June 12, 2016
I'm not allowed to be here!: I've been to Iran!
The next day it rained. Lightly for most of the day, at least, although we had a headwind and the road was busier somehow, so it was not a great day. There were lots of lakes, lakes everywhere, and most of the traffic seemed to be fishermen. Almost every other vehicle was towing a boat behind it.
Come early afternoon the rain became heavier and we hurried to get to Nester Falls where we sought shelter at the first opportunity, in a supermarket amongst a row of fishing shops just outside town. We made it just in time, as the rain began to lash down and thunder rumbled and lightning flashed.
| Heart | 1 | Comment | 0 | Link |
| Heart | 4 | Comment | 0 | Link |
After an hour or so the rain eased again, but we knew, thanks to Vivian’s I-phone, (which was useful sometimes) that more heavy rain was on the way. We could only make it another fifteen kilometres before the dark clouds rolled in again, but that was enough time for us to meet two extremely interesting cycle tourists coming the other way. I’m not sure I remember their names correctly, but I think the taller, thinner one was named Austin Healy, and the other, slightly odd looking one, we’ll call Bryan. They were from Michigan, from which they had begun cycling just two weeks earlier, although they were at the beginning of a journey of a year and a half. I was jealous - they still clearly had the excited buzz that being at the beginning of a long trip brings, with the anticipation of all that lay ahead of them. But I was also seriously impressed, particularly with Bryan, because he revealed that he had built the bikes himself. And by that I don’t mean that he’d stuck the components together, but that he had actually built the bikes himself, including the frames. “I had to learn to weld” he said, modestly, whilst hitching his trousers up too high like Simon Cowell.
They looked like extraordinary characters, these two strange guys. How I would have loved to roll along with them for a few days. They were definitely doing things a different way. They didn’t even have a tent, just hammocks, that they planned to string up between trees to sleep each night. “Yeah, good luck with that in the prairies,” I joked. I wanted to ask more, but the dark clouds were looking menacing once more. Austin Healy looked at his futuristic watch and said something about the atmospheric pressure that made us all panic, and with regrettably hurried goodbyes we left these two cool cats to continue their own madcap adventures.
| Heart | 3 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Vivian and I hurried to find a place to pitch our tents and soon located a suitable spot on an abandoned little track. I raced around and got my tent up just in time before the rain came down again. Vivian, I’m sorry to say, was not so lucky. I fell asleep to the sound of the rain hammering down upon my tent. And Vivian on the phone.
Several hours later I was awoken by a loud shrill whistle. It was dark. The rain had stopped. It was the middle of the night. “Chris!” Vivian shrieked, “There is an animal! It’s blowing its horn. I think it’s calling other animals!” It seemed as if the poor girl was having terrible visions of all of the animals of the wood ganging up on us in the darkness. She gave another blast on her whistle. I sighed. I felt so tired, and didn’t greatly appreciate being woken up at such an hour for this. I remained lying down and listened for some time. I couldn’t hear anything, except, maybe a frog. I rolled over and went back to sleep.
Vivian got up early to start cycling. I was tired (I wonder why) and took my time, so she set off without me, hopefully in the right direction. She had probably an hour and a half start on me by the time I finally dragged myself up and back out onto the road. It was a cloudy morning, but that was alright because there were no flies. Sadly, however, the road was busy with trucks now for some reason. After about twenty kilometres I came to a turn where I could get off this road and take small back roads. It was by far my better option. But what about Vivian? She definitely would have stayed on the main road rather than take these small roads, and she’d probably sit and wait for me somewhere, but not forever. This was my only chance to get off the highways in all of Ontario, and I decided that I had to take it. I resolved to go fast to Fort Frances, so that I could use wifi to contact Vivian there so that we could reunite.
It was the right decision. The empty back roads were simply wonderful, just amazing. With no traffic to worry about I put on some music and raced fast and loved it. With farmed fields and sporadic forest it reminded me of cycling in Europe, and I was happy and excited that I would be back there soon. I zigzagged my way along on a mix of paved and good gravel roads until I reached Fort Frances, with 80 kilometres ridden by 2:30 pm.
I headed for the library and got online to locate my sidekick. She was still some way away and so I went down to the river in town and looked across to the far bank while I waited. This river marked the border, and across the water I was looking at the forbidden fruit of the United States of America. With an Iranian stamp in my passport I was not allowed to enter of course, so I settled for just watching it from the safety of the Canadian side.
As I was staring longingly across the water a car pulled up next to the bench upon which I sat, and a woman leaned out of the window and, as if to prove the point that you never know what might happen to you whilst cycle touring, cried out to me “Hey, you, do you want to go dragon boat racing?”
The answer to this unexpected question was obviously yes, but unfortunately I had to go and meet up with Vivian now back at the library. So when I got there I asked Vivian “Hey, you, do you want to go dragon boat racing?” and to my great joy she said that she did. We hurried back to the river and found the woman, along with two dozen other adults, putting on life jackets and preparing to get into two long thin boats. We were enthusiastically welcomed, and invited to join in.
I had never done dragon boat racing before and I was very eager to try. Unfortunately I did not get the chance. This was just a training session for them, and despite my constant hints we never got to actually race against the other boat. Instead we went up and down the river in our boat stroking our paddles down through the water in unison as a girl stood at the back counting. Annoyingly Vivian and I were sitting in the seats right in front of her, and she insisted on constantly correcting our strokes, particularly mine, which was apparently unusually poor. This wasn’t much fun at all. I hadn’t signed up for this. I just wanted to race. But alas, the only moment of real drama came when we drifted over to the American side of the river and I had to cry “I’m not allowed to be here! I’ve been to Iran!”
After about an hour of being drilled at the art of the correct dragon boat stroke it was finally over and we could return to the safety of the Canadian bank. My upper body was aching from the unexpected workout and I was hot from the exertions, so I flopped into the river for a lazy swim. When I got out I discovered that Vivian had worked her magic on one of the other dragon boaters, and secured us a place to sleep for the night.
So we walked our bikes back with our new host, a young and strikingly beautiful Quebecan lawyer named Francine. She was very kind to us, and we enjoyed a nice dinner together, and with a shower and a bed for the night I was very happy. Vivian and Francine got on particularly well, with Vivian being very impressed that Francine was a successful lawyer despite only being about the same age as us. Whilst I was also very impressed by that, I was less impressed when she told us her favourite cases were drink drivers, because it was relatively easy to find legal loopholes to get them off. Saddened, I thought again about our drunken friend back in Banff, the drink driving accident in Mongolia flitted briefly in my mind, then I bit my tongue, and I left them to their girly chats over a bottle of wine and retired to bed early.
Sunday 12th June - 75km
Monday 13th June - 90km
Today's ride: 165 km (102 miles)
Total: 52,006 km (32,296 miles)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 4 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |