Mississauga to near Mono Cliffs PP: In honour of my first day, I wrote a bad haiku

September 12, 2016

My alarm intrudes
reshaping 5:30 dreams
the traffic will wait

Ah, early morning on my first day. My sleepy mind is filled with visions of blue skies, crisp fall air, glorious foliage, mirrored lakes unmarred by development, and roads that exist only for me. A benevolent gravity that permits me to glide gracefully uphill on perfectly smooth pavement, while each evening my tailwind gives way to calm air as I enjoy an awe-inspiring sunset from my picturesque, bear-free campsite.

Oh yeah, the bears. I almost forgot about them, along with ticks, poison ivy, my health or lack thereof, drunk hunters, and traffic. I read somewhere that bears perceive humans as other bears and I suspect the driver-cyclist dynamic is similar: drivers identify cyclists not as people (ie. fleshy and vulnerable) but as other drivers (ie. enemies in steel armour, but small and therefore easily vanquished). So if drivers view me as a car, then logically I should view cars as... bears?

The problem with that is while humans can usually intimidate black bears, cyclists can't intimidate drivers. The average Southern Ontario driver, found in abundance in Toronto's suburbs, believes that cyclists either belong on the sidewalks or are apparations. It would be better to avoid the urban areas entirely.

However, this morning I woke up in Mississauga, which has the dubious distinction of being the North America's largest suburb (if you don't count Mexico, and you really can't, because Mississauga deserves to be recognized for something), and I have to get out of here somehow.

Which brings me to Mississauga Road, my most direct route out of the madness of suburbia. A few kilometres of minor sketchiness, then two major highway interchanges, then a tranquil rural road as it slips neatly between Georgetown and Brampton. Nothing can go wrong with that, right?

When I submitted my plan to Google Maps for approval (I know, I know), it refused to route me along Mississauga road. It did everything it could send me on the most tortuous, impossible-to-follow routes through the heart of the Greater Toronto Area. After asking Google some rude and unhelpful questions, I checked Street View and discovered the problem: the tranquil rural road is now a major thoroughfare. Apparently that happened overnight, or as close to overnight as a Canadian road construction project can happen.

I decided to take it anyway, which meant leaving early--7:00 am on a weekday is too late. It's a truck route, a jumble of noise, traffic, construction, commercial buildings gradually giving way to endless suburbs, a repeating pattern of pointed roofs as far as the eye can see. Here and there, an intermittent multi-use path, sometimes blocked by turbaned men in flowing clothes below flowing beards, out for a morning stroll.

Traffic improved past Bovaird, then I turned east on Wanless and north on Creditview; these last two have paths and even more houses being built.

Among the sea of new home construction stands one old rural survivor.

Across Mayfield, there was a Welcome to Caledon sign and no more houses. Brampton has expanded right to its borders. Suddenly, I was in a different world, a world of cornfields and the sound of birds, hardly any traffic, trees by the road--mostly maples, their leaves dying from drought. Crispy and brown, they won't be turning red this year. The road was smooth and had a paved shoulder.

This is milkweed, food for monarch butterflies. It's not supposed to look this unhealthy. I saw many of the large orange butterfies fluttering their way toward Mexico.

Caledon was hilly and steep, which is when I discovered something was wrong with my gears and got to experience the pain of climbing a steep hill in a high gear. Unfortunately for me, there were many steep hills.

The Niagara Escarpment looming in the distance

I stopped at the Cheltenham Badlands, which aren't a natural feature, but were caused by poor farming practices. The best part is the site is now closed because people were causing erosion. They're debating the best way to preserve it. Seriously.

The Cheltenham Badlands: preservation of environmental destruction

See the beer bottle? I would love to know what the stakes of that bet were.

After the badlands, there was a long downhill that made me feel really bad because I was going to have to climb right back up again. The hill kept going down and my regret for my plan kept going up. The plan was to ride along Forks of the Credit Road, and it ended up not being so bad.

Sure, I had to push my bike up the STEEP hairpin turn--trucks and buses aren't even allowed on the road--but it was a fun, twisty road and even followed the river for a short distance.

I stopped for lunch at Forks of the Credit Provincial Park, but was reduced to sitting on a bridge in the sun. All the interesting trails were closed for safety and I couldn't get anywhere near the water. Disappointed, I didn't linger.

When I reached Alton I stopped at the general store for water. The soft-spoken, unsmiling man asked where I was headed, then informed me that my route had nothing to do with Lake Ontario. He also said the maples weren't dying, but rather change colour earlier further south, which is pretty much the opposite of what happens, so I don't put much stock in his assessment of my route.

Traffic picked up closer to Orangeville, but the road had a paved shoulder so all was well. Everything after Brampton was far removed from the Southern Ontario nightmare roads I had read about. It was pleasant riding, and so I was feeling pretty good even after climbing the Niagara Escarpment once or twice.

Shortly before Alton, I had seen a sign saying 13 km to Orangeville. I couldn't believe it, even with the more manageable terrain after climbing the escarpment it seemed way too fast. But with all the closures, I was actually making great time and lingered in Orangeville, first taking in some dry-looking wetlands, then blocking traffic on my way uphill into downtown. There was nothing interesting downtown, so I blocked traffic on my way back down the hill and killed some time biking through a conservation area.

Island Lake Conservation Area. A much better route than the road.

I didn't want to take the main road out of Orangeville, but when I got to the side road shown on my map, it had a no exit sign. I tried it anyway, and became increasingly alarmed as the gravel road descended and got steeper, then started climbing at some ridiculous gradient I couldn't even try to bike. So I pushed the bike up, taking a few breaks along the way, and was very relieved to find the road kept going.

At one point, a yellow school bus passed me, kids staring out the windows at me, then when it was a ways up the road I heard a beeping--the bus was backing up, coming toward me. It was still backing up when it reached me, so I got off the road, and watched it continue. Then I realized the driver had forgotten to drop off a child, had a good laugh, and went off in search of my Warmshowers hosts' place, where my sleep deprived self tried to chat with my warm and helpful hosts. I'm not sure how coherent I was.

Today's ride: 81 km (50 miles)
Total: 81 km (50 miles)

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