June 20, 2016
A very dangerous highway: That wasn't that dangerous
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Soon Lakeshore Drive came to an end and I had to join the Trans Canada Highway north for 70 or 80 kilometres to Nipigon, on a section of road I knew had a reputation for being notoriously difficult and dangerous for cycling. It was the only road, so not only did all cyclists have to take it, but all other traffic too, including a large number of 18-wheelers, motorhomes, superwide pick-ups and everything else. Rather alarming then, to find that it was just a regular narrow road with one lane in each direction and no central divide.
Except that it really wasn’t dangerous at all! Not for me, anyway, because there was a wide gravel shoulder that was quite alright for cycling on. I cycled on the asphalt road when I could, because of course it was smoother and faster, but whenever I saw a vehicle coming behind me in my mirror at the same time as one heading the other way, I moved over onto the gravel to let them pass. The surface was quite compact enough that I could transition between the road and the gravel quite easily, and I felt really rather safe.
Frankly speaking, I find the most alarming thing about this road is the number of cyclists who cycle out in the road without feeling the need to move over onto the shoulder. I later saw a photo posted online by the Canadian Coasters of this road. One of them was merrily cycling out in the road as a truck overtook, with a pick-up coming the other way forced to swerve off over onto the gravel on the other side of the road to avoid a head-on. Yes, technically the cyclist has a right to be in the road, but in this case standing up for the right of way may be suicidal - this is a major highway, do cyclists really imagine huge trucks are going to slow to 15 kilometres an hour and wait for a safe moment to pass? The highway reminded me of the highways in Russia, where such cyclists certainly would not survive very long. Reminds me of the old epitaph:
'Here lies the body of William Jay
Who died maintaining his right of way -
He was right, dead right, as he sped along,
But he's just as dead as if he were wrong.'
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Anyway, after an uneventful, relatively safe cycle up to Nipigon I decided to head east on the #17 highway when it split in two. I had originally planned to go on the more northern route, the #11 highway, but I’d changed my mind after hearing from Frank that almost all of the truckers took that route. The #17 had a bad reputation for being dangerous for cycling because of the lack of paved shoulders, but for a man happy to use gravel shoulders, that was not a problem. In any case, Frank had also reassured me that the reputation was not deserved, and it was actually not an especially busy road, as all the truck traffic went the other way.
The route also took me along the northern shore of Lake Superior, occasionally offering great views as the road climbed and fell over a disheartening number of big hills. The next day I had my sights firmly set on getting to the town of Schreiber to watch England play Slovakia and I made it thanks to my steely resolve and a favourable tailwind. Sadly my resolve was not matched by the England football players and the game was hardly worth watching, especially as I did so using the wifi outside of a gas station and me and my laptop got periodically pummelled by strong wind and rain.
After the game, and with the weather much better, I cycled on to Terrace Bay, stopping at Aguasana Falls on the way. These were definitely not top twenty material, but my visit to them was enhanced by meeting an extraordinarily strange and friendly man named Vern, who was very impressed by my trip.
Terrace Bay was a nice enough little town, and offered an interesting break as I went to explore the local lighthouse, curiously positioned in the middle of town. It was set up for tourists and I went in alone and climbed the steps to look out on a magnificent view of a gas station. I thought it rather a cruel trick to put it here in the middle of town, just close enough to the lake to entice ships to wreck on the promenade perhaps.
It was late. I went on, looking for somewhere to camp. There was a lot of forest of course, but it was too thick to get into. I took a turn off the road that led to a clearing. It was good for the tent, but there was a chance that I could be disturbed by a car pulling in here in the night, so I followed a track into the forest to look for something better. The muddy track was lined with thick vegetation on both sides, and there was nowhere to get in, so I went on and on, deeper and deeper into the woods. I’d noticed some animal tracks in the muddy trails - moose perhaps, something like a coyote - but further on I came across some much larger prints. Undoubtedly they belonged to a bear. A pretty big bear at that. They were going in the same direction that I was headed, and they looked freshly made. This is the kind of thing that makes me a little nervous. I decided that taking my chances on a car coming into the clearing wasn’t such a bad idea after all, and I quickly retreated as fast as I could to camp there instead.
Sunday 19th June - 99km
Monday 20th June - 119km
Today's ride: 218 km (135 miles)
Total: 52,632 km (32,684 miles)
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