Mon français est terrible.

Saturday’s ride was about 700 km. We took a lesser traveled road from Nipagon up through Hearst and Kapuskasing and on towards northern Quebec. It was a beautiful ride on roads that were in pretty decent condition, a little bit winding and very little traffic.

We stopped for a picnic lunch and a glass of wine at Long Lac by a quiet little beach. We planned to have a bit of a rest (I was hoping to get in a 5 minute nap in the sun.) These weird little flies poked a million holes in us, injected our blood with an anti-coagulant, and left us to bleed to death. We didn’t stay long. As we loaded up to hit the road again I decided to put my jacket back on – I’d had enough sun for the day. Alb decided to remove his shirt to even up his tan a little, and I gooped him up with sunscreen.

A few miles down the road we hit some construction and a stretch of gravel. It was probably only 5 kilometers but it felt like 105. I was so glad I put my jacket on as a shield because I became a bulls eye for flying rocks. I was also glad for the glass of wine I had gulped. It helped me relax as the bike jittered its way through the gravel. It also helped me forget about the fact that Alb had also had a glass of wine. He was obviously unaffected by this and once again expertly maneuvered us through the construction and flying rocks. The combination of suntan lotion, dust and sweat makes for an interesting body coating at the end of the day.

This area of Ontario reminds me of the Fort St. John area. A lot of the communities are French speaking and we got to practice our lack of communications skills.

We spent that night in Rene Brunelle Provincial Park outside of Kapuskasing where once again the mosquitoes held us captive in the trailer.

Highly Rank ... doesn't mean ranking high.

Friday’s ride from Winnipeg to Thunder Bay seemed extraordinarily long for some reason. It was a nine hour day. The temperature was in the low to mid 20’s and the wind on my previously sunburned skin was a little chilly.

I cannot adequately describe how comfortable the bike seat is. We have not experienced sore backs at all. A little bit of numb-butt by the end of the day, but nothing bad. God bless Mr Corbin for his great seat design.

We camped at the KOA just out of Thunder Bay.

I got up earlier than the rest of them on Saturday so I could do a load of laundry; our clothes closet in the bathroom was getting pretty rank smelling. Actually I noticed the smell the first day but attributed it to the new wood the closet was made of. The smell could best be described as being like the smell of a wet load of towels that gets left in the washing machine for a few days. (Okay, I am probably the only one who has lots of experience with this.)

Barbee politely lit a candle in the bathroom each time we stopped and didn’t mention the smell at all. As the days went by and we added dirty socks and underwear to the bag of laundry in the closet the smell worsened. Even our clean clothes were beginning to take on the offensive odor so I had no option but to wash clothes.
I returned from the laundry building at the KOA with my pile of fresh clean clothes; the others told me to go check out the fresh smelling closet. Sure enough it smelled pretty normal. While I was a little shocked and embarrassed that our laundry had been that bad, there was no denying it was better now.

Well, it turns out that there is a little cubby under the closet that is accessible from the outside. For reasons only God knows, Jimmy had decided to bring along his rotting old running shoes. And yes he stored them in the cubby under our closet.

Currently there is a rotting pair of shoes somewhere in a landfill near Thunder Bay, and our clothes smell fresh and clean.

Hey, 25 cents is 25 cents.

Thursday night July 19 we stayed just outside Winnipeg at the Rock Garden Campsite, where most of the spots were filled with semi-permanent residents. Who would want to live in amongst that many mosquitoes is beyond me, but the site was quite nice.

We knew the showers were coin operated so we scrounged through all of our purses and ash trays to gather a pile of quarters and all headed off to the shower house. Barbee dropped a quarter between the slats of the wooden changing platform and so the challenge was on… If there were security cameras in the building, I’m sure the owners got their laugh for the day: there’s two semi-naked women dismantling the washroom for 25 cents (and we tell Jimmy and Alb that they work too cheap at $20 each an hour) There were concrete stools on each of the four platforms (yes, we checked under all of them) as well as the platform itself to lift. We couldn’t get the last one lifted as it was wedged between the two walls. That was a torment, cuz we could see at least two quarters down there. I don’t think we came out richer than when we went in, but we did recover just about enough to cover the cost of the shower. …. I know, I know … why were we paying for showers anyway when we had a beautiful bathroom with full hook ups back at the trailer? Who knows these things? Some things just defy explanation.

It's a long long day from Winnipeg to Thunder Bay.

I have a weak internet connection and it doesn't want to upload pictures, so I'll add more when I can.

For now, it's Friday night at nearly midnight and we are at a KOA east of Thunder Bay. I have a few saddle sores and a bit of a sunburn but we are happy healthy and alive. I just don't have the energy to type out a detailed blog.

I'll add more when I get a better connection.

Passing Wind...

The term Gale Force would be a bit of an exaggeration but it was very windy Thursday morning when we woke up in White City Saskatchewan. We dawdled over a leisurely steak and egg breakfast hoping the wind would die down but alas it did not, so off we ventured.

We got out on to the Trans Canada Highway and made it about ½ a kilometer before Albert heard me whining in his headset. “I’m not having fun.” He ignored me.

One minute later, “I don’t like this,” I said, as the bike was leaning at a 45 degree angle to keep moving while the strong winds from the south blasted us.

“Do you wanna go sit in the truck with Jim and Barb?” was his response in a very parental sounding voice. I’m sure it was an honest question; he just wanted me to be comfortable.

“No!” was my emphatic answer, due in part to my stubborn determination to ride the bike all the way across Canada and part due to my inability to release my death-grip on my husband. If he replied, “Then shut up!” he shut my headset off first so I didn’t hear it.

A short time later I added, “Should we ride beside Jim so his truck and trailer can provide a wind shield for us?” As if I have ever driven a motorcycle myself and have a clue what I am talking about.

“It’s not that bad,” was his reply in a not particularly believable tone that I could imagine him saying, “It’s okay baby, this won’t hurt you a bit.”

I’m not one that hears voices often, and even if I do, it’s even less often that I would tell you about it, but I had a definite feeling of hearing “Relax. July 19, 2007 is not going to be your last day alive.” I took some solace in that, but didn’t particularly relax.

Some of the farms along the way had a row of trees planted along the highway that really helped to shield us from the wind. Some did not, and Alb had to be ready to respond to the changes. As I noticed one extended field approaching that had not one tree in sight, I did not curse the owning farmer, but I very definitely thought, “God bless the farmers who plant trees for protection. May their crops produce ever-so-abundantly.”

We got to about the middle of this huge field and there was a large red and white billboard that simply said Trust Jesus. This was a reality check for me. “Jesus, I do trust you,” I stated. But I have to add that I really really hate it when He makes me prove it.

I decided then that since I was unwilling to get off the bike, there was absolutely no benefit in my sitting there with my guts tensed in a knot. It’s bad enough Alb had to deal with the wind without adding a stiff and tense passenger to the mix. So I inhaled deeply and let out a cleansing exhale and just chilled out. It was not long at all before the winds died down and I even managed to get a bit of a nap in before we hit the Manitoba border.

We drove 701 km that day and stayed at the Rock Garden campsite just outside Winnipeg.

Bloggin' Can Be Tough Sloggin'

There are times when I am considered a semi-intelligent person. Other times I amaze even myself at stupid ideas I have. I totally envisioned writing out my blog as we traveled along. I got a nice hard covered notebook and a pen on a string so I wouldn’t lose it in the wind. Uh, yeah. You just don’t write on a neat line at 120 km on the road on a bike.

We knew before we left home that Alb’s laptop was having difficulties. I fired it up last night to catch up on my bloggin’ notes and as I started typing I realized something was drastically wrong. Every time I typed a T the computer inserted t5. About half the keys would insert a second letter when pressed. I could backspace the extra letters out but spell check wasn’t recognizing them as misspelled words. My last blog looked like Chinese before I edited it letter-by-letter.

I wasn’t willing to fight like this for another 6 weeks while on the road. I deked into Staples in Swift Current and walked out the proud owner of my very own HP laptop. Hours later we checked into our campsite in White City Saskatchewan. It had free internet connection. I eagerly dragged my new computer out of the box and fired ‘er up. I got to the windows screen that asked me for my password. What?? Here I have a new computer that I couldn’t log into and I was 300 km from the store I bought it and the store had been closed for 2 hours.

Through the wonders of technology I hooked up with Packer and he held my hand and walked me through the back door and got me blogging in smalltown Nowhere Saskatchewan. It must have been quite a site there in the boonies. Three out of four of us sitting on lawn chairs with laptops while Barbee sat there quilting at the picnic table.

It was sort of overcast today but still in the mid 30s. We traveled 610 km.

The Road Less Graveled

How does this happen? Four coffee addicts go on a vacation with more food and belongings than they can possibly use and there is no coffee anywhere. I think that when Barbee did the final shopping, she saw the large Tim Horton’s coffee can in the back of the truck and assumed we were covered. The can was in fact my emergency potty cuz we don’t buy ice cream and have no pails. Not having used it in the night, I took the lid off and sat and inhaled deeply with my face in the can. I think smelling but not being able to drink was more torturous than anything.

Day two we hit the road in search of the nearest coffee shop or restaurant. It just so happens they serve swamp water in mugs and call it coffee for $2.00 a cup.

After nearly dumping the bike in the deep gravel of the first night’s campground Albert decided that from here on in we’d be taking the road less graveled.

Our red flashing idiot light telling us we were nearly out of fuel came on long before we reached Rocky Mountain House. Apparently the bike can only go 340 km on a tank. Our guardian angel pushed us up to the first gas pump where, looking into the tank, Alb could clearly see the dry bottom. We put 22 litres into the 20 litre tank.

Today was quite a bit hotter and we shed pieces of leather as we went along. Alb got a pretty good burn on his arms even with 30 spf sunscreen. We spent an extraordinarily long time in Red Deer trying to get out of Red Deer. After sitting in the Futureshop parking lot where we could get internet connections, using the Megellan GPS, scouring a map and my Canada Guide without success, Albert took the only other option we had: walk up to a trucker and ask him where we were and how do we get to Drumheller. Turns out we were only a block or so from the road we needed.

The badlands are amazing. It’s like turning a corner and entering a different land.

Taking the secondary roads gives you a good glimpse of the way of life in the area. Whenever there are crossroads where the farm vehicles come onto the highway we would get sandblasted. You couldn’t actually see the dirt and dust but we sure felt it on our bare-skinned arms.

We made it just past Brooks to Tillebrooke Provincial Camp and called it a day. Only 510 km today, with a nice sleep-in, our breakfast in a slow restaurant, and our unintentional detours in Red Deer.

BBQ steak, a bottle of wine and air conditioning, does life get much better than that when you are trying to hide from a gazillion mosquitoes?

We aim for Manitoba tomorrow.

Cross Canada on a Wing(TM) and a Prayer

First day we made it 620 km. Not a real long day, but we didn’t get off to as early a start as we anticipated. We decided we’d stop in at PGRH and get our trip to the hospital out of the way. The real story is that Barbee stopped in to see her uncle before we left. But I couldn’t help but think “Okay now, we’ve been to the hospital so we shouldn’t have to do that again this trip.”

Our first stop was at the top of the hill in front of Ritchie Brothers. We’d lost J & B and we weren’t even out of the city limits yet. After waiting five minutes we realized they must be ahead of us and took the challenge of playing catch up after giving them such a head start.

We pulled into McBride for fuel and Jimmy pulled in not long after us, as did the 12 to 15 Hell’s Angels that were following them. Jimmy just looped the gas station and kept on going to the one across the street as we sat at the pump now surrounded by the Hell’s Angels and a Budget cube van they had along with them. I assume it was the vehicle that toted their drugs and/or dead bodies in, but wasn’t brave enough to ask them. I really really wanted to take a picture of them all around us, but envisioned having my camera confiscated at gunpoint or some dramatic thing I wasn’t willing to chance. Sitting on the bike at the pumps viewing the majesty of God in the Rocky Mountains around us I couldn’t help but think that that is typical of life. You can be surrounded by Hell’s Angels but God will always dwarf them with his power and majesty.

We stopped at the Jasper park gate and wowed the girl with the fact that we were headed to Newfoundland. Three vehicles later she was shocked and amazed that J & B were also headed to Newfoundland, until they told her we were together. Jim paid the $17 to stay overnight in the park and convinced us we needed to pay on the other side of Jasper. We didn’t stay in the park. I suppose we’ve wasted $35 on worse things.

We stayed at Fish Lake, halfway between Saskatchewan River Crossing and Rocky Mountain House. The mosquitoes were pretty bad for those who don’t take vitamin B, but not unbearable. I convinced Barbee to get on my little Vit B kick.

It was about midnight when we flopped into our little bed in the back of the truck. I sat on the edge of the bed struggling to get my jeans off cuz I couldn’t stand up and there’s not a lot of room. I finally wiggled my way out of them and went to fold them up and realized I had actually pulled them off without even undoing them! I wasn’t even drinking! What up with that?

As we flopped our heads on our pillows, my final thought on our first day on the road was “Lard Tunderin’ Geezus, we’re headed to Newfoundland!”

Headin' out

Okay, the trip to hospital is out of the way

Mile Zero

Okay, so we're not bad enough to actually drive a Harley but the Harley shop of Prince George really is Mile Zero of our trip cuz it's only about 2 blocks from home. This is my biker chick T-shirt they sent me off with from work. This was a very nice and much appreciated gesture. I am taking the gift as a "we love you and hope you come back" type of gift as opposed to a "so long goodbye, have a nice life" type a gift.

It is only just now starting to sink in how much money this trip is going to cost us. But it's only money and last I heard you can't take your money (nor your debts) with you when you leave this earth. (Not that we plan on leaving any time soon... so you can chill out about that, Mom.)
However, had I been thinking earlier I would have gotten a lottery license and set up a "guess the total kilometers for a toonie" raffle. I have a Pay Pal account if you wanna join now though.

Seriously, as I am typing I'm thinking I really do want people to guess. We're going from Prince George fairly directly to Ottawa, up to Montreal, Quebec City and on to the Maritimes from there with no real plan beyond that. We will circle PEI and Nova Scotia and take the ferry over to Newfoundland to circle the rock as well - not necessarily in that order.

So email me ( elzie@telus.net ) or add a comment here and gimme your guess as to the number of kilometers you think we'll put on the bike. (There'll be no toonie charge for participation) I'll pick up a fantastic prize along to way to award the winner.

Here's the starting odometer reading: 40117

Even Moses freaked out over a Burning Bush.

I think I need to face the fact that I am just not meant to have lush plants surround me. I decided not to plant flowers in the front corner flower bed this year, knowing we would be gone and the underground sprinklers don't reach that little out-of-the-way spot. One less thing for the housesitter to worry about.

Because my gardening skills are limited and my ambition even more so, I have not watered this garden at all this year. God has done a pretty good job of that even though it is mostly under the overhang of the house. To be honest, it's growing so well there really isn't any room in the bed for flowers this year. There are a couple of perennials the neighbour pawned off on me last year that have been flowering since before the snow left and the 2 Burning Bush shrubs that were about 6 inches high when I put them in two years ago are now about 30 inches and full and lush and beautiful. They should be bright red in full "burn mode" when we return the first of September. I think the fact that the roots have had to burrow 4 feet in search of water has made them flourish.

I went to give the flower bed a final weeding before we leave. I stopped dead in my tracks as I approached. I don't think I'd have been any more shocked if the burning bush started talking to me. There about 2 feet away, under the stairs, was 3/4 of the bush detached and withering in the hot sun. "You little bugger..." I muttered out loud. Okay, it's possible "bugger" isn't the word I used.

Withering in the sun.

They look like they've been chewed off.

Flat top Burning Bush

Jed's explanation? It was getting so big it wasn't going to be long before it blocked the stairs.

Trust me, it was a long way from blocking the stairs. But even if it did, would that be so bad? Maybe then people would quit coming up the front stairs and standing on the not-so-safe deck that needs re-floored.

The next day he decided to take out the back lawn with a little ATV riding.
He even took pictures as evidence against himself.