Megan's Card

The adage that one should take the road less traveled by does often apply to bicycle touring.  Indeed, I have had days where I have taken that less traveled path and have been repaid with splendid rural scenery, the call of birds, excellent vistas, and peeks into farmsteads and fields.

Today started out that way but ended quite differently.

With the excellent directions provided by my Warmshowers host Connie in Collingwood, I started yesterday on the Collingwood Train Trail, a well-graded pathway for some distance, and ended a long, interesting ride at one of many locks that connect the various lakes in this region north and northeast of Toronto.  Many less traveled roads on this route, with plenty of climbing that is customary with less traveled, meaning less engineered, roadways.  The notion that a straight line on a map might indicate a reasonably level, perhaps slightly rolling terrain is not to be trusted.  We know that what goes up must come down and can look forward to that free spin.  

Typical rolling hills of this area north of Toronto

The long 75-mile day ended camping for free at the Trent-Severn Lock in Kirkwood, Ontario.

Today, I hoped for the same magic.  I selected a route that indeed took me through some excellent country on very low-traveled rural roads, even gravel, to Lindsay, a larger river town with an excellent character as judged by the downtown architecture, with much commercial enterprise active even on this Sunday morning. 

Even some of the rural gravel roads are quite passable
even creating a wonderful "tunnel of trees."

From Lindsay, I planned to get onto the Victoria Rail Trail.  From my research on their website, it was noted that a section of this lengthy trail well north of my intended route was less suitable for bicycling due to heavy ATV use.  I connected with a pleasant paved section in town that changed to smoothly graded and entertained the hope that this trail would be OK. 

It was not.  It soon became a rutted, cobbly route that had way too much ATV traffic on it. I clearly do not have a “gravel bike” that such riders would welcome this kind of challenge.  But with my gear and having been passed by three ATVs in a short, dusty stretch, I was angry.  I had to walk.  I was far enough not to turn back, so I connected with the next possible roadway, Highway 7, the TransCanada Highway, that I thought I had left permanently behind.  Nuts!  I thought that since I traveled it for so long before now, I would just get on and go, and connect with another promising rural route ahead.

I can tolerate Highway 7 if the drivers can show tolerance for me.  The traffic was quite heavy for a Sunday, though not many big trucks. But today, something just got to me, besides the rising heat.  The drivers seemed not to give me the space, squeezing by too closely for my comfort, wave after wave of cars.  A truck came up and seemed to own the road and, rather than slowing, honked for me to get out of the way.

I was done!  With a full-throated expletive yelled, not so much at the truck but at the situation, I turned off the next sideroad and decided I would figure out a different route.  I turned onto the paved Heights Road (not a good omen) and then onto Mt Horeb Road (another bad omen).  At least these were low traveled.  The Hogback Road veered off of Mt Horeb Road and reconnected with Highway 38 farther south, connecting me in the direction I wanted toward the Lake Ontario north coast.  Ominously, there was a small, yellow “not maintained” sign as I headed down a very steep hill, initially OK in terms of condition.  I had to travel some gravel roads before and tolerate them. Obviously, this too, was more of an ATV path, and I just resigned myself to the notion I would just have to walk up this cobbly road until I had a better condition to work with as I did not have to go too far.  Thinking I could have stayed on the Victoria Rail Trail and walked, I was committed now and was more than halfway to Highway 38 when the road veered sharply left off the ridge (the hogback) and back steeply down into the valley.

Walkable, the Hogback was a cobbled challenge!

The problem was this road virtually disappeared in the valley, having been torn up by deep ATV ruts.  I was now closer to the highway, and the notion of turning around persisted, but I thought I could push my bike through this mess and come to better ground ahead.  Instead, I pushed through mud, thickets, ruts, around and through downed trees, all the while being swarmed by mosquitoes.

There is, or rather perhaps was, a road here.
The darkspot is one of several mudholes.

Fully angry with myself at my stupid decision to ignore the little yellow “not maintained” sign, I was stuck and at wit's end, with the Highway audible – so close, yet so far.  It was so bad that not even ATVs had created a path in this last quarter-mile section.   Words cannot properly express the disaster of this situation.

Permit me to divert.  Megan Seltz, my friend and erstwhile University colleague who has supported me on this journey and manages the fundraising website, gave me a card before I left that was to be “opened on a bad day.”  Sitting in that wet, woody mess, attacked by hundreds of mosquitos, I thought maybe this was such a bad day to open the card.

Hell no!  I got myself in this mess; I would need to get myself out of this mess.  I decided to scout and bushwhack the path ahead and portage my bike and panniers separately.  Gradually, with the Highway noise getting closer, I made a final rise up a semblance of a rocky pathway to the Highway. My bike was covered in mud, with the mud compacted between my fender and tires to the point they would not roll forward.  Glad to be on the Highway, I took sticks to clean as much mud off the bike and my sandals (yes, sandals!).  I could not use any water from my bottles as it was getting low.  The sun was bearing down, and the heat was building. 

Having lost so much time (perhaps 2+ hours?) on this epic detour, I again rerouted, knowing I would not make my initial target of Cobourg, and instead turned my sights east to the larger town of Peterborough, with a direct road – Hayes Line – straight across to downtown Peterborough. After preparing my bike to travel again as best as possible, I rode the short distance to Hayes Line and turned up it, with the definitive emphasis on “up.”  It was a monstrously steep and long hill that I simply did not have the capability or will to cycle up.  So off again, and push.

Many folks think pushing a bike is kind of wimpy.  I will tell you it is not, that it is actually harder to push a bike uphill fully loaded (and muddy) and can be quite exhausting.  I did finally crest the hill and turned into the first driveway I could find.  I parked my bike against a propane tank and knocked on the door.  A man eventually answered, and I was given permission to use his hose, conveniently near his front door.  I sprayed everything down – my bike, my panniers, and me.  I can say that I did provide his somewhat parched lawn with an excellent topsoil amendment.

I rolled back onto Hayes Line, now with a monstrous downhill where even I had to use my brakes.  And then another uphill, and another, and another.  While I did have the benefit of a warm tailwind, it did little to help me push my bike up these continuous roller coaster hills.  This was probably the worst set of continuous roller coaster riding I have ever done, and it was exhausting.  Finally, I crested a hill on the western edge of Peterborough, and as I started to coast downhill, a man selling corn out of his driveway called out to me and wanted to talk.  I did not mind stopping to chat as I was gassed.  I believe his name was Sean – we’ll go with that.  

Sean and his corn stand, with stories to tell.  He donates 
all he earns with corn and pumpkins to a men's shelter.

He invited me into his home and gave me ice and water, and we chatted for about 20 minutes.  Sean was on disability and wanted to talk to me because a bicycle accident put him there on this same hill I was descending.  At this moment, another customer stopped for corn.  I told Sean I needed to get going as it was approaching 6:00 PM.  Sean was anxious to tell this drive-by customer that I was biking across Canada (much to my embarrassment).  His wife and child were waiting in the car and soon departed with good wishes for my journey and their dozen ears of corn.

I thanked Sean profusely for the ice and water and coasted downtown, heading for the main street, George Street North, as there were two possible hotel options.  As I approached a traffic signal in my bike lane, gazing at the wonderfully preserved buildings, out pops the customer from the corn stand – Caleb – from an Indian restaurant, asking if I had eaten (I had not) and to please come join them as their guest.  I accepted, knowing that spicy Indian food would be good, the invitation sounded pleasant enough, that it was dinner time, and they were kind folks.

Caleb, holding Elijah, and Sarah

Caleb and his wife Sarah run a marketing firm focused on small local businesses together. They have three children and one on the way (two were just taken to summer camp), with Elijah, the three-year-old, joining our table.  Let me just state it was a fine meal, great conversation, and excellent entertainment from the ever-talkative and smiling Elijah, who could see my parked bicycle out the window and kept asking me, “is that your vehicle?” and telling me he loved me!  Sarah went to make a call and soon returned as I needed to get going.  What she had done is call the Peterborough Inn and Suites a few blocks down to not only reserve the room (since she was well familiar with them through her previous work as a tourism coordinator) but to pay for it!

What a gift!  I would call the end of this day yet another tailwind, the driving force of people and donors that pushes me to continue, even against all odds as I had experienced today, even colored by the stupid decisions we regret but can look back on it this way: if this day had not happened as it had, I would not have met Sean, Caleb, Sarah, and little Elijah, and experienced their generous spirit and kindness.   

And Megan’s card remains sealed.