Hey All, I’m going to make this short and sweet as I am pressed for time, but I am in Moncton, New Brunswick right now with my uncle’s sister (which usually means your mom, unless not blood related- which is the case here) and her husband (Trudy + Gary Steeves)… I am within a day’s ride of the bridge that crosses over to PEI!

In my last post I estimated that I’d finish my trip on September 30th, well that still might be the case, but I’m leaning towards October 1st…

Anyways, here’s what’s happened:

Day 78: Saint-Leonard to Woodstock: Woke up. Ate breakfast. Used kettle provided by motel instead of my camp stove. Oatmeal was, well, oatmeal, but added some milk provided by motel. Ate muffin provided by motel. Drank coffee provided by motel. Motel was cheap but good and kind. Left in the cold of a new cloudy day. Put on new gloves bought a few days before. Hands warm. Laughed at weiner dog chasing me. Sun comes out. Gloves no longer needed, after an hour. Haven’t put them back on since. Good investment. Take back road to Grand Falls. Pass by farm with one, no two, oh crap, three large dogs who decide to chase me. They nip at my heels and try to run me off the road. I yell at them to go home and show no fear. They listen. I pass through Grand Falls and cross over giant bridge to get to another back road. Ate lunch which included chocolate covered almonds. Got back on road and enjoyed a beautiful ride by the river with the multi-colored autumn trees. Made it to Woodstock. In New Brunswick, not the concert in 1969. Set up tent. Talked with french lady. Ate supper. Called mom. Forgot flashlight. Searched for tent. Found tent. Went to sleep.

Day 79: Woodstock to Fredericton: Woke up super early. Got packed up. Skipped breakfast… because I saw a Smitty’s on my way through the night before. Ate french toast and bacon. A luxury. Got out of town early. Took the main highway (which is new and awesome) and climbed hills. Giant hills. No relief in the middle. Straight climb. Didn’t stop. Surprised myself. Many kilometers up hill. Determination was the key. And the prospect of eating more chocolate covered almonds. No incidents to speak of. Made it to campground in Fredericton. Met two older ladies on bikes, one of which was from Whitehorse and knew Malkolm (the 17 year old I rode with in Ontario). The other lady graciously offered me dinner at her place. I accepted. We rode to her house. I ate and drank to my heart’s content. I had apple crisp. And then more apple crisp. Good conversation. Said thanks and left before it was too dark. Rode back to tent. Had shower. Had sleep.

Day 80: Fredericton to Gagetown: Woke up and ate. Got packed up and left. Rode through downtown and finished errands. Took pictures and ate lunch by the river. Left town and took the back roads. Back roads were busy and narrow. Weather was cloudy and windy. I was unhappy and frustrated. Should have taken main highway and gotten further sooner. Made it to campground outside Gagetown and set up tent. Ate dinner and met a nice couple. They offered me pork and peas with rice. I showered and planned to use the pay phone. The payphone was a deathtrap and surrounded by at least ten large spiders. A picture would not have done it justice and all I can say is that I decided not to use the phone, after staring in awe for five minutes. I went to bed thinking about the phone of death and then the rain woke me. I just used the word “and” in every sentence in this paragraph and I don’t know why.

Day 81: Gagetown to Moncton: I woke up just as the rain was subsiding. I didn’t get much sleep because I was tossing and turning. Apparently (I say apparently but really I knew and was too lazy to do anything) I set up on uneven ground and kept rolling off my sleeping mat. Well I sucked it up and got out to make breakfast. I packed upand got out in decent time. I dressed in my rain gear and not too far down the road I changed out of my rain gear. Then it rained. I put on half my rain gear. It stopped raining. I kept on half my rain gear and got hot and started to sweat. I took off the remaining rain gear and the sun dipped behind the clouds. Then I found something to distract me from the weather.

It was the trees. Up until this point I had only caught glimpses of the vibrant colors of autumn. Today I passed such deep reds and oranges and golden yellows they took my breath away. I admired the beauty and felt better about my day. I rode far and fast. I cruised my way to within 30 km of Moncton and stopped at a gas station where I met a member of the skinhead gang in Calgary who was hitchhiking. I gained some perspective on the troubles Calgary has with gang wars in a place almost as far as I can be from Calgary on this trip.

I continued onwards and made it to Trudy and Gary’s place. They welcomed me with arms wide open and fed me too much good food. I showered in the most awesome high-pressure shower ever and did my laundry. I put on my Quebec Nordiques t-shirt and got comfortable and talked sports with Gary. As the evening got late I went to bed and watched sports centre briefly on the TV in my room. As my eyes began to close I turned off the TV and reached for the lamp. That’s the last thing I remembered, until I woke up 6 hours later in the same position, covers and sheets still neatly placed and my bare feet hanging off the end of the bed. Apparently I was tired. Well I got under the covers and got more comfortable. Naturally, at this point, I found it hard to sleep. Sigh.

Day 82: In Moncton: Today is a miserable, rainy, windy and cold day and I have some important financial business to take care of so Trudy and Gary offered their place for another night. Gladly accepted over a large breakfast of champions. Tomorrow is the trek to the bridge… to PEI…

*ALERT* To whom it may concern: I plan to be in Peggy’s Cove on September 30th… This is a rough estimate, so give or take a few days, but for all the ladies planning to meet me there for hugs and kisses, be warned: you must proceed in an orderly fashion… Security will be present for crowd control and pictures with me will be available after the show… Ahem… Sorry, just a little wishful thinking there… OK, actually I plan to be completely alone aside from God’s presence shining from the clouds, the whales swimming by, the eagles soaring overhead, the rabbits and deer and wolves and bears emerging from the trees in perfect unity, the love of my life standing on the rocks with her long hair blowing in the wind as the ocean tide splashes over the rocky shore… Yikes! Sorry, there I go again… Hmmmm, maybe I need therapy… or a Skor Blizzard…

So apparently northern New Brunswick is just an extention of Quebec… I did see my first Canadian flag though, as I exited Quebec, and I thought of it as a worm on a hook… like, “Sure, we love Canada, look at our giant flag!”… and then you never see it again… But there are a lot of good people there, so I respect their right to be unique, and make poutine… glorious, glorious poutine…

Anyways, northern New Brunswick is entirely Francais… So as I just got used to using my french, it seems I’ll be using it longer than I thought… (by the way, I’ve been complimented 3 different times on my french, and a few times people were suprised to hear me speak english! Not bad for only having to speak french twice in 9 years… Maybe I should work for the CIA…)

So here’s the Quebec story:

Day 70: Hawkesbury to Montreal: I woke up early. Showered. Went downstairs and said good morning to Marie. She greeted me with tea and toast and eggs and fruit and oatmeal and a smile. I gladly accepted them all. We spoke long but it was good conversation and then I got packed up and ready to go. She prayed for me as I left and get this: she tells me I look good with my beard! Never had I expected such words to be spoken. I mean it’s allright, but I’ve never thought I could grow a spectacular beard like my dad. Well I guess this is good enough. Maybe I’ll keep it. (I don’t think she was just saying it to be nice either because we spoke about that compliment in some detail afterwords:)

I said my thank you’s and goodbye’s and using the details of the stranger I met the night before I wound my way through what was left of Ontario and through a sneaky little back road I entered Quebec. As I crossed into the world of french, I wasn’t expecting to see any signs to welcome me, but there was a little Quebec sign (in my pictures) and then my first “Arret” sign, which as I mentioned earlier, is supposed to mean stop, but nobody really seems to actually stop here in Quebec.

I then found the streets that would turn into “La Route Verte” which means Green Route, or Green Lane, but anyway it is a path for bikes to follow all through Quebec… It is a series of side-roads, or major roads with bike lanes or actual bike paths all conected to get you anywhere in Quebec you want to go… Very cool… So I followed the streets and paths into Montreal with ease and enjoyed the very noticeable change in culture, with the closely built houses, the numerous trees and the lack of fences…

As I made my way to the hotel (had to stay in one in Montreal) I passed by Place Jacques-Cartier which is where I enjoyed the best poutine I’ve ever had, about three years ago while I was in Montreal for one of many work contracts. After settling at the hotel, which wasn’t far, I made my way down for some poutine and practiced my french. I made short conversations with those I encountered, but managed to put a plate of steaming fries, gravy and curds in front of me. It was sublime, but not as good as I remembered. I then made my way back to the hotel (where there is a very nice lady at the counter:) and there was a group of tourists gathered around the TV there wacthing a movie. I joined them for a bit and had much free popcorn. I made my way back to my room and watched the Bears lose to the Packers. Ugh. I showered. I snacked. I slept.

Day 71: Montreal to Louiseville: Woke up late. Left late. But I did enjoy my free breakfast which included multiple croissants with melted cheese and jam. Said goodbye to the same nice lady at the counter who just happened to be working the morning after working the late shift. I got back on the trails in Montreal and tried to leave the city. For those of you who haven’t been to Montreal, it is a LARGE city and I spent half of my day winding through residential areas until I crossed the river. But on my way through I passed by a school where the kids were outside for recess. Through the chain-link fence, I could see I was approaching a group of kids, one of which was watching me intently. As I passed by, he got into a running position and took off! He was trying to race me along the fence all the way to the end. I took the challenge and kicked it into high gear with a devious look on my face. I passed the young man and just as I turned the corner at record speed, I could see the look of surprise/joy/defeat on his face. That’s right, I win.

I crossed the river and made it to Celine-Dion-ville. It’s not actually called that, I think it’s Charlemagne or something like that, but they have multiple shrines, signs and businesses dedicated to her and it’s no wonder she’s so high on herself; these people worship her! I got through the creepy town and made it to the outside of civilization and the start of farmer towns. It’s difficult to describe the beauty out there, but Quebec’s beauty really begins to show its colors when you exit the big city. Many trees and quaint homes scattered across corn fields and the like make up my field of view. I made it to Louiseville as the sun was going down and planned for Quebec City the next day.

Day 72: Louiseville to Levis: Woke up early. Really early. Left really early. I knew I had a lot of ground to cover, but I didn’t anticipate how long it would take to get there. I actually had some contacts in Levis, or more specifically, Pintendre, which is right across the river from Quebec City. Their names are Troy and Lorilee Weisner and they have four children. I found a phone to use and let them know what time I planned to be there. Lorilee said she would have dinner prepared for me. Sweet! After a good coversation with my parents, I made it to Trois Rivieres which has roads that look like an earthquake went through. I hit a large bump so bad that my front handlebar bag flew off, breaking the clips that hold it in. I had to go to Canadian Tire to buy a strap to keep it on.

I made it to Subway for lunch. At least if you go to a restaurant you can just point to something on the menu, but here was my first big challenge in french: ordering a sandwich. It was lunch hour so the lines were long and the french was flying back and forth around the room. I got up to the counter and tried my best to order, well it turned out that my accent was a problem and my vocabulary wasn’t quite up to par yet. I ended up pointing at stuff and nodding and as people stood in awe of the english speaking man who needs food. The lady “sandwich-artist” was actually very kind and accomodating and if there was one thing I learned it was to try speaking with their accent and remember as much vocabulary as I could. I got my sandwich though, but what a nightmare!

I realized a few hours down the road that time was ticking and so I phoned Troy and told him I would be late. At this point, I mist say, that I am quite fit now, compared to the beginning of the trip and my energy amazes me everyday, yet I still felt the need to settle for my good old tasty friend: the green Monster energy drink. Boom, down the hatch. Eyes popping, ready for a heart explosion. Well the drink probably did nothing other than give me a rush, but I didn’t even think about the kilometers passing by, I just rode. Up hills, against the wind, in the dark, it did not matter.

It was quite dark when I got to Quebec City but it wasn’t too late…yet. So I tried several ways to try and cross the river, but every route I took I was greeted with signs telling me I can’t bike there. Frustrated, I found a Mcdonald’s and phoned Troy asking him to pick me up. That’s right, I cheated. Although technically all the extra biking around I did would make up for the distance to Troy and Lorilee’s house but it was getting late and I had to make a decision. So this man whom I’ve never met comes to pick up this strange and crazy bike guy and him and his wife invite me into their home to offer me a plate of excellent food and a room to sleep in before heading to bed themselves. Thanks for your hospitality you guys! You are awesome. I can’t believe I tried to go as far as I did that day, but I made it to the house and that was enough for me. I ate. I slept in a nice comfy bed.

Day 73: Quebec City: I decided to take a day to rest after all the distance I covered the day before. I awoke to the sound of TSN sports centre and was up right quick. It’s Troy’s morning tradition to eat breakfast and watch sports. Me too! So I got a variety of breakfast items and watched and talked sports. Afterwords, Lorilee told me she was planning on going to visit a friend and she could drop me off at the ferry which goes to old Quebec City. A great way to enjoy the day I figured, so I accepted. Good thing too, because it was amazing. From the moment I arrived after the short ferry ride, the sun was shining and the place was bustling with tourists but not too many tourists.

I walked around for three hours and saw all I could see. I snapped pictures like never before and absorbed as much of the rich culture, architecture and atmsphere as I could. It reminds me of being in Europe and they do a really good job of keeping everything clean and beautiful. A lot of old Quebec is located on a hill with cliffs, so you can climb your way through the narrow roads and see all the old buildings, or you can ride a tram-car if you want. I walked. One thing that is quite evident with the french culture here, is their catholic churches. So many giant, beautiful and old churches dedicated to numerous saints are scattered accross old Quebec and for the most part, the whole province.

I needed to get back to the ferry, but before I did I bought a Quebec Nordiques T-shirt, which I can justify because if you’ve ever seen my pictures of me in Egypt, I was wearing my friends’ Winnipeg Jets T-shirt because the airplane lost my luggage. So I decided I will only wear anything Oilers related and anything from a dead franchise:) I love hockey!

The ferry took me back over the river and I still had some time before I was getting picked up so I went over to a small place called Capitaine’s and ordered their “mini” poutine. Well it wasn’t mini (good thing I didn’t order a large) but it was the best poutine I’ve ever had. It blew my montreal poutine experience right out of the water. If you ever get a chance to go to Levis, go to where the ferry takes off and check out Capitaine’s. So good. Multi-layered in heart-stopping goodness. Hey, I can burn it off, remember? Ha!

Well I got picked up, made it back to the house and met the kids. We enjoyed dinner together and then made our way to their favorite icecream place. I can’t remember the name but they serve soft-serve icecream in many flavours and then cover it in a thick and hard shell of either milk or dark chocolate. I ordered a medium maple icecream covered in dark chocolate. So good. Muli-layered in diabetic goodness. I can burn it off, remember?

Back at the house I got what I needed to get done, except for finish my blogging. But as I was blogging, Tim came down (the third oldest) and gave me $7 dollars of his own money for my cause. I didn’t know what to say, that’s a lot of money for a 6 year-old and I didn’t know how often he gets money. I graciously accepted and made sure he knew how thankful I was by leaving a note on his bed as I left the next morning. So I went to bed late because I was still blogging but had a great day.

Day 74: Levis to Riviere-Ouelle: I woke up early enough. Ate a big breakfast as Lorilee continued to offer me more food and I accepted. I got packed up and said goodbye to the amazing Weisner family (thanks again you guys!). I made my way to the river and got back on La Route Verte and noticed the wind wasn’t against me. It wasn’t really with me either but with the warm sun out, it was a perfect day for riding. I flew my way towards Riviere-Ouelle and found my way through more gorgeous Quebec countryside. Nothing of note to speak of on this day, but I found my way to the campground and randomly met up with another engish-speaking family from Vancouver Island with their daughter from Ottawa. After setting up my tent and investigating the showers, they invited me to join them for food and wine and conversation. We got to know eachother well and talked about many things. Through the course of the evening I got to know the interesting trio of Theda (the daughter) who has an amazing voice and shared some opera with us, Albert who has an interesting outlook on life and does pottery (I drank coffee out of a beautifully made mug) and Yvonne who is an artist and teaches any who are willing to learn from her isolated but gorgeous home near Vancouver Island.

After the socializing, I had a nice, long shower which cost me four quarters but was well worth it. I walked back over to my tent and Theda greeted me with a bag of her home-made dried fruit for my ride the next day. She urged me not to eat it until tomorrow, and I assured her I would try. I did not eat it until the next day. I said goodnight and enjoyed some time under the stars before going to sleep.

Day 75: Riviere-Ouelle to Saint-Louis De Ha! Ha!(seriously, that’s the name, look it up!): I woke up to a cloudy, rainy morning, but it stopped raining long enough to have a good breakfast. The trio of anglophones offered me some coffee, fruit and anything else they had. I gladly accepted and had a slice of the biggest and bect mangos I’ve ever had. They gave me more food to pack in my lunch and then we all got packed up and said goodbye. We didn’t know eachother very long, but long enough to feel the need to hug as we said goodbye:) I got going in good time and made my way towards Riviere-Du-Loup which is where my trail stops following the St. Laurent River.

It was raining as I rode there and I realized it was the first rain I’d seen since before Sault Ste. Marie in Ontario! It’s been a good run of weather for me since then. Well after an incredible ride along the shores of the river to Riviere-Du-Loup, I turned southward towards New-Brunswick. This is where the route presented me with something I did not expect. The trail started to wind its way through the trees and it continued that way to the New Brunswick border. Over 100 km of forest trail and it was amazing. The weather wasn’t all that great with the rain coming back and going but the wind was strong and it was at my back. I took some great pictures of the trail and it led me to a campsite in the middle of no-where right beside it.

Before dark, I managed to set up my tent, get a great fire going with wet wood and eat some dinner. At this point I realized I hadn’t used my “bearbangers” I had bought in BC to scare off bears. I guess I hadn’t been in a good place to test them out, far from people. Well here I was, far from anyone for miles and the chance to testing out something that explodes; I could not refuse the opportunity. I got in position with the pen-shaped launcher and let it loose. BANG! I’ve never been close to a shot-gun going off before, but I imagine that’s what it sounds like. Forget scaring off bears, I think everything living within a ten mile radius was heading for the hills. I went to bed confidant that nothing would bother me in the night. I was right.

Day 76: Saint-Louis De Ha! Ha! to Saint-Leonard: Well I woke up early and very alone in the woods. I made breakfast and got packed up. I realized as I prepared breakfast that I had to use my water bottle’s water for my oatmeal because there was no water around, so I made sure I grabbed some at the closest town. The day was another trek through the winding forest trail, down by a waterfront and then all the way to New Brunswick, which is where I realized that the trail actually continues through New Brunswick but now it’s called the Trans-Canada Trail. The problem is that it’s not finished, so I followed it for a ways into Edmunston, had some food, bought the cheapest pair of gloves I could find (it’s getting colder here) and then continued on down the highway towards Saint-Leonard. I found a nice and cheap and amazing little motel spot call P’Tit Auberge and stayed the night there. The bed is so comfortable, I slept really well.

Day 77: St. Leonard: I woke up late. Enjoyed the free coffee and muffins and ate breakfast. Got all packed up and ready to go and was offered another night to stay at the motel here for even cheaper. The owner even offered me hos laptop whcih is what I’m currently typing this out on. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get caught up and rested up for what is supposed to be a great day for weather tomorrow. And for a room cheaper than a campsite! So I’ll enjoy my time here and set out for Woodstock in the morning.

Thanks to everyone for all your support. Please continue to pray for me and know that I am still going strong and enjoying myself.

Until next time!

Jordan

Alors, tu peut voire en haut que peut-être je suis dans la belle province du Québec. J’ai arrivé ici avec l’anticipation que je peut utilisé ma français après près-que neuf ans. Je suis fatigué. J’aime le poutine. Je m’appelle Jordan. Je suis fini! Bonjour. Au revoir!

As you can see I am in Québec now and I felt like expressing this french language I’ve had churning inside me for almost 9 years. I won’t translate the above, mostly because it’s more fun for me this way, but I’ll tell you that near the end there I kind of de-evolved into my kindergarten days and even used the dreaded “Je suis fini” which my french teachers always despised because you should always say “J’ai fini” which means “I’ve finished” instead of “Je suis fini” which means “I am finished” or essentially, “I am dead”.

It’s been a fun and interesting ride since my days in Peterborough and as I sit here in a cozy house provided by Troy and Lorilee Weisner in Pintendre, Québec (close to Québec City), I am stuffed from much food and chocolatey goodness and enjoyed a nice relaxing day in the old city of Québec.

So as per usual, sit back, put your feet up, grab a nice big cup of java, a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and snuggle into your favorite lumbar-supporting desk-chair… On y va!

Day 65: Peterborough to Actinolite:Woke up early. Ate glorious breakfast and chatted with Marilyn. Left late and said goodbye. Sent package full of stuff I was lugging around that I didn’t need anymore, home. Made gear lighter. Flew through the city and into the wild. Tried to see how far I could make it and ended up at Actinolite, nowhere near as far as I wanted to make it. A rather uneventful day, but beautiful greenery surrounded me and the sun was shining. The small and unremarkable town of Actinolite just happened to be close to a campground I decided to settle at because it was getting late and there wasn’t another spot to camp for miles. As I was leaving Peterborough, I was looking forward to Actinolite because the name reminded me of Aphrodite, the greek goddess of love. Actinolite is neither greek nor the goddess of anything. In fact I’m quite sure the closest thing to greek in that area is the “Opa!” at the mall in Peterborough. Anyways, I nervously tried to pay for my site as money has been tight for a while and I had just transferred some. Turns out my debit card was denied, but the family that runs the place there let me stay for free anyway. Set up tent. Cooked food. Slept to the sound of a bubbling brook boasting a bright and brilliant banner of beautification benefitting the betterment of my brain. Bob.

Day 66: Actinolite to Perth: Woke up to several spiders staring at me through the net of my tent. As I packed it up, I bid the spiders farewell with a gentle tapping. I ate oatmeal with raisins. I drank water. I slathered the sunscreen even though I could still see my breath. The sun came up and warmed the day quickly. Today was probably the most unexpected day in terms of terrain. I want you to imagine what it would be like to travel forward on an ever winding road and every time you turn the corner, there is another hill to climb. For basically the entire day I climbed hills. No descent. Just a gradual climb up and up and up. I think there is a greek myth based on this idea and relating it to Hades or hell. Well it was not hell, but it was terrible. It didn’t help that I accomplished all this against the wind. But after the day of up, I arrived in Perth and was greeted by the amazing Dairy Queen sign in all its glory and enjoyed a skor blizzard (which are much cheaper out here). I rode over to the campground and tried to pay for my site four times but nobody was there to take my money. There was also nowhere to leave my money. So I relaxed outside my tent until the sun went down and replaced my brake pads on my bike all by myself. I fell asleep to the sound of a barking dog.

Day 67: Perth to Ottawa: I woke up to a large glowing orange sphere penetrating the deep fog. As I hadn’t paid for my site yet, I also had not recieved the code for the washroom or the code for the padlock chained to the garbage bin. You’d think for a campgound so tight on security that I would be forced to pay somehow. But I never did. I found my own personal washroom in the woods, ate breakfast, got packed up, looked for someone to pay (to no avail) and left. I decided to take some back roads to Ottawa. The back roads were ripe with the smell of cattle, ringing with the sound of shotgun blasts and riddled with the the infestation of buzzing BMW’s careening around corners. Long story short: I made it through the back roads and through Ottawa to Parliament. As I snapped photo after photo of the beautiful buildings housing a rich heritage and ridiculousness we Canadians call government. Amidst the crowd of tourists was a group of Inuit persons attracting a crowd in celebration. As I approached I could hear a woman with a microphone at the center talking about her music career. Immediately I thought of Susan Aglukark but wasn’t sure it was her until she broke out in song with “O Siem”. (If you don’t know who I’m talking about, she was a big hit in Canada about 15 years ago, look her up!) Well I liked the song back then, and I liked it this time as it was sung live.

After I left Parliament I made my way towards East Gate Alliance Church (where Stephen Harper attends) and met Bill Buitenwerf, the pastor there. He greeted me and took me to his home and set me up for the night. I met his two young kids Jason and Aaron and then Bill came up with the awesome idea of taking out the boat on the river, do some BBQ and go tubing! I gladly accepted the unexpected and we were off. I ate four burgers, then Aaron convinced me to go tubing with him. I considered how good I look in a wet-suit and got set up. Well it didn’t take long for Bill to realize that he would have to push the speed right into the danger zone to get me off that tube. I think when I hit the water I was more surprised that I was still hitting the water, I must have skipped at least three times. Miraculously, as Aaron had also abandoned his tube (and is much younger and smaller than me) he apparently was flung off his own tube and on to the bottom of my overturned tube, staring straight into the sky with a look of confusion. Quite the sight. We laughed and decided to climb back into the boat and tour the river before the sun went down. We cruised down the coast and saw where the Prime Minister’s house was, saw Parliament from the coast view and then went towards the casino in Hull, Québec (the opposite shore of the river). Actually, there are some waterways leading towards the casino and we chanced the fading light to follow them. The casino is certainly a sight to behold, but at this point the light was gone. We blazed a trail across the dark water back to the dock with a giant flashlight in hand, attracting bugs and dodged a bat or two. I must say, what an enjoyable end to the day, I am greatful. As we went back to Bill’s house, I met his wife Jennifer, a kind and generous woman, and then went to bed.

Day 68: Still in Ottawa: All you need to know about this day is that I rested, enjoyed my time in our nation’s capital, ate three giant slices of pizza followed by a Dr. Pepper, tried to play X-Box with Jason and Aaron but failed miserably and accomplished some errands.

Day 69: Ottawa to Hawkesbury: I woke up and got packed up so I could meet Bill and many others at the church for the men’s breakfast. I arrived and explained my story to many of the gentlemen present as I loaded my plate with pancakes, fruit and syrop. Adorning the table was a platter of thick ham, which is where I loaded up on non-kosher goodness. I got to meet some good people that morning, including Jim Kahle, the father of a few good friends of mine and we discussed the woes of the Ottawa Senators. Jim and a man named Vic (Vic is notorious for speaches, which I remembered from a wedding three years back when I was in Ottawa the first time at this very same church… FYI -I made the wedding cake:) handed me a wad of cash as I left and refused to accept my humble refusal. So I loaded up on another generous helping of food (a vegetarian would starve here) which is where Bill came over to tell me he paid for me. After the look of embarassement with stuffed cheeks left my face, I said thank you and wondered why I ever thought the food was free. It turns out the men’s breakfast is technically free, but you have the option to throw money in the pot for future such breakfasts. I ate more slowly and thankfully.

I said my goodbyes to Bill and his kids and to all those that were there. I had one more errand in town. My grandfather, aunts and uncles and cousins had collaborated to transfer me some money which couldn’t have come at a better time. (If you guys are reading this, thanks again!) I zoomed out of Ottawa towards Hawkesbury, where the older parents of a man named Bob, whom I met at the breakfast that morning, awaited my arrival at their humble abode. The ride was uneventful but beautiful and I made it to Hawkesbury. As I pulled up to the street of Marie and Maurice, I stopped in a parking lot to get my bearings. Just then a man pulls up in his car and asks if I need some directions. Well then he describes that he is also an avid cyclist and tells me how to get into Québec with ease, which was a concern of mine. He then gives me his information and tells me he’s there if I need him and takes off. Cool but strange how things work out sometimes.

I arrive at Marie and Maurice’s condo and was warmly greeted by the older couple. They sat me down at their table where they had company (Jeff and Ruby- a nice and humble dutch couple) and a plethora of things to munch on. Then as Maurice sat comfortably on his sofa, Marie served me and served me. Food and more food. Then we had dinner. A home made pizza, an omelette and fresh tomatoes with a cup of hot lemon green tea. Marie is a french-canadian woman of 77 years of age and appreciated my “merci” even though it was pretty much the only french I spoke. Such an amazing woman, so vibrant and accomodating; she would offer to cook me lasagne from scratch if I asked. Well we all enjoyed some good conversation and I went to bed relatively early. Fell asleep to the sound of wind blowing through the trees outside.

To be continued!

It’s getting late here at Troy and Lorilee’s place and I need my sleep for a long day, but I promise I will try and continue my story-telling…

Thanks for all your support everyone!

By the way, I am terrible for remembering to take pictures, but the things my eyes have seen could never be fully expressed by a picture… There is such beauty in this country and I urge you to see it someday… I hope the pictures I HAVE taken are enough of a glimpse for you… And actually today I went a little crazy with the snapshots in Québec City, so I hope you enjoy that too…

Just check out the gallery I posted on the side-bar, under Pictures

As you can tell from the picture above, I’ve had some interesting times since leaving the “Soo”… But let me first say to Rob and Marcel (above) you guys are awesome!

I decided to change my route a little bit after Andre from Velorution suggested it might have less traffic, be more scenic and the roads would probably be better… Well I’m not sure what route he took, but from the moment I left my main path and headed across Manitoulin Island, over the Ferry and onward, the traffic has been relentless and the roads are the worst I’ve seen on this trip… Although, the experience I’ve had in these past days has been nothing short of remarkable and the people I’ve met are the kind of people you want to meet, especially when you’re in a rough spot…

So sit back, put your feet up, take a sip of your Skinny-Boy Latte Decaf No-Foam, and enjoy some good reading (I assume- and yes I know what happens when you assume)

Day 56: Sault Ste. Marie to Blind River: Woke up early. Showered a great shower. Got packed up. Had maybe the best omelette I’ve ever had, cooked by Andre with sauteed mushrooms, feta cheese and sundried tomatoes. Rode with the gang to Velorution (Andre’s bike shop) along with Andre’s daughter Anika and met up with another buddy of Andre’s where we all would head out on the “Hub” trail in the Soo (a bike path freshly constructed and made possible by Andre and others). Zig-zagged through the trail and rode with the tag-alongs for about 25 km to where the back road met up with the main highway. Said our goodbyes and Anika pointed out that people don’t shake hands anymore, they pound fists. Left with Martina, Malcolm and Keston for a long day in the ever-so-missed sun. The day was long, but the roads were good and we had a nice lunch at a marina (check out the pictures) and then we arrived in Blind River. Fittingly, I never actually saw the river. We found out that there was no campground in town, but about 10 km back there was one we saw, but it was expensive and we would have to backtrack. So Keston decided to go hunt for a good spot in the forest while the other three of us sat at Subway. Malcolm ate two subs in the time I ate one. Martina barely finished 6-inches of hers. We found Keston riding towards us and he said he’d found a spot so we followed him to it. We were brought to a patch of large rocks behind a small cliff edge so we were hidden from the road. So we all piled our stuff over the cliff and set up camp. I decided to set up on the flattest rock and then proceeded to pound in my tent pegs. I’m sure it could have been done with a sledge hammer, but I decided it wasn’t necessary. We told some jokes, had some laughs whilst sipping hot-cocao and then it was time for bed.

Day 57: Blind River to Espanola: Woke up to a dry tent for the first time in ages (compliments of sleeping on stone instead of grass) but two of the others slept on moss, so they were drenched (condensation- look it up). Unfortunately as I was laughing to myself about my dry tent I noticed that some slugs had decided to make a pilgrimage to my tent. Twenty-one to be exact. I counted them in fury as I stuck them with a stick and then flung them one by one. Lesson 1 in dealing with slugs- fling them as far from your tent as possible, for they WILL return and tell there buddies along the way about the tent of magnificance about a days-slide away where they can congregate together and get slime all over my tent in a gathering of numbers not seen since First Nations Peoples were last in the area with Tipis. Sorry. I haven’t seen ants for a while so I’m taking out my frustration on slugs.

Anyways, after slug-flinging, I ate the oatmeal prepared by Malcolm and Martina because I was out and they have a whole giant bag of the stuff. And I have to say guys, your oatmeal is disgusting! I can’t believe you guys eat that every morning. Sorry to break it to you. But you guys also eat amazing lunches and dinners while I chew away on granola bars and slurp soup. Well after breakfast I was ready to pack up my tent. Around the perimeter, five more slugs were making their pilgrimage. I packed up faster than they could reach it. We left Blind River fairly early and made good time to Espanola. The terrain was relatively the same throughout the day and the day was beautiful. The roads weren’t too bad and at lunch time I made my decision to stick with the group instead of continuing on the #17 to Sudbury. We arrived in Espanola, set up our tents and took a swim in the lake. I climbed the slide and slid into the lake like a small child in his first play-place at Mcdonald’s. Later on I sat at the end of the dock and watched the sunset. A perfect romantic moment I thought, with no special someone to share it with. As I envisioned a live studio audience going “Awwwwww,” I sighed and felt better. Supper was good and we all got ready for bed. I left my tent at about 11 pm to go call my dad who is on Mountain Time. After my conversation with him, I reaturned to an interesting scene. It seems a creature had found us…

Day 58: Espanola to Tobermory: The night was aweful. When I had gotten back to my tent, Keston was hovering outside Martina’s tent and everyone was jostling about and talking. Apparently while I was on my phone call, a raccoon had tried to drag Martina’s bag into a ditch before Keston caught it and shooed it away. As I have the largest tent, I just put everything inside it, but the others tend to leave stuff out. Sure I can worry about bears trying to get my stuff while I’m in my tent, but it’s MY stuff;) We tried to go back to sleep and it seems Martina could just dose off and not wake up to the sounds of another robbery attempt. Malcolm had the right idea with ear-plugs. I on the other hand am an insomniac and look for every possible excuse to stay awake. Keston was preoccupied with listening for the raccoon’s return and making grunting noises to scare it off again. Well it only took about ten minutes for the little devil to come back and claw its way into another bag. Keston got out and said he stared the thing in the eyes and it didn’t even move until he was two feet from whacking it. It scurried off back into the ditch. Keston and I agree, that if either of us had followed into the ditch, there was sure to be a posse of raccoons ready to gang up on us. Perhaps they didn’t want the bags after all. They wanted fresh meat! OK, well maybe not, but the night was filled with numerous attempts by the raccoon to get at something. With his chattering and sneaking around my own tent, I had to wake up and make some grunting noises to scare it away. But then he’d find something to rustle and tear at and keep me awake. (I don’t know if it’s just that raccons have black around their eyes that people call them theives, because they’re not good theives… More like smash and grab instead of a thought out Mission Impossible plot)

So the raccoons were the cause of my lack of sleep. Well, dawn hit like a sack of bricks to the side of the head and I was up and packing. We left the beautiful area for our trek across Manitoulin Island where we would catch the ferry to Tobermory. So as time was a factor, it was more like a race to the ferry. We started out well and for a change Keston was way ahead of the group and I decided to go catch up to him after flying down a nice big downhill stretch past Martina and Malcolm. I caught up and we stopped up ahead to wait for the other two. Well we waited for about an hour because Malcolm had to fix his chain again. We got underway and never saw Keston again… until the ferry. I’ve heard from a few sources that Manitoulin Island is supposed to be quite amazing for cyclists and very scenic. I’m not sure where on the island that is, but from my vantage point it was like biking through Manitoba again and the roads were horendous. (Oh, by the way, I saw my first bear of the trip and took a picture just outside of our campground at Espanola)

After a long ride of body-numbing bumps in the road, we arrived at the ferry dock with an hour to spare. And in the back of my mind I knew we would see Keston there. He had hitched a ride a long wasy back to make the ferry. Lucky guy. So we boarded the ferry first, and then had traffic floow in behind. We headed straight for the cafeteria and I ordered a burger with fries and a slice of pecan pie (the perfect healthy meal for a cyclist) and then we sat down for a few hours and played cards with the seemingly endless fresh-water lake looming in the background, reflecting a cloudless sky. We arrived at Tobermory and went for the first campground we saw. We scoffed at the idea of paying more for a campsite than the cheapest hotel I’d paid for and went back into town to look for alternatives. We happened upon a happening joint called the “something” Mermaid. There was live music being played and a balcony overhead adorning a wide assortment of knick-knacks. We inquired of the lady running the place of any area in town to stay and about three seconds into the conversation she offered her farmland for us to stay. (pay attention to this little act of charity, for it is the first of many to come). We enjoyed the music for an hour or so and headed out in the half-dark of a moonlit evening to set up our tents in a field. As it was quite dark when we arrived, we basically went to bed right away after an interesting time setting up tents. Sleep came.

Day 59: Tobermory to Owen Sound: We awoke to a sunny morning, though condensation struck again. I found a closeline to hang up my tent to dry in the sun and wind and hung up some of my wet clothes, icluding a pair of underwear that might still be hanging there today:) We got packed up and set out for Owen Sound. Keston caught a ride the whole way and Malcolm, Martina and I ventured on alone down some back roads as much as we could. Whenever we had to get back on the main road, the traffic was quite persistant and the choulders on the road were crumbling away. Another day of what would have been better accomplished with a mountain bike. The day was beautiful, however, and though the wind wasn’t great, it wasn’t directly against us either. We arrived in Owen Sound and looked for where Keston had set up at the campground. We found the site and got set up, only to realize that the ground was covered with insects. Yummy. After many grueling experiences with bugs, I didn’t seem to care this time and just dealt with it. Besides, also when we arrived I noticed the group on the site beside us had turned down their music for our sakes. An act of goodwill foreshadowing the evening to come.

It was getting darker out and Malcolm and Martina had finished their dinner and were turning in early. I was about to go grab a shower when I noticed Keston chatting with the group next to us and him mentioning a banana boat. (If you’ve never had a banana boat, it’s a camp classic where you take a banana and stuff it with chocolate and marshmallow and wrap in in tinfoil to toss in the fire- delicious) Anyways, Keston proceeded to show his banana boat making abilities to the four campers (Samantha, Lisa, Jeremiah and Mckenzie) and I wandered over. I got to know the four quite well and they offered me some beer. Then I sat down and we talked for long while. It was after this long while that I figured out that Samantha (Sam) was a professional masseuse fresh from school and I don’t know how many times I had mentioned on this trip that my back was always sore. Within a few mintues I was being pushed and pulled, in pain and relief as my ultra-tense back was remolded into a work of art. Sam did an amazing job and I am quite thankful, except for the fact that I won’t be able to continue using her services as my trip continues. I went to go grab my shower and then came back and stayed and talked with everyone until about one in the morning. Such nice young people on a vacation from not far away and good company offering unexpected hospitality on a rough day.

I will also make note of the fact that I chatted with a good older Christian man downtown and we encouraged eachother on our journeys. It should also be noted that a plague of flies had descended upon the city, followed by a hungry plague of seagulls. I choose not to describe the situation any further as I am still stying to forget being covered in flies every five minutes and having to clean myself off until the sun went down which is when they all disappeared. Ok there, I told you.

Day 60: Owen Sound to Collingwood: I woke up to a cold morning. But man my back felt good. Today was the day where Keston, Martina, Malcom and I would part ways. They would head towards Toronto as I cut through south-central Ontario. We said our goodbyes and Keston urged me to reconsider leaving them, but I explained that it wouldf take to much time to stay with them and go through Toronto. I was left alone to ponder the rest of my journey and contemplate the very real situation involving money and how I can’t split costs anymore. I decided to take my time getting underway and just relax. After over a week of following somebody else’s itinerary, it was long overdue. Sam emerged from her tent and said good morning to me as I ate a light breakfast. As she waited for her friends to awake, she offered to accompany me on a stroll through the bird sanctuary at the campground (this campground was rather posch). So we chatted and the sun began to warm the day and we saw the swans, peacocks and ducks and such squacking away. After walking back to the tents, Sam then offered a ride to Tim Horton’s where she payed for a bagel and ice-cap for me. (Sam is such a sweet girl, as you can see) Sam, if you’re reading this, you’re a sweet girl:) So we drove back to the tents and I got packed up, rather slowly, as the others in the group had awoken and we talked. I said my goodbyes to everyone and headed into town where I went to the library, the grocery store and numerous paint stores looking for more Methyl-Hydrate (my camp fuel). It was about 4:20 pm when I got out of town and I had around 70 km to get to Collingwood so I rocketed my way there.

It was getting quite late when I arrived, and I was starting to worry that maybe I’d have to set up a tent in the forest somewhere when I passed a small hotel where I thought I’d ask for directions to a nearby campground. It was as I entered the parking-lot that I was getting hollered at by a dry-walling crew BBQing in the hotel parking lot at the end of their work day. I wondered over to answer their questions and that’s when I met Rob and Marcel and a man from Portugal with them whom they called “Pork-chop”. Within five minutes of conversation, they sat me down for a beer, then offered me all the food left from the BBQ, including the corn-on-the-cob they just cooked, drenched with butter. Another beer, another round of frenchbread and stuffed olives. Another beer, another round of potatoes, mushrooms chicken and steak. Another beer? Yes. I’ll admit it, and though it was the most in one sitting I’d ever drank, I’ll have you know that this was over the course of three hours and a lot of food. Never been drunk. And still have never been. Two more spanish speaking gentlemen joined us in our little party (I don’t remember their names) but it was right before that when Rob came back from the office of the hotel holding a key for a room. MY room it turned out. What an amazing way to end the day. I was hungry and seeking shelter. Both were provided without asking. I want to say thanks to Rob and Marcel and the others there that day for helping me have a good evening at the end of a day of riding and for showing me that hospitality and kindness is not a lost concept. For those of you reading this, I am humbled by this circumstance of being tight on money but find it fitting considering my cause is for the food bank. Also, I kept the faith and God was faithful. A reoccuring theme.

Day 61: Collingwood to Orillia: I awoke in my free hotel room and showered in my free shower, thankful for every minute of it. I left at checkout time so as to soak up all the free hotel goodness I could. My plan for the day was to ride to Barrie and seek a place to use the internet and get some errands done. Along the way I found an information centre/museum where I kind lady offered me her desk to use for a few hours. I accomplished what I wanted and she pointed out that instead of heading through Barrie, I could make my trip easier by using some back roads to get to Orillia. I followed her advice and the traffic was non-existant and the roads were good. Upon arriving in Orillia, I asked around for the nearest campground and a hotel receptionist who lived in the area directed me to one on the outside of town. She explained it would take an hour and forty-five minutes to get there and the directions were somewhat complicated. Well it only took me fifteen minutes to find the site and the directions were way off. Some of the buildings she told me to look for were on opposite ends of a road she said would take hours to get to. (If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that a lot of people have no concept of the effort invloved in biking… some people think it will take forever, some say it’s impossible and some think I should be travelling as fast as a car). Well I got to the campground and of course it costs an arm and a leg, something I can’t afford. I talked the guy down to $20 provided it was cash, which meant I had to travel back to town to get some. Upon leaving the office, a nice older couple approached and explained they had overheard my predicament. They placed a $20 bill in my hands and I told them of my story. We talked briefly and the lady left me with a bible story of how in a time of famine, when Ruth arrived in Bethlehem (in the book of Ruth), it was harvest time. She related that to how in my time of need, there was a way set before me. I pondered on this and thanked God. I paid for my site, got set up and did some laundry. While in the laundry room, a man who lives in the area offered me a beer and some chocolate. At this point, and never expecting charity, thankfulness is an understatement. I slept well.

Day 62: Orillia to Peterborough: I awoke, ate and left in good time, expecting a long day ahead. The road was long, with many a winding turn… The roads were terrible. The day was nice though. The traffic was relentless. My legs were strong. I powered my way to within 20 km of Peterborough where I stopped at a gas station to get out of the sun and eat. After leaning against the air machine and being pestered by a wasp, I left and continued on. I made it about 1 km from the gas station when my tire tube exploded. Apparently I had hit a broken beer bottle resting on a crack in the road where a bridge started, sitting just perfectly to wound my tire. (this is the first flat since Thunder Bay and my new tires). Well I decided to walk back to the gas station and utilize the air machine I was leaning on (sometimes I hate irony). I realized the machine took 50 cents, which I didn’t have but I continued to change my tire anyway. An older gentleman on a motorcycle stopped by and we talked about the similarities and differences of our bikes versus the highway. As he left I asked for two quarters. He gave me four dollars and wished me well. I filled my tire and continued on. Now with the time involved with walking my bike with a flat tire and raplacing it and talking with the man on the motorbike, it was getting pretty late by the time I got to Peterborough. I happened to stop in at a hotel and asked for some directions to nearby campgrounds. It was there that I met a kind young woman named Sara. She directed me to the computer so I could try researching that way while she would do dome reasearh of her own. We got into conversation about my trip and then she offered me a toasted bagel with creamcheese, a muffin and a glass of milk. I didn’t even mention that I hadn’t had supper yet. (Sara, if you’re readin this, thanks again!) I gladly accepted and before I left, I got the information I wanted and we ended up chatting for a long while after. Naturally, as things had been happening in the last few days, she said she would have offered me a room for the night, but if was full. I took note of Sara’s blessing of hospitality, thanked God and went on my way. It was getting darker out, so I zoomed to the campground and paid an arm and a leg to put up my tent. But I reflected on the fact that I wouldn’t have had that money if it weren’t for those who helped me. I set up in the dark and went to sleep.

Day 63: Still in Peterborough: I woke up early and had breakfast. I surveyed the scence of the campground as I hadn’t seen it in the light and is was quite nice. The day before I researched where I should go to church Sunday morning and so I got packed up and headed there. Another beautiful day. Naturally my campground and the church were on opposite ends of town. I arrived at the church, leaned my bike up against the wall and entered the front door. The first woman who greeted me was named Marilyn, a recent widow who lived alone in a big house and a very nice lady, and within 2 minutes of conversation she offered her house for me to stay for 2 nights (that is where I am typing this out right now). Overwhelmed once again by the kindness I have seen since the ferry from Manitoulin, I gladly accepted and thankd God once again. After church I was approached by many kind people whom I explained my story to. So many names! I can’t remember them all. I talked with Dave Enns, the guest speaker that day and we talked about all the people we both knew in various places and then he gave me a list of contacts I should call as I journey onward. Remarkable. Unbelievable. I rode a short distance over to Marilyn’s place where she fed me soup and pizza (very good) and she got me set up in a room downstairs. It took maybe three seconds for me to feel at home here, Marilyn is a great hostess and often tells me how a mother would want her son to be treated on a trip like this. So mom, if you’re reading this, I’m in good hands. I spent the day relaxing and talking. Marylin’s daughter and grand-daughters (very cute) came by to entertain for a while. Later, for supper, I was served a delicious combination of peppers, pineapple and ham over rice and it was spectacular. Icecream for dessert and later on tea and biscuits as two of her friends came over and we all played Phase 10. Great day. Welcome relief. Slept well.

Day 64: Still in Peterborough: Well not long ago, I woke up and had a giant bowl of cereal and a nectarine. I tapped out this blog for you fine people and now that it’s over, I just might have a shower and get some lunch. I’m watching the football game tonight here in the comfort of a home. I was going to meet Sara (from the hotel) at Boston Pizza for the game, but she was out of town longer than expected. Sigh. (Sara if you’re reading this, don’t feel bad:)

I appreciate the constant support you have all shown me. Your prayers are being answered daily in a very real way. I am alive and well and inching closer to the end of one of my life goals. I urge you to think about my cause as well. Hunger is a dangerous thing. Poverty and greed are two plagues our city neglects to mention and the consequences are there for you to see. The food bank is one of the entities Calgary needs to help. And it is helping. With the awareness and donations I am trying to raise through this trip, I have hope it will help further.

Something I have experienced in the last week: Whenever I ask for a drop of water, God gives me a river. Whenever I ask for a river, God gives me an ocean. I’ve never had to ask for an ocean. For those of you who don’t believe in God, you must know that I respect you and your right to choose for yourself and I am no judge, but also know this: my life and this trip are like a lightning rod for God to show Himself. Read between the lines and see for yourself. God is good. Amen.

Hey all… I’m in a place called Owen Sound in Ontario. Decided to take a bit of the south route here instead of going through Sudbury… but I’ll update on that in the future…

Right now I’m just sharing a concern I have. I knew when Braden left that expenses were going to be doubled but I had to continue for the sake of my cause and for the sake of this adventure. Money has worn thin and it’s getting kind of scary. Potential sponsors have either said no, maybe or ignored me outright. I think awareness is spreading, which is good, but I need to finish this trip.

Some of you have given already and I appreciate that. I have faith that I will see this through and I have more ideas of how to get something rolling but this message is a result of urgency. I believe that you hold the power to spread the word of what I’m doing here and the money will come.

Support me, support the Calgary Food Bank and support those in need in Calgary all at once. Tell somebody, tell anybody and my journey can obtain new meaning.

Thoughts and prayers are more important than dollar signs, this I have learned, and yours are more than appreciated. Thanks to you all!