Lazy Day

Ingonish, NS
Day off
First one up today was Ralph. He wanted to get moving before the heat and get back to his car, which he had left at Baddeck. Nice, friendly chap.
Pete and I struggled to our feet at about 7:30, both feeling petty limp after yesterday's exertions. Neither of us wanted to go back to last night's restaurant, so we rode over to the Keltic Lodge, a classy resort operated by the NS government. Nice dining room with an all-you-can-eat buffet; felt a bit out of place in my scruffy, oily biking garb and did notice that the polo-shirt set were viewing us with interest - from a distance.
So we set about eliminating the restaurant's daily profit margin. Actually, the cost of the buffet compared well with what we have been paing for double-down breakfasts in the roadside cafes.
A man from a nearby table came over and asked us where we were going today. we said we had to be in North Sydney tomorrow, and he looked amazed then rushed off to tell his wife. He asked the wrong question.
Went and sat in the comfortable chairs in the lobby and scammed some free wifi for half an hour. Pete suggested that we stick around in Ingonish for another day, and much to my relief, I agreed. temperature was already getting into the nineties, and we were both ready for a recovery day.
Sitting in the lobby, we were amused to hear a young man, apparently with the use of all his limbs, asking the bell-captain if the hotel had a shuttle to the parking lot. "Of course, sir... step this way".
When I got back to the campground, I met a young couple who were biking the Cabot trail in the opposite direction to us. I made a remark about the stiff climing ahead of them, and they said they did that yesterday. I realized that they were talking abou "big smokey" a ridge that we will be crossing tomorow, and nothing compared to French Mountain and North Mountain that we crossed in the last two days. They are in for a reality-check! You will never hear me criticize anyone who has the gumption to get out and ride these roads. But those who don't research or prepare even slightly for what they are getting into must surely enjoy the experience less because of it.
Now we had declared a day off, Pete decided to hang out at the beach, a beautiful crescent of golden sand that stretches right across the Ingonish Bay. I waited until the respectable hour of noon, then hit the Keltic lodge bar for a pint of the local brew. Got into conversation with Fran, a guy from Dublin who entertains at a pub a few miles down the road. We plan to hitchhike down there tonight and grab some fish and chips so we can hear him.
This afternoon I hiked along Middle Head, a narrow spur of land that juts into the Atlantic from Ingonish for about 4 km. Beatiful walk, with sheer granite cliffs on both sides tumbling down into the waves. Sat at the tip for an hour, watching the waves and the birds, and watched a pilot whale swim leisurely around the point.
Hiking back, I got a great chocolate milkshake at the lodge concession, then found Pete in the camp shelter, writing his journal. Quick ride into town for some brews, then I joined him. And that's the news as it happens, folks,
More tomorrow,
Barney
PS Petes blog: http://www.transcanada09.blogspot.com/