On the New Brunswick trail: With Stephanie and Gadmo

July 19, 2016

I woke up at first light and was quickly on my way, with a goal of riding a 150 kilometre day to get me back on track. I was surprised by how busy the road out of Edmundston was, even at such an early hour. The people of New Brunswick obviously got up a little earlier than those of Quebec. I was on the old road and there was a bike lane / shoulder for a while, then it rather rudely ended. At this point I switched to the main highway, which turned out to be a very good decision as it had a massive shoulder, and with a nice tailwind I was able to race through the first 40 kilometres. I switched back to the smaller road after stopping for a break in St Leonard, as the shoulder had returned, and it was probably a more direct route on to the next town of Grand Falls. I was following another river now, and on the opposite bank was once again United States territory, this time it was Maine that I cast glances toward as I pedalled.

Making good progress on the main highway...

... then switching back to the smaller road, with the USA in sight again

In Grand Falls I went to the supermarket and bumped into another cycle tourist. This time it was a girl called Stephanie, though she wasn't exactly a solo female cyclist, as she was riding across Canada with her dog. She had the funny-looking Gadmo in a trailer behind her bike. He looked like he was enjoying himself. "Actually," Stephaine said, "He doesn't really like it that much."

"Cheer up Gadmo, it could be worse, at least you're not running alongside"

Stephanie and I went together to the waterfalls that gives Grand Falls its name, and saw that they were, indeed, quite grand.

Some people were zip-lining across the gorge

Gadmo seemed quite pleased to be out of the trailer

And did not seem like he wanted to go back in it when it was time for us to leave

From Grand Falls I knew that there was another multi-purpose trail and we decided to go and find it, as it seemed to offer a chance to ride once again off-road for the next 200 kilometres or so. Sadly it was immediately obvious that it was not going to be in the same league as the bike paths in Quebec. There were bumpy, grassy sections and bumpy, gravel sections and bumpy, rocky sections. It wasn't ideal, especially for poor Gadmo. Stephanie told me about how the other day she had been taking a break and let him run around. Someone had left their car door open, and Gadmo ran over and jumped in the seat.

"Ha ha," I laughed, "I think he's trying to tell you something!"

"Woof. This is not the quickest way to cross Canada. Woof"

We made it to the indecisively named Perth-Andover and went our separate ways. It would have been nice to cycle more with Stephanie and Gadmo, but she wanted to stop soon at a nearby campground. She had to stop at around three in the afternoon every day to give the dog a break. Of course with my schedule I had no choice but to wish them well and pursue my own target.

I continued to persist with the bicycle trail through Perth-Andover, though this was almost my undoing. To say that cycling was not regarded the same way here as it had been in Quebec was quite an understatement. I think Stephanie was the only other cyclist I saw using it all day, which might go someway to explain how I almost got run over. I was going merrily along on the path when a car appeared suddenly from the side of the trail. It was coming out from some sort of yard and turned quickly onto the path. I saw that the driver was only looking to his left, not at me as I was approaching from his right. Presumably he had not expected to see any cyclists on this little used trail, but my goodness he still should have looked both ways. I screamed and dived off the path into the grass just before he could run me over. The irony that the closest I had come to being taken out by a car in all of Canada occurred on a supposedly traffic-free trail was not lost on me. I should have liked very much to give that idiot a piece of my mind, but, having run me into the ditch he then accelerated off at great speed down the path before I had the chance.

Still, I persevered with the trail anyway, as beyond the town it was of sufficiently bad quality that it was unlikely any other cars would use it. I did encounter a few motorbikes though, and some quad bikes, even one or two joggers, but no cyclists. It was a terrible shame. Quebec had done such a fantastic job of converting their old railway lines into great bike paths. Here in New Brunswick, they'd done only half a job, and it just wasn't good enough for anyone to want to make use of it.

I myself did not mind the bumpy surfaces too much, and made it to my target of cycling 150 kilometres after a last couple of hours of mad sprinting. It was late and I had to make do with camping in a disused plot of land between a road and the river, as there were really no other options. I was next to some trees and bushes and, just after I'd got my tent up, I heard an animal rustling about in there. It sounded big and I instantly imagined it to be a bear. I scrambled around, frantically, for my torch. I was genuinely quite scared. I flashed the torchlight around but could see nothing, so I shouted and made noise and told it to go away. I expected it to run away scared, but it did not. Instead I heard it again, closer now. It was not afraid of me. I was in trouble now. I flashed the torch around, desperately now, until finally they settled on a pair of eyes. They belonged to a racoon. I breathed a sigh of relief, and decided that my food and my brand new bright red smokey scented Arkel panniers would be staying safely in my tent for the night.

Today's ride: 154 km (96 miles)
Total: 55,056 km (34,190 miles)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	3
Comment on this entry	Comment	0