Buffalo to Lincoln: Think outside the pannier

October 22, 2016

It was as windy as they said it would be. I crossed the border early, thus completing my conquest of New York (take that, Empire State!), and Ontario was so unhappy to see me it tried to blow me right back to New York.

The crossing itself was fine, if a bit confusing. You have to walk your bike across the Peace Bridge, and once you get close to the bridge on the US side, there will be signs directing you. Most of the confusion happens on the Canadian side, after the friendly border official in one of the vehicle lanes--because the pedestrian inspection office appears to be mostly closed--hands back your passport.

The obvious way to proceed is forward, which took me to the tollbooths under a sign saying Queen Elizabeth Way. The QEW is a major highway, not a place for bicycles. I had to ask someone, who directed me to double back to the left of the building to the right of the inspection lanes, where I found a road leading to a roundabout, which led to the water. I got there eventually.

The waterfront route eventually turns into a proper path, but for the first portion it's mainly on road, though often service roads. On the service roads, all the walkers and joggers smiled and greeted me. It was weird.

There were many roadside parking areas with picnic tables, though apparently no washrooms until just before Niagara Falls, and I stopped at one of these and was sending a text when a car pulled up.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yup, fine."

"Okay, just making sure you're okay."

Yes, it was windy and gloomy. And yes, the wind was cold enough that I started shivering when I stopped. And yes, I was the only one in sight with a bicycle full of luggage. But really, how terrible do I look when touring that a simple break makes me look like I'm in serious trouble? Or was this Canadian culture shock?

A short while later, another car pulled into the parking area. I was happy to see that one. I pulled some clothes, toiletries, and food out of my panniers, and threw the panniers and all my camping gear into the car. I wouldn't be needing any of that crap the next three days, and without it, I could turn an impossible route in this weather into an almost enjoyable one. (Cue smugness.)

I had decided to send my excess luggage in the mail from Fort Erie or Niagara Falls, but on a whim sent a mostly-joking email asking if my hosts felt like taking a trip down to Niagara Falls on Saturday.

The unexpected reply was, "Yes, we can do that."

Really?? I was going to mail everything.

"We don't get out much."

My remaining gear strapped to my rear rack in a couple of stuff sacks, I hoped it wouldn't rain too much and set off again.

I stopped after about ten seconds: I realized I had left my pump, spare tube, tire levers, and multi-tool in my pannier. Oops. I frantically waved down the car, retrieved those things, and set off again, feeling slightly less smug the second time.

The difference was incredible. It was cold, cloudy, windy, and I was miserable because of the weather, but I was moving into headwinds and crosswinds without too much effort. And once I left the path and rode on busy roads, the other advantage of losing my panniers became evident: I could control the bike in wind gusts and didn't have to worry about being blown around in traffic.

The big disadvantage was I became invisible in the sense that I no longer looked like a touring cyclist. Nobody talked to me, nobody offered me food, nobody even waved at me.

Niagara Falls was, predictably, full of people.

The majestic Niagara Falls. Apparently there's a little waterfall somewhere around here, too.

I admired the vast, churning, rushing, mesmerizing stretch of rapids above the falls, then plunged into the crowds. People, hotels, shopping, casinos, tourist traps, more people. So much built up around a bit of falling water. I wondered how different this border would be if there was a normal river splitting the two countries. I wondered how different the area around the falls would be if there was no international border here.

The sun came out for 10 seconds. Not long enough to get a photo of light hitting the trees on the Niagara Parkway.

And I moved on. Close to Niagara-on-the-Lake, the path started getting congested. Screw this, I don't have time. I abruptly turned inland and was happy to find the road had shoulders. There was a lot of traffic, a lot of wineries, the occasional whiff of wine. Biking was tougher from here, either because I was heading more into the wind or because I was more exposed to it. But I was making decent time and was tired rather than exhausted, plus the sun came out a tiny bit so I was warmer, too. I think my panniers' days are numbered...

Bike route signs took me right through St. Catharines, so that was easy. On the way out of the city, there was a bridge, a fairly small one. It was under construction, so the lanes were narrow. There was a sign, No Passing Cyclists on Bridge. There was a second sign, Do Not Pass Cyclists on Bridge. Oh, they're serious about this. Good, because I bet the wind is really gusty on the bridge. I'm gonna ride right down the centre of the lane.

It didn't help. The cars, despite oncoming traffic, passed me anyway. All of them. Welcome to Southern Ontario.

I definitely don't have enough gears for this one

All you need to know about St. Catharines. If there's a part of town that's thriving, I didn't see it.

Today's ride: 97 km (60 miles)
Total: 2,416 km (1,500 miles)

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