July 17, 2015
Where Have All the Shoulders Gone......: Day 45 - Echo Bay to Blind River Ontario
I can't imagine 1300 km's of this. No, or crappy, shoulders, heavy semi-truck traffic with headwinds and drizzling rain.
Thirteen hundred km's is the distance from Kenora to Sault St Marie on Ontario highway 17. We rode almost the same distance on Ontario highway 71 and then Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan highways 53, 7, 2 and 28 and had a wonderful time. Ontario can't do anything about the winds and rain but the Trans Canada highway sucks. As bad as Manitoba, and cyclists get killed on roads like this. The Class A sphincters who also decide the bikes aren't vehicles and pass against a solid line, forcing oncoming vehicle traffic, i.e. us, onto the soft gravel shoulders, don't help matters either. There were two of these today. In my book that constitutes dangerous driving and they should have their licences revoked. If only I had a helmet cam! or, in the immortal words of Bruce Cockburn 'if I had a rocket launcher..."
I'm not trying to be negative, I'm just telling it as I see it.
There were some good parts to the day. Samosa's. Mennonite farms. Lots of things named Bruce. A great breakfast. A friendly and dry hotel at the end of the day..
Whew, now that my road rant is over I'll focus on the good stuff.
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The day started really well. A good nights sleep and an excellent breakfast at the Silence and Serenit B&B. The morning was cool as we set off down hwy 17b.
Within a few km's this merged into the main hwy 17, four lanes, divided but with no paved shoulder for most of it. Oh, and it started to rain.
I'm supposed to be on good stuff, so fast forward to Bruce Mines, the first sizeable town (population 500) that we come to.
For those who may not know this, we have a remote command centre in Quito Ecuador, manned by by my good friend Bruce. He's been sending us daily road reports and route recommendations which we really appreciate.
A couple of days ago though we got a message asking if we had taken a picture of Bruce Crossing. We had not and I felt a pang of guilt. No worries though as there are a lot of Bruce things coming up (remember that this place was settled by Scots primarily).
A few km's before we got to the town we had seen road signs indicating that there would be horse drawn carriages and wagons on the highway. Sure enough we see a wagon with two horses and two Mennonite men coming our way. It's pissing rain so just a wave, no time for pics. A few minutes later we're coming past a turn off into a farm. Coming out is a Mennonite woman in a carriage. We come to a stop, smile and wave, woman smiles and waves back. I ask if it's ok if I take her picture, she nods yes. I unclip my iPhone and try to take a picture. It's still pissing rain. Touch screens inside a water proof case don't work in the rain. Mennonite woman trots her horse across the highway and is gone. 21st century cyclist is madly swiping and wiping his "phone" to get it to respond.
Lesson learned. Horses work in the rain. iPhones do not.
When we get to Bruce Mines a few minutes later they have a very lovely entry sign. It deserved a picture in and of itself, but also for our trusty command centre manager. Here it is
It was still raining pretty good, and we were still getting massive wind spray from the passing semi's so we decided we'd take a break and get a HOT drink inside somewhere.
Coming into town there were two gas stations, a Shell on our side of the road, and an Esso on the other side. Both had restaurants, but the Esso had a sign saying "Indian Buffe" (somehow they lost the t).
Yesterday, one of our conversations ended up with both of us wanting to go for an Indian meal. For me in particular a Chaat curry (chick peas). So it was no choice really, across the road and into the restaurant we went.
As usual we were the tourist attraction, big strange bike, brightly coloured tight fitting clothes, and a puddle following behind us.
Turns out the Buffe didn't start until 3 pm but there was a full Indian menu to order from. We didn't think we were that hungry but a bowl of soup of the day and a large plate of veg samosas and, get this, Alu chaat Marsala (potato and chick peas in a great medium hot Marsala sauce with lots of fresh cilantro). It was great, and not just because we were wet and miserable.
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While we were having what turned out to be our lunch, the rain also lightened up into a light drizzle. At least the road spray would be less, and my phone/camera touch screen wood work. Good thing too because as we were leaving the parking lot another Mennonite wagon came by and I got a picture. It's not as idyllic as the women with the farm in the background, but it is rather interesting, and a little heart warming to see people very happily living what we could consider to be a very old fashioned lifestyle.
Even though the rain had lightened up, we still had 70 km to ride on what was now a two lane highway, with no or very limited shoulders, and the same heavy traffic volume. Put your head down, concentrate on the white line and be prepared to hit the ditch for the next 4'hours. Oh joy.
Given the crappy weather, we had made a motel reservation in Blind River, our destination for the day, when we had stopped for lunch. This gave us a bit of peace of mind knowing that if we made it through these 70 km's we would be warm and dry. About halfway through we came across this little inspirational (to me!) sign:
A little while later the sky lifted, the road dried out, and for the last 10 km into Blind River we had some decent shoulder to ride. There was even some nice scenery that we could take in.
We checked into the very pleasent motel (Lakeside Inn) with a friendly owner, got cleaned up and went for what turned out to be a great dinner, one of the best of the trip, at Pier 17 Restaurant. Highly recommended if you are in Blind River.
A good finish to what was otherwise a trying day.
Song of the day:
Road to Hell by Chris Rhea
"This ain't no technological breakdown,
Oh no, this is the road, this is the road .... To hell"
Not implying that Blind River is hell, nothing of the sort, but when your riding 5 hours in rain on a 10 cm line with several tons of metal flying past you, it's hard not to think you are on that road. I kept looking for the sign for the river Styk.
It also dawned on me that if the Mennonite lady in the wagon had electrical power, and a modem and Internet connection, and a Spotify account, she may have been listening to this song today too, and if she had, these lines would have been going through her head when she saw me fumbling with my wet phone/plastic brick.
Historical monument of the day:
Can't really call this a monument, but seeing the traditional Mennonite folks (who moved to this area from southern Ontario around 2007) living a lifestyle that only our grandparents would remotely recognise was very interesting and thought provoking. We'll see where that leads over the next few days.
Last day on the Prairie Slayer tomorrow. We'll be meeting up with our friend Brent and hanging out with him and his family just outside Sudbury, playing around in the water a little, and then we'll be back on our single bikes heading for the Bruce Penisula and southern Ontario.
Today's ride: 114 km (71 miles)
Total: 4,654 km (2,890 miles)
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