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.