I Love this Country

Breakfast time at Cap Pele

Confederation Bridge

Beautiful PEI

Charlottetown PEI Aug 12

Today, 118km, Total 1686km

I have realized in that in the last two and a half weeks, I have seen more of the real Canada than I did in the last forty years. The variety of cultures, landscapes and of course language really comes home when you see it at ground-level like this. There is so much more to this country than I realized.

We started out this morning following the coastal route along the shore of Northumberland Straight. The plan was to take an easy day, and we just pedalled easily into a moderate cross headwind, admiring the scenery. Eventually, we rounded a point, and we could see the arches of the Confederation bridge crossing the open water to the distant Prince Edward Island. As we got closer, our route joined the main Highway 11 to the bridge approach.

Bikes are not allowed on the bridge, so we had to wait for a special shuttle and load our bikes onto a trailer. The shuttle is a 12 seater bus, and we were accompanied by some families going across as pedestrians for the day.

At the north end of the bridge there is a complex of refreshment and souvenir stores. The first thing we noticed was the large number of Japanese tour groups making the pilgrimage to the shrine of Anne of Green Gables. This novel, set in rural PEI, has for some reason captured the imaginations of the Japanese and has become a major torist attraction.

We went into the tourist information office for help in planning our route across the island. After discussing the highway options, Pete mentioned that he had heard of a dedicated bike route system on the island. The clerk immediately produced a trail map - why he would not do this automatically when he sees a couple of bike tourists, I can't imagine. We could easily have missed this major resource.

The Confederation Trail system follows the line of an abandoned railway system that runs from end to end of the island. It is immacculately maintained, with a fine crushed gravel surface, a little slower than asphalt, but a great ride. The trail winds through beautiful pastoral scenery, prosperous farms with livestock, mixed crops and of course potatoes. Very reminiscent of the southern English countryside.

Although we had planned a short ride, it was easy to keep going. at about 5pm, we were getting hungry, and lo and behold we passed a trailside bakery in a village called Hunter River. The smell of fresh baking was like a magnet, and we refreshed ourselves and decided to press on to Charlottetown.

Just before the city, we met a young bike tourist, who told us that we could stay in the residence at University of PEI, right next to the trail as it entered the city. Perfect.

So how to end this perfect day? Pete had met a guy in Edmonton who recommended Gahan's pub, a microbrewery in the city, so we walked the 2 km downtown to check it out. Charlottetown is a very pretty city, and even on a weeknight there is a variety of free entertainment on the streets, with stages set up on the sidewalk for musical groups.

Gahans was a hit, great beer, great food, and we spent a couple of hours swapping stories with the locals. By the time we walked back to the residence, it was after midnight, but we decided that we would work on our blogs. Pete was more successful in this than me, as I was snoring before I hit the first keystroke, and he rescued my computer before it crashed to the ground from my knees.

So this morning I have caught up, and we are heading out for a breakfast sub.

Best wishes,

Barney

PS: Pete's blog at http://www.transcanada09.blogspot.com

Man of the century

The great navigator

Cap Pele, August 11

Today 168 km (including beer-run) Total 1568 km
OK here is where I toot my own trumpet. 100 miles in a day. Last time I did that was when I was 17, 46 years ago! That would have been when Norman Perrin and I rode from Ilford to Walton-on-the-Naze and back. And we weren't hauling camping gear then. There's life in the old dog yet.

Woke at 7am. Pete was sound asleep with his head under a pillow, so I guess I won. Come to think of it, I didn't hear a snore out of him all night, so I probably kept him awake.

I wandered down to the coffee shop for breakfast. It was full of politicians and business men there for a conference. Wearing suits and ties at 7:30. Made me feel all the more comfortable in my gym top and river pants. I tucked into my raft-man special with a side of porridge while they nibbled on their weight-watcher specials.

Back in the room, Pete had already nipped across the road for a footlong sub and coffee, so in a few minutes we were ready to roll.

We had discussed my plans for a century, and today Pete let me take the lead all day so that I wouldn't compromize my effort by drafting him. For the first 30km, we took the inland route 11, basically a series of long false flats through forested moose-pasture. Pretty boring, but we made good time doing 30-35 km/hr with a nice cross tailwind. When we reached the turn-off for Kouchibouguac National park we took it to get a change of scenery: more moose-pasture. There are probably some nice beaches there, but that was not on our radar.
However, we finally found our way down to the scenic coastal route trough Ricibuctou and Bouctouche, and this was truly spectacular, miles of desrted seashore road, good wind at our back, what biking is all about.
Coming into Boctouche, we both got the jones for some chocolate eclairs. Talking about it didn't help so we asked a local. No bakeshop in town. But there is a Timmy's so we ordered a dozen donuts and a coke apiece and polished off the lot.
Ended up in Cap Pele, which was exactly at the 100 mile mark. Just to be on the safe side, I pedalled another 8 km to get beer4 and snacks while Pete got us a camp site.

Turns out that when I unroll the tops of my rear panniers, there's rom for a six-pack in each one, and you can stuff in a few bags of chips for good measure. Ortlieb think of everything.

From the campground, you can just make out the terrain of Prince Edward Island, 20 km waway across Northumberland Straight. Tomorrow we will cross the enormous Confederation bridge to the third province of my trip.

I'm typing in my tent using the campground wifi. a miracle of technology, but excrutiatingly uncomfortable,

so goodnight all,

Barney (centurion)

PS: Pete's blog at http://www.transcanada09.blogspot.com

Miramichi

Miramichi Centennial Bridge

Miramichi August 10
Today 110 km, Total 1410km
Woke up at 7am by something falling on the fly-sheet. Slipped a hand outside - nope, not pine-needles. "Pete?", "yeah". At 8:30, Pete suggested calling out for pizza delivery. Maybe not. Eventually, the growlies got me, so I dug out the rain-gear and heded into town. At the 6km mark, I noticed that Pizza Delight was open. Coincidence? Turns out it's a full-service restaurant. Grand-slam breakfast contains the "and" word just like in Quebec. Pete is right, a day off does nothing to abate the appetite.
Grabbed a breakfast sandwich for Pete and heaaded back to the campground. The middle-aged lady in the Subway store was asking me about the trip, and wanted to know if we were at Rocher Perce. She said she went there for her vacation last year, and it was so beatiful she burst into tears when she saw it. If you stood on achair at the back of subway on a clear day, you could see it with binoculars!

By the time I got back to the campground, the rain had abated and Pete had broken down his tent and packed hs gear, so I followed suit and we got on the road at noon.
The coastal road from Caraquet to Miramichi (pronounced miramashee) heads south and the southwest, so we gradually veered back into the same old headwind. The road is pretty flat,l ined with the same white houses on acreage lots, and frankly rather boring. We rode en echelon for the first hour or so (Barney getting a nice draft from Pete), but after a while I stopped to chane my glasses and Pete disappeard over the horizon. I didn't see him again for the rest of the day, so he must be getting his legs back. Although we hadn't planned to ride separately, I knew we would not have a problem linking up; Pete would wait for me at the first Subway in the destination city.
In fact, Pete arrived in Miramichi about an hour ahead of me, and after a few subs he headed back along the highway to meet me. I was pretty pleased with my ride: even after leaqving at noon, I completed the 110 km in about 5 hours. We agreed that it was a good move to get that leg out of the way today, this could mean that we will have time to do our planned side-trip to Cape Breton before Pete's girlfriend arrives in North Sydney with Ryan to meet us.
Miramichi is one of those towns thatseems to move away as you get closer. First you see tantalizing hints in the form of billboards for local businesses as you continue to ride through unspoiled rural areas. Then you see a sign marking city limits - still no change in the scenery. And you ride and ride and ride until suddenly, there you are in the usual strip mall wilderness.
We decided to cross over the river before looking for a place to stay. The Centennial bridge is a spectacular landmark from a dista nce but bike-friendly - not! The access is via a 2km loop of access roads, not a big deal in a car, but an eternity with a day's riding behind you. The sidewalk is a couple of feet wide, full of potholes, patches and ominous steel hatches secured by empty boltoles that bounce and rattle as you ride over them, wondering if yo will drop through to the river 200 feet below. A wobble could be disatsrous - a handlebar=high railing on the right and a 9 inch dfrop-off to the roadway on your left, with loaded semis roaring by inches from your shoulder. Makews Burrard Street Bridge look like a bike super-highway,
On the southside of the brige we turned off what had become a freeway into the old town of Chatham, where we found a nice-looking motel. The room rate started at 135, which was immediately reduced to 116 on the grounds that I am a government affiliate (I pay taxes). When we asked if there were any cheaper places around, we were offered the Senior's rate of $88. Age has its compensations.
Pete alreadey had his sub fix, so I headed for the Irish pub dow n the road. This area is a nicely restored heritage area in the shadow of the bridge. At the bar, I had a massive plate of barbecued ribs (not an Irish dish in my recollection), and i had a nice cat with Valerie on my cell-phone.
And that was the day,
Barney
PS: Pete's blog at http://www.transcanada09.blogspot.com/.

Finally, Pete finds a wheel that's strong enough!

Acadian village is a highlight. No-holds-barred authenticity.

5,000 miles and counting.

Caraquet, NB August 9

Today local riding, Total 1,300 km.

First off, for those of you who pay attention to these things, what we craved last night was a few beers, not bears! turns out we got neither, brewskis are not as accessible in New Brunswick as in Quebec. We found a decent seafood place, then Pete went home to crash while I stayed to see the Son-et-lumiere. This was a great production, with audio-visuals and pyrotechnics backing up live singing. Unfortunately my french didn't let me follow the plot in detail, but it was along the lines of girl meets rascal, girl loses rascal, girl's dad dies when blacksmith shop burns down. But I enjoyed it, then rode back to camp in the dark.

This morning, I slept until 7:30, first time since starting out. After a brief discussion between tents as to which of us was most proficient in keeping the other awake with nocturnal noises, we rode 4 km into town to get some breakfast and to explore the picturesque fishing harbour, with the boats decked in red white and blue bunting in honour of the festival.

On the way back to camp, Pete turned over 5,000 miles on his odometer since the start of the trip. Fantastic achievement, my friend!

I decided to spend the afternoon at Acadian Village, a local historical park. It was well worth the effort, I have seen a number of similar exhibits in different parts of the world, and none of them can equal the attention to detail and authenticity here. Every house and business has its inhabitants in period costume (even down to appropriate spectacles), no watches, jewellry or piercings. Blacksmiths, coopers, weavers, millers were all proficient in their crafts, and fluent in French and English. The park itself is in a beautiful setting, with a river (with covered bridge and mill-weir) and live farm animals. It is largely self sustaining, even the building materials are milled in the park's sawmill. Worth coming to New Brunswick just to see this.

When I got back, Pete had left a note that he was at (surprise!) the Subway. I noticed that my carefully pitched tent had developed a strange twist, with half the pegs pulled out. Turns out that some people had arrived next door and got their knickers in a knot because I was too close to the property line, so the camp manager had to be called to satisfy their territorial instincts. Get a life, folks.

It was a beautiful, restful and rewarding day, and my batteries are fully charged. Tomorrow we move on, although the forecast calls for light rain.

Don't forget to check Pete's blog www.transcanada09.blogspot.com

Barney

Into Acadia

Gateway to the Acadian Peninsula

Tourist info, Acadian Style. The Acadian flag is like a French flag with a gold star.

Caraquet, NB August 8
Today 115 km, Total 1,300 km.
Awoke early and hungry, so I didn't wait for Pete to finish packing but hit the road to search for grub. Mr. tailwind was still going strong which was just as well, as I rode 30km in an hour without seeing anything remotely like a restaurant. A very pleasant ride along the coast, not too hilly, road mostly lined with houses on acreages with not too much signe of commercial activity besides a couple of sawmills. Iwonder what they all do for a living.

Finally met a delivery truck driver and asked him about places to eat, and he told me about a family restaurant just down the road that was behind a bank - I would never have seen it. Just then, Pete rolled up, so we went in with raging appetites. Back to reality, NB menus use the "or" word instead of Qubec's "and" so you must choose only one of ham, sausage, bacon! We rectified this with a side of pancakes each, and My Lord, they had black pudding on the menu! Never saw this in a Canadian restaurant before, must be the Irish in the local population. I had to have it, but surprisingly Pete drew the line there.

The inner men satisfied, we carried on the remaining 20km to Bathurst. Now the decision point - cut across land to Miramichi (what a lovely name) or take the coastal route around the Acadian Peninsula. We had been told in Cambellton that an international Acadian festival is in progress, so we decided to take an extra day or so and a couple of hundred extra kilometers to see what was happening. The Acadians were the original French settlers in the region, and have a distinct culture. In the 1700s, many of them were expelled by the British and settled in Lousiana to become the "Cajuns". We are expecting to see some unique entertainment here, including tonight's son-et-lumiere, and will probably take a day off tomorrow (I have ridden 13 straight days now).

The ride from Bathurst to Caraquet followed the same attractive coastline, just a few rolling hills, and good old tailwind coming and going as we changed direction around the bays. However, about half way through I started to run out of steam and realized that I needed a sugar fix. Fortunately, just at the right time I passed a gas station and got two chocolate bars and a coke, which immediately gave me the boost I needed.

We found a good campsite with wifi a couple of km before Caraquet, set up camp and did our internet thing. All that's needed now is a few bears and some local cooking, which will soon be rectified.

More tomorrow, don't forget to look at Pete's blog www.transcanada09.blogspot.com

Best wishes, Barney

Another day... another province

The World's longest bridge - an hour passes while you cross (Quebec is on Eastern time, New Brunswick on Atlantic)
The making of... I can't take pictures like Pete does, but I can record him doing it.

Jacquet River, NB August 7

Today 75 km, Total 1,184 km.

Not an early start. We were both really bagged last night. The combination of consant headwind and repeated power climbs took its toll. Pete's last words - wake me up at 7:15. Actually that was unnecessary. I woke up at 7am, sat up in bed and started my morning regime of performance enhancers washed down with OJ, and heard Pete unzipping his tent.

Continued my routine of packing everything reachable (I keep my panniers in the vestibule of my tent for that purpose) then headeed for the shower. Wow, I'm not a pretty sight in the morning, face looks like it has been slept in (it has). Admired my developing farmer's tan in the mirror: forearms, legs and nose a deep mahogany, the rest of me a pallid white. Enough vanity, got in the shower and rehydrated the epidermis and felt pretty good.

Back at the camp, Pete had already packed his tent, maintaining a lively dialog with the raging gnat swarm, and headed off for breakfast.

I finished packing and followed him to the transport cafe on the highway. I'll have what he has - truckers breakfast customized with extra egg and double toast. Breakfast conversation centred on why it is that bloodsucking insects don't drive me crazy - seems to be a combination of genetics and the acquired skill of being able to ignore things that I can't control.

Headed out after 9, and by the time we crossed the bridge to Cambellton, NB it was already 11 - the boundary line for Atlantic time is along the Quebec-New Brunswick border. Oddly, we are now 300km east of Roch Perce, but the sun will rise an hour earlier.

I decided to resolve my dead camera situation. couldn't find anybody with the required technical skills, so I ended up getting a new point-and-shoot from Wall-mart - half the size, half the price and twice the sophistication of last year's model.

Everybody we met in Cambellton was friendly, helpful and fluent in English, even though NB is technically Francophone. However, we will miss Quebec, we really saw a wonderful side of Canada that is not visible from a distance.

Our route out of Cambellton takes us east again along the shoreline, with our old friend the west wind now at our rear. We could'nt believe how different the countryside is from the Quebec side of Bay De Chaleurs, which was still clearly visible on our left. The road is gently rolling, with just enough climbing to keep us interested - we were surprised to note that we climbed about 1,500 feet in a couple of hours, as we never seemed far from sea-level.

The excepton was in the town of Dalhousie, a run-down one industry town dominated by the Bowater pulp-mill. At the entrance to town there was a fork in the road with signs left to the coastal hwy 134 and right to the inland hwy 11. We followed the coastal route down a gentle grade through the main street which consited mostly of boarded-up businesses and storage tanks of hazaedous chemicals. Pete was the firts one to reach the end of the main drag, and made the right turn onto a horrendous HC climb that led back up to the same highwaqy we had just left. After drawing down hideous curses on the sign-writers, highway planners, maqyor and dog-catcher of Dalhousie, ther4e was nothing to do but crank the granny-gear and go for it.

Just as we were getting our breath, we passed a small road-side grocery. I waqs having a bit of a sugar-fit, and needed to replenish my emergency larder so I stopped and snagged a bag of cookies and a Pepsi. I also found a kind of honey-danish to keep me going. When I read the nutritional info on the package, I was interested to note that it was 54% fat, with a bunch of other on-PC ingredients that brought the total to around 200%. Go figure. It was delicious.

With the combination of the time-change and our late start, we decided to call it a day after 75km. We found a nice ocean-front camp-ground which met two of our three criteria: adjacent restaurant and adjacent beer-store, but no internet. Anyway, I will try to post this using Pete's aircard.

Good-night All,

Barney

Point-a-la-croix August 6

Today 115 km (or 125 if you count the beer-run), Total 1,109 km.

Check out Pete's blog www.transcanada09.blogspot.com 

We knew from the get-go that this would be a tough one. It was time to get Quebec behind us; itís been a wonderful 11 days since QC, but we wanted to make the crossing to New Brunswick today. For the third day in a row we awoke to a stiff westerly so nothing to do but grit our teeth and get on with it - after the usual mega-breakfast, of course. The usual Gaspesie special, this time with both French toast and tortiere in addition to the usual fry-up.  Just to be on the safe side I ordered the porridge appetizer as well. We had a few extra coffees just to postpone the inevitable, then we hit the road.

It was brutal.  On the flats, we were well down into climbing gears. Pete was having a bad day, which usually means that if I'm having a good day I can see him a couple of kilometers ahead of me.  Luckily for me, today he slowed his pace so that I could draft him for long stretches.  Drafting means that I can tuck into his wind-shadow, so I ride in a pocket of relatively still air.  This is an effective technique often used by racers, allowing you to save energy and ride faster than your unassisted speed.

Some time this morning I passed my 1,000 kilometer mark for the ride.

The road was a series of power climbs over the wooded bluffs separating the villages. To save time, we ignored most of the scenic detours shown in the Route Vert guidebook, and stuck to the coastal highway 132.  Our track was roughly parallel to the route we took last week - we passed about 100 miles south of Rimouski.

Our objective today was Point-a-la-croix, where tomorrow a bridge will take us across the inland tip of Chaleur Bay into Cambelton, New Brunswick. As the day passed, we could see the New Brunswick shoreline becoming more distinct, until we could clearly see buildings and the smokestacks of a large factory (pulp mill?) at Dalhousie.

By the end of the day we were both struggling; Pete in particular was getting hypoglycemic, as he had passed up his usual sugar-jolt at lunch time in favour of a lunch of beef jerky.

We finally rolled into Point-a-la-croix at about 4 pm and immediately hit a gas station store to load up on sugary drinks and chocolate chip cookies to give us the energy to make camp.  Point-a-la-croix has a single campground, which is pleasantly grassed and treed. Pet set to changing his rear tire, which had developed an alarming sidewall bulge, and I rode into town to find some beer.  Town is a bit of an exaggeration.  The business district seems to consist of an adult video store and a sex shop.  There were several "depanneurs", small grocery stores where you can usually find six-packs of the local micro-brews, but not in this burg! Each store is stacked floor to ceiling with 24-packs of beer, mostly watery brews like Coors and Budweiser - not what we need.  And you can't get a two-four into a bike pannier.  Conventional groceries were almost absent.  One of these places actually had a drive-through lane so that you can load your beverages into the car without the inconvenience of getting out.  I think part of the reason for this specialization is the proximity of the New Brunswick border, which probably has more restrictive licensing laws.  I eventually found a gas station that stocked O'Keefes IPA - better than nothing.

When I got back to camp, I found Pete yelling at his bike.  This is a phenomenon that Ryan has described, but it's the first time I have had a ringside seat.  Cracked a beer and sat down to take in the show.  As an encore, Pete blew out a valve while inflating the tire and had to start over.  Cries of "author!" from the audience.

Sorry I have no pictures today, my camera appears to have died.  I'll try to get it checked out tomorrow in Cambellton.

Goodnight to you all,

Barney