Kind of a mixed bag for sleep my last tenting night in rural Nova Scotia.
I did eventually have a weirdly deep sleep with many vivid dreams and slept in until 8 am.
However, there were apparently long weekend fireworks at 10 pm. Not bad, stars were very bright so I poked my head out and contemplated the coincedence of having fireworks after my last full day of riding.
Then, I woke up to water the grass at 2:30 am and discovered that my neighbours were still awake, inebriated and getting very passionate about complaining about things.
After about 15 minutes laying awake, I got out of the tent and politely asked them to keep their voices down. Very diplomatic.
After my sleep-in, I made some coffee, drained the last fuel canister, and finished off the dinner pie. Then I took off for a short ride into the Halifax-Stanfield Airport. Turning onto the highway, I came right into a sturdy headwind.
Well, I started the trip into a headwind, and had headwind most of the way across so I guess it's just fate that I would have headwind the last day. All I needed was a big hill.
Sure enough, Nova Scotia obliged. The airport was apparently built on a fairly good hill and I spent the last 10 km going more or less uphill. Mostly gradual climbing but a punchy section of 10% lent some challenge to the morning.
Arriving at the airport I easily found Alamo Car Rental and the 8 deep lineup. All good though, got a bonus upgrade to an SUV and was off by 12:30. Zooming along the expressway, I felt super weird driving. It was wrong. But after getting slightly lost and falling back on bluetooth directions, I made it to the hostel.
I was quickly checked in and found a bike box shortly after. Chores done, I found myself with 36 hours to kill in Halifax.
I saddled up again for one last ride and took an unencumbered spin down to the waterfront to dip my tires. Then found some beer and donuts and headed back to the hostel.
I perused several options for dinner and settled on Maxwell's Plum, as they seemed to have cheap, decent pub food and a good beer selection.
It was a great place! They had a full breakfast on special for 7$ so I sprung for that and a few pints.
I dragged myself back to the hostel, spent some time reading and went to bed.
The next day I moved the rental car to a paid lot, as street parking was still enforced for Labour Day. I then set to work packing up my bike. It went smoother than expected. The bike shop provided a large box and even gave me some foam packing to protect my frame.
After wrestling with tight pedal threads, I eventually got it all stuffed away and took a break to plan my next move.
With nothing better to do, I wandered down into the city proper, dropping into cafes and scoping out potential dinner spots. Eventually growing tired of wandering, I returned to the hostel. After some more laying around (god I feel so lazy), I decided on Maxwell's Plum again and dropped some dollars on a hefty feast of beer and comfort food.
When I returned to the hostel once again, I found a few hostel guests and employees sitting outside. I sat down and spent the evening crushing beers, espresso and getting a bit carried away.
Woke up the final day with an incredible hangover. I mostly just lay around for a while before taking a hot shower and steeling myself for the long day ahead.
Once I got myself moving, I actually got packed up quicker than anticipated and I was driving back out to the airport by 10 am.
Making one last Irving stop to refuel the rental and purchase packing tape, I made the final touches to my baggage and bike box in the parking lot.
Post car-return I headed to the WestJet checkin, preparing myself emotionally and mentally for the oversize baggage fees. Following the directions of the attendant, I went through self checkin and paid the standard baggage fees before carting my gear over to oversize scanning.
Still waiting for the axe to drop I put my bags and box through the scanner and through the mysterious plastic flaps.
Waiting for a credit card machine to appear, I realized that I was done processing my baggage. No oversized fees.
Huh.
I handed off my bear spray to an attendant for disposal, as it can't fly without an approved secure container, I quickly put some distance between myself and the checkin desk before someone tried to charge me more.
Passing easily through security, I purchases a magazine and waited around for a few hours before my 3 pm departure.
The flight was long, 6 hours to Calgary direct, but my hangover was improving and after spending 4 months riding a bicycle for 6 - 10 hours a day it passed quickly.
I had a two and a half day layover in Calgary before the last leg of the trip would take me home to the Yukon.
I was picked up at YYC by my hiking buddy from the June rest day, and after working out the complicated spatial geography of small car + big bike box we made it down to my aunt's place.
I spent a few days hiking and visitinf family, trying to reorder my brain out of bicycle touring mode. No good though, I still feel weird walking or driving any distance larger than a few hundred meters. I begin thinking about winter plans and possible employment, but it seems a world away. I'm still waiting to wake up in the tent again, smelly, tired, and sore. Ready to make the morning oatmeal and head off for a new destination. I am beginning to wonder if I will be able to adjust to life off two wheels. At least, my body is not ready to adjust. Despite my relatively sedentary few days since Halifax, I find that I still crave a bicycle tourists diet and I have to discipline myself not to eat 6 or 7 meals a day, or put away 6 donuts at a sitting.
Anyways, I pack up my things again Friday morning, preparing for the last leg of the journey, back to the Yukon by air.
The flight is short, and my mother is waiting to pick me up.
My bicycle and luggage all arrives safely (minus a bag of spare cables and my bike lights, oops). The season is just starting to turn, but it is obviously autumn, meaning that I have missed a Yukon summer for the first time in my life.
I spend a few days visiting family and trying to reintegrate to normal life. I keep riding my bicycle, obviously, and discover that I am quite a bit stronger than I was before the trip. All those brutal days I forced on myself showing some benefits perhaps.
It's still not the same though. I find myself randomly planning new trips or casting my thoughts back to sunny days crossing the wide open prairie, and humid nights watching thunderstorms from the comfort of warmshowers host apartments. While I definitely do not want to do the Cross Canada again anytime soon (never say never), I think I'm really starting to warm up to this bicycle touring thing.
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