Newfoundlog

[Velvet]

Newfoundlog, Stardate 080505

The plan was hatched months ago; take a bicycle to Newfoundland for three weeks and see what you can see. The plan combined my lifetime love of going for a bike ride with my strong desire to go to the only province I have yet to visit. So I bought a map. And aside from spending the summer 'training' on my bike, up until a few days ago that was all the planning I had done. Let's just say this week was a bit stressed; buying camping gear, planning a route, booking my ferry crossings, getting bike gear, packing...

So I ended up leaving a day late. Big deal, this is a vacation.

Thursday morning at 7:30am I start driving east. It was a good seven hours or so before I realised I had forgotten my helmet. It's not a big deal - it's a cheap helmet and I can stop and get another (after all, my head is my most striking feature), but I got unreasonably furious. I punched the steering wheel several times inadvertently honking needlessly at innocents, and I begged them to retaliate. I swore for about 170 kilometres (though in my defense, I was speeding). Okay now, no biggie, you're making good time and you can still stop and have dinner with your mom on the way and make it to the mall...barely.

My folks live in Moncton and though my dad was gonna be outta town the plan was for me to stop at a predetermined restaurant just off the highway and call mom's cell phone, she would be camping 20 minutes away and come meet me. I called - no answer. I called ten minutes later, she's changed the plan, making it impossible for me to meet her and dad (yes, he postponed his trip) and get the helmet and get to North Sydney in time for my ferry. Short story long, a half-hour gets wasted, I manage to take it reasonably well though through gritted teeth, and I head on towards Cape Breton without dinner, without the towel I was gonna borrow, and without the new padded biking pants my mom bought me as a surprise. I called her first thing this morning and we apologised at each other for about ten minutes. In retrospect I'm pretty sure nervousness about this trip was making me weird.

So I made it to North Sydney after stopping for some very unsatisfying fast food and park my car in the long-term parking. Spent forty minutes getting my bike and gear all together and smoking a joint and I head down to wait for the ferry.

Bicycles are first on, and as I'm the only bike, off I go. I took a deep breath and uttered to myself "Here we go" as my only ceremony upon leaving the mainland for my three week sojourn.

I was on the Lief Erikson, apparently the smallest of the Newfoundland ferrys but still an impressive vessel. The berths cost $18 for the dorm and over a hundred for a private room, so I hit the deck. Not a soul in sight I lay down on a bench beneath the moving stars and wrap myself in my sleeping bag and drift off, the cold Atlantic winds impervious to my new bedroll. I awoke in time to watch Canada's first sunrise melt out of the ocean, then rolled over and slept a couple more hours. Got up and bathed myself in the head and hit the deck again to watch Newfoundland grow from a shade to a real-live province right before my eyes.

It doesn't look that hilly.

Did a last minute adjustment on the front brakes and I'm last off the ship. No ceremony this time, only a trial. Of course the first thing is a hill. An up hill. No problemo, up I go, huffing and puffing my bike, my 35lbs of gear, and my 217lbs of self to the crest and then a glorious down.

Within twenty minutes I was already being awed. To my right were the Table Mountains all straight up and flat on the top and all fuzzy green, kinda like the mountain around Cuzco, Peru. To my left the sea and the sporadic fog blended together as to be indistinguishable from one another. The fog was rising onto the shore making it look like the ocean was reaching onto the land in a desperate attempt to save itself from drowning.

Really, that's what it looked like.

A half-hour in and I've made it through a merciful Wreckers Alley. The winds here regularly get up to 160* and has been known to blow trains off the track. I stop for a celebratory roadside doobie, then I dig in. I'm happy to say that the 'training' I did this summer seems to have prepared me well. Going on little nourishment and little rest I outdid my expectations and now I'm left to wonder how I can possibly kill time until I can go to bed.

Today's stats, courtesy of my little Cateye Enduro 8, which I find it hard to keep my eyes off of:

Time**: 4:18.53

Average speed: 21.5

Distance: 92.86

Top speed: 58.0 (don't worry, it wasn't a school zone)

Total trip distance: 92.86

So, given that I need about 80 kilometres a day to do what I wanna do, that's pretty good. I feel okay but pretty tired. I only slept about four or five hours on the ferry.

I just went to write up a list of things I need to buy, but the first thing on the list is a pen. I'll have to take my Alphasmart shopping with me.

So anyway, I'm camped at Crabbs River, I got here around 3:30 this afternoon. It's a pretty spot for the night, though I hoped to see a grocery store before I got here. I saw a couple earlier (though one looked like it was just someone's house), but there were several towns marked on the map so I thought I'd wait. Nada. Some of the towns seem to be just a sign, not a single building or even a road off the highway. I did stop for a nice all-day breakfast special around noon and had a nice conversation with a table of elderly folks, but I'm camped with only cup 'o' soups, so I've had two. I'm sure I will be famished when my body figures out what the hell I put it through today, so I'll sleep soon and miss the stomach growlies.

Big day! Starting in Ottawa Thursday morning, I've driven my car seventeen hundred kilometres, cruised for seven hours through the Atlantic Ocean, and drove my bike almost 93 kilometres, all in thirty and one-half hours.

Tomorrow I'll keep it simple and just stick to the biking.

Even as I lay here listening to the rain bouncing off my tent that mimmicks the sound of frying bacon so well I'm salivating, it doesn't feel like I'm really here.

*all distances are in kilometres or kilometres per hour, obviously.

**I have the Enduro 8 set so it stops when my front wheel stops, so the stats don't include break times.

[Velvet]

Newfoundlog, Stardate 080605

I awoke from a thirteen hour sleep to a glorious blue sky, not a cloud in the world. Showered (I was in a campground), packed up and hit the highway. It was all up for the first kilometre and-a-half, but at the summit I found an Irving gas station/restaurant (Irving owns the east coast) and had the breakfast special. As I waited for my food I grabbed the first section from the local paper, published weekly with two sections. The front page was dedicated to the surprise paper mill closing, which will put 300 people out of work directly, and poses a grave threat to many spinoff industries. The second page was also all about the mill closing. And the third, and the fourth; every page but the back (which featured a story on local theatre) was nothing but stories on the mill. I wonder what was in the paper last week? Paid the bill, grabbed a chocolate bar for the road and off I went.

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep I wondered what the soreness factor wuld be today, and as I pedalled on I was happy to note that I wasn't really sore at all. Then hour two happened, and I realised that my bum was broken. Thankfully my legs were fine, and I was blessed with a significant wind at my back for pretty much the whole day, but boy did my ass hurt. Strangely, it was only really painful when I wasn't sitting on the seat, when I took a break it would be killing me then when I got back on the bike the pain would fade away. Maybe I just got numb-bum when I was riding.

I took an eight kilometre detour to the town of St. Georges, whose claim to fame is "Oldest town in St. Georges Bay" to try and find some groceries. I found a variety store and bought some pasta and some meat sauce, a root beer and a pen. Walked my bike up the enormous hill back to the TCH severely affecting my average speed) and continued my trek.

For the entire ride there has been signs advertising the merits of St. Stephen (or is it Stephenville?), each sign bearing the distance remaining and advertising one of the businesses in St. Stephen. St. Stephen 108km - McDonald's, Stephenville 97km - Irving Big Stop, St.Stephen 81km - Pizza Delight andonandonandon. Thankfully I passed the St. Stephen (or is it Stephenville?) exit this afternoon, now I just have to look at the back of the damn signs on the other side of the road.

There was a car show in St. Stephen (Stephenville?) today, so I was fortunate to have a couple dozen fancy shmancy cars pass by, which was nice.

Hey, let's look at today's stats:

Time: 4:30.21

Average speed: 19.7

Distance: 89.02

Top speed: 66.0 (there is no scenery after 60km/h, only the gray blur of the road in front of you, and the only sound you can hear at 66km/h is a faraway voice screaming for the front tire not to fall off. It's very weird/exhilerating)

Total trip distance: 181.89

So I found myself a nice spot to camp off the highway. There's a little river down there. I pitched the tent and ate my fill of pasta, and now I'm gonna read for an hour and try not to get eaten by bears all night. I'm sure my snoring will scare them off. I literally heard myself snoring four times last night, and it woke me up. Justice, I guess.

[phorbesie]

thanks for posting! it was fun reading those, now i'm going to read them again...

you're funny.

glad the bears haven't found you yet!

[snarfmaster C]

way to go cc! sounds like you're rockin the rock thanks for posting.

keep on

c

[Hux]

Eat a big lobster for me!!!

[Im going home Donny]

Haha! Awesome Todd! Wish I was there! Sounds glorious mon ami!

[StoneMtn]

Todd, man, you rock!

I'm loving your blog and am impressed as hell with your trip. I just told "Lassie" about this and she was pretty impressed too, saying "Sorry, who is doing that; Todd is? Really?!? That's amazing!"

Keep it up brother. I'm waiting for the next blog entry...

[Velvet]

Thanks for the nice words everyone.

I have two more written but they don't have a USB cable here, so they'll have to wait.

[Booche]

"For the entire ride there has been signs advertising the merits of St. Stephen"

Awesome.

Great read, as always. I'll have you know, I am not part of the reason your trip began a day late and I am damn proud of it.

[Ms.Huxtable]

Oh Todd thanks for posting those! I love having a friend I can live vicariously through.

MWAH!

[rubberdinghy]

Man alive....what a great time!?!? Steph, wanna ride around Ottawa and camp for a week?

[Ms.Huxtable]

I'm in Dinghy!

[paisley]

So I ended up leaving a day late. Big deal, this is a vacation.

So wise. So Strong. Velvet for prime minister.

Great stuff bro, love the journey logs you write. Don't you come back hooked on Oxy's now. "Hey dude, one of these'll make your butt feel a whole lot better."

[Northern Wish]

Kick ass Todd!

Keep em coming, I have two Newfs who work for me and I have passed these along to both of them, and they are having a ball reading.

Sean

ps. The next time you are in Moncton and don't call DaveO or I- your broken ass will be the last thing on your mind.....

[Sunshine]

Wow Todd!

Absolutely fantastic!!!

As I read your first few logs it took me back to the way I felt when I packed my backpack and took off for a year! Undescribable.

WAY to TAKE ON Newfoundland!!!!

[rubberdinghy]

I laugh everytime I see the work "NEWFOUNDLOG"

[StoneMtn]

(I just get grossed out picturing what something with that name could look like.)

[PalacePrincess]

okay, you can find DSL and post the other two any time now!

[peipunk]

In the mean time, we might as well carry on with hijacking this thread for our own selfish reasons. I'm sure we can come up with a few other examples on how the word "newfoundlog" could be used in a sentence... here's one:

"Scotty had planned on being at the party by 8, but a newfoundlog delayed his arrival by at least 20 minutes."

or maybe:

"Everybody on the hiking trip was horrified by the intimidating newfoundlog that lay directly in their path."

[StoneMtn]

"...especially after they saw the giant Newfoundlander who left it there, just a little ways up the trail ..."

[Blurry]

You dropped two real nice big Newfoundlogs on us Todd.......thanks! Great reads

[Velvet]

Newfoundlog, Stardate 080705

Slept a good 10+ hours and woke up to another spectacular day. Fished some water from the river and made a little oatmeal breakfast before setting off.

Just as it makes sense to camp by water, it makes sense that water is generally at a geographical low point, thus each day starts with up. Which is okay because I'm obviously rested, but it is a bit demoralising. My legs were a tad sore this morning, but the best cure for that is to keep pedaling.

So I kept pedaling for about 40 clicks and took the turnoff to Cornerbrook. Down down down I went, stopping at a Tim Hortons to cash in an ancient Roll Up The Rim free donut. Mmmm, dutchie. Filled my pockets at the bank machine next door and went down down down some more to the mall, where the lady at the info booth on the highway assured me there was an internet cafe that would be open on Sunday. I dug out my Alphasmart and headed into the mall only to find all the stores closed, including a computer store that looked like the place I was looking for. Dejected, I was on my way out of the mall when I noticed a staircase. Down at the bottom of the stairs was a flower shop/internet cafe! Did my business and went to the grocery store across the street to stock up. Yesterday I drank way too little water so I bought a four litre jug (on sale for $.87). I also grabbed a couple of cans of Chunky soup (on sale for $1.49), a teriyaki noodles 'n sauce, a couple of cans of pasta sauce, a banana, some granola bars and enough salami/cheese/buns for lunch and dinner today. Seven meals, snacks and water for fifteen bucks. As I was attempting to somehow get all this booty attached to my bike I struck up a conversation with an older fella who told me to stay on the waterfront road to avoid going back up the hill to the highway. Bless him. I took his route and stopped along the way for a little picnic lunch at a lookout where you can supposedly see an old man's face in the cliff. I saw a cliff. Can't we just leave it at that? Why do I have to feel I missed something? It was a nice cliff, worthy of a pulloff in it's own right. Ah, well.

A little while along the way I found the liquor store I was needing. Y'see, I have this great camping trick where I stuff all my clothes into my sleeping bag bag to make a pillow, but my new summer sleeping bag comes in a bag highly inadequate for this trick. So I've been using my tent bag to meagre success. Another camping pillow trick of mine involves buying a four litre box of wine. You tear the box away leaving just the plastic bag. Drink from it as much as you want (the more you drink the less you carry - it's about 10lbs full) and at night blow into the nozzle and fill it with air, regardless of how much or little wine there is left. In the morning you let the air out until it's just the remaining vino and voila, an excellent and very durable camping pillow. Even when it's empty it'll last forever.

With nowhere to fit the wine I was left with only the option of bungeeing it to the top of my gear. Now the bike was really heavy, and oh the difference. I was feeling a bit sluggish all day, and wasn't regularly hitting 50km/h like I had been the last two days, so I was surprised when I got all the way to Deer Lake (I was expecting to camp 25km before at Pasadena) and saw that I had an average speed of 23. At Deer Lake I pulled off at a little pulloff on the north end of the lake and watched some men flyfishing. They were standing waist deep in the rumbling water just before what I guess is a dam. Eventually one of the guys got a bite. He played with it for a short while as the fish made three nice jumps, then he put the rod over his shoulder and started walking towards the shore, not even looking back as he towed the fish in. On solid ground he turned his attention to landing his catch. He pulled out an Atlantic salmon, a pretty fish much smaller than it's Pacific counterpart, silver with about a dozen black dots on it's side. "That's too big," I heard one of the men call. Huh? Too big? Turns out you gotta throw them back if they're bigger than 63 centimetres long, 'cuz the big ones spawn better. The fisherman got the hook out of the fish and held it in the shallow water near the shore while some other men that had been watching the guys fish scrambled to find a measuring tape. A man that could have been the fisherman's father was standing next to him with a plastic Irving bag. The fish was really hoping he was gonna be too big, and all the men were hoping otherwise (it looked bigger than 63 centimetres to me). Nobody could find a measuring tape so Mr. plastic Irving bag mumbled "It's not too big, bye," and held out his plastic bag. The fisherman didn't even bother to shrug, he just grabbed a rock and bashed the fish's head twice and put it in the bag. Then they got in two different cars and drove off. I wonder how long he had been trying to catch that fish?

I was thinking of pitching my tent right there. I had gone 90km and I could get breakfast in town in the morning. But the wind was blowing hard in the direction I was headed and I felt pretty good so I decided to carry on.

Mistake.

As soon as I turned off of the TCH towards Gros Morne National Park the wind was forcefully blowing in my face, and it was upupup. The Viking Trail they call it. Oh yeah, I remember talking to a local cyclist when I was having lunch and she warned me that it was pretty steep getting to Gros Morne. I had forgotten. I went about 17km in an hour and ten minutes and I swear it was all up and all against the wind. And me with the bike the heaviest it has been, likely as heavy as it will be this trip. I was trying to get to Big Bonne Bay Pond 'cuz on the map it looks like it might be a good place to camp, but I'll find that out in the morning, 'cuz I found a place to pull off and I took it.

Today's stats:

Time: 5:10.05

Average speed: 20.8

Distance: 107.63 (oh yeah!)

Top speed: 54.5

Total trip distance: 289.52

So it's 8pm and I have the tent pitched. I'm gonna finish up here and have my dinner of salami and cheese buns, read 'til dark and sleep 'til wake, drinking as much wine as possible in the interim. Tomorrow I'll be in Gros Morne, which I've heard great things about. I might take it easy and only do about 50kms tomorrow and really try to take it slow in the park so I can enjoy it as much as possible.

But it's so hard not to go fast.

[Velvet]

Newfoundlog, Stardate 080805

It's amazing that when you're alone in your tent just off the highway in the middle of Bearcountry, Newfoundland every sound you hear sounds like it might be the last sound you hear before there's teeth in your face. I looked around for carnivores and imagined a thousand horrible deaths until I fell asleep, and I found myself safe and sound and well rested (on my new pillow) come eight in the morning, once again with blue skies all around.

I remembered for the first time to apply sunscreen. Ironic.

Because I wasn't camped on water, my day didn't start with up, and though there was a slight wind against me I realised that it takes me a half-hour or so to catch my stride. I stopped for a nice breakfast and started out again just as the sun went away. The wind kicked up nice and strong in my face and it threatened rain. No worries, I had intended to take it easy today anyway, and to stay at a campground so I could shower and do laundry. Struggling like crazy against the headwind I made it to the entrance of Gros Morne National Park. There was a pay phone there so I called my folks and said hi and when the lady in the booth was free I sauntered over. I told her I was thinking of going straight up and through the park, camping around Rocky Harbour or so. She suggested I take the southern route instead and check out the Tablelands, and then I could toss my bike on the water taxi for $6 and make my way to Rocky Harbour from there. I was balking at the idea when she said most cyclists go that way. "There's only one big hill this way," she says. I asked her if there were many big hills on the route I intended to take and her eyes went really big. "The hills that way are crazy," was all she had to say in the first place, but it was nice talking to her.

So I take her advice and hang the next left. Every flag is pointing right at me as I battle the wind. I literally had to pedal hard to get down hills at 17km/h. Then the rain started. It was very light at first, then a steady drizzle. Just as I came to the one big hill I was told I had to face it started to come down pretty good. I rode up as far as I could, which was nowhere, and started walking the bike up this mountain with the rain coming sideways straight at me when a guy in a pickup truck pulls up beside me, asking if I want a lift. Hmmm. Fortunately I was too out of breath to answer right away so I had a moment to think. Well, this is a great oppourtunity to meet the locals innit? "Sure, thanks!" I gasp and then I'm left to try and lift my bike into the bed of the truck. I didn't manage to drink much wine last night so the thing is still remarkably heavy. Turns out the guy is a schoolteacher from upstate New York and he spends all his summers here. He seemed like a really neat guy. I went about 15kms with him, and he beautifully dropped me off at the lookout for the Tablelands, about 7kms away from and (more importantly)about 500 metres above where I would catch my boat. And the rain had stopped, though it looked like it could start again at any moment.

So the Tablelands are the reason Gros Morne made the cut as a World Heritage Site as declared by the United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). The deal is, when the tectonic shifting was happening heralding Pangea, Africa and North America smashed into one another causing Gros Morne to be. The interesting thing is some of the tectonic under-the-ocean rocks got pushed up above ground creating the Tablelands. This is the only place on the planet where these rocks aren't underwater. What they look like is a range of flat orange mountains, which stand out because everywhere else the mountains are green. Hardly any vegetation at all grows on the Tablelands, and the construction workers I was talking to up there told me that the mountains get to be different colours. I spent about forty minutes up there chatting with the three of them. They told me not to worry about bears, about 99% chance I won't even see one. I figured if I didn't leave they'd never get the road fixed, and it badly needs fixing so for the good of Newfoundland I bid the doozers farewell and coasted down to the Interpretation Centre, which is really quite impressive. Bought a couple of postcards (my bike repair guy insisted I send him a postcard) and chilled out in the knowledge that I had just missed the 12:30 boat and would have to wait until 5:30 for the next one. As I was preparing to leave I casually asked the guy at the info counter what time the boat left, just to be sure. "Well, there's one at 1:15 and another at 5:30." "I was told back at the entrance to the park that it was at 12:30! What time is it now?" Strangely the guy had to hit abut nine buttons on his computer before telling me I had ten minutes to catch the water taxi, and it was five kilometres away. "No problem, it's all downhill. How do I get there?" and I flew down the hill stopping at a store for water along the way, arriving at the dock with many minutes to spare.

Again I had to lift the damn bike and put it on the boat. It was just a little craft with a crew of two and about ten passengers, and of course one bicycle. Pretty ride it was too with those orange mountains in the background. It was about fifteen minutes across to Norris Point, and the Cap'n blared clapalong Newfie songs the whole way. I stopped a ways up the hill at a lookout for twenty minutes and then made my way to the visitors centre. Also very impressive with tons of information and displays, I waited until the clerk was free and asked about the campsites. Turned out I would need a park pass if I wanted to stay at any of the park's campgrounds, and the only official park campground that had showers cost $34 (on top of the park pass) to pitch a tent. Turns out I don't need a pass for the private campgrounds and she said there were several at Rocky Harbour.

So here I am, a very short distance day, and my tent is pitched by 2:30. Of course as soon as I got the tent up the clouds cleared to a gorgous sunny day. I asked at the office if they sold single use laundry soap and she says they usually do but nobody's bothered to go get any lately, but they sell it at the Irving, just two kilometres up the hill. Sheesh. I tell her I'm on a bike and those good old Newfoundlanders, she tells me the cleaning lady will be at the laundry building and she has some, tell her Karen says to give me some. A glorious shower, let me repeat that, a glorious shower, and my clothes are clean and I am extremely dedicated to spending the rest of the day drinking as much wine as I can.

Here's today's meagre stats:

Time: 2:50.52

Average speed: 16.6

Distance: 47.14 (of course, add about 15 clicks in the pickup truck)

Top speed: 62.0

Total trip distance: 336.66 (full house!)

So this seems like a very nice campground. It's quite full, mine was the last tent site they had available. There's a little socialising cabin down the way a bit, I think when I'm nice and drunk I'll head down there and see if I can find any trouble.

Tomorrow I'm back on track. Hopefully I'll have drunk enough wine that I can fit the bag in my pack and stop looking like an AA road trip gone wrong. I'll try to get to Bellburns for the night, about 95kms north of here, for secret reasons.

[Velvet]

Newfoundlog, Stardate 080905

I may remember day five for a long time.

I've just had the most incredible biking experience of my life, and I wonder if it will ever get duplicated. I drank myself to sleep last night and got up around 9am. Went for another shower and mooched some shaving cream off a guy for a shave. Made a Chunky soup for breakfast, packed up and started pedaling about 7lbs lighter than yesterday. I was amazed at the difference it made until I realised that I had a 35km/h tailwind.

And it kept up all day, along with a blue, blue sky.

I don't know what I did karmically right to deserve it, but I was in top gear virtually all day. I swear, any time I felt the wind shift direction I would look ahead and see that the road was about to turn that way. My feet rarely felt resistance and never stopped moving. I was in the high thirties on all the flat parts and in the high twenties on most hills. I think the slowest I went all day was about 17km/h. The roads are getting worse so I have to take it easy down the hills. It's tons of fun avoiding potholes at 45km/h. Kinda like a video game, 'cept you only get one life.

Did I mention the scenery?

I started out in the middle of Gros Morne National Park and spend the day heading north along the coastline. The mammoth Atlantic Ocean was to my left all day, beating it's deep blueness into the rocky shoreline. To my right was an endless Bugs Bunny background of trees and mountains. Because it was coastline there were hardly any hills though it felt like I was going downhill all the way.

I was giggling the whole time. It felt like I was on a huge ride at Disneyland. Flying up and down the Viking Trail and rarely breaking a sweat. I kept shaking my head and laughing.

I stopped at The Arches, which is a couple of big chunks of limestone that have big holes eroded into them where the ocean keeps at it, eventually to turn them into pillars, and then nothing, I suppose. Relaxed there for a while and then threw myself back into the wind. At one point I stopped at a whale-watching lookout to smoke a bowl and I could barely get it to burn it was so windy. And all my way.

I cruised right by Bellburns and finally stopped here at River Of Ponds, again at a campground. I had stopped up the road and asked a couple of folks if there were any good places to camp along the road up ahead, and they confirmed what the map suggested, that the highway headed inland now and it was nothing but forest for a stretch. I thought about doing an extra forty clicks, but thought better of it, for fear that my luck with the wind will run out, or that my ass pain would return. Considering I can drink my fill of water and take a bunch with me from the campground cuts the $10 fee in half, really, and it's on a pretty pond. Or is it a river? Oh, it's Pond River.

Check out these stats:

Time: 4:23.25

Average speed: 27.4 (betcha that will stand as a trip record)

Distance: 120.66

Top speed: 53.0

Total trip distance: 457.33

I sit here having serious second thoughts about my decision to stop. Maybe I shoulda rode it out for another hour-and-a-half. If the wind held up I coulda sailed to within easy striking distance of the ferry to Labrador. As it stands I'm about 125kms away from the launch, and the last one tomorrow is 3:30pm. I might just make it up to Shoal Cove tomorrow and take the 1pm ferry on Thursday.

I still have plenty of wine to drink. I'm about halfway through, and I can fit it into my saddlebag now. It's too bad, I was hoping someone would ask about it so I could tell them, "I've got to get this plasma to St. John's right away," and bike off like a madman. Last night I noticed that every time I rolled over the wine that was chilled by the lower evening temperature would splash around the bag and make the pillow cold. Another reason to drink heavily tonight.

I thought I would be ravenous every night, but I've been eating less than usual I think. Today I had that soup and pasta for supper, with two granola bars munched along the way. Two meals has been standard, but I must be burning tons of calories biking four to five hours a day. I think my body is going through changes. Maybe I'm entering health puberty or something. I hope to hell that my voice changes.

[Velvet]

Newfoundlog, Stardate 081005

I wrapped the tarp around the bike extra special last night despite the lovely clear sky. I woke up a few times last night and struggled to get back to sleep; I guess my body wasn't as exhausted as usual. At one point while I was awake it started pouring, but it was only about five minutes before it stopped. When I woke up for good at 8am I lay here and listened as it started to drizzle. Well, here it is an hour later and it's coming down hard out there. I rolled a joint and hope to wait it out a little, only it doesn't look like it will let up.

I'm starting to get deep enough into the province that the accent is getting harder and harder to understand. I asked the lady in the camp office here about the buses from St. Anthony back down to Deer Lake, for it is not my intention to do a 400km backtrack - if I did I would never make it to St. John's. Well, I'm not sure how knowledgeable she is on the bus schedule 'cuz I can barely understand her, but it seems the bus only leaves St. Anthony on Sundays and Wednesdays, which is a shocker to me. I shouldn't be too surprised because I never looked into it beforehand. Whatever, it looks like I'll have to do at least 100kms today regardless of the weather (which is only getting worse).

On my loose information, here's the plan I hatched last night:

Wednesday (today): Get to withing 35kms of the ferry to Labrador (about 110kms)

Thursday: Take ferry to Labrador and get B&B, unload gear and ride 30kms to Point Amour for some sightseeing, find a restaurant and make it back to the B&B.

Friday: Wake up at 6:30, shower and eat and catch the 8am ferry back to Newfoundland. Then work it hard to get to within 30kms of the Viking settlement (about 130kms).

Saturday: Visit Viking settlement and backtrack to the highway. Camp.

Sunday: Get on bus back to Deer Lake so I can continue on from there to St. John's.

What an excellent plan. Boy is it coming down hard out there. Weather be damned, I'll have to start packing up at 10:30 at the latest. There's no damn way I'm coming this far without going to Labrador or seeing the Viking settlement. I really should have gone farther yesterday.

Okay it's now after midnight and let me start by saying I'm in looove with the headlamp thing. I'm just trying out the one I bought now, and it's freakin' great.

So right on schedule I roll another spliff at 10:15 this morning and start packing up at 10:30 for an eleven o'clock departure, come hell and high water. Just as I'm ready to go the rain lets up a litte, but for the next hour I bounce between drizzle and downpour. At one point just as I crested a hill I saw a moose on the road up ahead. I stopped and watched him walk up the side of the road over the next hill. I didn't really know what to do...eventually I shrugged my shoulders and headed off in his direction, though I never saw him again. Finally a restaurant looms and I have my first non-campstove lunch since I've been here. Cheeseburger and fries, of course. It took forever to get my food and to find that the internet wasn't available today, so by the time I left the lodge it had stopped raining.

About five kilometres later I saw a couple of other cyclists on the side of the road. I stopped to say hi and smoke a bowl. They're a young couple from Montreal that have been heading up from St. John's. We chatted and talked about how great yesterday's ride was and I set off again. Stopped and got official bus info and discovered the nature of my communicational difficulties with the locals. For some reason, whenever he people around here refer to south, the call it up, and north is down. Hence, the statement "Oh, the bus heads up every Sunday and then goes down from Cornerbrook on Mondays, then it leaves St. Anthony again on Wednesday and then comes down again on Thursday." Get out your map and figure that one out.

Along the road, which was inland, I started passing piles and piles of lobster traps, stacked in countless rows in clearings beside the highway. At one point I saw another moose inspecting the traps. The road had dried and the wind was again blowing steadily to the north, giving me an easy, fast ride. The highway dipped down to meet to rocky beach and for an hour I passed nothing but ocean and pretty coloured shacks surrounded by lobster traps. It was like pedaling through a postcard. Wizzed past my destination goal and found that the ferry was a good thirty kilometres closer than I thought. I stopped around 4pm at the roadside and waited about forty minutes for Lily and Antione, the couple from Montreal. Finally they came alone and we decided to camp together in St. Barbe, where the ferry is. They wanted a campground because their intention is to leave the bikes here and hitchhike to the Viking settlement before crossing to Labrador. The only ccampground was an RV Centre, literally a gravel parking lot next to the ferry, $7 a tent. We took in the beautiful scenery around the bay and said no thanks. We found a great spot overlooking the water, had dinner together and emptied my pillow and half a bottle of Fireball they had. Nice and drunk we all went to sleep at 1am when it started to rain again. It was a really great night getting to know two really nice people. Not to mention scoring heady couch space for my next Monteal trip.

It's morning now, and it's been raining off and on all night. When I started typing that sentance it wasn't raining, now it is. The ferry is about 500m from here, and I wanna be on the 1pm launch.

It weird to think I'll be in Labrador this afternoon.

The stats:

Time: 4:14.08

Average speed: 24.5

Distance: 103.54

Top speed: 47.5

Total trip distance: 560.88