Newerfoundlog

[Cosmic ChrisC]

Yep, I am lovin' these also, Todd! I've been wanting to go to Newfoundland for so long now, and it looks like you're convincing Ollie for me! Thank you bye!

[peipunk]

You guys are suckers, Todd actually writes all his logs from the patio of Irene's.

[ollie]

You guys are suckers, Todd actually writes all his logs from the patio of Irene's.

:clapclap:

[Schwa.]

I heard he writes them ahead of time.

[questcequecest?]

I heard he writes them ahead of time.

Only by a half-hour; he's on Newfie time!

Thanks for the great reads, Velvet. Cheers!

[Esau.]

Thanks for the great read Todd, sounds like a great time that's for sure.

I can't believe more people don't come here.

I was lucky to be able to live there for a year (81-82) while my father was working in Bishop's Falls at the hydro generator station on the Exploits river - we lived in Grand Falls-Windsor (Windsor side). My father stayed there until about 87 or so, working awhile on the beginning cycles of production for the Hibernia oil rig. Last time I was there was 1991 after my little brothers wedding for 2 weeks of fishing and reading all this makes me want to return.

Thanks again for taking time to post. Safe journeys.

[rubberdinghy]

I heard he writes them ahead of time.

:hail:

[edger]

Absolutely LOVE the rock. So vast, stark, timeless. Unfortunately haven't explored the west at all though, or the far north. Hopefully in due time. Thanks for sharing a little piece of paradise with us.

[Velvet]

Stardate 082310

I did miss last call last night. In a bid to save money I just stayed in the tent lightening my load of whiskey and coke until 11:30. I went around and the place was closed up though I was told they were open 'til midnight. Ah well, back to the tent for a good nights rest.

In the morning I was the fist one at the restaurant for breakfast. Had a big plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and hash browns, and the first non-instant coffee of the trip. I noticed the wind inexplicably blowing my way so I packed up and got on the road as soon as I could, 10am. Off in search of Fortune, I was.

There was a light breeze at my back that sometimes approached a good little gust, and the difference that makes to, well everything, is almost beyond measure. The sky was cloudy and the road was reasonably flat, in that the hills were at least doable, and I made good time. I kept my legs pumping for the first hour and-a-half solid and got 30kms. By 12:30 I was having lunch in Marystown, the chili deal at the only Tim Horton's on the Burin Peninsula.

I stopped in at the very helpful info booth in town and seeing the flags crackling in my direction I hit the road again. The highway turned west across the peninsula and took the wind out of my sails a bit, though the wind was almost never completely in my face the whole day. The last hour or two Mother Nature gave me that beautiful push again and I cruised along the rim of the ocean, arriving in Fortune (pop. 1969) shortly after 4pm, having averaged almost 20kms/hr. The sun even poked it's way through the clouds and made for a nice afternoon.

That felt nice, and gave me a little bit of confidence back. I think I actually work harder when the wind isn't in my face; I power up hills that I might otherwise give up on and go into low gear.

I stopped for a beer at the store and found the campground. Pretty spartan but it's only $10, and there's a bathroom and showers and I sorely needed both.

I relaxed with my beer first, then set up the tent. I dumped all the gear inside and set off down a hiking trail, a big short-cut to the wharf, though there's a twenty-three step staircase along the way.

I ran some errands – looked into ferry info and arranged to leave some bags in storage. Found the laundry machines on the wharf and sped back to camp. I had a glorious shower and took my dirty clothes in my basket back over that trail, back up those twenty-three steps. Put in the wash and went for a chicken dinner. Came back and waited forever for the dryer to get my stuff almost dry.

I passed the time watching the various goings-ons at the dock. A pair of wives were seeing their husbands off as they set of with four others in a fishing boat. A forklift was buzzing around loading a ship with cargo. There are plenty of boats docked here and they are all working vessels. A man walked by and said to me, “Nice evening, Skipper.†I bet salt water runs in their blood 'round here.

Suddenly a fire truck came and backed up onto the wharf. Another fire station vehicle pulls up and like clowns coming out of the car at the circus, about twenty firemen come bounding out the back of it and race down the dock to where the truck waits. Behind me the dryer tumbled while in front of me a couple dozen firefighters were frantically running hoses and screaming instructions. The jeans were taking forever, I can't believe I brought jeans on a bike trip.

The firemen had four hoses pounding the water on all sides of one of the larger boats moored to the dock. They may have been using that anti-flammable foam or perhaps the force of the water was making it look that way. I could see that there is an awful lot of things to be done and a lot of organisation involved in a firetruck operation, as this was all happening not twenty feet in front of me. As the damn dryer kept not drying the jeans I noticed there weren't really any other bystanders around. The wives were gone, and that forklift didn't seem to be around either. I didn't even pack the jeans, I was just wearing them when I got to North Sydney and I was too rushed to change.

Finally the cycle ended. The stuff wasn't dry but I wasn't going to put in another buck, that was for sure. I folded the stuff up quick and on my way out came upon a firefighter. “Training,†he said. Oh.

Just as I arrived back at the tent with my chores done it started to rain. The sun was just going down anyway so I suppose I'll turn in. Big day tomorrow.

Stats:

Time: 5:41.06

Distance: 106.04

Average speed: 18.6

Top speed: 52.4

Total distance: 389.7

[backbacon]

Thanks Velvet. Your travelogs are a real treat. Keep 'em coming!

[jay sanislo]

Thanks for sharing!

[Velvet]

Stardate 082410

I slept long and deep. My legs were a bit wobbly when I woke up, it was quite a workout getting here yesterday. I wasted little time after getting up, heading to buy my ferry ticket early this morning. Back at the tent I divvied up my stuff into need it and leave it, packed up accordingly and biked, doen the road and not the trail, to the ferry terminal. Looked around to find Fred, then Harold, who agreed to store my bags behind a door in his bakery just up from the dock. My gear will smell delicious when I pick it up.

Question: What country lies directly south of Newfoundland?

Answer: France. France?

For reasons I hope to discover soon, France owns a small series of islands just off Newfoundland's Burin Peninsula called St. Pierre and Miquelon, though there are more than just two islands. I am on the ferry over right now, along with about 25 other passengers, again, no cars. Just the one bicycle.

Where the ferries along the south coast were dirt cheap, and obviously subsidised, this ferry is not. $107 return for the seventy minute journey, though this ferry is much faster than those along the outports, and it's much more of a passsenger-friendly boat. There is no deck for cargo, just plenty of benches and a small duty-free shop, which is more of a closet. The closet has a fridge and cold beers though, so I'm comfy.

We saw a whale off the starboard side, a big one but quite a ways off. Halfway through the crossing we came upon a smaller minke whale, who was happy to swim alongside the boat, not twenty feet from my window, surfacing every thirty seconds or so. He stayed with us for a couple of minutes, cool critter, and a nice little bonus on such an expensive journey.

St. Pierre is certainly very French. Of course there is the language, the street signs, the money, and the cars (mostly Fiats, Peugots, that sort of thing), but then there are the people. They act different and they look different. I guess geography only counts for so much.

This is by for the biggest metropolis I've seen on this trip, with more then 5,000 people living here. The streets are narrow and wind up and down the hilly town past cute little houses painted every colour of the rainbow; perhaps that's a bit of Newfoundland influence. Every once in a while you'll see a four-wheeler ATV cruise by, I noticed they are licensed for street driving. I saw one go all the way down the road doing a wheelie, so I guess there's some Newfie blood over here.

I did a ride around and found a nice place to camp up the hill by Lac Pain et Sucre, across from a soccer pitch. I opted to wait for evening to set up the tent and cruised back down the hill. I found a bar with some little round tables on the sidewalk and ordered a beer. In no time I met Kram (with a backwards “Kâ€, his nickname was embroidered on his belt) and Morgan, both very French, both very fun, and both born right here in St. Pierre. These are the kind of guys that shake your hand hard and often – I'm sure you know the type. Kram moved to Paris for a year and missed St. Pierre too much to stay, while Morgan has only been off the island once, for a wedding in Newfoundland. They are both chest-thumping proud (literally) of their heritage.

Soon a couple from St. John's joined us, Dennis and Lori were on a spontaneous vacation and will be here several days. Both Kram and Morgan bought me a few drinks, and Dennis and Lori had brought their own wine from around the corner. I nicked over for a cheap bottle of red with a screw top for drinking at the tent later, though it ended up getting drunk (as did we all) on the sidewalk. At about 9pm Lori and Dennis and I went for a mediocre expensive meal (things are a bit pricey here) after a quick stop at their hotel.

A bit more drinking and some sloppy mandolin playing and I headed up the hill. Pitched my tent in the dark (again, sloppily) and crawled in. Dennis had given me a half-bottle of wine to take with me, but I tore half the cork off trying to get in to it. I started to push it through and realised I was drunk enoughn and just went to sleep.

Nice country, this France.

[Davey Boy 2.0]

sounds like you got droopsy in snide your tent

[ollie]

These are the details I love:

Looked around to find Fred, then Harold, who agreed to store my bags behind a door in his bakery just up from the dock.

So, no border crossing into "France"?

[mister slippery]

sounds like you got droopsy in snide your tent

:clapclap:

As always, and as many have said already, thanks for this, Todd. Excellent as always, and makes me want to visit.

For all you do, we thank you.

Edited August 25, 2010 by Guest
punk 2 asian

[Velvet]

Oh yes, you cross customs both directions, hence the requirement for baggage storage in Fortune.

[Velvet]

Stardate 082510

Woke up early and packed everything up. With my bike lightened up (left two paniers in Fortune) I planned some sight-seeing before the 2:30 ferry and after hitting the public washrooms for some freshening up I stopped by the info booth for some wi-fi.

It was there that I noticed my camera was missing. I unpacked everything and it was nowhere to be seen. Great. I remembered that I had foolishly had it in my bike basket last night while we were in the restaurant and someone must have nicked it. I tore back up the hill to the campsite and it wasn't there. The info booth didn't have it, so I started the rounds toi look for it. My first stop was Hotel Robert, where I've been getting my coffees and where Dennis and Lori were staying.

I walked in and there they were having breakfast. “Hi!†I say. “Your camera is in our room,†was the answer. I had no recollection whatsoever of bringing it up to the room, but there it was. Relieved, I started an abbreviated day of seeing the sights.

I started with the museum, though I saw all I needed in the foyer, which was good as they closed for lunch in ten minutes. In the foyer is the guillotine that was orchestrated the only beheading in North America. The extensive story was there, and though the criminal brutally murdered a fisherman for the most frivolous of reasons, it was the man who agreed to be executioner that was ostracized and forced to move away. The murderer became a bit of a hero, with the street of his execution renamed in his honour.

After that I visited the cemetery (fitting), and found the tombs very reminiscent of those in Paris (of course). A pretty spot on top of the hill, I spent a half-hour or so before having some lunch back at the Hotel Robert. After lunch I had some time for one more boot around town before I stopped at the public washrooms, changed into my biking clothes and went to the dock to wait for the ferry.

Stats for running errands in Fortune and zipping around St. Pierre:

Time: 2:27.47

Distance: 27.23

Average speed: 11.0

Top speed: 32.3

Total distance: 417.0

The ferry was a little busier today than yesterday, not quite twice as many people. I napped and relaxed my way across in preparation for an afternoon of cycling.

I had, and continue to have some decisions to make regarding the rest of the journey. I had one more mission planned but will likely forego that for a future trip. There is an option whereby I could take the bike on a bus and be at the ferry to come home tomorrow, or I could bike it to Argentia, a little over 300kms. The thing is, I don't view this as a cycling trip per se, as I rode across the Rock before. Rather, the bike is along for convenience to get me from one boat to another. That said, I'm here, why not just keep biking and catch the ferry Saturday? A couple of reasons actually: most of the next three days will be backtracking from this trip or travelling the same route I did last time; very little new ground, and I do loath to backtrack when I can avoid it. Also, if I was on tomorrow's ferry I'd have a week at home off with nothing but R&R until work starts up in earnest after Labour Day.

The trick is trying to keep any element of laziness out of the decision making process, but it's sometimes difficult to distinguish between logic and lazy when the wind is in your face.

Anyway, after arriving late and taking extra time to cross due to choppy water, I made my way through customs by 4:30pm or so and found the Canadian flag snapping soundly in my direction. That made today's decision a whole lot easier. I recovered my contraband and loaded up the bike, aimed north by 5pm with a solid 25-30km wind at my back.

Though the ride was relatively easy and quite short up to Frenchman's Cove Provincial Park, I sweated like a squeezed sponge. It was a beautiful sunny day and I could resist trying to go as fast as I could. Frankly, I was also interested in getting off the road before the moose come out in full force, which is an hour or so before sunset (and sunrise). It was all backtrack until the turnoff to Frenchman's Cove, which is another pretty little town that has a store and a restaurant. Backtracking is lame. Oh, there's that again. And that. Next will be... Remember you get lots of time to think on a bike!

The park is very nice, well serviced and clean. My site has a nice view of the water and I'm close to the wonderful hot showers. Just like Burgeo, it was $15. The girl that checked me in asked all kinds of questions about the biking and how long it takes and such, and when I asked her how far it was to Marystown she said, “About fifteen minutes.â€

Uh-huh. That would have to be some wind!

Speaking of that, I'm concerned about tomorrow. It looks like it's around 140kms past nothingnothingnothing to get to where I want to camp tomorrow, and I'm not sure I can make it. I'm finally rid of all that rye and the pack is overall a bit lighter, but unless I get blessed with wind like today I think it would be a bit much for me. I can always camp at the side of the road, but really, that's usually the least fun part of a trip like this. Unless of course you come across the right spot at the right time, which doesn't happen that often. Oh, here's a perfect spot by a lake but it's only 2:30.

Three times now I've had people stop and ask if I want a ride, twice while I was literally pedaling along, plus another dozen or people who have stopped while I take a break to ask if I'm all right. There's a chance if someone offers me a ride tomorrow I'd take it. Of course it would have to be the right ride at the right time! Anyways, we'll see.

The one good thing about this backtrack is a chance to stop in at Halfway Restaurant again for lunch tomorrow. For tonight's menu, it's campers beef stroganoff boil-in-a-bag. I'll close my eyes and think of that night in St. Petersburg, Russia.

I just accidentally deleted the stats from Fortune to here. It was about 40kms in about an hour-and-a-half, averaging about 23.3. I was interested to see the top speed; the fastest I dared look down was 54. God bless that wind!

Goodnight.

[Freak By Night]

The extensive story was there, and though the criminal brutally murdered a fisherman for the most frivolous of reasons, it was the man who agreed to be executioner that was ostracized and forced to move away. The murderer became a bit of a hero, with the street of his execution renamed in his honour.

This story was beautifully recounted in the movie "The Widow of St. Pierre".

Awesome tales of your travels, Velvet. Love to see some of your pictures too.

[Davey Boy 2.0]

I been travellin' awhile now, from place to place

No-one to compete with, I'm setting the pace

Not sure if I should return to that ol' rat race

but it's difficult to distinguish logic from lazy

with the wind in your face

Edited August 26, 2010 by Guest
should/wise

[Cosmic ChrisC]

Oh yeah, St-Pierre and Miquelon...I'd have to go there if I go to Newfoundland!! Never been to "France" and this would be a cheap way to do it.

Work feels sucky when I read your posts!!

[elemeno]

pop a wheelie for me brah!

[elemeno]

[Velvet]

Stardate 082610

I ate dinner last night as the full moon rose up above the water. It was quite beautiful, and of course quite buggy, so after dinner I did most of my moon watching from inside my tent. Here I sit a hundred and some kilometres north watching the sun set from the safety of my tent again. The bugs outside trying to get to my flesh make it sound like it's raining.

I set the alarm for 7am but it didn't go off. I woke at 7:01 (I'm weird that way) and snooze-alarmed myself until 7:30. I had a ways to try and go and I wanted an early start. Hot cereal and a granola bar for breakfast, one last take advantage of real bathroom facilities, pack jujp and wheels are rolling by 8:30 past the loveliest little coastline you could start your day with.

Of course it didn't hurt that the sun was shining and the wind was favouring my direction. I made it to the Tim Horton's in Marystown for a coffee and doughnut before 10am, though between Timmys and revisiting the Info booth I didn't carry on until close to 11am. I realise now that was the kicker. I should have skipped the Info booth altogether; I wasn't getting info, I was just resting. Anyways.

I booted it pretty hard all day, though I was fully aware I wasn't going to get the camping spot in Swift Current. With the weather as favourable as it was, I think it's possible I could have pushed myself to do it, but I got some pretty serious leg cramps after the ride to Burgeo, only the second or third time that's ever happened, and I want to avoid it if I can. As I type this I can feel it threatening in my right leg. I gave myself a little massage, hopefully that, and my regular anti-flammatory pill will help.

Speaking of that, the neck and the arm are pretty much back on track, say around 97% flexibility. The elimination of that pain is very, very appreciated. I only have enough pills for two and-a-half more days, but hopefully it's all worked out in there.

I've been using the same bike helmet since I got my bike, and it's shot. I've sweated the lining right out of it, and now sweat drips down into my eyes and blinds me as I travel along. I keep a handkerchief at the ready for wipedowns, but it has become unavoidable. If I see a Canadian Tire or anything I might just buy a new helmet.

Today a young kid rode by on a super-motorcycle. Ten minutes later he came back the other way doing about 125kms/hr and when he sees me he pops a wheelie all the way down down the highway. What an idiot. I've seen no other cyclist on this trip yet, but a lot of the motorcyclists give me the biker wave; you know, hand down, palm open. I don't wave back. You guys want badass? Take your bike and your gear up these hills with an engine. Right hand get tired much on that throttle? I'll show you badass. Watch me slug this tank up this hill like a slave building the pyramids, that's badass.

Stopped at Midway Restaurant (I think I referred to it as “Halfway†before) for a big, great meal and some wi-fi. Got talking to a trucker there about a camping spot somewhere before Swift Current He knew of none. The food is good but it's not fast, plus I lingered with the laptop plugged in the wall charging up, so I lost over an hour there.

Finally at 3:30 I made it to the Bay L'Argent turnoff, where I had gotten on this road heading south, when was that, Sunday? Finally it was no longer backtracking. The wind was slight but still my way so I trucked on as hard as I dared and ate up the scenery.

I really like Newfoundland. I just can't get over the geography of the place, and then you throw in hands-down the friendliest people in the world and the place becomes irresistible. As the afternoon wore on I started to get worn out. Then around 5pm, with an impossible 45kms yet to get to Swift Current a truck stops as I'm taking a break. Not a pickup (which comprises 80% of the traffic), but a big truck, a salt truck, and the driver gets out. Hey, it's the guy from the restaurant!

“I can get ya ta Swiff Curnt purty quick if you wants ta throw your bike in the back.â€

Well now, isn't that nice! Nice and tempting. As we chatted I could feel the wind drying the sweat that was rolling down my back and with all the amazing ponds and scenery I'd been passing, I declined, with many, many thanks. We talked a bit more right there on the side of the highway and then we both departed, both of us chugging up the hill we had stopped on in our own way. That was a difficult decision. I was tired man, I mean tired.

I pulled off at a couple of spots before I found one I liked. Nice view of a smallish pond with a small sandy beach. There's a firepit and a bit of trash so I suppose stopping here isn't unheard of. As mentioned, the blackflies were ridiculous so I stashed the food down the road and got the tent set up as soon as I could.

No dinner tonight, those camping meals smell strong and good, and with a windy night that smell might travel far. I'm no bear expert, but not cooking that kind of meal will make me worry much less. The trucker told me he once saw a bear in Swift Current, which I figure is about 35kms further down the road. If there's anywhere to eat in Swift Current I'll have lunch there.

The stats:

Time: 6:01.04

Distance: 112.94

Average speed: 18.7

Top speed: 55.2

Total distance: 572.0

Woah. A huge orange moon is rising right now out of the pond beside my tent. It's really, really amazing. Time to turn the computer off.

[Velvet]

Stardate 082710

The astute reader may have noted that I have been extremely lucky with the weather on this trip. Sunny days are the norm with not a drop of rain outside of a few times while I slept. As the rain and the tent-shaking wind woke me this morning I counted. I've been in Newfoundland...let's see now, eleven, twelve...this is day number thirteen!

And what a day of ups and downs it was.

The rain had been on and off all night, so I laid there until I heard it stop, got up and packed fast (nobody likes to pack up camp in the rain), and skipping any sort of breakfast in my rush to get moving I strapped on my water-resistant show covers (with built-in Sure Slip bottoms) and set off at 9am, headed northeast.

The day could be described only as blustery. The gusts of wind were mainly at my side, and depending on how the road turned I would get a bit of a push or a bit of resistance here and there. Going down hills was dangerous because the wind felt like it could sometimes blow me over sideways, and the faster I went the less stable I felt.

There was a slight mist in the air that caused me to stop and clear my glasses occasionally, but given my luck with the rain so far I didn't really mind so much. Plus I only have today and tomorrow left before the ferry on Saturday, and I only had about 160kms to go, two shortish days.

After about an hour the wind had done a fair job of drying the road and I made the mistake of taking off my rain gear. When will I learn that every time I do that it starts raining? It wasn't a downpour, but it was way past misty, though the road had turned enough to give me pretty good wind. I had also noticed a bit of tension in my arm, which reminded me to take my morning pill.

I was feeling pretty good two hours in. The rain had slowed, I had made it 35kms and was just about to Swift Current, where I hoped to find a restaurant for as big of a breakfast as I could find on the menu – I was starved. Taking a little break on the side of the road to wipe my head and my glasses I turned away from the road to have a little pee.

Oh my.

Blood in my urine. It looked like red wine coming out of there and it freaked me out. I've never had this before. I immediately deduced that it had to do with the biking, especially coming off such a hard ride yesterday. Well, that's it, I have to get to a doctor and find out if something is seriously wrong. And I can't go riding the bike anymore, that's for sure.

As I said, I was almost to Swift Current, which is a tiny dot on the map only notable because it's the first dot on the map you come to after 95kms of nothing from Marystown. And being almost to Swift Current means I was on the side of the road. Alone. Little traffic in either direction, few options. I rested a while and with no other choice rode on. In very short order I came to a place that rents cabins. I checked in to check out my options.

I found out that there was no restaurants, let alone hospital or medical clinic in Swift Current. Closest hospital would be Clarenville, over 50kms away, much of it in the wrong direction. There was a hospital in Whitburn, which would put me only about 50kms from the ferry, but Whitburn was 100kms away. There were no taxis and the only bus went by at 9am daily towards town (aka St. John's). “There might be a bus from Whitmore to Argentia where you get the ferry, but I'm not sure.†Well, it looked like I had to take my chances; stay here at the resort ($100 a night), take the bus to Whitmore in the morning, see the doctor and try to get to the ferry from there. “I'm sorry dear, we're all booked up for the night.†Damn. Looks like I'm not so badass after all.

The very last thing I wanted to do was hop back on the bike for a long haul. I would just feel like an idiot if I hurt myself for nothing more than biking to the ferry on the Trans-Canada. The meat and potatoes of this trip is over – to see the outports, and bringing the bike was more a matter of convenience than anything else. I've biked across Newfoundland before, if I had been looking specifically for a bike trip I would have gone somewhere new, so there's no pride in forcing myself to do something that may be causing damage. And there I stood in front of the lady at the cabin resort without a clue what to do.

Well, I guess I had to try my luck with hitch-hiking. I thanked the lady and placed myself strategically before the resort so people would have a place to pull over to pick me up. I stood there with the bike and waited. After five minutes two pickup trucks had gone by my outstretched thumb and I almost gave up. No, give it at least ten non-car vehicles. And whattya know, the next guy stopped.

Art is an elevator repairman on his way back to St. John's from Marystown. I explained the difficulty and he said he could take me to Whitburn no trouble. We squeezed the bike and the gear in the back with all his elevator tools and off we went, solution found. Did you know that elevators use more energy going down than coming up? Art told me if there was only one or two people in an elevator during a complete failure, they would go up, not down. The counter-balance weighs 40% more than the elevator itself.

I learned that and much more during the hour or so I was in the van. When there was a lull in conversation Art would start singing Newfie songs, only half to himself. We stopped at a place for gas that had a sign saying “World's Best Sandwiches†and I (still starving remember) offered to buy a coffee and sandwich for Art. He declined. I almost got myself one but really, eating in someone's vehicle when you're hitch-hiking is just bad form. I know I smelled like a hockey bag in April so I kept my window cracked the whole time.

It occurred to me during the drive that I had taken both last night's and this morning's anti-flammatory pills without eating. I was instructed to take them with food as they would irritate (ie burn) the stomach. Perhaps that's what the problem was.

In Whitburn of course Art drove me right to the hospital door, and in less than a half-hour I was seeing the doctor. I was scared to death of what I would see when I had to give a urine sample but was pleased to sea I had gone from red wine to unsteeped tea. The lab did their tests and the doctor told me it was likely a combination of the pills and the physical workout. “This is a fairly common athletic injury,†he explained. “I had it myself once from swimming. No pills or biking for a few days, and get some rest.†So, after 42 years of stumbling clumsily around this planet I finally manage to get my first athletic injury! I feel like I should get a ribbon.

Next to the hospital was a small cafe/restaurant/beauty salon/travel agency. The lady interrupted someones perm to call her husband, he runs the cafe. I had a club sandwich and fries and sat talking to the guy for quite a while. He was quite the historian and told me all about Whitburn; how it was the first inland colony in Newfoundland, how it was the train hub when the railroads came in, and how the former Prime Minister of Newfoundland was buried there near his mansion. He also told me of a short-cut to the Argentia highway, down a trail that used to be the train tracks (there went Whitburn's economy) and it would save me about 8-10kms.

Well, that would make it about 40kms to the ferry, with a campground in the middle, and of course going to the ocean would mean mostly downhill grades. Though the doctor said no biking, 20kms today and 25 tomorrow is basically no biking. If I take it really, really easy I don't think it would be so bad.

So, after resting up a half-hour at the cabin place, an hour or more with Art in the van, another hour at the hospital and close to an hour at lunch, I felt rested enough to bike for an hour. The trail was a pretty bumpy start but I found the overpass, got up there and headed south. The wind was pretty strong against me but I took it cool and got to the campground by 5pm or so. Not to continue with vulgar medical problems, but my pee got yellower all the time, so I don't think I did myself any harm.

I took the instruction to rest straight to heart. I pitched my tent and laid down in it at 6pm. I fell asleep around 7pm and was awoken by partying campers a few hours later. I considered getting up to see if there was fun about but decided to stay put in the end and slept until past 7am. My body is tired, but my soul is strong.

The stats (about 35kms pre-ride, about 15kms after, with about 100kms in the van):

Time: 3:01.43

Distance: 51.31

Average speed: 16.9

Top speed: 52.9

Total distance: 623.4

[Velvet]

Stardate 082810

It's a pretty little campground I woke up in, the tent sites anyway. I had a very lounge-y morning, this being my last wakeup on the Rock. I relaxed and made a camp breakfast (spinach cheese omelet with sausage – not so successful), and was generally lackadaisical about packing up. Last night a guy told me it was only 18kms to the ferry but I think otherwise – I thought it was 25-28 (it turned out to be 26kms).

It was another beautiful day outside, the sun was shining like there was no tomorrow. I made my way up to the comfort station and had a nice long shower, shaved and got as clean as I could. Back at the campsite I organised my paniers so my cleanest ferry-clothes were on top, and at the very easy-going time of high noon, I set off for the final jaunt down these hills to the ferry terminal in Argentia.

As I was bucking doctor's orders to some degree in biking at all I took it real, real slow. A dozen kilometres down the road was the tiny town of Dunville. I stopped at half of their variety stores and ate a sub and a bag of chips in front of it. A lazy hour went by before I moved on again. It's like I wasn't even biking at all. My symptom from yesterday is gone. I haven't taken the pills since and I attribute the whole problem to taking them without food. Like I could get an athletic injury.

I stopped at the info booth for some internetting and ended up there almost an hour and-a-half. Finally I hopped on the two-wheeled machine and cruised down the final three kilometres to the ferry. I met a trio of cyclists who are just at the end of a cross-Canada trip; sixty days exactly, averaging 135kms a day, two and-a-half days off in the whole trip. A guy on a bike and another guy and his 14 year old daughter on a tandem. The four of us traded stories while we watched about twenty porpoises play in the harbour in front of us.

This was very different than my last trip to Newfoundland. Before was a biking trip through-and-though. This was a chance to explore a unique sort of community that is in danger of extinction. I would recommend to one and all to get to the outports on Newfoundland's south coast. You won't see anything like it and the people could truly be no kinder. I don't recommend to everybody to bike it, especially down that Burgeo Highway, but driving to Sandbanks Provincial Park and carerying on from there is totally do-able for anyone, and it would be a trip you won't soon forget.

And cheap too. If you're camping there's nothing to spend your money on. If you're staying at B&B's it'll cost a bit – I heard around $80 and up per person (double occupancy), all meals included. The trip to St. Pierre was interesting, but I'm not sure if I would recommend it, given the cost. It wasn't that expensive, but for the price of the boat it might be worth it to stay several days and get over to Miquelon. They have somewhat randomly scheduled ferries and zodiacs going to the bigger island to see the wild horses. As an overnighter it seemed slightly lacking, though now that I think about it I had a hell of a fun night.

The ferry is a bit late so we'll be off late as well. The crossing from this side is significantly longer,m about fifteen hours, and priced accordingly. A guy and his bike is about $130. I'll see about a beer or two in the lounge where there should be a live band playing the same songs as ever, and find a seat to snore in. I'm looking forward to putting the bike in the back of my vehicle and driving through Cape Breton again tomorrow, then a night at my mom's house and I'll be on my way back home.

I accidentally erased the stats again, though I know I hit at least 56kms/hr at one point today. The final mileage is 649.9. Let's just say 650kms by the time I pull onto the boat.

Thanks for reading everyone.