The short way home, Xcountry part 2

The anxiousness that I felt at the thought of the 10,000 more kilometers I needed to ride to get home, kept arising. Often it came in the form of excitement. Its funny, with all the discomfort and sometimes outright pain that this type of motorcycle travelling is causing me, I still am not tired of it. Most of it is a little boring and tedious, but when I start riding in a more sporty style, it all becomes worth it. The endorphins and adrenaline take all the pain away. Its a blast gliding into a tight corner, sharply leaning the bike over, then gradually adding power to accelerate out as the bike straightens up. Then repositioning my body to help the bike steer into the next corner. The better roads for thrills have sharp little hills that give a feeling of weightlessness as the wheels almost leave the road.

Brian got tickets for a boat cruise down the inlet. We figured it was a history guided tour. Whoops. That was the afternoon tour. We were on the booze cruise. Oh well, the beer tasted good and Brian did the commentary and gave me some local history about the fishing industry and canneries.

The highlight for my trip to Newfoundland was going for dirt bike rides with Brian. On Thursday we borrowed Don's KLR650 again, and we took off up into the hills near Corner Brook. We followed some rough trails through the sometimes barren landscape. It's obvious the weather here is rather harsh most of the year. The landscape at this slightly higher altitude reminds me of the Arctic tundra or alpine meadows at treeline. We did not go a bit higher where the table top is; where the mantle protrudes through the earth's crust. It is barren , appears to be just more or less a rock hump. It is a protected area , unique in the world.

The week hanging out with Brian and Silvie went by very quickly. I gave the little four cylinder bike another tune up. I didn't have a manometer, a pressure reading device that is used to synchronize all 4 carburetors, so I just used my ear and pulling off spark plug leads. It ran much better after this second try at tuning. The chain was getting worn but I hoped it would make it. The tires were about half worn so I figured they would make it also.

I made reservations in advance for Sunday noon departure for the mainland. The weather did not look good. The ferry was going to be late due to heavy rain and gale force winds. They were predicted to be heading up as I planned to be going down. It looked like my good luck with lack of rain was about to catch up. Brian offered to load my bike on his trailer and drive me the 2 hours south to the ferry. I declined. I had good rain gear and when I arrived I could warm up while waiting for the ferry departure. I kissed Silvie goodbye and Brian rode with me for a while. The storm fizzled out and I didn't see a drop of rain, however it was cloudy and rather chilly riding. It does not have to get very cold on an unfaired motorcycle to start feeling chilly riding. At 13 degrees c, I dress for, like, 20 below.

The ferry ride was great. It was the big boat, like a little cruise ship. I picked a stage front table with enough room for the half dozen bikers that met in the line. One guy was from Vancouver Island also. Another guy, quite a hunk, wearing stylin leather pants and jacket, had lots of stories, and couple on a Harley and another guy who kept to himself.

It was a little late by the time I got near my next wwoof host in Nova Scotia. It started to spit rain at me so I finally broke down and put my rain coat on. Not the pants too though. The host was just going to bed and she told me to stay in the little cabin 200 meters down the road. It started raining hard as I rode the 200 meters holding my jacket shut with my left hand. The cute little cabin was dry and still warm from the day's heat. My host had made a bed for me and there were coal oil lamps to light up the 4 tables that were set up for what looked like a tea party. Funny, up this dirt road, in this tiny cabin in a pasture. The mad hatters tea party ?

I was up earlier that my hosts so I wandered around taking pictures. I met my host doing chores and we had great conversations. She was a bereavement councilor. I didn't stay long. It's a long way home. She fed me porridge, with fresh goat yogurt . I washed the dishes, and headed off.

I resisted the urge to get on the freeway and make miles. Instead I chose the more fun, scenic, other side of the river, route. And I am so glad I did. It was another one of those hilly, twisty rides, sometimes rough but just enough to add some challenge. Later I got on the freeway to make up time. I didn't get far enough to get to the next host, the one who turned me down on my way east because I called with too short of notice. I was within the Fredericton boundary and finding a good, quiet isolated camp spot with the sun so low would be a challenge. Not with the iPhone ! I used maps and the gps to see where I was. Then I used google earth to find a spot by a creek down a little over grown road. Back to maps and plotted a course. Within 15 minutes, after scaring a moose of the trail, I was at the perfect little camp spot, talking to Judy on the phone.

New Brunswick mostly went by in a blur as I pushed the little bike to keep up with the faster cars on the 4 lane slab. The same for the highway to Quebec City. It was great knocking off so many miles in one day. I had seen enough of cities on this trip, not really that many, but what I have seen interests me in no way. All the cars and concrete makes them so unnatural and unappealing for me. I blasted straight through Quebec City and back onto the fantastic motorcycle roads north west of ST. Raymond, where I found a gorgeous spot to camp on what appeared to be part of the Trans Canada Trail. It's a lot easier making lots of miles by camping. I can ride sun up to sundown. Where as wwoofing is only really satisfying if one stick around for the morning to help with the farm work, and for hostels you need to stop near developed centres. I don't do hotels in North America.

I arrived at Celine's Wwoofing farm, you know, the one near St. Melanie, in late morning. I needed a break, she had a day off from her health care evaluation job, and I wanted to help her get some harvesting caught up. I'd helped her CSA (Community Supported Agriculture)partner in their gardens but had not done much for Celine on previous stop. So it was payback time. Besides going for a walk on her huge property with some foresters, I worked all afternoon .

It looked like I was going to hit rain again as I headed towards Ottawa the next morning. I Used my gps a lot to keep steering away from the menacing thunder heads and rain storms. I zigzagged north and s trying to keep heading west, up to nearly Mont Tremblant , half way down to Montreal then only a bit west of Mont Tremblant again. The roads were constantly getting wet in front of me but it never rained on me. Ottawa: I stopped at Mike's old house where we used to fix our motorcycles and VW bugs.
I looked at our home on Winninton Ave where we lived after coming back from Colombia. As I sped between rain showers on the Queensway, I took a picture of Bayshore, sort of a project where we lived as pre teens and teens. It was a fun high density place to live. The good ol Bell high friends. Mike, Jim, Mortz, Ron, Paul,

I spent a couple more nights with Mike. We took a motorcycle ride over to Ron's , and I again tuned my little bike and added a tiny bit of oil. I had to top up only about one litre total for the entire trip.

I was planning to visit with my nephew for dinner but the weather was great for riding and now there was a fire under my butt; I wanted to go home now! I had been away from my love Judy long enough. I also planned to visit with Kathy and Mom again in Orillia but it seemed like Kathy was away for the long weekend. Really I just wanted to get this ride done while the riding was good. It was hot in Ontario and Quebec but it was cooling off in the west and even some wet snow in the Rockies.
I left Mike's and again took side roads. Even the main secondary highways were plugged with long weekend traffic. I found some great little twisty highways that headed sort of in the direction that I wanted to go. One highway was blocked by construction. It was an hour to go around so I took a gamble and headed towards the blockage. A fellow in a small 4 wheel drive waved me down and told me a short cut that my bike might make. It was odd riding through woods on tractor trails and following truck tracks through hilly pastures. After about 5 kilometers I came out about 100 meters further up the highway past the construction. Fun. I hit the trans Canada and took off north and west at a high rate of speed trying to make up for the slow but fun roads of the morning. I did take the time to swim at a great beach on the north shore of the warm lake Superior. I camped on a reserve on the Canadian Shield amongst the scenic wet lands.
The satellite pictures showed heavy rains ahead at Thunder Bay. I took my time heading that way, then stopped at Marathon to have my rear end, of the bike, looked at. It was making a clicking noise that I was having trouble diagnosing. The small shop just finished doing a repair for a BMW motorcycle that had its rear wheel bearings break and do a fair bit of damage. The owner of the shop wanted to install new bearings. I was not convinced and he did not have any in stock. The mechanic said the chain was o/k. They put it back together as I planned to ride it to Thunder Bay to get it fixed.
I stayed in a great hostel just short of thunder bay. It was the home of the original Backpackers Hostel chain. Still only $20. I had enough time to go to the nearby river for a swim. It was a bit too late to swim in the lake. The next day I diagnosed the noise as the chain. The sprockets were good enough still that a new chain was good enough to get me home.

I made it to Winnipeg, a little late after sunset due to the chain repair in Thunder Bay. I had a great visit with my cousin Don , who I have not seen since I was about 8 and Don was about 13.

I screamed the little 250 for a while to cover a few miles fast but in the strong headwind my gas mileage dropped quite a bit. It looked like I would get to the hostel in Swift Current a little early, so I slowed down and did some fuel consumption tests. I held steady speeds and refueled every 40 to 60 clicks. Best was 72 miles per gallon (27 km/litre) at 90kph and the worst was 36mpg (13km/l) at 140kph. I tried to go slow the rest of the trip but I usually went with the flow to minimize car encounters. The fear of getting rear ended tends to push my speeds up.(I've got history with being rear ended)

So the hostel was actually an expensive bed and breakfast. It was depressing being in this strange city as it was about to get dark with no good wild places to camp nearby. Didn't want to camp any way because it looked like rain for sure. I ordered a large meal and talked to Judy on the phone. I tried a few commercial campgrounds that are in the city boundary. One had a covered picnic area that I could camp in. only 8 bucks. I finished my meal as big rain drops began to fall. It looked black and ominous outside. The wind was picking up. I wanted to get to the campground before it hit. I took off fast. No cars coming, round the corner...open 3 lane one way, no cars or people. I opened it up snapping through the gears heading straight towards the black cloud as bolts of lightening were striking dead ahead. That was where I need to go , then turn right to get to the campground. Oh my god i don't want to get caught in that , I thought. Then everything goes blue red, red blue. Shit, it was the cops. 85 in a 50 zone and blowing a stop sign. But I said "look at that" pointing at the cloud. " I was trying to beat that" as another bright whitish blue bolt stood in contrast to the black cloud behind it. After 5 minutes the cop came back and said "what do you want a ticket or a warning and a tongue lashing ?" I said "how about a warning and a big hug ?" Whew. And the rain just missed us. Lucky

Next night I spent with my old neighbourhood buddy, Gord, and his family, in Calgary. We hadn't seen each other in like 17 years.

I went a bit off my track the next day to stay with our friend Andrea, Judy's friend from when they were teenagers . It was nice to get off the speedy, busy Trans Canada. I had a blast riding the twisty roads NW from Vernon. In one particularly fun section, a cop came up behind me and pulled me over. I guess he had his lights and siren going chasing me for 7 kilometers. When I pulled my helmet off and pulled out my earplugs he reamed me out, with words that is. I guess technically you are not supposed to wear ear plugs. Its dangerous for hearing not to. He said my license was hereby revoked and my motorcycle was impounded at the side of the road. I was going 120 in a 70 zone. I pleaded that I had gone all the way to NFLD and was almost home, and I had a woman waiting for me. And I loved riding these twisty roads. I lied and promised not to speed any more. He said he had a call to attend to and handed back my license. Whew. The cop was probably just pissed off that it took him 7 km to catch up. If it wasn't just a 250 I guess he never would have caught up.

I decided to take the fun way again. Instead of going Kamloops to Hope, I chose the Hwy 99 Duffey Lake Road from Lilloet to Whistler. It is the best motorcycle road that I have seen on this entire trip. The rear tire looks o/k. One more twisty road. Yahoo !