Across Canada

2006-07-07T16:01:00.000-04:00

Roblin to Dauphin Beach

(80 miles)

Well rested we wake ready for the day only for tragedy to strike. One of the tent poles breaks and has to be repaired with Duct Tape. As the pole carried I am now rather articulated and have to be careful about fine manuvering.

Dauphin Beach is preceded by a heavy tailwind that scoots us along nicely. The place has emptied after the weekend so we have our pick of spots and a quiet walk beneath the setting sun after dinner.

2006-07-07T15:57:00.000-04:00

Duck Mountain Provincial Park to Roblin

Day 30 (43 miles)

We take off in the morning and almost instantly cross the border into Manitoba. No headwind today and an enjoyable roll along well repaired roads into Roblin. It shold be 2pm and time for lunch but apparently the timezone changed and no-one told us. We sneak in last orders at the Austrian restaurant and then rush around town doing shopping and so on. Trep keeps falling asleep whilst guarding the bikes so we call it a day and make use of the $5 a night campsite with showers included.

Naturally it rains on us.

2006-07-07T15:49:00.000-04:00

Canora to Duck Mountian Provincial Park

Day 29 (47 miles)

We take it easy today following on from yesterday's gargantuan effort and head to Duck Moutain Provincial Park. On the way we stop in at the Doukhoubour National Heritage Village to learn of the history of the persecuted followers of Peter Veregin who's sect promoted toil and harmony.

Out of Kamsack the hill wore on us and to add insult to injury the attendant at the entry to the park tries to class two bicycles as two vehicles and charge us twice. I refuse on the grounds that two people in a car would only pay once. Reluctantly we are allowed to pass. At the entrance to the campsite we are informed we shouldn't be charged at all and refunded against the price of the campsite.

2006-07-07T15:40:00.000-04:00

Quill Lake to Canora

Day 28 (92 miles)

Back on track for distance despite deteriorating road conditions and headwinds. We stop first in Wadena, home town of olympic star Pamela Wallin, and become local celebrities when a journalist is summoned to interview us. I never imagined we would be news. We are also invited to the Ride for the Heart charity event on a 30 man bike. We turn up to take a look but head outshortly afterwards.

A small town gem is found in Kuroki. First there is the very large Ukranian Orthodox Church, then the mexican style fronted convenience store and finally the cafe and gallery where a gourmet lunch costs less than ten dollars each and would be worth five times that in any decent sized city. Not bad for a town named after a Japanese general from the Sino-Prussian wars.

Buchanan, the planned stop, is another grassy spot campground. We push for Canora and stop in the Hotel there. Worth the effort and money.

Small town feeding tour

2006-07-07T15:30:00.000-04:00

Humboldt to Quill Lake

Day 27 (43 miles)

Leaving Humboldt we pull into the small town of St. Peter for morning coffee. We arrive at the same time as the local gossip crew who are very intrigued by us. After a grilling we head back out again. The weather turns on us and after frequent stopping to combat exhaustion and eat at small town cafes we end up well short of our planned destination at Quill Lake.

The campground is a hedged bit of flat ground with running water. However, the health certificate has long since expired. We retreat to the local hotel/bar which hasn't seen visitors in a long time. We get a cheap but warm and dry night and in exchange for pulling it out of the garage we're allowed to cook on the patio furniture in the back yard.

In the bar we talk to a farmer and receive a discourse in remote Canada agricultural economic history. Not as dull as you might actually think.

Pass the Elk

2006-07-07T15:26:00.000-04:00

Colonsay to Humboldt

Day 26 (62 miles)

A little headwind as we trawl north and then pleasant weather heading east into Humboldt. Cows seem frightened of us but we're not after them. Today is our first taste of elk burgers. Reccomended to all carnivores.

Despite it's teutonic roots there isn't much to this town. The campground is flooded from the previous week's worth of rain and the mosquito population has exploded. Early to bed and early to get out.

Normal weather service

2006-07-07T15:21:00.000-04:00

Saskatoon to Colonsay

Day 25 (44 miles)

We hang about in Saskatoon in the morning looking for a replacement tire for me. My rear Continental Gatorskin has given up the ghost and been replaced by a folding racing slick. Alas the term 700/28 means little to the bike merchants here and I leave empty handed.

A gentle course through suburbia and then more faceless highway to the Painted Rock campsite which has been awarded the best washroom award by a couple in Kingston, Ontario. I'm more impressed by our first proper Land of the Living Skies sunset.

Berry hunting

2006-07-07T15:16:00.000-04:00

Battlefords to Saskatoon

Day 24 (94 miles)

We make the best of today. Leaving the Battlefords behind and push through the lesser headwinds to Saskatoon. I call my parents from the small town of Radisson and they tell me that the weather has been wonderful. This is one of those times when you just want to be anywhere but here.

We arrive at the campground to be greeted with sympathy and free coffee so not all is bad.

I hate the prairies

2006-07-07T15:11:00.000-04:00

Maidstone to Battlefords

Day 23 (62 miles)

Not much to today, not even lunch. Overcast, raining, nothing seems attractive here and I yearn for a return to the mountains. We couldn't find anything for lunch and were nearly out of granola bars and Snickers by the time we rolled into the Battlefords. A Shell station leads to overeating followed by feeling not too good.

I'm amazed at the distance we've made under the conditions but that's what you do when there is nothing else.

Maidstone, not Kent

2006-07-07T15:07:00.000-04:00

Lloydminster to Maidstone

Day 22 (39 miles)

Today's short journey takes us to the rather small town of Maidstone. Again we've battled headwinds and rain all day. In reward of our acheivements we stop at the Maidstone Hotel a dated but clean place that looks like it regularly houses road crews than roadweary travellers.

It's a different kind of day when the high point is spice cake at the local diner.

Border Town

2006-07-07T11:56:00.000-04:00

Vermillion to Lloydminster

Day 21 (44 miles)

It's a short hop to Lloydminster but every miles is paid for as the headwind howls out of the east. So many times we've heard of the prevailing westerlies, all lies I tell you. Maybe crossing into Saskatchewan will bring change.

In town we find the campground full but the manager takes pity on us and gives us a spot in the lee of a historical building.

A new wheel is found for Trep, the last one available it would seem but it seems good.

Rain, rain and more rain.

A little more red please

2006-07-07T11:45:00.000-04:00

Viking to Vermillion

Day 20 (63 miles)

A civilisation free day took us on more back roads through fields that switch between grain and oil wells, many of which seem empty now. The prairie headwind has begun and the low rolling hills offer little relief.

We unpack the lunch provided by Food With Flair in Viking we find that our $10 has gone a very long way. At one point I stop to fill a water bottle and as I come to catch up with Trep I see she is being attacked by a dog. Too far away to do anything before she gets clear unscathed I stop and unpack my cable lock. As the rottweiller tries the same trick on me I give it a sharp rap on the nose and it turns tail and runs for home.

I'm not happy to have to do such a thing but it seems necessary under the circumstances.

Camp Stove Thai Green Curry for dinner, highly recommended.

Due Norse

2006-07-07T11:36:00.000-04:00

Camrose to Viking

Day 19 (56 miles)

Camrose displays a little of it's Nordic heritage as we scout around for a replacement seat for Trep whose behind is suffering the miles a little. Alas nothing is available but the coffee is very good at Fiona's.

Just outside of town we pull away from the main road and travel in a nearly straight line towards Viking. A leaning barn and a herd of cows pose for a photo op and then just as we are about to turn north for the home stretch another spoke fails on Trep's read wheel. The wheel is holding but tempers are a little frayed.

Viking is a very friendly small town though and practice of locking bikes is met with humour. Dinner and a walk in the Viking Troll Garden finish the day.

2006-07-07T11:28:00.000-04:00

Lacombe to Camrose

Day 18 (96 miles)

The day starts reasonably well here but there is a strong headwind from the north that doesn't do much for our ride into Wetawaskin where the principle business seems to be pawning.

A short ride out of town finds us at the Coal Lake Provincial Park which turns out to have no running water and little shelter from the impending storm. We dig in and press on for Camrose on the premiss that we will stop at the first motel we see. At the top of the hill above the lake we get lashed by rain and get soaked until sun finally returns just outside of town. There were no motels. Fortunately the town campground is a good facility with a covered cooking area and good hot showers.

2006-07-07T11:20:00.000-04:00

Crimson Lake to Lacombe

Day 17 (72 miles)

We leave the campsite and pull directly into Rocky Mountain House where the roadside signs assure us that this is where adventure begins. I fail to concur on this point but I'm sure they have their reasons.

The roads are quiet but lack shoulders but heavy traffic is left behind when we pull off for Sylvan Lake. A fine coffee shop is discovered which is run by a fellow ex-pat and we discuss points of culture shock for a few minutes.

After Sylvan Lake we go through Bentley and get sight of our first proper grain elevator, a large, pristine white affair that makes everything around it feel very 20 years ago. A cycle lane takes us all the way out of town and into the adjoining provincial park for a quiet night and a beautiful sunset.

Crimson Lake, not red at all

2006-07-07T11:15:00.000-04:00

David Thompson Resort to Crimson Lake

Day 16 (89 miles)

The ordeal of cowboy poetry was momentarily abandoned in favour of a Cowboy Breakfast and then back on the road for a swift escape. The rolling road and tailwind takes us through Nordegg for lunch and then one last chance to wave farewell to the rocky mountains before pulling into Crimson Lake Provincial Park for the night.

Are opinion on the facilities provided is sought and answered with a long indictment of the lack of consideration for cycling tourists. You have to take these chances when you can really.

Parkways and Plains

2006-06-22T13:13:00.000-04:00

Lake Louise to David Thompson Resort

Day 15 (86 miles)

Leaving Lake Louise we join the Icefields Parkway where the inspectors tell us that cyclists go free today. Long slow climbing ensues and as the absence of much traffic in the very wilderness environment does nothing to calm my fear of bears. Even though they don't materialise, the shadows by the side of the road taunt my paranoia all the way to Peyto Lake.

Peyto Lake is place so beautiful as to be spiritual. Jaws drop on the observation deck by the coach load and pictures get snapped by the second.

Glaciers are admired all the way to Kootenay Plain where a good tailwind whips us along to the David Thompson Resort where we have to endure their first annual Cowboy Festival, including cowboy poetry. Bad timing happens to all of us I guess.

A Good Day Off

2006-06-22T13:07:00.000-04:00

Day 14 Lake Louise no miles.

OK, not actually no miles. We sleep in, laze around over breakfast and then ride up to Moraine Lake and Lake Louise. Chipmunks bound around us in seach of food and to entertain Japanese tourists by the coachload whilst we take in the wonderful blue of the glacial melt lakes.

Lake Louise resort is another architechtural monstrosity, which I guess is how Canada sees fit to mark places of great beauty. Nonetheless this is a place I intend to return to for hiking and exploring.

Kicking Horses and switchback trains.

2006-06-22T12:54:00.000-04:00

Golden to Lake Louise

Day 13 (62 miles)

Heaven is found again in the form of a combined bike shop/coffee shop. They repair the bike, we repair to the couch for breakfast. If you are even in this part of the world, look for Jita's, it really is worth it.

Torment is found again trying to get out of town. The hill is tough and we receive contemptous looks from the mountain goats who are distincly unimpressed with our progress. From here we hug the side of the mountains to road improvement works where we are allowed swift passage right to the front of the queue. Once the backlog clears we have a quiet road into Yoho Park where I finally get to observe a wild bear. We're on the side of the road, it is way down in the valley, a very comfortable distance indeed.

Field, the last town before Alberta is an oddity. Remote, picturesque with diverse architectural styles it sits peacefully away from the highway and you get the impression it doesn't like to be disturbed too much.

Climbing Kicking Horse Pass we stop to rest at the exhibition on switchback railway lines and spiral tunnels through the mountain that eased the passage of steam locomotives. The lake and plateau at the top take us gently into Alberta, finally a new province, and then the resort of Lake Louise.

Passes and tunnels

2006-06-22T12:42:00.000-04:00

Canyon Hot Spring to Golden

Day 12 (78 miles)

The day doesn't start well when Trep loses spoke number two barely a couple of miles out of the campsite. After much consideration we decide to carry on over Rogers Pass into Golden rather than return to Revelstoke in search of a bike shop.

Mercifully the climb is not as bad as touted although we heed the advice to avoid cycling through the tunnels (actually avalanche sheds) when trucks are coming. The decent is long and rapid, if a little scary.

Despite a few showers near the summit the weather is starting to treat us well and we roll into Golden beneath clear skies and beside a very bright blue river. I missed the young bear beside the road feasting on carrion. Despite being curious I decide not to go back because I still want the bear to miss me.

The evening is spent at a pub in the company of a Scottish software engineer who has also left job and home to roam the country on a bike, his has a motor though. Dog chases us on the return to the campsite.

Start climbing (again)

2006-06-22T12:23:00.000-04:00

Sicamous to Canyon Hot Springs

Day 12 (72 miles)

Wake up and barely before we have even contemplated breakfast it begins to rain. We pack up and head for the cover of the restaurant at the entrance to the camp where we endure the boorish taunting of one of the locals who says he'll follow in his truck whilst we get rained on. My tongue is bitten before ascerbic words can pass my lips.

There is nothing much in the way of back roads today but shortly out of town we find a string of small communities which are linked by a frontage road which runs parallel to he highway and keeps us from the spray of passing trucks.

Passing through the hills and climbing steadily we find ourselves at the architechtural monstrosity that is the Three Valley Gap Resort which serves the monied traveller with ghost town tours, helicopter rides and a wide range of glittery , chintzy trinkets to foist upon unfortunate relatives. All is not bad though, the coffee is well brewed and the pie is homemade.

In Revelstoke we are kindly informed by the tourist information that we have a killer hill to get out of town and then it's all easy climbing to Canyon Hot Springs. Some people have never ridden a fully laden bike anywhere.

The hot springs are enjoyed in the form of a warm swimming pool and a barely bareable hot tub beneath mountain peaks catching the sunset. Spectacular and relaxing, I vow to do this more often.

The flat before the tall.

2006-06-22T12:18:00.000-04:00

Oyama to Sicamous

Day 11 (70 miles)

Rolling up through the Central and North Okanagan we skirt lakes along backroads through the delights of places like Vernon and Armstrong. The mountains loom over us, growong bigger but the road stays mainly flat.

Rolling into town late we see no sign of the Sicamous Moose (sheer genius). However, from tourist leaflets we are able to determine that this is a person in a mouse costume with some felt antlers stuck on top (a little less sheer genius).

Enter the Okanagan

2006-06-22T12:08:00.000-04:00

Penticton to Oyama

Day 10 (69 miles)

A very northerly route today. We push up through Summerland, Peachland and Kelowna.

Coming out of Peachland, Trep suffers tragedy in the shape of a broken spoke. Good luck has it that there is a bike shop in the next town, about ten miles away and the wheel is still ridable. Once repaired we return to the important business of enjoying the South Okanagan's delightful scenery including a very long bike lane that leads out of Kelowna and almost to the next town.

Oyama is a quiet place which fills in the gap between two lakes. We survey the first campsite which is expensive and rather holiday campish. It's stuffed with RV's and hyperactive kids. After deliberating we go another kilometre north to the Owl's Nest where after dinner we sit on the dock and watch it rain on the other site. Barely a drop touches all night.

The heroines return.

2006-06-01T19:09:00.000-04:00

Keremeos to Penticton

Day 9 (39 miles)

Returning to Trepid Explorer's old hom town of Penticton we took the bypass out of Keremeos to avoid traffic and then along Green Mountain Road which is curvy and picturesque in places and another good alternative to the main highway.

This is where we encounter what is to be the first of many being chased by a dog moments. I am losing faith in the "man's best friend" label. Bring me cats.

Comfort and large amounts of food are provided courtesy of Ian and Wendy who are refreshingly british. I did have to counsel Trep on the wisdom of having friends who live at the top of a hill though.

Making descent time

2006-06-01T19:01:00.000-04:00

Manning Park to Keremeos

Day 8 (90 miles)

Sunnyish and calm is the way we make our descent out of the park. Just a little olimb takes us through Sunday Pass where Trepid Explorer lies to me that there are no more climbs before Princeton. There are in fact three.

After the third we finally spend much time making speedy descents amd wearing the brakes on the corners. After Princeton we take the old highway to Hedley, a far more scenic and wild route which meets with our approval. Pulling in early we decide to push for Keremeos. Big mistake, our ambition is punished with a downpour.

Pity is given by the campsite manager who upgrades us from wet tent to heated cabin on the promise of a postcard from Newfoundland and $10 extra dollars. Faith in humanity pulls slightly ahead of cynicism to end the day.

Hope to Hell

2006-06-01T18:50:00.000-04:00

Hope to Manning Park

Day 7 (46 miles)

The hardest bit of riding that I have ever encountered. Keen hurting and soul destroying through the rain to Hope Slide, the scene of a tragic landslide and two plane crashes.

Exhausted we finally encountered some down into Sunshine Valley, a rather reclusive buy in community that offered no refuge from the road. We pressed on and found a picnic area for our packed lunch (Subway again) before more climbing to the peak. Part way up the second climb I succumbed to the patches of sun and low blood sugar and crammed chocolate and pistachio nuts.

After the top rolling hills took us down to Manning Park Lodge where we were greated with the news that the only campground with showers was still closed for the season. Defeated we treated ourselves to a night in the lodge. Being the only the people in the pool, hot tub and sauna was a much appreciated method of recovery.

Lucky Number 7

2006-06-01T18:43:00.000-04:00

Fort Langley to Hope

Day 6 (71 miles)

We awoke to blueish skies which turned tail and ran before we could be on the road. At about which time the rain started again. Not so bad and certainly abating but still much use of the waterproofs at least as far as Mission.

I discover to my chagrin that pretty much all roads in Canada seem designed to retain as much surface water as possible to spray onto my feet and be splashed up by passing traffic.

We diverted by Nicomen Island, a protracted farming community that I can reccomend as an antidote to the occasional drudge of the main road. As we pulled off and pushed forwards the sunshine finally fought its way back to carry us along to Hope.

Hope is reputedly named by Dante enthusiasts as in "Abandon all...." I didn't find it so bad except for getting bitten by an apparently friendly dog at the campsite. Not much damage done and a free dinner so I'll leave it at that.

Bridge the the Fort

2006-06-01T18:35:00.000-04:00

North Vancouver to Fort Langley

Day 5 (40 miles)

A slow start to the day for a round of laundry and into yet more rain which abated briefly as we pulled out of Stanley Park and into central Vancouver for coffee. A brief discussion with some other Brits about the inadequacy of fish and chips and curry in North America ensued. At least we didn't complain about the weather.

Rain rolled on and off throughout the rest of the day as we rolled through notorious Hasting Street, Burnaby and onto the highway. When lunchtime came we contemplated Subway but decided to look for something better, afterall, there would be another one not too far away and indeed there was. Sheltered and fed we pressed through taking minor diversions from Highway 7 where possible. Trepid Explorer continuously promises me that there would be views of the mountains were it not for the clouds.

Finally we pulled off for the free ferry to Fort Langley and another dampish night.

More of the Up

2006-06-01T18:26:00.000-04:00

Port Alberni to Capilano (North Vancouver)

Day 4 (76 miles)

The day started out with the discovery that there were in fact two campgrounds in town. No great loss as the farewell from the residents of the hostel was quite heart warming.

Following this there was a knee breaking 5 mile climb out of town which took over an hour and many false summits. When I am ruler of the world supreme these will be swiftly done away with. The reward was a scenic but far steeper descent into the Cameron Lake forest with it's massive cedars and arching canopys.

Good weather followed us without too much headwind all the way to the coast and down along beautiful quiet roads almost all the way to Nanaimo. As we waited for the ferry back to the mainland the skies grew grey and dull. By the time we docked in Horseshoe Bay, we were in the mist of a downpour that lasted all the way along Marine Drive to the foot of Lions Gate Bridge and our campground.

At least the welcome from the owner was warm.

What goes up thankfully goes down.

2006-05-28T14:14:00.000-04:00

Ucluelet to Port Alberni

Day 3 (81 miles)

A taste of the rockies today, but not before first finding a place to dip our wheels in the Pacific for good luck. Not as easy as one might imagine. routes down to the beach in this town are not quite as evident due to the rocky nature of the coastline. 30 minutes of tooling in light mist about finally found a way down and the evidence can be seen on Trepid Explorer's blog site.

One false lost wallet panic later (mine) and we began the ascent into the hills. Things turned out to not be as bad as expected. The roads here are still somewhat deigned to cope with heavy truck traffic which can't cope with killer grades and on top of that the logging seemed to be shut down for the long weekend. In total we managed to see only 5 artics pass us and four of those happened while we were stopped to do other stuff like catch breath, take pictures and eat.

We were a victim of my own silly ambition and passed up the chance of camping at Sproat Lake. Bad information lead us to beleive that there were no campsites close to Port Alberni so we stayed at a hostel that was a bit more of a halfway house than a haven for backpackers. None the less the residents were pleasant, the sleep was good and comfy and the free breakfast was good if a little odd.

Dinner was found at La Dolce Vita and so far the best restaurant that we have stopped at so far. Mussels, very good.

The catch up will continue soon.

Mountain Fear

2006-05-24T00:22:00.000-04:00

Nanaimo to Ucluelet

Day two.

Recovery from jet lag took place on the Tofino Bus which runs on the sole road across Vancouver Island. Naping was broken by views of the scenery we would be riding through soon and long up hill hauls. There are indeed mountains here as well. Some trepidation sets in as a continuous stream of logging trucks and other articulated trucks run the other way. Not a good prospect.

Tofino is North American twee personified with smatterings of chintz thrown in for good measure. Lying at the top of the Pacific Rim Park is seems to be the last stop and magnet for aging beatniks and hippies fighting the surfer tourers for a bit of space to unload money before heading south ahead of the cold.

Our stay was only long enough to be quizzed on our destination by a surf bum Quebecer settling in for the summer before rolling south towards Ucluelet. The road through the Pacific Rim National Park gave me my first taste of an optical illusion that punctuates the next couple of days. Because of the close high trees and backdrop of mountains, flat and gentle uphills have the appearance of being downhill rolls and I am left wondering why it seems to take so much effort to get anywhere. We stopped momentarily by Long Beach to get a taste of ocean air and then into town.

Ucluelet is a curious little place, evidently once a busy fishing area now aiming to capitalise on quiet tourism and surfing as a source of income. On an evening walk we discovereda mas of empty lots for sale for pospective house builders and in a freshly developed area a collection of tennis courts and a free to use skate park that would put many pay ones to shame.

The imminence of dinner time and cooking found us searching for Methylated Spirits for our Trangias. Such a thing seems not to be heard of in this country and we made do with Fondue Fuel which worked rather well. First night under canvas, OK by me.

Airborne and westbound

2006-05-24T00:06:00.000-04:00

Toronto to Nanaimo

There may be a bit of a delay in delivery of reports due to lack of computer access on my handlebars so bear with me.

Day 1

Naturally my trip starts with rain, which on all other vacations has been followed by nothing genuinely bad happening. Note: I'm typing this nursing a dog bite, it's not severe but more about that later.

The flight was much as any other, but thanks go out to Westjet staff for pointing out the oversize baggage drop better suited to bikes than the closest one and the ground staff for delivering my pride and joy safely to Vancouver on the right flight.

On arrival at YVR I was greeted by my travelling companion, Trepid Explorer, who is more lovely in real life than in correspondence and is turning out to be both an enjoyable and very valuable travelling companion. She guided me out of the airport post bike rebiuld and introduced me to the amazing scenery of British Columbia. Warm sun against the backdrop of snow-capped mountains is how I would like to arrive at any destination ever.

Vancouver is amazing as far as cycling is concerned and I hope to find time to explore the city sometime. The major road leading out of the airport and over a freeway bridge off the island has full and spacious cycle lanes and the drivers, despite some reputations are some of the most bike friendly I have experienced in a big city. Time was only wasted on coffee before rolling through lush green Stanley Park into North Vancouver where a a long and winding Marine Drive took us past a Gleneagles Golf range and some veritable mansions to Horseshoe Bay. We made it just in the nick of time for the 6.15 sailing to Nanaimo. The decor and food was rather reminiscent of the England to France cross channel ferries that haven't quite made it out of the 80's. However, this was more than compensated for by the view of mountains everywhere. Jaw and eyes agape whilst in the back of my mind there niggles the thought that I will be crossing these soon.

The first nights accomodation was to be found in the reccomendable Nicol St. Hostel, comfy if a little compact.

Pre-flight checks

2006-05-17T21:07:00.000-04:00

Things have been a little busy of late, hence the lack of general updating here. However, I felt that it was probably obligatory to get in at least one more post before hitting the road.

Tomorrow I will be picked up by a cab and taken to Toronto Pearosn Airport (YYZ) to catch an 11.15 flight to Vancouver (YVR) where, I can now reveal, I will be meeting my travelling companion, none other than Trepid Explorer (see links in sidebar for details). For reasons I won't be going into at this time she, like I, has decided to abandon the nine to five and a permanent home to pursue adventure and exploration as far as cycling across Canada will allow.

From there we will be cycling to a harbour for a ferry to Nanaimo on Vancouver Island. After staying the night there we will be taking a bus to the far side of the island to the town of Tofino to begin our ride. This is the home of Kilometre 0 of the Trans Canada Highway (TCH) and where our journey east will begin by heading south to Ucelet and then back towards Nanaimo. This is about as much solid route planning that has been done for this trip and is probably for the best. I like the taste of uncertainty that I'll have from not knowing precisely where I'm going to be 10 days from now and not feeling tied to a definitive schedule that would prohibit making the kind of discoveries that will hopefully make this trip for me.

I'd just like to take a moment to thank the Novak family for putting me up and putting up with me since January, this trip would have been much harder to organise without their hospitality.

I now await the last load of laundry to dry so I can do the last bit of packing and then lie in bed biting my nails over all of the things that I have definitely done but the fear part of my brain insists I have not. Still, I'm not unused to this as I have regularly questioned the sanity and my ability to spend three months on the road in a tent. Naturally I'll keep you updated on how that works out.

Easter Weekend pt3 and other stuff.

2006-05-03T14:40:00.000-04:00

A bit of a hiatus. I won't be letting osting delays like this occur when I'm on the road.

On Easter Sunday I decided to take the short route home for ease. I was looking forward to a gentle ride back and a bit of peace in an empty house. True to form with me this plan did not pan out as intended. I ended up rediscovering my touring legs and turned over quite a pace on the way back. I also discovered a gazebo in need of assembly in the back yard so I go on with that as well. Since moving in with my very gracious hosts I seem to have become the appointed odd job man. It's not the least I could do but certainly the least I will do.

The following weekend I had signed myself up for a 200k ride with Randonneurs Ontario. The forecast had promised showers in the morning and clear in the afternoon. The reality was rain all day, a long slow ride and honking great cold that kept me off the bike for three days trying to avoid bronchitis. There really was little rewarding about the ride except a few wonderful views of the Niagara escarpment (dutifully climbed and decended a couple of times) occasionally shrouded in mist.

This weekend just gone, instead of heading out for a century because of feeling a bit weak from the cold, I headed out with the world famous Crazy Biker Chick, cyclist and knitter extraordinaire. I can recommend her company to anyone fortunate enough to be presented with the opportunity. We took a roll down the Martin Goodman trail, where the usual crowds were boosted by a Walk for Life, and up the Humber Trail, where idyllic ravines and meadowlands provide a peaceful relief from the sounds and smells of the city. We managed to get as far as the Humber Arboretum but not enough time to investigate it properly. Another place to make it onto my much neglected "visit one day" list.

Finally in cycling news, I decided on a diversion on the way home last night. Working my way down the Don Valley I started riding with this guy who turns out the have won at the Seoul 88 Paralympics. 18 years on and he still rides like a pro.

Easter Weekend pt2

2006-04-19T20:18:00.000-04:00

Saterday.

I woke up to a day diametrically opposed to the previous one. The sun was making a glorious sunrise, the wind restrained to the perfect refreshing breeze and a gentle warmth that promised a day well spent was to come.

At breakfast I trialed my camping coffee filter and was pleased by the results. Admittedly this was not the coffee of a swank metropolitain bistro but morning coffee being an absolute must I'm happy with my investment.

Hitting the road I continued west away from Oakville and along the lakeshore to Burlington where I sought out information on the Hamilton-Brantford Rail Trail. In the Tourist Information Office I was commended on chosing to be on a bike in the lovely weather as people in their cars just don't know what they're missing. I couldn't have agreed more, at least not without sounding a bit silly.

Furnished with a map I pressed on into Hamilton, a city whose reputation I now think exceeds it. My previous experiences of the city involved drving past it in order to get to the Niagara Falls. Your principle view from the motorway as you pass it is of a massive industrialised area pumping smoke and steam into the atmosphere. However, Hamilton, as I now know is home to a Royal Botannical Garden, a very reputable University and as pleasant an urbanised area as I have witnessed elsewhere in North America.

The Hamilton Brantford Rail Trail is a 40km stretch of disused rail with an interesting history of fragmented development, social and industrial usages and finally falling victim of rampant petrocentric economics. To the credit of the current owners it didn't rest long before being turned into a local centre for recreation from which sprouts a number of other walking and biking trails.

As you escape the suburbs of Hamilton heading east you become surrounded by a mix of marshy woodland and farmland that is reminiscent of the works of Lovecraft and Poe. Farms appear beak and foreboding and in the woodlands deciduous and pine fight for space along the trails edge as if eager to escape a terror and occasional ponds are occupied by bare and twisted stumps cautioning you not to stray too far from the path.

I took a few pictures with my digital camera now uploaded to a flickr account. I really like the way that the old railroad cross has been reworked for the trail.

Mindful of the time I turned at the halfway point in Jerseyville and headed back into Hamilton via the Chedokee trail for Lunch at the farmers market (big and very impressive). after that I picked my way through some slightly more dilapidated suburbs to reach another section of the Waterfront Trail. Edging Lake Ontario there is a thin strip of rocky beach and pathway that lead the nearly 12km through to Burlington. No doubt unbearable popular during summer but not too crowded on this day. There was a fair headwind going on and local knowledge informs me that one way or another you're going to get caught by it. Luckily for me it was on the first half of this crescent and made for easy passage on the latter part.

Back in Burlington I returned to camp the way I came for a hearty dinner and an early night. Much needed after 77 very enjoyable miles.

Easter Weekend pt1

2006-04-18T22:02:00.000-04:00

Friday

As if in sympathy of my loss, the rain came on Friday morning and stayed with me most of the day. In a sense it was welcome because it seemed to make the world quieter and the Waterfront Trail, repeated from The Oakville Run earlier from earlier this year, was more or less empty. As I rode through the Harbour area and along the Martin Goodman Trail I took the opportunity to think and reflect.

I was travelling fairly slowly as well, getting used to riding my bike loaded up with the full range of camping equipment. I think its one of those instances where the fear of falling is far greater than the fall itself. Luckily I never had to make the comparison.

My destination for camping was the Bronte Provincial Park, which lies just the other side of Oakville and was one of the few open camping places in Ontario and more or less the only one within reach of a days cycling from home.

At about 45 miles of riding I reached the Park at around 3pm. This worked out to be for the best because in my folly I hadn't even checked that my brand new tent had all of it's parts, let alone tried to put it up. All of the parts were present but putting it up was a more complicated by the apparent absence of any instructions. I decided to work from previous experience and went with putting the flysheet up first before hooking the inner body inside. The wrestling, I was later informed, was a comic site and an undue amount of time later when I though I could proclaim success, I started with the inner body of the tent, whereupon the instructions fell out only to advise me that the flysheet goes on second. More wrestling ensued and after much contemplation of heaving the damn thing into a dumpster and camping in a well appointed Holiday Inn Express nearby I finally pronounced a complete success.

The cooking side of camping was pleasingly more successful. Pasta in sauce was whipped up on the Trangia with an alarming degree of ease.

After dinner I was joined by two caravaners who had been entertained by my tent erecting antics earlier on. They were a little the worse for wear, something to do with a very large jug of margharittas earlier on, but enjoyable comapny nonetheless. They plied me with beer and we chatted about various touring tales and plans until I decided to turn in early. As we parted company I was drunkenly counselled to never answer anonymous letters. Sage advice.

Granny Rodgers

2006-04-18T21:32:00.000-04:00

At the start of this weekend I was deeply saddened by the news of the passing of my grandmother.

At the age of ninety and in frail condition the news was not much of a surprise, but this does little to cushion the blow of the loss of a loved relative and my last surviving grandparent. My feelings of grief are compounded by being unable to attend her funeral. Such is the price I pay for choosing to be this far away from my family.

I have a lot of good memories of my grandmother, a compassionate and caring person who I remember as being devoted to her family and tirelessly loving wife, mother, grandparent and even great grandparent.

From an early age I remember her being a part of our lives, playing with us and letting us run wild at the house near Brayford whilst she made her famous treacle pudding. I even have recollections of driving there from Bristol, past the igloo at the top of the hill and leaping out of the car to run down the lane into open arms. Visits there during the summer now seem archetypal, as if fresh from an Enid BLyton book, of which no shortage were read at that house.

Throughout the years, as I grew up and even to the present I always felt as if she had time for me along with everyone else around her. This was right up to my last visit to see her, late last year, where we talked about my varying positions in the Civil Service. She refered to David Blunkett in rather disparaging terms on which I heartily agreed.

As upset as I am to have now lost Granny Rodgers, I am grateful to have had the chance to know her and proud to be related. I hope that I can honour her memory well and emulate the qualities that I admired and respected in her.

My condolences go out to my family, with whom I will take the time to celebrate this life on my return.

Seasonal Adjusting

2006-04-10T12:06:00.000-04:00

There really needs to be a heck of a lot more spring going on around here. Last week there was snow on the ground and even yesterday I was leaving the house to -2 C temperatures. These are not the marks of a sprung spring.

Of course my demands are entirely unreasonable. There have only been two years in the past fifty where it hasn't snowed in April in Toronto and I guess there is small mercy that it has now done so with little chance of it happening again.

This morning the forecast 7 C ended up being a brisk 1 C so my hope of riding to work in shorts were dashed at first light. I'm not defeated yet though, in anticipation of the forecast 14 C materialising this afternoon I packed said shorts for the ride home. I was impressed with the Monday morning doubling of cycle commuters today, despite the chilly weather. I'm hoping the eight, instead of four, that I saw this morning will be a permanent fixture.

I think that I'm going to have to change my route to work. It's bad enough that my 13.5 miles is an uphill trawl into headwinds, but the stretch that runs up Bayview Avenue is wearing thin to say the least. This corridor seems cursed by a field of automotive arrogance and the four mile curbside section that I usually have to ride in makes an amazonian dirt track look like polished glass. Thankfully the recently printed 2006 Toronto Bike Map is revealing a few more options for me to consider and I'll probably spend the evenings this week trying out new routes.

I would like to take this opportunity to extend my hearty discombobulation to the Greater Toronto Area highways authorities for their previous chronic short-sightedness which, severely limited the number of opportunities for traversing the motorways that intersect this city. The 401 and the 404/Don Valley Parkway effectively divide this city into quadrants that any non-motorist will find difficult to escape. Roads that cross these motorways are invariably busy and fast and in the years since their implementation, no discernable remedial action has been taken to relieve cyclsits and pedestrians from the threat posed to them. I probably wouldn't be so irked if I didn't ahve to cross both to get to work but as I do, I feel entirely justified in my ire. Maybe I'll start harrassing local officials.

Nigh a Century Has Passed

2006-04-03T10:38:00.000-04:00

20 miles from my house to the start point and so, combining the two distances I managed to run up 96.5 miles. My longest ride is still the Dunwich Dynamo at 120 miles although this my not last much longer.

The weather was in something of a fickle mood, which didn't help matters a great deal, but thankfully didn't turn prohibitive. As we left Markham there was the occasional moment of drizzle but not enough to warrant raingear and with a very enjoyable tailwind the group managed to hit a good 20mph average, including one moment where I managed to just break the 60kmh (40mph) speed limit on the flat.
However, keeping up with the remarkably fit randonneurs was a mistake on my part and as soon as we turned into the wind my recklessness caught up with me as I slowed to a crawl and was dropped. Once again I was a victim of my own ambition. Thankfully I was able to see the error of my ways and fell into a far more relaxed pace. At about this time the rain decided to kick in, taking that fine drizzling form that managed to get everywhere.

Away from the main roads the gentle rolling hills are peaceful and welcoming, even in adverse conditions. There is something about the farming communities, with hints of differing european heritages that make you question city life and while I doubt I'll move there anytime soon I do love to visit.

The rain was kind enought to stop as I rolled into Port Perry for lunch and caught up with the other riders. I would caution the use of the Country Time cafe here if you are particularly hungry as the servers sem predisposed to ask an inordinately large number of questions about a simple soup and sandwich combo. Still, it was satisfying fare once it arrived.

I left the lunch stop on my own and was solo for the rest of the journey, which was a bit of a shame as I would have welcomed some company whilst tackling the prevailing headwinds, returning to Markham. I have to confess that my spirits were rather flagging as I pressed on and I did consider cutting out a small portion that headed more into the headwind and away from the finish point but managed to steel myself to take on the challenge. It's gratifying to know that I can be that stubborn as it's a quality that I imagine I may need to draw on this summer during the trip. I was also rewarded with a flat 10km, tailwind fed finishing stretch back into Markham from Stouffville.

I was planning on riding back from Markham and thus going over the 100 mile mark but when I was offered a lift home it would have been foolish arrogance to decline. I do realise that foolish arrogance has driven many a randonneur to go that bit further but I wasn't in the mood for it at the time.

It curries no favour.

2006-03-27T15:28:00.000-05:00

My decision to eat Thai on Friday will never rank among my most inspired. The green chicken curry, as tasty as it was, left me alternating between harsh gripping stomach pains and counting the tiles on the bathroom floor (82, verified and triple checked).

Suffice to say that Saterday's ride was not the epic extravaganza that I had planned for as I was unable to muster the energy for more than a sedate pootle along the waterfront. As an alternative I took a stroll around the galleries at 401 Richmond Street and sipped coffee while the weather tried to decide how much it wanted to rain. Time to ponder on the cause of my malaise and ponder the possibility of the world's first, cycle powered, camping microwave.

Sunday turned out to be the first spring like day of spring but any hopes of cycling were scuppered by a Canadian-Franco-Serbian family convening for a birthday celebration. I did manage a couple of hours, citing an excess of cabbage rolls and cup cakes that needed to be worked off. Could anyone imagine that I would not otherwise have gone out? I didn't think so.

Now that spring is begining to show it's colours I am blanket turning down any social engagements in favour of riding.

New Stuff and High Winds

2006-03-20T20:50:00.000-05:00

I seem to have been a little on the slack side for updating. Wholly unforgivable, I know.

Some of you out there, especially my parents who have been repeatedly vocal on the matter, will be pleased to know that I have purchased a helmet and have even worn it. The imeptus for buying one is not the afore mentioned pressuring, but as it's one of the requirements of the randonneuring rides I had to get one. There is some good fortune in this as it now transpires that the law in British Columbia requires bicycle riders to wear a helmet. Personally I'm at adds with such a requirement, however, I can't imagine that it would be in any sense a good omen for my journey to get arrested riding the streets of Vancouver on my first day. By then I may even have gotten used to wearing it full time and don it for the entirety of my journey.

Despite relegating my mountain bike to secondary status, I wasn't prepared to abandon it entirely and have chained it with my cable lock to the fence at my house. Two stolen bikes and countless anecdotal occurences in London have left with a complex that leaves me uncomfortable with my bike locked with only one lock. My relplacement obtained from the MEC is a rather sturdy chain lock from Planet Bike for a meagre $42. This lock is the weighty chain type that is occasionally seen on couriers worn belt or bandolier style. As well as that Planet Bike channels 25% of it's profits to cycling advocacy, a business idea that could be very well received in the UK.

This past weekend my riding was plagued by very high headwinds. My ride on Saturday was cut short in the interests of comfort and I didn't fare well on Sunday either. I had hoped to join Randonneurs Ontario on the first ride of the season for their Toronto chapter. Leaving the house with plenty of time to spare I had planned to take the subway to a place much closer to the start and ride the eight or so miles north. Unfortunately I had forgotten to check the opening times of the subway and found that it is in fact stuck in the dark ages and closed until 9am*. Not easily deterred I battled the 27 miles of uphill headwind to the town of Maple but it appears I arrived just a bit too late. Fortunately the starting point was a bakery and I eased my disheartenment a little with a very tasty cinnamon danish and a large coffee. The downhill tailwind back into the city was quite enjoyable too but I would still rather have made in but ten minutes earlier.

A new job start today up at Sheppard and Yonge where thankfully I have free underground parking for my bike. Hopefully the past three days headwind will abate when I ride out there for the first time tomorrow as this is in the exposed flat plain at the north of the city and Yonge Street is not only the longest street in the world but also a vertitable wind tunnel north of where it crosses the 401 highway.

* Those who lament the transport in London should try that which is offer in other places in the world.

The Oakville Run

2006-03-15T21:10:00.000-05:00

A week ago Saturday I decided that a good long ride on my new bike really was called for. Not knowing exactly were I was headed, I headed for the Beaches district of Toronto to take advantage of the unseasonably nice weather. From there it was only natural that I should head westbound along the lake shore, taking in the Harbourfront and Martin Goodman Trail at least as far as the Humber Bridges.

Most of this stretch of what I now know to be the Waterfront Trail is off road on well maintained and signed cycle paths. Signs will urge you be aware that winter maintenance just doesn't happen but with temperatures hitting a balmy 12C this becomes much less of a concern than might be normal for March. Typically these areas are havens for dog walkers, tourists, perambulists and the like making difficult the passage of any cyclists intent on anything above a mediocre crawl. However, as I seemed to be on the road at an hour unthinkable for your average Canadian or visiter then weaving amongst the joggers and occasional in-line skater was not at all taxing and for my prudence I was rewarded with quality views of the Redpath sugar refinery (complete with the odour of caramelised sulfer), the CN Tower, the Skydome*, the CNE, Ontario Place (a compelling 80s monstrosity) and not least of all The Humber Bridge, which is one of my favourite views in the city.

When I got to the bridge I was compelled to explore further along the Waterfront Trail towards Mississauga and so I followed the winding route it dipped in and out of residential and industrial areas, mostly hugging the lake through parks with the occasional stretch on Lakeshore Road. Much closer to Oakville you are even treated to the PetroCanada refinery which has that odd indutrial beauty that draws in aspiring photographers regardless of environmental leanings.

Finally you are dumped onto Lakeshore Road again, which actually leads from Toronto all the way to Niagara and due to being basically flat is a popular strip for club cyclists. The section leading into Oakville is undulating in a misleading fashion that confuses the uninitated as to whether you are going up or down and will leave you bemused as to what you think you are doing in that gear.

Before Spring kicks in there isn't much attraction in Oakville itself so I didn't tarry longer than a coffee and a sandwich and returned home the way I came via a maple syrup festival. Many city dwellers sneer with cynicism at this very country event but I find these little snippets of Canadiana beautiful in their simplicity and hope to enjoy many similar things on my journey.

*The Skydome is now officially called the Rogersdome after being bought by the massive Rogers Corporation. This is an affront to Toronto, language and just an affornt generally.

Oh Happy Days

2006-03-10T10:23:00.000-05:00

Warning, this post may contain geeky content.

Last night I went to pick up my brand new bike. It is, in my rather humble yet gleeful opinion, a thing of beauty.

The frame is a delightful near racing green and the matt silver fittings really do finish it off very nicely. I'm also rather delighted to get back to having drop handlebars after a two month hiatus.

I have both front and rear pannier racks along as well as mudguards, which are confusingly referred to as fenders here in North America. In my estimation they would be unlikely to fend off anything more severe than a lightly thrown peanut butter sandwich and certainly off no protection to either rider or bike in the event of a collision. However, they do a very nice job of guarding me from mud, water and other debris from the road surface.

The bike shop, Urbane Cyclist, were incredibly kind to me and in exchange for taking the display model off their hands they threw in two bottle cages, a free upgrade on the pedals to Shimano SPDs, light mounts, a water bottle and a free upgrade on the front chainrings. The original chainrings were, I think, 25-36-44 (numbers denote number of teeth) or thereabouts. The new ones are similar to a racing configuration at 30-44-52. In conjunction with the 8 speed 12-28 gearing at the back this should mean that I can go pretty fast and, when the gradient demands, fairly slow.

I also purchased my panniers yesterday, they are slightly cliched, but very good for touring, Ortliebs. Nice, waterproof, simple and, despite the continuous development and best efforts of more local suppliers here, has never been edged out of the North American market.

Whilst I was setting up my bags to fit the pannier rack I got talking to a couple of couriers who were in doing end of day repairs to damaged tires. They seemed quite impressed, if not a little amused, at the idea of a british guy cycling solo across their country. Once again I was reminded that I'll come across the occasional mountain or two along the way and that the prairies are really flat.

It rained on the ride from the bike shop to home, which really shouldn't be allowed to happen on the day I get a new bike, but still a tremendous joy.

A Busy Weekend

2006-03-06T11:05:00.000-05:00

First up my application to Randonneurs Ontario has been accepted. Randoneering seems to be the North American prefered term for Audax Riding. This is the crazy business of riding very long distances in one go, often with a view to participating in the rather superhuman Paris-Brest-Paris ride (PBP). PBP is a ride that is organised every four years with thousands of cyclists taking on the challenge of the 1200km route. I'm not sure if I'll be trying that one anytime soon but the long distance rides ahead that are planned by Randonneurs Ontario beginning on March 19th will make for good training for the trip.

On Saturday there was the Toronto International Bike Show, which was a reasonable event. It wasn't quite the spectacle that is it's London counterpart but there was certainly a wide range of things to take a look at. I have to admit that I did spend a fair amount of time looking atound and deliberating over the various touring bikes on display, some of which I could have purchased there and then. Whilst that was a tempting option I have ultimately decided to go for my original pick (linked to in an earlier post) because it's really good and I like the shop that I'll be buying it from, so much so that I have already ordered it.

On Saturday I also checked out the possibility of riding my bike out to the airport for the beginning of my trip. I was very please to discover that there is a cycle path that runs parallel with Eglinton Avenue almost all the way to the airport and the network of roads leading up to the perimiter are accessible. Unfortunately this is where things go awry. The roads in the airport run on a very complex one way system that is difficult to fathom at best and when the traffic is added it becomes a fairly hostile place for cyclists, particularly those destined for terminal three. This leaves me with two reasonable options. One is to ride to the perimiter and pack my bike on the pavement before taking the free shuttle bus to the terminal, the other is to take transit all the way and wait until Vancouver before the riding begins. I have a suspicion that it will be the latter, if only because the beginning of most vacations for me are marked by the presence of rain.

On Sunday I actually got into the airport, by use of public transport, and purchased my ticket. I am now booked on a flight for Vancouver on May 18th at 11.15am. I also purchased my sleeping bag from Mountain Equipment Co-op, a clever design that is think on one side and thin on the other so it can be used at more varying temperatures.

I pick up my bicycle tomorrow, hopefully, and after that all I'll need will be some good pannier bags and I'll be on my way.

Any suggestions for what I should do in the intervening two months?

Running the Rails

2006-03-03T13:29:00.000-05:00

A word on streetcar tracks.

Toronto's public transport system has an extensive network of streetcar routes to it's name. Hailed by the city in general as traditional and indicative of environmental concerns the streetcar, tram for the audience in the old country, basically untouchable so woe betide the civil servant who dare besmirch it's good name or suggest that an alternative might be better suited to the needs of the city.

Of course, if you should happen upon a streetcar stop on sharp winter morning to discover that the next one has broken down and no more will be coming until it's hauled out of the way sometime later, you might be forgiven for imagining that the city suffers from some amnesia given the cursing of the outdated junk.

However, for the cyclist, the effectiveness and viability of the streetcar is of little concern. The cause for concern as far as streetcars go is with the rails on which they ride. Streetcar tracks are a vicious nemesis to the unwary cyclist, as well one could imagine that tire-width grooves in the road surface would be. One momentary lapse in concentration near them will have them snatching and grabbing at your wheels in an effort to send you sprawling across the ground in high comedic fashion.

For those of you destined for a place where this menace exists then you should take a moment to get used to crossing them, particularly in a parallel fashion. Once you know your safe angle use it and double it if there is rain. If there is snow make a concerted effort to avoid them unless absolutely necessary. You would also be advised to stand up in your pedals whilst crossing them as they are rarely seated flush to the road, creating a rather unforgiving surface.

As a side note, be wary of riding alongside a streetcar where no bike lane exists. Drivers seem invariably of the opinion that there is adequate space between the curb and the streetcar for both your bicycle and their vehicle. Even the most dedicated gutter rider should get right out into the middle of the lane to ensure that it is quite clear that they cannot. Right at this moment any beeping of horns should be taken to mean that the driver thinks that you are doing the right and sensible thing. As you pull forward or drop back from the streetcar the driver will tend to think that they can squeeze past before you do. As they start doing this, drop back to the side of the road to give yourself room to breath.

Cooking & Flying

2006-03-01T14:42:00.000-05:00

Another new piece of equiptment to add to my growing kit. I now have a Trangia camping stove.

My mother will no doubt recoil at the memory of these things. When I was at school my brother and I used to take them with us in when training for the Ten Tors hiking expedition. The would consistently be in a terrible state with the dinner from the evening before welded on and occasionally left to corrode for weeks on end under the bed. Alas, neither of us could claim a teenage prediliction for cleanliness.

Fortunately, like much modern camping equipment, these stoves have changed to become lighter and generally better. The most noticeable improvement is that they are now non-stick, which will make cooking and cleaning a much easier affair than before. The trademake silvered body with bronze looking fuel burner remains, along with the webbing strap and little metal handle.

Whilst on the road I'm planning on keeping some of my costs down by doing some of my own cooking. Mostly this will be breakfast (I envisage a porrige diet here) and probably some easy to cook pasta dishes. The stove has two pots and a frying pan which means I can have some flexibility so maybe I'll start trying out a few recipies when spring starts.

In other news, the likely date for starting this trip is May 18th thanks to a seat sale by WestJet.

Status 2

2006-02-27T21:10:00.000-05:00

Status.

Looks like there may be a drastic change of plan coming up. It would seem that if I do the East-West journey it will cost me at least $200 more in airfaires than if I do West-East.

Therefore it'll be off to Vancouver first for me. I'm not amazingly happy about that as I had hoped to finish there and spend a bit of time hanging out on the west coast but it would seem that this is one of those things that is not in my favour.

At least the road goes both ways so there is no need to alter my planned route so far and the risk of snow in the rockies isn't high enough to be a showstopper.

Winter Riding, Toronto Style

2006-02-27T20:22:00.000-05:00

Cycling this winter has been something of an eye-opener for me. I had imagined riding down quiet, snowladen streets, enjoying a more scenic perspective, whilst my trust bike fitted with studded tires helped evade the snowballs of wilful but rosy-cheeked ragamuffins. Well, maybe not quite but something along those romantic lines.

The truth is rather a far cry from those notions. Cold is an event very much amplified on a bicycle and one should question the sanity of creating your own windchill.

The morning ritual now involves turning on the TV to channel 24 for a current weather view including current temperature, likely windchill and chance of rain/snow. This occurs before getting properly dressed as conditions very specifically dictate attire in Toronto's currently sub-zero environment.

2 > -2C = shoe covers, T-shirt fleece winter cycling jersey, fleece track bottoms windstop and fleece hat.
-2 > -5C = add scarf and change regular gloves to proper winter gloves (Altura Pilots serve well at all temperatures so far, change over to thick granny socks.
-5 > -10C = add second layer of fleece, wrap scarf properly around neck and chin, put on facemask.
-10 > -15C = add long johns and possibly another T-shirt.
Lower than -15C = wrap up warm in pedestrian clothing and take public transport, don't forget book.

This is a strict clothing regime, tinkered with at your peril, or more specifically mine. I also never leave the house without the ability to fully waterproof myself from the neck down. Another hard learnt lesson is that when it's raining, always tuck your waterproof gloves inside your coat sleeves as the waterproofing works in both directions. There are few things more disheartening than riding along with hands immersed in icy water through laziness.

Other things that I have learnt about riding in winter conditions are:

- bridges really do ice up before the rest of the road, particularly bridges over water and especially at the edges, where bicycles are more likely to be.
- if you go for studded tires (I have not this year) try it just on the front wheel first, this way you won't lose so much power.
- clean your cables shortly after getting home. Finding your prized bikes is reduced to a single speed with no brakes is not a good way to start the day. Also keep the chain well oiled.
- below -10C, your brakes don't work quite as snappily as you're used to. Travel slower , brake sooner and don't take the usual risks.
- if you do have to dismount to cross a patch of ice, don't let yourself put weight on the bike, it's still going to slip out from underneath you.
- virgin snow offers the best grip but is does mean that you might develop a build up if ice on your rims, right where the brakes should go.

Recently the weather conditions have prevailed to keep me from riding at the weekends. It has either snowed heavily, which would see me consigned to main roads to be splashed repeatedly with thick dirty slush. Or the temperatures have been far to low for any kind of sustaned riding. On another occasion I rode home from work in the middle of a harsh winter storm, the headwind twice grew so strong that I couldn't actually keep moving forwards. Thankfully the weather hasn't been as severe as it has in past years and I've at least been able to commute.

Spring is but around the corner and it will be back to riding every day.

Status 1

2006-02-21T15:05:00.000-05:00

Status.

Just a general note on my status to date.

In terms of route planning, I have purchased a series of provincial maps and plotted a course. More details of these will be posted here when I'm not wasting time at work and have my maps in front of me.

I have sought information from both Newfoundland and Quebec provincial tourist offices. Newfoundland advised me that the best source of local information would be through the provincial cycling club.

Quebec is a little more organised and after giving me a call the head of cycling has sent me some useful links. He was also full of useful information, such as, those forest routes through the middle of the province, not such a good idea. Apparently they're aren't so much nice back roads to take you peacefully away from civilisation as they are dirt tracks with smatterings of gravel, mainly for use by behemothic logging trucks. On the other hand, the provincial La Route Verte will carry me from New Brunswick and into the north of the province towards one of my destinations, Timmins. I am also assured that in many places the surface of the route is better than that of the road that it will run close to.

Over the past two weekends I have picked up my tent, from Mountain Equiptment Co-op, and my Thermarest sleeping mat, from Europe Bound.

Note to self: start adding links.

Opening Salvo

2006-02-17T02:09:00.000-05:00

During the summer of last year I decided definitively that I would like to cycle across Canada and planning is under way to do so this summer.

For those of you not quite up to speed, Canada is my country of birth and half of my nationality. As such, I'm sure that you can see why this would be an obvious choice for my first big cycle tour of what I currently hope will be many. However, I hope you'll understand if I reach journey's end and promptly hoist my ride into the Pacific Ocean cursing the very day I set eyes on it.

Since anouncing this grand plan I have been accused of folly and madness. It seems that the idea of spending a couple of months riding 6-7000 miles across the second largest country in the world is not everyones cup of tea and I suppose, if pressed, I can see why. Even cyclists have questioned my judgement, often muttering something about the wind going the other way and riding up hill.

Nevertheless, my mind is made up and I will be journaling my plans and my progress here.

You are hereby invited and encouraged to comment and ask questions here.