The race is still on: Just three days to catch the boat

July 21, 2016

I was out like a light and slept great for a whole five hours. I was really very happy sleeping, I really was. But then my old nemesis, daylight, returned and it was time to get up and get back on the bike. I didn't really want to but I was just a few days away from being on a ship where I could relax and sleep all day if I wanted to.

I passed through Oromocto without really noticing it because I was still on bike paths, but as I went further the trail deteriorated in quality until it was basically unrideable thanks to rocks and puddles. I gave up on it and switched to a parallel road which was much better, before changing again, this time to the main highway, Highway #2. So far as I could tell cycling was perfectly legal on the very wide shoulder of this highway, there were no signs saying otherwise at the entry points, and as it was the quickest and most direct route I decided to just follow it for the rest of my time in New Brunswick. It was slightly amusing though to come to a big bridge over the river and see a sign saying that there was no cycling allowed on the bridge. This was a particularly silly sign because there was absolutely nowhere else for a cyclist to go at the point they reach the sign - there is no footpath, no way to exit the highway and there's a big concrete central divide making a U-turn impossible. I carried on quickly, praying no police car would come at the wrong moment, and the bridge was actually perfectly safe as the shoulder continued across it.

I tried to persevere with the bike path, I really did. But come on!

Hmm, you don't leave me many options. Perhaps you expect me to jump over onto the grass verge and then swim across the river?

It was very hot and I was exhausted, but I just kept on keeping on, all day cycling on the shoulder of the highway. At one exciting point I spotted a mother moose with two calves taking a bath in a lake, but as they were behind the fence designed to keep wildlife off the highway I once again felt separated from the nature even as the road continued through a large area of wilderness. It was still the highlight of an otherwise unremarkable day.

The next day continued in much the same way. I now reasoned that if I stuck to the highway another three 100 kilometre days would be enough to have me on the outskirts of Halifax, and there were still four days until my boat was scheduled to depart for England. That meant I could relax a little, and I'd still make it to Halifax in time to have a shave. My beard was now completely out of control. I really now looked like a wild man, as I cycled along stroking it, constantly checking it for peanut butter. Not having shaved or cut my hair for almost three months I was absolutely looking like one who had been travelling around the world, and I could think of no better way to return to England after such a long absence. But, on the other hand, I thought they may not let me on the ferry looking as I did, and I did not want to scare my young niece and nephew when they saw me again, so I decided I needed to leave room in the schedule for shaving in Halifax. And buying new shoes.

The highlight of another mostly uneventful day came when I stopped to take a break at a huge motorway services. I sat outside on a bench and tried to use the wifi while a guy in a kilt played the bagpipes next to me. He was busking, and was doing quite well as the services were very busy and people were throwing a fair amount of money at him. After a while he paused from playing and we had a little chat. Turned out he was Canadian, and busking for travel money, as he was planning to soon head off to Australia to live and work. He was a friendly fellow and, knowing a thing or two about living and working in Australia, I told him of my experiences and gave him what advice I could. At some point, and I'm afraid I can't remember how, we got to talking about bats. I told him that the bats in Australia are huge. That we had bats come and hang from the trees right opposite our balcony, and we'd watch them eating the fruits.

"Oh yeah," he said, "Like wombats?"

He had a bit to learn.

I continued on the highway all day long, completely bypassing Moncton in the process, until I arrived in a place called Sackville, close to the border with my final province of Nova Scotia. With my map of New Brunswick no use to me there I sought out the information centre and got myself a map of Nova Scotia. They also had a computer in there that I could use to access google maps and take a look at what I was up against. I'd planned to stay on the main highway, as I'd been doing, in order to get to Halifax as quickly as possible, but that was a plan that had to change when I took a look at the highways on street view. No shoulders.

That meant I had to plan a longer route on smaller roads. Perhaps it would be more interesting cycling, but the extra distance meant I was once again up against the clock. With just three days to catch the boat, it was time for another big day!

Approaching Nova Scotia, my 8th and final province

Thursday 21st July - 134km

Friday 22nd July - 95km

Today's ride: 229 km (142 miles)
Total: 55,435 km (34,425 miles)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	4
Comment on this entry	Comment	0