to stay in a centre lane, but sometimes the two lanes to the right or to the left would split off. We stayed alert, but even so were forced into some sudden lane changes allowed by the gracious locals who must have seen our license plates and taken pity.
We have elected to break with our tradition of secondary highways and are staying with the Trans Canada. The travel is through rural countryside and very pretty and we can make excellent time. Some of our highway travel has been tedious and boring, but not so here. We’ve been treated to more green fields and the road itself is smooth and in good repair. Biking is much easier. We covered alot of distance today, but it was not tiring and I have been spared some of the fatigue, sore arm and back issues brought on at times travelling the rough roads during my unsuccessful attempt to dodge potholes.
Last night (Saturday) we rode good old Hwy.. 17. It feels like an old friend and I had to buy the obligatory T-shirt which I wore today. We drove through Arnprior and Carleton Place part of the “Easter Townships”.
We stopped at Stonecliffe at a campground on the Ottawa River. We’d found in the camping brochure and it sounded like it had all the bells and whistles. Silly us had forgotten it was the long weekend, their “busiest weekend of the year”. They were full, but pointed down the road. We were unable to get an unserviced lot, but it was absolutely beautiful.
That was where the beginning of this entry was written.
We had a refreshing swim in the river and a great supper, experimenting quite successfully with adding orange to our pork chops.
While the wet weather in the East has had it’s drawbacks, the upside is that campfires are still permitted. The irony is the wood is damp, but we managed to get a nice fire going.
As the sky darkened groups of campers passed by headed into the woods beside us. They were headed to the next bay for fireworks. We joined them and found about a hundred people gathered in the dark, oohhing and aaahing over the display. It was nothing like you’d see in English Bay during the International fireworks competition, but it was better in it’s way. Lovely to see the families gathered, the kids shouting out, everyone having fun in a simple way in a beautiful setting. Missed the kids tonight and wished they were here camping with us.
Seems Grant, Boy scout leader, was the only one from our campground who’d thought to bring a flashlight. A fairly large group of campers huddled together with Grant in the lead. There was lots of laughter and occasional shouts of “log”.
Well, now it is Sunday, Aug. 2. I got up before Jill and started coffee feeling so relieved that it had not rained overnight. There were some clouds in the sky but we were sure that we would be heading away from the threat of rain. As we finished our breakfast clouds started to move overhead and a few drops of rain fell. We made record time in getting everything packed and the tent stowed away. So we had an early start to the day.
With a great deal of luck we missed any falling rain and only encountered some wet roads. Hwy. 17 still treating us well. Our first stop to refuel was Mattawa. We met a couple from Ottawa heading west on a Gold Wing with a trailer with ‘Reborn Teenagers’ painted on the back. Their timing was a little worse than ours cause they had been in and out of rain.
At Tim Horton’s in North Bay a group of riders were suiting up for the worst. They were heading to Ottawa and were sure to be riding into it. Every stop had a similar flavor to it, ‘which way are you coming from?’, ‘did you get any rain’?
It does sound like the same old thing over again, does’t it? North Bay was the now or never point whether we take Hwy. 11, the northern route or stay on #17 and retrace much of the roads we came on. The truth of it is we enjoyed the views around Lake Superior so much we chose to see it again rather than mostly trees and rocks of the north. Camp spots are somewhat sparse on #11 too.
Temperatures were a bit cooler so we kept our liners under our jackets but we had mostly clear skies. The highway is good and there is a lot to enjoy looking at. Every now and then we would get a gorgeous view of Georgian Bay. We did a pretty good ride today, covering about 420 Km’s. For the last hour we are now on a part of the road that we have been on before. At our stop for fuel in Blind River we were told that rain was expected overnight and thunder showers tomorrow. So here we are at an Inn in Blind River. Next door to us is a couple from Niagara area. They are riding a Harley Deluxe and heading to visit their daughter in Edmonton. Dark clouds have kept moving around but still no rain yet. For the next couple of days we will be riding on the same roads that we came on. Much of this route is really nice and we can visit and stay in places we missed on our way out.