The Gatineau River, at least where we were, is as calm as calm can be. When you look across it’s mirror surface, it is unbroken save for the multitudes of water insects living dangerously atop its surface. They skim across leaving little v-shaped wakes behind them.  Every few minutes there is a big splash and some of them disappear. Apparently the fishing is excellent around here.

Once Phil and Dave left us it was quiet. Dennis didn’t come down to entertain us on the piano and we slept like rock-a-bye babies, awakening naturally before 5am. Charlie unfurled himself from his sleeping bag and ventured out first. “Wendy, its so beautiful out here. Come on out.” We sat outside at that long, long table and watched the day break over the water, enjoying the birdsongs and  light breeze for as long as we could.  

There was work to do. We had to get to Joe Mammas bike shop on Bank Street in Ottawa by 2pm!

The terrain from Alcove towards Ottawa had some pretty narrow shoulders and ruined ashphalt. We followed the road signs to take us via secondary roads as opposed to the autoroute. After going quite a way, we were confronted by a sign indicating the autoroute and the highway we wanted to take. The problem was that there was also a sign indicating no bicycles were allowed on the road we’d need to take to get to the one we needed to be on. After a few minutes of discussion, we decided to risk it. There were great shoulders on the autoroute and we’d only be on it for 2km. How did they know?! We had done less than 1km when a cop car pulled up beside us. “No, you are not allowed to be on this road. It is too dangerous for bikes. You should have gone through Wakefield.”  Well, we explained  and looked at him beeseechingly and he sighed……and then he gave us a police escort, complete with flashing lights all the way to the highway we were permitted to be on.

It’s very hilly around Gatineau, and  Hull, right into Ottawa. This is a city I would enjoy exploring! As it was, we drove around near the parliament buildings, posed ourselves and our bikes for photos and then headed to the bike shop. We had made arrangements for bike check-ups and maintenance work and we had to drop them off by 2pm. We got there early enough to wander up and down the street a bit, buy some artisan bread and eat a shawarma at a restaurant called Jericho. Nice decor!   Then we headed back to the bike shop and I was engrossed in conversation with the mechanic when I was suddenly embraced in a bear hug!

Geri and Les Philp are friends from way back! I met them when I was about 19 and dating Les’ younger brother Jim. Together, we 4 hiked and cross-country skied, made huge spaghetti dinners for whoever was around and used doors as tables. We were young, we had fun…..           Geri and I “clicked” and we’ve stayed friends over all these years even though Jim and I eventually split. Their youngest son, Matthew,     stayed with me for a while some years back when he was in Calgary. Geri still likes to write letters and she’ll send me a couple over the course of the year. I seek instant gratification and use the phone! I’ll call every few months. There’s always lots to say, never any awkwardness, we catch up from where we left off. Geri reminded me that it’s been 32 years since we last saw each other! What!!!?

So here we were in Joe Mammas Bike shop in Ottawa. Les was giving me a great big old bear hug! It was so great to see him and to have the chance to introduce him to Charlie. Les took us the picturesque way back to his and Geri’s home old restored and blooming home, stopping to show us where he’d worked as Lockmaster on the Rideau Canal system. Some of the guys he’d trained were manning the stations now since Les retired. He is enjoying retirement but is not taking it easy. He delivers “Meals on Wheels”, drives people to medical appointments, cuts and sells cedar with his sons, (which Matt uses to pay for flight time. He’s planning on becoming a commercial pilot.) Les swims regularly, looks after the huge lawn and is a powerful prayer warrior in the Christian faith. He and Geri have been married for 44 and serving the Lord for most of them.

Geri got home from her job as a homecare nurse a few minutes after we did and there was a whole lot of hugging going on. It was fantastic to see her, to be there! We both went to bed later with sore jaws from all the talking, laughing and reminiscing we did, our bellies full of her meatloaf, mashed potatoes, veggies and cheesecake.

I always love to meet new people and make new friends. But there is something mighty special about sharing a history and maintaining a long term friendship over years and years. When you get together with old friends, well, there’s no stopping the conversation! It goes on and on and on……

Whoops, this will be out of order. We’ve had poor wifi and I can’t always post so I save them as draft, then when I get good wifi, I add the pictures and hit “Publish”.

“On the road again. Just can’t wait to be on the road again, ….”

This is one of the songs I’ve been singing in my head as we start off every morning. Some days, I must admit, are harder for me to get going. It’s mostly because our last rest stop was in Longlac, Ontario. We need a rest day soon but both of us are driven, compelled, determined to get through this area. Ontario is formidable in a car and more so on a bike. Goodbye! I’m including the route from Matheson, Ontario, east into Quebec, south to Val D’Or, right down to Ottawa. Goodbye! Goodbye!

There was no need to wear “my uniform” of merino wool this fine sunny morning. Neither did I  need the bug suit. It was beautiful, with almost perfect conditions.   La Route Verte 2 on highway 117 has good shoulders and fairly good pavement. It was just when we turned onto highway 105 at Grand Remous that we hit terrible tarmack. We stopped there at a depanneur , bought chocolate milk and made ourselves some bagels with cheese, before proceeding on our way. There are waterfalls there worth a stop. Mesmerizing watching all that water flow…. Where does it all come from? Won’t it run out sometime?  

Every day Charlie says, “It would be a good day to see a Moose.” I agree, but I tack on “from a distance”. We saw neither moose nor bears today.

When I was around age 10, Johnny Warlo, a friend of my mom’s from her girlhood, and a conservation officer, made a stop at our house. He was enroute to drop off an orphaned bear cub to where, I’m  not sure, …. a zoo, a rehab, I have no idea really. But he turned up with this baby bear and my brother and I got to roll around with it on the front lawn while all the neighbourhood kids looked on. What I remember most about that bear cub is how solid, how dense and heavy it felt. “Mom, can we keep him?”            “Awwwwww…….”

Maniwaki sounds Hawaiian to me but it’s First Nation (Algonquin) for Land of Mary, or Mary’s Land. It’s a Quebec town where we stopped there for the night. Charlie would have been quite happy to “wild camp” but not me. The shower at our last campsite had not worked and the idea of another dirty night was totally unappealing. We bought groceries and went to a hotel. Shower, clean sheets….ahhhh….too bad every article of clothing I have is dirty. There’s a solution to that, but not for a few days yet. In the meantime, if you know what’s good for you, don’t get too close!

My good friend Becky Citra, her husband Larry and their lovely dog Penny   live on a beautiful piece of property east of 100 Mile House in BC. For over 30 years they have built their lives there, living in and working on their older home, knowing and participating in the community. For many years they had horses but no longer. Horses are a big responsibility and with their daughter grown and flown, they now have more freedom to travel or do as they wish. Becky’s twin sister, Janet and her husband own the adjoining property. Vancouverites, they are only there for part of each summer. Beck has texted me about the wildfires and how there is nothing between their home and the burning town of 100 Mile House but dense dry forest.  My heart aches with anxiety for my friends and for all the people and animals whose homes and very lives are threatened or have been lost.

Maniwaki to Alcove, Quebec was a challenge! Hills. There were so many hills. And twists and turns. Hills twisting up, hills twisting down. Four and a half minutes up, 36 seconds down, 6 minutes up, 42 seconds down, 5 3/4 minutes up, 38 seconds down…… On and on….. my heart wasn’t into it. I was tired.

The town of Low was an accomplishment for us! We had done 5000km!   We did it up in style, celebrating with a shared litre of chocolate milk! Then we got back on our bikes and did more hills.

Alcove, a tiny community on our way supposedly had a campground. We stopped at a garage where there were three men working there, all looking forward to 15 minutes from then when they could close up and go home.  (This garage is kinda famous. It has an original V8 sign from the 1930’s and these signs are very rare! They have been offered a lot for it but they have chosen not to sell it. While we were there, a guy on a motorcycle stopped by to photograph it).  We asked about the campground and all 3 looked at each other. They didn’t know a thing about it. Well, there was one, but it was up the hill about 10 miles away….. and oh, yeah, there’s that other one, but it’s about 30 more km east. Then, one guy, Phil,    said “Why camp at a camp ground when you can go around the corner to the river and camp there for free?” “There’s a raft there and a lot of the locals hang out there but they won’t be there tonight because it’s Tuesday. Come on, I’ll show you.” So, we jumped in his truck and drove down to take a look.    Well, given all the options, this was home for the night. We drove back to our bikes and asked if there was a store nearby.  No, but Phil said he was going to the store anyway and that he’d drive us. Excellent! We bought canned food and beer, he drove us back to our bikes and we headed to our campsite. We picked a spot near the water and prepared to setup and  Phil, who decided to hang out with us for a while said it was fine but that it was snake grass. “What does that mean?”, I asked. “Well, there are snakes that hang out around there”. “Ohhhh!. Nooo!!!”

This raft was a raft like none other! It had a 20′ foot table with benches, a sauna, a piano, a sectioned off area for little ones with an interlocking rubber floor mat, swings, a BBQ, a Quebec flag and an upper deck. I asked Phil if we might be able to put our tent up in the kids area and he said, “Why not!” So that’s what we did!    No snakes there! Phil and another local guy, Dave,     who happened by, visited with us for a couple of hours, telling us all kinds of stories about another guy, Dennis. Dennis is a Ryan, and it’s the Ryan family that owns this piece of property upon which we were about to set up camp. He sounds like quite the character! He often goes to the raft in the middle of the night and plays the piano. Another story is that he was in the psych ward of a nearby hospital. He broke out of it, went around to the entrance and told the staff there that he was there to see his brother, giving his own name, Dennis Ryan. Apparently he just sat there and waited as all hell broke out as they searched for “his brother”.

The tent fit perfectly in the kids section on the raft. It was far enough away that there were few biting insects. The night was cool and perfect for sleeping. I’m really hoping Dennis does not show up!

I’m in bed, it’s 2:37 and I’m massaging the side of my head, near my temple. There’s a new contour to my face; something must have bitten me and I must be swollen. Oh good. And I use that term, “in bed” rather loosely. We’re actually camped outside, in a tent, in a sleeping bag,  on a thermarest pad that I’ve positioned as close to Charlie as possible without actually being on top of him. The campground is situated almost halfway through the park so that means that tomorrow we should be able to get out of it!

On our way out of Levincourt yesterday, we passed the restaurant we’d eaten in the night before. We’d had ……………. listen…..!!!!

Those aren’t coyotes howling,….. They must be wolves…..    

Oh, where was I…..

Anyway, even though we’d just had our own morning concoction of raw oatmeal, fake maple yogurt, skim milk powder mixed with water, chopped apple and a dollop of espresso powder,  I was pretty sure I could put away a farmers breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash browns, cheese, toast, jam, coffee and just about anything else they might have. Ah well, off we went. I’ll get a Cliff bar in 70 km.

We were about 3 km down the road when we realized we’d forgotten to retrieve the food items from the fridge. Charlie sped back, returning about 15 minutes later with our salad dressing, half an English cucumber and a brand new block of cheese. Important, as we will have no access to groceries through the park.

It was overcast and only 9 degrees Celcius with an expected high of 18. It was hard getting the layers right. One layer too many and you’re too hot, one layer less and you’re shivering. I went for the one layer less.

We rode until we came across the information centre for the park. No, even though the printed information notes 2 different places where we can replace supplies, neither is operational this summer. Good thing we went back for the food.

The park is beautiful. Every conceivable variation of green vegetation,    the water marine blue on one side, mirror black on the other. Loons! I tried to photo one but it dove and I never saw it again. And bears! We saw 3 today.

Charlie rides behind me, allowing me to set the pace. As we were nearing the top of a hill, I saw a large black shape moving up the slope. There are a lot of strawberries, itsy bitsy ones, but as sweet as candy, along the sides of the roads.  This bear was noshing on something along the roadside and retreated when it saw us. It went up a bit, then turned  around and sat looking at us. I figure it planned on going right back and finishing up as soon as we passed. I was yelling, “Charlie , look right, look right!) He missed it. Then, about 10 minutes later I saw a bear ahead of us crossing the road. When we passed it had disappeared into the bush, but there was a much smaller one that we startled on the roadside and it took off.

This park and beyond, has a multitude of lakes, rivers and streams, and they are all teeming with fish. Everyone here, everyone, loves to, lives to hunt and fish. People come out with their RVs and boats and pretty well make a summer of it. If they’re working, many will leave their equipment right at their sites and come up every weekend. The catch of the day is dore, (pronounced dooray), otherwise known as Walleye. I’ve never tried it but all we’ve talked with assure us that it is the best tasting fish there is. This man was cleaning his fish    and he explained that they could not be less than 37cm or bigger than 53cm, and he showed us how he did them. The limit is 6 fish per person. Now if you fish your quota today and eat all 6 tonight, tomorrow you can fish for 6 more. Apparently the natural resources wardens are authorized to go to a persons home and check their freezers to make sure they haven’t stockpiled fish.

The middle of the park is at about 90 km and we had already done about 24km before that so when we got to the first campground at Lac Rapide, I was pretty done. The next one was about 40km away and I didn’t have it in me. Our little tent with our two bikes looked so small compared with all our neighbors. We set up, then decided to eat dinner out on the dock because there were fewer insects there.  So that’s what we did!    Dinner on the dock!  Our neighbors took our food bags into their RV to keep it from bears and then invited us for tea. There haven’t been any problem bears around lately but it’s best not to send them an invitation. There are special buildings to store garbage so that bears can’t get at it at all. The stairs lead up to a large suspended box. Garbage goes in the box through a lid you have to raise at the top. The garbage truck drives underneath it, the driver releases a latch and all the garbage spills down into the truck.      Ingenius , no?!!

Pie! Any day that starts with pie is going to be a good day, don’t you think?! The night before we had picked one up at the grocery store for $2.50. I’ve only seen Charlie eat dessert of any kind, maybe half a dozen times in the 13 1/2 years we’ve been together, and he suggested we buy a pie! It wasn’t strawberry rhubarb; they didn’t have that but apple is pretty good too. The night before we had eaten half, saving the second half for breakfast. If only every day could start that way….    Well, we had to have a bit of cereal too. I added my secret energy-boosting ingredient to my yogurt, which is Nescafe espresso powder. Vroom! (The yogurt by the way, is Liberte Maple Flavoured Greek style. I figured that when you’re in the  land of maple syrup, you should at least embrace the local cuisine. To my astonishment, there is no actual maple syrup in it, only brown sugar and “maple flavouring”.

Nine hours of solid sleep had refreshed us and we left, later than usual, but with wings on our feet. The day was clear, bright and warm, with the promise of even more heat as the day went on. It was nice to feel the breeze on my legs. I left my bug suit stored away. There was no need to wear it as there weren’t many bugs. The wind was from the north and we were headed south-east. Perfect! It helped to push us along.  

Thanks to Fran and Marc Delaplante  who suggested we cross into Quebec from Matheson, we found wide, well maintained shoulders and the famous “La Route Verte” #2, which has been designed with cyclists in mind. Quebec really takes care of its cyclists. This is our third summer cycling in “La Belle Province!”  

We rode hard, passing through several towns and villages. When we got to Val D’Or we went to a Shoppers Drugmart for Charlie to get a prescription filled.  It took longer than we’d expected, so I made sandwiches and we had them there.

Back on the road we met some other cyclists, Deni and Letitia,  from Switzerland. They had been cycling for 10 months and had covered France, Spain, Cuba ( for two months)  and were now cycling Montreal to Vancouver. Letitia’s left knee had been hurting her for 3 days and they had rigged up a system where they had attached their long strong chain locks together and had rigged it so that Deni was actually towing her rack to rack. For three days he had been towing her. She did what she could with her right leg. There were so many hills! It must have been crazy hard! We chatted for a good while and invited them to come stay with us when (if) they get to Calgary if we’re home. They were headed to a “Warm Showers” home in  Val D’Or and planned on taking a few days to rest. Bonne chance Letitia et Deni!                       (I have handlebar envy!)

Thirty more kilometres and we were in Levincourt, and at a small motel. Hooray for motels! We enjoyed a warm shower and then went to their restaurant for spaghetti.    Did I eat all of this? No, I put a good dent in it and Charlie finished it after eating his double order. Bottomless pit, that man!

Dark, overcast, cloud covered skies. Thick, water sodden foliage. Pools of rainwater. We woke up to the prospect of a cool to cold and soggy day. The wind was undecided, swirling from the east, from the north, every which way.  My spirits were low as we left the very homey cabin  we’d nestled into the night before. I wore my old MEC windbreaker over my ever worn merino wool pullover and my merino wool long underwear over my biking shorts. The pullover and pants are like a uniform; there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wear them. If Costco sells them again, I’m going to buy them in bulk as they are as durable as you can get, not to mention fashionable and all around good-looking. Ha!

Chick drove us the very long road to the highway.  He had been especially delighted to have Charlie there last night, and the two of them spent a long time talking. Man talk, I guess. Marilyn and he are wonderful people. Here we were, Marilyn and I, sitting side by side in the waiting room at the hospital. Who would have guessed that Charlie and I would end up at their home as guests that night!?

Yesterday we had abandoned our plans for following the number 11  highway to North Bay, in favour of the unknown but recommended secondary roads in Ontario and Quebec.

The roads…ahhh.., the roads! Hardly any traffic and great, expansive, smooth shoulders. Never mind that we were under a threatening sky with rain-infused mist and wind gusts…. It was peaceful. We could talk. We could breathe and best of all, actually look around!

Mining trucks passed us every now and then, swinging wide into the empty opposing lane to not infringe upon us. There are several mining companies in the area. They mine for gold, in both open and closed pit mines. The industries up here are mining, gold and lithium, logging, and pulp and paper. And everyone you talk to loves, loves, to hunt and fish!!!

Quebec! Oh yes, we crossed into Quebec. I was SO happy to say goodbye to Ontario, even though we will be dropping south and back into Ontario in order to see Geri and Les Philp, friends since I was a teenager. I actually dated Les’s brother, Jim, for 3 or 4 years back then. Jimmy was a someone I’ll never forget. I loved him very much but did not love his lifestyle and we parted ways when I was about 21, he 24. Jim died this past February, of a massive heart attack while he was on vacation in Turks and Caicos. (I probably spelled that wrong.)  I look forward to seeing Les and Geri. They’re special.

Crossing out of Ontario and into Ontario demanded a special celebration, and Charlie and I did just that by posing for pictures and then devouring all 8 of the chocolate chip cookies Marilyn had sent with us. “They have oatmeal I them, so they’re healthy.” Healthy, my foot! But they were delicious!!! 

Robyn-Noranda. Ever heard of it? Me neither. But here it is, a thriving city of 45,000 way up north, north of Val D’Or even!  We rode through it looking for a camping area we had been assured existed down by the lake, mid-town. Nope, not there but there was an area especially for RV’s, also by the lake and not too faraway.

What luck! It was a perfect spot to camp, the skies had cleared and there was a grocery store just up the way.  Dinner was roast chicken and some packaged salads. Yum! Full, we returned to the camping area we’d spied out and we setup our tent, with me spouting about all the reasons why I HATE camping. Dirty, bugs, too hot, too cold, too wet, too, too, too!!!!! Anyway, we soon fell asleep, despite all the “too’s” and slept for 9 undisturbed hours. Who can complain? Really?!

“Are you a hippy?” This, from a young woman who was also waiting outside the liquor store in Cochrane, waiting for it to reopen. It is short staffed and had to close its doors whilst they unloaded a new order. There was a growing crowd gathering outside, all just eager to run in, pick up their 6-pack or bottles of wine and be off, off to better, more fun things. I had seen her eyeing me and my packed bicycle for a while now. She wanted to fit me into some slot, some preconceived notion of who and what I was. The thing is, I’d already slotted her into a category in my mind too. How wrong we can be!

Umm…. no, I wouldn’t call myself a hippie. I was telling Charlie about this and he said I should have told her that I was, that we are, bohemians. Well, if we are bohemians, we are pretty disciplined bohemians. “Get ‘er done” and then you can have fun.

We left Big Nellie Lake and Fran and Marc at around 7:10 because we had to take the dauntingly hilly trip in to the hospital at Iroquois Falls. We did it in record time and as I was waiting for Charlie to have his bloodwork, a woman came in and sat a short distance from me. She asked me what I was working on out in the bush and I explained that we were actually cycling across Canada. Marilyn Chircoski.  is from Timmons but moved to Iroquois Falls to work as an RN and stayed after meeting and marrying her husband, Marvin, (Chick).     When she heard we were from Calgary she excitedly told me that their 13 year old granddaughter was leaving for Calgary soon for 3 weeks of ballet training. She had been selected out of a large group of competitors. She then told me that she and her husband were staying at their cabin east of Matheson. I told her that she was exactly the person we needed to talk to! Could she tell us what the roads and traffic are like out that way, and was the Little Fox Resort open and was there a grocery store? “No, the Little Fox Resort is closed but we live right close to it so, come stay with us!” It was an offer we could not refuse!

This was what riding should be like! Once on the secondary roads we started to realize how stressful it had been on the main highway. Traffic was light, we had many stretches where we could ride side by side. Near Monteith, under the shadow of the correctional institute, we had to lift our bikes over 2 barriers and cross over an abandoned bridge.   Agriculture is returning to this region as some of the Mennonites from Elmira have come north, bought up vast quantities of land and are expanding their colonies.     The people welcome their presence and industry as Iroquois Falls has lost their main industry, pulp and paper recently.

Lunch was outside a grocery store in Matheson where we replenished our food supplies. We aren’t sure about grocery access for the next day or so. On we went afterwards, up and down hills,until we saw the turn off for Munro Lake. “Just go to the end and turn at E.  We’re on lot 14 on the lake.”

Great! We were there. Or almost there. The turnoff was not paved; instead it had been freshly graded with plenty of loose gravel. Immediately I stiffened up in trepidation but, we suspected it was a long way off so we pointed our bikes towards the lake and set off. Bam! I was just going down a small decline and my wheels skidded out. Down I went, hitting my left shoulder and left calf, still firmly clipped onto my bike. I lay there for a bit trying to assess the damage. Am I hurt? How badly? I got up and checked myself out. Head? Good. I didn’t whack it. Shoulder? Seems ok. Arm? Still moving. Elbow is a little scraped up. Hip, ok. Leg? Minor scrapes, but ok too. I checked out OK but there was no chance I was going to get back and ride. Charlie was slip-sliding everywhere too. Walk? Well, I guess we’ll have to, unless we can flag down someone with a truck.

Judy Desantos    from Timmons was at her summer home at Monroe Lake. When we met her she was driving her truck down a gravel road in northern Ontario, just back from a trip to the grocery store where she’d replenished her supplies for the week. The back of the truck was full and the back seat was full too; she had her constant companion with her, her big old dog. She heard our plight, drove home, emptied the truck and left the dog confused and alone and came back, picked us up and drove us to the home of Marilyn and Marvin (Chick) Chirposki. Judy has a son in Calgary, a pediatric urologist, and a daughter-in-law who is also a doctor. Dr Lindsay Miller and Dr ? Desantos. It’s a small, small world folks.

Marilyn and Chick met us on the lawn, undoubtedly wondering why we were arriving by truck.  The neighbors, both long residents of the area, had never met each other but had friends in common and were happy to meet each other. Our hosts gave us a tour of their property, including the lovely little cabin we were to stay in. They were having problems with their water supply so we went for a refreshing swim in the lake with a bar of soap, followed by about 20 minutes in the sauna and another dip to rinse off. We dressed and went to the house where Marilynn had prepared dinner for us all. Salad, rice, carrots, chicken and rhubarb cake.  Nice evening. Awesome hosts! They have a large family with 7 grandkids, (a dearly loved grandson and twin, Danny Wilson, had died 6 years ago in an unexplainable car accident.)  They mourn him still, of course.  All of them love to visit Grandma and Grandpa at the lake. The cabins and their main house is full of family pictures and kid’s drawings, knick -knacks and family treasures. You can feel the warmth, the love there. And they treated us just like family. Such surprises. We are aware and appreciative of all the blessings that keep coming our way. Thank you Marilyn and Chick!! And thank you Judy!

Sleeping in is a luxury. We often take it for granted. It felt luxurious this morning o allow ourselves to awaken without an alarm and to have some time to putter, just a little. Still, we were downstairs, dressed, packed and putting together our usual breakfast by around 7am. Tuesday evening we had been welcomed into the very lovely and tranquil home of Brent and Maryanne Irvine of Cochrane.  Maryanne is a Captain and a Reservist with the Canadiens Armed Forces and was busy packing away some last items she would be needing for an 8 week contract position in public affairs. She will do the 10 or more hour drive to Trenton on Wednesday. Brent does renovation work, usually  painting, although he is mostly retired. They have 2 kids. Their 16 year old daughter just finished grade 10 and will soon be leaving for 6 weeks of cadet camp and their son, 11 is at camp now. The sun was still bright as we joined them outside, cracked open some wine    and beer and munched on tortilla chips. Avid cycle tourers themselves, they had completed a strenuous 2 1/2 week ride in Portugal earlier this spring. We had lots to talk about. A little later Charlie and I walked around the corner to a movie theatre where they made greasy fries, burgers and fish and chips.   That’s what we had. I’ve had my grease quota for a while! The owner, Ray, came out and sat with for a while. No bugs, gentle breeze, comfortable temperature. It was nice.

We went back to Maryanne and Brent’s home, Charlie went to sleep and I stayed up for awhile talking with our hosts.

So, here it is, 9:40am. Charlie has an appointment and we are (im) patiently waiting….  We waited for 2 hours without resolution, and were told we’d have to wait at least another 2 hours. Charlie decided to take his chances in the next town. We need to pickup some food and then get on the road. Only 50km awaits us today, but apparently a lot of that is through a construction zone. And traffic will get heavier now as we will now get the traffic going to and from Timmons as well.

The highway was torn up for about 18km, which necessitated much dodging and weaving, but at last, we were back to the usual buckled pavement and narrow shoulders. If that wasn’t bad enough, there was a south wind and we were headed straight into it. It was work! Hard work! Eventually we saw the sign to Iroquois Falls and there was some easement from the wind as we turned towards town. We were staying with some “Warm Showers” hosts not far away , so I stayed at the beach snack shop while Charlie headed in to town to again attempt to get his blood work drawn at the hospital. I expected him to be, maybe at most, an hour and a half, but they gave him the run-around again and he came to meet me, still needing the test.

Fran and Marc Delaplante,     (This is a picture of a picture) both retired teachers, enthusiastic cyclists, and all  around athletes,  (although right now Fran has a painful neck and Marc can barely walk from back pain), live on the beautifully manicured lakeside property that they bought many years ago and have worked very hard to improve. It’s lovely. They have another camp property up north, which doesn’t sound rustic  at all, which they fly into on their private Cessna, which is floated on the lake at the back of their property.   Marc loves to fly. He told us that when he was a teenager, he sold his motorcycle to pay for flying lessons. Now they regularly take off for Ottawa, where their daughter lives, or for anywhere else they feel like going. We had a nice dinner of salad, chicken, potato salad and broccoli while we conversed. They inquired as to our planned route and dissuaded us from continuing on highway 11, as the traffic to North Bay becomes increasingly more congested and the pavement is rough, the  shoulders narrow or nonexistent. Plus, we are headed for the hills! So we are now looking to go through Mathewson and Val D’Or. I would prefer to go through North Bay. I used to live there 24 years ago when I attended Canadore College for dental hygiene. One of Charlie’s former students has parents there who have graciously offered to host us. So in some ways we regret not continuing through North Bay. But, seeing as we both enjoy being alive, we have decided to take a different route. It’s more remote but we’ll get through it.

As we charged along, Charlie said to me, “If the conditions continued just like this would you want to bypass Cochrane and go straight to Iroquois Falls?”

We left the cheese factory at 8:10. Gone are our original plans of being on the road for 6am. Gone for now, that is. If the weather continues to heat up it would be to our advantage to “get’er done” before the searing afternoon sun. Today’s high was forecasted to be 25, but in the early morning it was a refreshing 12 degrees Celcius and sunny.

The road was great. Mostly flat, what appeared from a distance to be hills flattened out under our wheels. We were making good time and we were both “in the zone.” Traffic was light, allowing the trucks to swing wide into the left lanes to give us safety. The skies were clear, the sun was shining, the winds were light. Perfect cycling conditions!   

Cochrane was 119km from Kapuskasing. Iroquois Falls, another 50 after that. We planned on staying with a “Warm Showers” host in Cochrane tonight and then cycling an easy 50 km tomorrow and staying with another “Warm Showers” host there. Kind of like taking a rest day but still getting somewhere. Our focus after that will be to get to North Bay and from there, to Ottawa. We are both feeling that getting to Ottawa will kind of be like getting to Shangrila, that most of the hard work will be behind us. I’m sure we are in for some surprises!  

So…..”Would you like to go straight to Iroquois Falls?”

NO! As much as I will be very, very , excited, pleased, over the moon, esthatic, delighted, happy, relieved, etc to put Ontario behind us, it’s just too many km per day for me, even with these near-perfect conditions. (I say near-perfect because the bugs are still something to contend with.) No, it’s too much if I’m going to keep it up day after day after day. Charlie said he was just wondering….that it was more than he wanted to do today too.

We are at Tims, recaffinating. Charlie’s drinking mint tea but I felt like a jolt of java. We just enjoy this quiet time, together but apart. I have finally been able to download another iBook. The wifi was too weak when we were in the land beyond. Soon we will be headed out to the grocery store to pick up food for the road for tomorrow, and we will pick up a nice bottle of wine for our host tonight. Another day. Another 115 km done!!!

Nice! Who could complain? 

The road before us was mostly level, the only hills, long but gentle.  We set off in the still of the morning on what promised to be a lovely day, with only 10% chance of precipitation and a high of 21 degrees Celsius. Not too cold and not too hot. Sunshine! We had forgotten how nice that can be. It wasn’t long before we had to stop and peel off a layer of insulation. I, of course left my bug suit on. I’m like the “boy in a bubble” except that I’m a girl and my bubble is permeable. I do, however,  feel protected and apart from the insects when I have it on. They are everywhere and I would be constantly distressed and distracted if I didn’t have it to wear. Nobody else wears one. (Well, Charlie wore his bug pants a few days ago, but his bug top is still neatly stowed in his pannier). And people look at me a little oddly. But I don’t care. We will never see each other again.  Here is a picture of a sprucebug.    I saw it floating in the air before me and was horrified when we collided. (Probably the bug was thinking the same thing.) Anyway, I did as instructed and peeled it away from my netting by its antenna. Neither of us was the worse for wear. It layed there, stunned and traumatized as I hovered above it equally immobilized until I snapped out of it and snapped this pic.  

The pavement was challenging. With all the frost and upheavals, the roadways have been paved, cracked and repaired numerous times. Bubump…..bubump……bubump.bubump, bubump………………..bubump, bubump……..      That’s what much of our ride was like today. There were also long stretches where road crews had scrapped off the top surface of pavement in preparation for repaving. That can make for challenging riding too. Shoulder widths were narrow, and in some sections  the rumble strips had been imprinted directly right of the white line, forcing us to ride to the left on the road. The shoulder to the far right was irregularity deep gravel and as every cyclist knows, when forced to ditch under those conditions, all control is surrendered. Nonetheless, we bailed to the right on many occasions today when there was oncoming traffic and trucks or other vehicles trying to pass us.                  

From Hearst  on there are many small communities and towns, spaced every 15-20 km apart. Some are just groupings of 3 or 4 houses, some more developed with corner stores, churches and schools. I’ve noticed that many of the houses up north have little huts at the end of the driveways. I have wondered what they are there for and I haven’t asked anyone yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were to shelter children as they wait for the school bus. That’s only a guess.

There are a lot of lovely wild flowers on the sides of the road, like these. Everything is green and lush because of all the rain this year.  

Arriving in Kapuskasing mid-afternoon gave us the chance to do one of the things we seem to be enjoying more and more often lately and that is retreating to Tim Hortons. This time we both had steeped tea and chatted with some of the  locals. We also did a bit of blogging and were totally immersed in that when a man came by. He was wearing cycling gloves and was very excited to meet fellow cyclists. He told us that he had done some very long rides, like from Kapuskasing to the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco and all across the deserts in the USA in the summer. He, Omer,      said he never realized at the time that he,  travelling secondary highways and thus, often isolated, could have died. He left but returned about 20 min later with some newspaper articles he had photocopied for us. On his return from one of his long solo cycling trips where he rode for 15 hours a day, ate one meal and slept in a hammock, the local newspaper had interviewed him.  There are several other articles as well. We haven’t read them yet in full but we look forward to doing so.

Kapuskasing is heavily involved in the pulp and paper industry as well as mining. Here is a picture of water coming from the pulp and paper factory.  

Our home- away -from -home tonight is in a cheese factory on the far east aspect of Kapuskasing.  Francios,     our host is 28 years old and the proprietor of this business. He is originally from Kapuskasing, and his parents and siblings help him out at times and he also employs 2 full-time and 2 or 3 part time people. Francois travelled extensively in Europe and China and it was while he was in China and missing cheese, that he considered getting into cheese making himself. He told us that when he returned to Canada he went to about 30 different artisan cheese makers in Quebec to learn what he could from them and he also studied at Haute Savoie, near Geneva and then again in France to learn how to make goat cheese.  Not just a man with great hair and a cheesy smile, Francois has also played competitive chess and spent 2 years circulating amongst Ontario schools to teach chess.                        

When we arrived he had prepared a beautiful salad,  .    a large plate of his beautiful cheeses,     bread and grapes. Of course we dove into it, but neither of us could do it the justice it deserved. We had just had a picnic of sandwiches, kale and potato salad in front of the grocery store. About 2 years ago he bought the building he now lives in and converted most of it into the cheese factory. We asked if he would give us a tour but it involved a lot of gowning up and hair nets, foot coverings, etc, that we decided not to do it. Instead, he showed us what he could through windows      and showed us a book of photographs that depict the entire process and we listened with great interest as he spoke. The building is perfect for this business.    It has a wide circular driveway and plenty of room for parking. It’s Spanish in style, wide, spacious and artsy. And it’s right on the highway, which allows for great access. He has only been in business for a few years and already grocery chains are asking him to supply their stores. Each cheese is named for a local river or lake. This cheese factory is going to do very well. It has a young, educated, dedicated and inspired owner who is not afraid to put in the time and work to make it successful. (He’s up at 4am and in bed by 8pm every night and puts in up to 120 hours of work per week. Plus, and this is the bottom line really……. his cheeses are yummy!!!