On the Road Again, pt II

Biking back along the brewery's 2 km driveway, I reflected on my luck to have met the great owners. Soon my reflections were interrupted by two cows on the road.

They seemed pretty freaked out by my bike and jogged ahead of me for a bit until they ran away over a small meadow.

Turning the next corner I was suddenly faces with their friends. All 20 of them and all standing in front of the gate. The two I had chases promptly walked out of the woods and joined them.

After a minute or two of gentle reassurances and creative sign language, I managed to open a narrow path to the cattleguard and successfully escaped Cowtopia. Back onto the gravel to retrace my steps.

The 30 km back to the pavement was much nicer than the day before, fortified by a solid sleep and some non-dehydrated meals. I did take a few snack breaks but also just rode it nice and slow and enjoyed the scenery. I only had about 80 km based on rough map calculations to ride, aiming at a rec site on the northwest side of Francois Lake. 

After an hour and a half I reattained the pavement and promptly picked up an extra 5 km/hr or so. A sign warned me of heavy logging traffic for the next 40 km but being Sunday, I only passed about 6 or 7 vehicle the entire day. Soon a light tailwins caught me and my pace increased yet again. Everything was coming up Denny.

Around lunchtime the gravel returnes and I spent the next hour slowly climbing a nice, easy gradient up the ridge between Francois and Ootsa Lakes. As I cleared the summit, I could see a large stormcloud sweeping away east across Francois Lake, but it looked to be missing me completely. I even had a brief glimpse of some mountains to the west. Nice.

I was rewarded for my climbing at last and enjoyed a long, winding descent back to the lake, and a deceivingly short flat section before getting a reminder that BC road engineers take perverse delight in sending their roads over every possible hill. Short but steep and winding hills along with periodic showers were the theme for the last hour and a half of the day. At one point, what looked very like a cougar butt disappeares around a copse of aspen.

Just as I was beginning to wonder if I had missed the turnoff for my rec site, it appeared around the next corner. Showers were rolling in again so I quickly set up camp, and began cooking dinner in the cook shelter while polishing off a book.

I had the rec site all to myself and spent the rest of the night reading and pensively wandering around in my raincoat. The darkness rolled in by 7:45 pm and, exhausted by a few big days, fell asleep early.

The next day I woke up with the sunrise again, cooked a slow breakfast, packed up my poor, sopping wet tent and began peddaling by 8:30. 

Feeling quite frigid, I had to wear a hoodie, rain jacket and gloves. I had to wonder if I was just being a wuss, since there was no sign of frost and my breathe wasn't fogging. At my mid morning stop I found one bar of service, and checking the weather, realized it had been +1°C that morning. Probably one of the coldest mornings I will see for a while hopefully. The morning ended up being a lovely spin along the lake, with few hills and the sun coming out by 10 am. A few locals called out from their yards to make sure I was okay. I guess they don't get much in the way of bike touring traffic out here.

I made it back to the ferry landing by 11 am and scooted over two short hills back to Burns Lake by lunch time. I sent off a few quick messages to assure people I had not been eaten by cougars or creamed by a logging truck and then began humping my bike back up the steep road to Kager Lake. 

The rain had unfortunately made the road quite soupy, so I had to grind up in my easiest gear to make it through the mud, despite the slope being only 8 or 9%. Luckily my car was undisturbed and I gratefully changed into clean clothes and ate a chocolate bar while drying the tent in a nice ray of sun.

After catching my breathe for a half an hour, I popped into town with the car, demolished a hamburger, picked up some groceries and beer and returned to Kager Lake to celebrate the successful test tour.

Next up, south to the Okanagan. 

"oh, would like you like to use this road?"

Emotional moment after many kilometers of climbing. Note the giant raincloud.

Success!

On the Road Again, pt I

I just couldn't wait to get on the road again.

While the big plan for the fall vacation was to do an extended tour of the Okanagan, West Kootenays, and anywhere else with lingering warmth in BC, I hadn't done any real bicycle touring in two years and wanted to make sure all the gear and my body were ready.

I had planned a few possible tester runs and the one that stood out was a spin south of Burns Lake to a brewery about 100 km away over some gravel backroads, returning on more logging roads through remote country southeast of Fraser Lake. It would be a good distance to complete in about 3 days and would verify my rig could handle extended gravel and some cooler mornings.

I had a leisurely morning at the rec site and carefully packed up the touring gear, trying to hit a balance of low weight and also not forgetting anything crucial. I chatted up a few locals regarding places to park my car and they all seemed to agree that the rec site was probably my best bet.

Parking the car in an empty campsite and crossing my fingers, I hopped on the loaded touring rig and headed down the road. About 100m later I was stopped by a woman who needed a picture of an "interesting stranger" for some sort of social media scavenger hunt. Boy if that doesn't describe me.

I then realized I wasn't wearing my helmet and had to retrace my pedal strokes back to the car for it.

Finally hitting the road, I headed south from Burns Lake. Several hills arose before me but I already had the touring balance in and traffic was light so I made it to the ferry at Francois Lake in good time and without incident. I timed it almost perfectly and just had time to eat a cheese bun before the ferry loaded and headed across the lake.

Heading south, I started grinding over a series of large hills (small mountains?) into a headwind that became more and more spicy as the day went on. Well, at least my luck and route planning skills remain unchanged from two years ago...

By 3pm, I was still an hour from the brewery at least, knee deep into the gravel, and already 100m above the predicted elevation gain from Google Maps. In top of this it was hot, and I made the dummy mistake of not filling my water at the perfectly convenient boat launch on Ootsa Lake.

Another hour and a half of rolling gravel hills (sometimes hitting 15% gradient) finally saw me at the 2 km long driveway to Ursa Minor Brewing, where I scared off a small bear and headed down the driveway in search of beer. 

Finally rolling into the brewery, feeling like I had been beaten with a fairly big stick, I was greeted by the proprietors, who enthusiastically informed me that I was the first cyclist to ever visit them. I guess the 90 km/1200m of climbing on gravel roads is a bit of a discouragement for some.

I was the only one around so I could give them the full Denny monologue about my life while they told me about their brewing adventures. 

Eventually, they brought out a map of the local logging roads and after some consultation, I decided to change my course and go west around Francois Lake to return to Burns Lake. It would cut out a lot of hills and some sketchy remoteness and would also let me take shorter days without risking running out of snacks.

The owners also then made the very generous offer to let me camp on their lawn and have dinner with them. Being an old hand at bicycle touring I obviously accepted.

After shutting down the brewery for the night, ee chased another (or maybe the same) small bear away from the lawn, with the help of their dog, and I set up my tent for the night. 

I had a great dinner with them and their family and some wonderful post-dinner conversation before settling in for the night in the old trusty tent.

I woke up at 6:45 yet again and enjoyed the sunrise for 5 minutes until it started raining, then went back to sleep for an hour. By 7:45 the rain had stopped and I popped inside for coffee and eggs before walking out the the pigpen to watch the pigs get fed spent grain. I took my time packing up and filling water while saying goodbye to the adorable dogs and cat. I was sent on my way with a final treat, a bag of carrots, fresh from the garden. 

All in all, not a bad payoff for a long, hard ride. I clipped into my pedals and began heading back up the driveway.

Back at it with the old workhorse.

Loving the lawn decorations, right next door to a church of course.

All you need for a good spot is some goodwill and a good bear dog.

Peter Pan Syndrome

Well, for the last two years since the big tour I have grappled with various levels of responsibility.

In the midst of a somewhat stressful month of trying to figure out how to build a house, the COVID pandemic began to hit its stride in March and I realized that I wasn't really ready to grow up yet.

So, with my usual summer work in Alaska no longer allowed, and my house building plans on hold indefinitely, I began to brainstorm alternative ideas for the future.

Above all, the idea of spending another winter sitting in front of a computer screen was not all that appealing. So, I formulated a plan to escape the winter in the Yukon, aided by the travel bubble we have with BC. 

I spent the summer camping and sinking some money into my car while deliberating and planning but mostly contemplating various ways I could recapture the carefree touring life.

By the time autumn rolled around, I was dead set on escaping winter by whatever means available. After some last minute field work in the Beaver Creek region, I frantically packed up my car and bike and got my room as tidy as it has been for years. On Wednesday, September 16th, I took off south on indefinite vacation 

The plan: spend a month bike touring BC until winter caught up with me, then spend the winter on Vancouver Island, exploring or working as my mood dictated.

Leaving Whitehorse on day one was quite warm and sunny. I tried unsuccessfully to settle into a relaxed vacation mood but spent most of the drive worrying about possible car issues and debating whether I was making the right choice in leaving. I am still young and feel I should take rhe chance to enjoy my youth but I'm also not getting any younger and eventually I should start thinking about setting up a more secure life and maybe starting a family.

Anyways, as I wrestled with my own doubts, I turned onto Highway 37 and crossed into BC, saying goodbye to the Yukon and shortly after passing two older bicycle tourists heading north on a late-season tour. They both smiled and waved. I took it as a good sign.

All the small native communities were closed to visitors due to the pandemic but luckily there was gas at Dease Lake. I eventually decided to call it a night after about 800 km and eventually settled in a pullout somewhere between Iskut and Meziadin. I had been testing various methods of sleeping in my car all summer and was quite comfortable, tucked away from the highway behind some willows.

An early sunrise woke me at 6:45 and I cooked some quick breakfast before wiping the copious condensation off my windows.

I had descended into coastal climates the night before and began to see more green plants, tall spruce, amd hanging lichens.

I made good time in the morning and arrived in Terrace by lunch time. I settled in at the municipal campground and set up the bike to go drop a 6 pack of Yukon beer off with Murray and Sherry, who had generously offered me a place to camp, a shower, and several meals on the cross Canada tour. 

It was getting warm by that time and I tried to dress light but I was not prepared for +22°C after an unusually cold and rainy summer in the Yukon. The 6 pack acting as a boat anchor didn't help either and I was dripping sweat when I rolled into Murrays yard. Luckily he was around, working on the roof and we had a short chat and exchanged phone numbers before I headed back to the local brewery, a six pack lighter.

The next day, I purchased some donuts, tracked down some camping fuel with the advice of the local sporting goods store guy (apparently there is a shortage of camping fuel, as it is hard to ship it from the US right now) and headed east into the interior.

It was a good day for driving, just warm enough, and I actually enjoyed the drive and began to feel very road trippy.

I took a longer break in Smithers to get some snacks and visit the brewery, where I ran into a friend of my sisters, from the same high school I went to.

With a bike tour in my head in the Burns Lake area, I decided to stop there for the night and some parking lot research led me up a steep, gravel road to the Kager Lake rec site. Upon arrival, I quickly claimed a (free) site, as I noticed the area was popular with local mountain bikers, who were quickly arriving in droves for the weekend.

Feeling pretty spicy, I unloaded the bike and did a 'casual' ride, that ended up taking me on a max effort up to the radio towers on Boer Mountain. My pump at hammering out a strong effort soon faded when I realized the sun was going down and I had 500m of descending to do in twilight on a steep hill with rim brakes.

I survived the downhill though, getting back to my car just as it got dark. No time to cook so I scarfed some donuts and a 2 day old cheese bun before settling into the car for the night.

Loaded up for the road.

Success! Back in civilization.

Smoky beers in Smithers.

Cross Canada Round Up: Impressions and Advice

Well, one thing I keep telling people, and it's been true from the start, is that you can't really sum up a bicycle tour across Canada. You see, do, and experience so much that there's just no way to capture it all in words. Or maybe that's just where my writing ability meets its match. Regardless, I will try to summerize as much of my summer as possible, giving general impressions and thoughts regarding my trip and also offering advice and some zen quotes I came up with for anyone considering a similar trek.

First things first. Canada is fucking big. It is a huge country. To cycle across is a major undertaking. It took me 122 days (4 months) from start to finish, including travel days and rest days. However! It should be mentioned that I was not attempting to cross at all quickly. As you will likely know from reading the blog, I took many sidetrips (mostly to breweries) and also budgeted in a fair number of rest days in Western Canada. Not to mention, it took me almost 3 weeks just to get to Victoria, where most Cross Canada cyclists begin their trip. For the budget and time conscious cyclist, I would say that the trip can easily be done in less than 3 months, even allowing the occasional rest day or short detour.

Which brings us to our next point: fitness and preparation. You may be reading that time estimate and thinking, "but I am not the greatest cyclist" or, "I don't know if I can plan out a long trip that easily".
Well, let me tell you something that I learned on this trip.
You don't need to have any idea what you are doing to cycle across Canada. I will admit with a small amount of ego, that I am a fairly strong cyclist. However, this trip was my first experience bicycle touring. At the start of the trip I did not know if my bike was strong enough, or if I packed enough clothing, or even if I would be able to make it to Skagway (a day and a half from my starting point). Despite my experience bicycle racing, I could barely even pedal my loaded touring bike around my neighbourhood on day 1. But I loaded it up, filled my water bottles and hit the road. And you know what? I figured it all out along the way.
And that is one of the most important things I can say about long distance bicycle touring; you will figure things out as you go. Do not stress out too much about preparing for the trip, as it is impossible to plan out every eventuality and detail of a several month tour. Don't worry about your fitness level (unless you are morbidly obese or have a severe medical condition). Just get on your bicycle and go. You'll figure out your own way of bicycle touring.
I met the entire range of touring cyclists on this trip. I met children touring across Canada with their parents, I met 70 year old Grandpas touring (and they beat me to the other side...), I met people with decades of cycling experience and I met people who had barely ridden a bicycle before they left.
We all had our own methods. Some of us rode 120 km a day and some of us rode 60 km a day. Some of us paid for camping, and some of us wild camped every night.
Everyone has their own way of bicycle touring, but we all made it across Canada (I think). 

That being said though, I should mention that while cycling across Canada is doable for nearly everyone, it is by no means easy. As I'm sure you can tell from my blog posts, there are many things to complain about on a Cross Canada tour. 
At this point, I would like to bring up the two most hurtful lies you will hear from people when they find out you are a bicycle tourist:
1) "The wind blows west to east during the summer"
VERY WRONG. The wind blows wherever the hell it wants. Statistically, it blows a bit more often from the west. However, this is by no means a guarantee that you will have lots of tailwinds going west to east. After leaving Calgary, I estimate that I spent about 75 to 80% of my time on the bike going into a headwind. I did talk to some other Cross Canadians who had the opposite (mostly tailwinds), but be aware that the possibility exists that you will spend most of your trip in a headwind. Sometimes for days at a time. My longest stretch of continuous headwind was 11 days (more than 10% of days I spent cycling!). And to add insult to injury, I was constantly told by people I met that I was lucky to be cycling west to east, because the wind would always be at my back.
2) "(insert region) is totally flat"
Also wrong. Canada is not flat. There are hills EVERYWHERE. There are hills in Saskatchewan, there is at least a couple hills in Manitoba, and you better believe that there are a ton of hills in Ontario. If you desire to cycle across Canada, you will encounter many, many hills. There is no way to avoid them, although looking back I think that I went out of my way to do the hilliest routes possible at times. Locals will also try to advise you on upcoming vertical terrain features, but they are almost always misinformed. Sometimes this is good, as I had a few cases where someone warned me about a major bad hill coming up, only for me to spend the rest of the day wondering where the hill was until I set my tent up for the night and realized I went over it at some point without noticing.
Other times it is not so good. This is the essence of lie #2. Someone (or several someones) will tell you not to worry, that the next stretch of road to XX town is "totally flat". Only for you to discover an astounding number of hills, or spend 2 hours slowly climbing a 2% gradient. My best advice is to only trust the word of someone who has cycled your projected route before. Motorists have no clue about hills. Actually, it's better if you just get used to hills early and assume that there's a monster climb lurking around every corner. That way your surprises will be good ones.
Other sources of distress on a long distance bicycle tour:
Saddle sores. The unspoken plague of every cycle tourist. Most people don't like to openly talk about it, but there's really no way to avoid them on a long tour. Even with the best saddle and chamois, spending hours on the bike, in heat and humidity and rain will cause unfortunate chafing in some very sensitive parts of your body (your crotch). Even worse are the even more taboo affliction of constant sweat and sitting: hemmorhoids.
I was struck with both saddle sores and hemmorhoids at various parts of my voyage. The only thing I can say about managing them is to make sure you have a good saddle that fits your body, and pack some sort of ointment or lotion. Vaseline works alright but a specific hemmorhoid ointment will be worth it's weight in gold when the time comes. I did not bring chamois butter or any other cycling specifix ointment with me. I found that the combo of vaseline and preparation H was enough to keep me on the saddle.
For additional suffering references, I suggest reading the Cross Canada Grandpas blog on Crazy Guy on a Bike.

In terms of gear, I reiterate my point that you shouldn't stress out too too much. However, I will talk about some gear options that I feel are important or that worked out really well for me.
The most important thing on a bicycle tour is your bike. The most important thing to look for in a touring bike is this: can it hold enough stuff (via racks and panniers, handlebar/frame bags, or with a backpack) to get me where I want to go?
Aside from that, the rest is just details. As long as the bike can hold you and your gear without breaking down, you can theoretically tour on anything. I actually did my tour on a fairly light gravel racing bicycle, complete with carbon fork.
With that in mind, there are a few things that will make your tour much happier if included in your bike choice.
1) Bike fit: picking a bicycle that fits your body size is important. You can wiggle around handlebar and saddle adjustments to fit onto an unoptimal frame but it will be less efficient and comfortable. If you are unfamiliar with bicycle geometry and how it relates to your body, I would suggest talking to your local bike shop and possibly getting a bike fitting done before your trip to ensure maximum comfort. Be sure to mention that you will be doing long distance touring and want a fit aimed at comfort.
2) Gearing: on a long distance bicycle tour, more gears is almost always better. I ran a triple chainring up front with 9 gears in the back, for a total of 27 gearing options. I would recommend a minimum of 18 gearing options (2 in front, 9 in back). Anything less than this will mean you may run out of easy gears on climbs and may have to spend a lot of time pushing your  (heavy) bike up hills or that you will not have any big gears to get into on tailwind days or downhills, limiting yourself to low speeds. That being said, it is 100% possible to go across Canada on almost any gearing, even a single speed (please don't do this) but it is my opinion that your trip will be massively more enjoyable with a wide gear selection.
3) Tires: For most bicycles, your choice of tire will honestly be the most significant factor in your speed and comfort on a bicycle tour. Your frame choice will limit you on how wide of tires you can fit. Wider tires will have a lower pressure, and offer better shock absorption and slightly better traction, but will have more rolling resistance. I recommend an absolute minimum of 28mm wide tires, but highly advise you to go for something in the range of 32 to 40 mm if your frame allows. Anything less than 32mm will result in a very uncomfortable ride, especially with all the gear on your bike. I personally tried 37mm and 32mm on my trip and vastly preferred the 32s, as they were slightly faster and didn't deform as much when cornering.
Another factor to consider is tire toughness and tread. Using road racing tires with minimal tread will reduce your traction in wet and sandy road conditions. Using super knobbly offroad tires will make you slower on paved surfaces and will wear faster.
If you buy a touring specific tire, the tread will likely be an inbetween option and perform well in a range of road and weather conditions.
Touring specific tires should also be a bit more puncture and wear resistant. Most people will recommend you use Schwalbe Marathon Plus tires. These tires are somewhat expensive, but are super puncture proof when run at proper pressure, and can last over 10 000 km without wearing out. I talked to several cyclists running them who said they did not get a single flat all the way across Canada on Marathon Plus.
However, Marathon Plus have an insanely strong wire bead. This means that they can be VERY difficult to install onto your wheel rim in the event you do run over a nail. I personally ran Marathon Plus on my bike a few years ago, and after one or two flats, decided that it was not worth the effort required to get them on and off my wheels.
My suggested tire is the Continental Sport Tour. It is just as flat proof as the Schwalbe, but is much, much easier to install. I can easily seat the Contis with just my thumbs. They also come in a wide range of widths, and have an excellent tread pattern for shedding water and dealing with light to medium gravel and dirt. The downside to the Contis is that they have a shorter life expectancy than the Schwalbes. I found that I was wearing a set of tires out every 3500 km or so. I ended up using three sets of tires of my trip. However, this is not so bad, as the Conti Sport Tours only cost between 23 and 27$ a tire. Compared to the Schwalbes, which cost 50$ minimum per tire and the total cost is comparable. In my mind, the Contis are the superior choice for touring, as long as you will be passing through cities now and then to replace them.

In terms of non-bike gear, it's really up to personal preference. I would highly recommend bringing a good tent with a solid rainfly, that covers the entire tent. It will rain a lot on your cross Canada trip and after a long, wet day on the bike, crawling into a wet, smelly (wet things smell really bad) tent is the worst.
Luckily my tent was amazing, and I only had a few days of perpetual rainy weather that it began to get overwhelmed. Having a rain fly that forms a vestibule in from of the entrance is also nice, as you can store your gear in it overnight and potentially cook in it during inclement weather (make sure your vestibule is well vented and large enough first though!).
Speaking of cooking, I highly recommend bringing a small, single burner stove. I took one that just screwed into the top of a butane/propane canister. If you go thus route, carry a backup canister at all times, as you may run into trouble finding replacements in the prairies and some parts of rural Ontario/Maritimes.

Well, if I ever want to get this last post published, I think I'll wrap it up here with some quotes by yours truly that held true for the length of the tour:
"You will simultaneously despise Google Maps and wonder how you ever lived without it"
"You will never be disappointed to see a Tim Hortons on the horizon"
"There is always going to be another hill"
"Life is short, try as many new things as you can"

And finally, the most important quote:
"Don't worry. Bicycle touring is something you figure out as you go."

And that's it! (for now)
If any future bicycle tourists want to reach out to me with questions or input, or if you are someone I met along the way who wants to get in touch, you can email me at: umbohmer@gmail(.com)
Remove the brackets, obviously.
Happy Trails!

Cross Canada Round Up: Stats

Departure date: May 8th
End date: September 7th (arrival to YXY)
Total trip days: 122
Days spent on the bike: 96
Rest days: 20
Travel days (ferry, airplane; no cycling): 6
Total distance cycled: 10 800 km
Average km/day: 112.5 (not counting rest days)

Best tasting pastry: Chacun Son Pain; Beaupre, QC
Best All Around Bakery: Superior Home Bakery; Sault Ste. Marie, ON
Best Donuts: Country Corner Donuts; Regina, SK

Best tasting single beer: The American Wild Ale; Rebellion Brewing; Regina, SK
Best all around brewery: Rebellion Brewing; Regina, SK
Honorable mentions: Old Yale Brewing; Chilliwack, BC and Trans Canada Brewing; Winnipeg, MB

Best Paid Campground: Sunshine Valley RV Resort and Cabins; Sunshine Valley, BC (I was there for a customer appreciation weekend and my site was discounted)
Honourable mentions: Christina Pines Campground; Christina Lake, BC and Gagnon Beach; Cap-Pele, NB
Best free camping: Horseshoe Lake Recreation Site; Cranbrook, BC
Nicest riding: Highway 138 between Montreal and Quebec
Worst riding: Toss up between the Island Highway from Port McNeil to Woss or Highway 14 in rural Nova Scotia.

Best Bike Shop: Velorution; Sault Ste. Marie, ON

Worst Mosquitoes: Alameda, SK
Runner up: Summerside, PEI

Epilogue Pt I - The End of the Road

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.

Tires still wet from dipping

Good thing I was bumped up to an SUV

Just chillin' in Kananaskis

Back home, back on the bike

Finishing Strong

When I poked my head out of my tent at 7:30 am, the wind was already howling.
Oh well, I only had to go 25 km to the ferry for the first leg of the day, and what's another headwind after so many?
However, I would soon discover that not only did I misjudge the direction of the ferry landing relative to the wind, the shoulder for the last rip on the Trans Canada was smooth and wide. So I sailed down to the landing in good time, not feeling any of the exhaustion lurking below the surface.
I passed the ferry trip eating free cheese samples, charging my phone, and reading a newspaper. I know, boring, boring. But I've spent the last two weeks along the Gulf of St. Lawrence, so it's nothing new.
As we docked, I headed on deck to give Nova Scotia a strict first assessment.
Much more wooded than PEI, and yep. Sure enough there were some decent hills lurking menacingly in the background.
I let all the vehicles disembark before hopping back in the saddle and enjoying a highway totally free of traffic for about 10 km.
Continuing on to New Glasglow, I passed several lumber mills, filling the air with billowing smoke and the acrid, metallic tang of chemicals. Lovely.
Stopping in town for groceries, pints and a new book, I chatted with the bartender at Backstage Brewing for a bit before heading out for an "easy" ride another 25 km to a campground.
I probably should have checked the elevatiom profile.
As I left New Glasgow, the road began winding up. Waiting for the eventual downhill, I plodded on. The road kept going up.
And up.
And up.
For the entire 25 km I climbed over what is apparently the easternmost foot of the Appalachian Mountains. Wow! The more you know! Sure enough, the campground was smack at the top, and after so many long, tiring days and a small mountain, I was pooped.
I had expected a gas station or convenience store enroute and being wrong, I had to make do with only my instant rice dinner and pop tarts for snacking. Oh well, I still filled up and then had a chat with the guy who runs the park and campground. He offered me a small bottle of maple syrup produced on property and I graciously accepted. It will go well with my oatmeal for the last few days on the road. The day wasn't too bad even. I did manage to sew up my pants and lube my chain before calling it an early night.
I'm going to attempt a run to Lunenberg and back up to the Halifax Airport by Sunday morning, but if it doesn't work out, oh well. Only 3 more days on the bike and man am I looking forward to my soft bed and warm shower in the Yukon.
As I ran out of purification tabs the day before, I risked drinking the water right from the tap, despite a boil water recommendation. I like to live dangerously.
I didn't find my downhill for a while. The morning started with a ride along a hilltop ridge for an hour. Luckily the road was good and traffic nonexistant. I put on some tunes and had a nice ride.
Descending into the valley, it started to get less enjoyable. Remote woodlands gave way to small farms, rusted cars, and potholed roads. Truck traffic increased and the local populace emerged as mainly surly, overweight white dudes. It seems I charted a course through Rednecktopia.
As I went along, I passed through much of the same, with some rolling hills thrown in. The shoulder was nonexistant, food and water were hard to find, and garbage was everywhere. Garbage in the ditch, in people's yards, in the parking lots.
Nova Scotia is edging down below Northern Ontario on the Provincial Rating Scale.
I stopped at a small ballpark for lunch and tried to settle some last minute escape plans. I needed to find camping, as I discovered that the imminent Long Weekend meant that campsites were hard to come by, and I still needed to book a car rental.
After an hour of data usage and phone calls, I called it good enough and took off. Turning onto a "feeder highway", I assumed that traffic would be low and it would be a relaxing afternoon ride to some camping.
I was so very wrong.
The road was in bad shape, no shoulder, potholes, etc. And the traffic was abysmal. Drivers were doing minimum 20 km/hr over the speed limit, passing me with less than 2 ft space, often shouting or laying on the horn at my audacity to ride a bicycle within 5 km of them.
The transport trucks were the worst. Passing as close as possible, at 90 km/hr, ingnoring blind corners and hilltops. I began filming with my action camera just in case I needed evidence at at hit and run trial.
To make matters worse, the road wound over a series of hills, into a headwind. And then it started pouring rain.
Things were grim. But what could I do? I just turned my pedals, secured my wallet and phone in a pannier and toughed it out to camping.
When I rolled in, I negotiated a very costly site for the night (frickin long weekends...) and set up camp. I came close to a nervous breakdown when the wind blew my action camera off the charger and into a dense bush, making me think it had been stolen until I got down on all fours and conducted an extensive search.
Then my thigh cramped up as I couldn't believe, making me feel like someone hooked a car battery up to my quadriceps.
Eventually though, the cramp passed.
I made dinner and hung up my damp clothes and read my new book.
I slept the best sleep for weeks.
The next day I cooked breakfast and determined my stove fuel may only have enough oomph for one more meal.
Pie for breakfast Saturday? I think so.
I braved the rigours of Highway 14 again, but the traffic was much better. I made it into Windsor by 11 am, grabbing one last rice dinner from Sobeys before hitting up the local cafe and brewery. I have campsites booked for tonight and Saturday and booked a car online for Sunday. Things are starting to shuffle into place.
It only took a shott effort to get back up into the hills to the campground. I set up, killed a nearby pallet for wood, then cooked some curry rice over the fire before discovering some wild blackberries, reading and going to bed.
The next day I did my best to drain the dregs of gas from my last canister. No good though, still a dribble left. Oh well, it can heat some coffee tomorrow.
I had camping booked in Renfrew that night and was looking at a 35 km ride on bad roads or a 100 km ride on unknown roads.
Easy choice. It's my last full day on the bike (only biking to the airport Sunday to rent a car), so I must obviously do the 100 km of mystery.
A little unnerved by the number of geographical features ahead of me with "hill" or "mountain" in their name, I took off. Sure enough, a few short winds took me up the side of the local hill for 10 km straight. Google Maps informed me that it would be all downhill from my 11 am snack break, but as always, my heart was subsequently broken by a series of winding hills.
I dipped briefly down into Sackville before turning north again and hitting the first good cycling road I have yet found in Nova Scotia. No shoulder, except in parts, but traffic was good and the surface was smooth. I passed the first cyclists I have yet seen in Nova Scotia.
A quick stop in Enfield for an Irving lobster roll and then I hit up Sobeys.
Being my last night camping, I went in for a feast of watermelon, corn chips, pie and beer.
Whew, gonna need to start cutting firewood asap when I get home. The calories are starting to pile up.
I spent the last night polishing off a book, feasting, and double checking bookings for my return home.
Just a quick visit to Halifax, Calgary and then it's home.
Looking back over pictures of the trip, I am having trouble believing it's over. Surely there is another cloud to gaze at, another hill to struggle over, better coffee and beer and donuts somewhere down the road...
But all journeys must end. Time to return to the Yukon and try processing four months of incredible travel.
But first, Halifax!

Beer was decent, decor was a solid 10

Need this range for my future cabin/shack

I was told Irving's big stop was the place for lobster rolls. It was alright-ish.