At Home - On the Bike and Off

My dad and I rolled into Hamilton Thursday afternoon.  I finally got to ride the entire Hamilton-Brantford Rail Trail, and it was great to share it with my father.  Along the way, we encountered a group of people peering over the edge of the path and signalling us to slow down and be quiet.  We stopped, and they told us a doe had just given birth.  We got to see the fawn take its first steps - an auspicious homecoming. to say the least.

But first we had to finish our trip.  From Granville, OH, where we'd enjoyed some time off, we made our way way to Galion where we stayed at the Rainbow Motel.

Our next stop was Sandusky.  Along the way we encountered far more motorcyles than we had previously (we were also off our beloved trails - sigh).  Riding into Sandusky, we saw signs that said, "Welcome, Bikers!"  Of course we wished they were for us, but they were for the bikers coming into Sandusky for Biker Week.  What great timing!

We had five or so hours to kill before taking the ferry to Pelee Island, so we naturally parked ourselves at a bar (pictured above) where I repeatedly disabused patrons of the idea that my father was actually my "old man" and endured a few comments ( or what straight drunk men think of as compliments) about lesbians.  What great timing!?

I did love that the bar seemed to be a family affair, with this young guy washing dishes.  I think the couple behind him are his grandparents.

Eventually we boarded our ferry

and made our way to Pelee Island, Ontario.

The ferry got in a little after 10pm, and we then made our way to the campground on the other side of the island.  Thankfully there is very little traffic on the island, and it's small.  It was great riding along roads lit only by our headlights.  You don't get to safely do that very often.

The next day was basically a day off for us, so we made our way around the island.  They'd just had the Pelee Island Half Marathon the day before, but many of the runners had already left.  It's not high season yet, so a lot of things weren't open, but by stopping by one of the marinas, we found out the Canadian Legion served breakfast.   After breakfast, we were ready for our Pelee Island Winery tour.
It was actually one of the best and most informative tours either of us have taken.

Antique wine press

We took another ferry to Leamington where we had accomodations with a Warm Showers host.  Robbie is quite the athlete and bicycle tourist, having toured Chile and Patagonia this year already.  It was too bad we didn't have enough time to learn more, but maybe another time.

Being in Ontario made me feel like the trip actually had an end to it although we still had three days of riding ahead of us.  I was concerned about where we were going to stay between Leamington and Woodstock as there didn't seem to be a lot of options along the Talbot Trail, which we'd chosen as our route.  [Note:  it's not really a trail but a road.] We found a campsite via Google Maps and decided to try to make it there.  Along the way, we stopped at this great cafe and gift shop (a rare and welcomed sight along the road) - the Crazy 8 Barn.

Not only did we have a great piece of rhubarb crumble there, but we also learned that our proposed campground for the evening was to be avoided.  Thankfully, they suggested a couple of other options, and that's how we ended up at the Port Glasgow Trailer Park.  It was like a combination of Brigadoon and Cocoon - a totally charming community! (I also learned from the people at the Crazy 8 Barn that the local counties were doing a quilt trail like I'd seen in Kentucky - images of the quilt blocks we encountered are on the next page).

We were helped by a really sweet couple, Larry & Pauline, who not only showed us where we could camp but offered their hose to wash the mud off our bikes (we happened to have been on a dirt road when the brining truck came by).  Later, Larry took me on a tour in his souped-up golf cart.

They also had a snack bar (yay! dinner) and a beautiful beach on the shores of Lake Erie.

We really felt lucky to find such a great place to camp.

The next day we rode to Woodstock, and it was the longest day we've ridden - 87 miles.  We hadn't intended for it to be so long, but somehow it ended up that way.  We were also on some high-traffic roads, which made it seem even longer.  But we had a campground in Woodstock, so that should be good, right?

Wrong.  The campsite was not only ridiculously expensive ($40 to pitch a tent?) but off a main road without any nearby services.  It also felt like we were in someone's backyard (again, for $40?!).  I was deeply unhappy and asked my father to see if we could get a refund.  I figured we could take our chances in town; plus, I knew there were hotels in the vicinity, and I was willing to ride a bit more to get to a better place to stay.  It was our last night on the road, and neither of us wanted it to suck.

Thankfully we found a Quality Inn, and they really hooked us up.  It was perfect - nice room, laundry, and an attached restaurant/bar where we could watch the Rangers-Kings game (sigh).  The only thing that could've been better is the beer they served and the outcome of the game.  But I'm not complaining; just commenting.

And so, we took off the next morning and wended our way into Hamilton.  I got home a little bit after 3pm.  The ladyfriend filmed our ride down our street.   I'm sure it's amusing.  It's good to be home, and my transition to "regular" life is including a lot of cycling.  I just signed up to do a two-day ride from Lake Ontario to Lake Erie next weekend, benefiting Environment Hamilton (if you'd like to sponsor me, you can follow this link:  http://bit.ly/LakePledge), and today I carted a 40lb bag of cat litter on our city bike.  I'm just exploiting the momentum!  Ride on!

Natchez Trace - What Day Is It?

That's right - WiFi is not everywhere, especially not on the Trace.  But tonight we're staying at a motel in Collinwood, Tennessee - a motel with two rooms for rent.  Here's our room.  It's kind of unreal but in a good and welcomed way.

We spent last night in Tishomingo State Park.  We awoke to rain at 5am, but we both pretended it wasn't happening and dozed on and off until about 7am when we had to face reality.  Then we stayed in the tent until about 7:30 before we decided we'd have to suck it up and break down camp in the rain.  Staying at the campground another night would've been just too bleak, plus all we had for food were some peanut butter crackers, four hard boiled eggs, and some granola bars.  We ended up, however, having a good cycling day - cool with surprisingly little rain.

Speaking of food - we seem to be on an epic "How much are you willing to eat from a gas station?" trip.  In fact, I'm logging down every gas station meal.  Yesterday we had breakfast at our Warmshowers.org host's house in Tupelo so that was an actual meal, but we had lunch at a gas station (shared a slice of double pepperoni pizza and a cheeseburger - yes, I ate a cheeseburger from a gas station.  Oh, how my standards have...changed) and dinner from a gas station (three grilled chicken sandwiches and, believe it or not, two jalapeño poppers, plus some Sam Adams - seemingly the one beer you can count on in a sea of Bud Light, Busch Light and various other blue cans).  I think at the end of the trip I will just do a post with a tally of the "meals."  Tonight, thankfully, had a great meal at a real restaurant (although they don't serve beer - some of my standards have not changed): chicken fried steak for me and smothered chicken for Dad.

The day before yesterday, as we were getting off the Trace for lunch (near Tupelo), a woman in a silver Mercedes sports coupe pulled up to my dad, rolled down her window, and asked my father, "Do you know how many people have been killed doing what you're doing?"  My father answered, "No."  She replied, "Well, I'm just letting you know."  Nice.  Real nice.  I kind of wanted to ask her, "Do you know how many people those things (cars) have killed?"  We spoke to a park ranger yesterday who was annoyed by that because, while no cyclist death is acceptable, there have been maybe three deaths in the last five years and that kind of attitude isn't helpful.  I will say, the traffic around Tupelo was the most aggressive we've experienced on the Trace.

We stayed in Tupelo that night with Rufus, a Warmshowers.org host.   We ate well in Tupelo, at a place called South, and after dinner, Rufus drove us by Elvis's birthplace, which was enough of a tour for us both.

Jackson, LA to Natchez, MS and Foucauldian Logic

Tent pavillion

Perry (she was named after an uncle) and Lep (short for Leopold) were amazing.  Not only did they come fetch us, we showered in their house, had a place to set up our tent, and they fed us dinner.  Of course I fell in love with them.  She's totally a bike nerd and helped me with my brakes and suggested a readjustment of my saddle.  Love.  She and Lep built their house and used reclaimed wood throughout.  Plus, they've been hosting cyclists since 1999.  Total love.

The next morning they fed us again and saw us out.  The weather was clearing up, and the day was looking to be fine.  Perry said that they call the weather from the day before "the punish" weather; the weather before the reward (hence the Foucault reference).  The first part of the ride was beautiful - rolling hills on tree-covered back country roads and minimal traffic.   There was a moment when I was flying down a hill, under the shade, with the smell of honeysuckle all around where I thought I could weep. Yes, I'm becoming an emotional cyclist - don't judge.

Gramercy to Jackson, LA, or The Kindness of Strangers

Should we be worried about those clouds?

After securing our sleeping arrangements, we went in search of a beer.  Yes, there are basically three themes of this trip: biking, beer, and food.  Gramercy bleeds into Lutcher and sooner than later we found ourselves at the Streamline, a dark local watering hole that welcomed us with open arms.

 We had a couple of ice cold Budweisers and stared at the TV screen while the regulars were hanging out out front.  One of my favourite moments was when, as we were leaving, one of the patrons, who I think just stopped by for a chat, got into an orange Mercedes with hubcaps that said "Player" on them and "Sugar Foot" spelled out on the rear window, started his car and drowned out "Blurred Lines," playing on the jukebox in the bar, with "Let's Get it On."  Let's get it on, indeed.

We ate at a restaurant suggested to us, Aunt Ellie's.  I'm trying to limit myself to one fried meal a day (are you laughing yet?), and for dinner I allowed myself the fried crawfish tails and the catfish (purported to be the best in Louisiana).

I didn't expect an appetizer of this size.  Really.

Hushpuppies, catfish, and green beans.

We had a friendly chat with a couple over at another table, who were interested in our ride.   They left before we did and we said goodbye.  When we went to pay our check, we discovered they'd paid for our dinner.  A road angel!  Holy cow!  How nice was that?!

We returned to the rec centre grounds and watched some Little League games.  At one point, two young girls came over to us and asked if we were in some kind of race.  When I told them that, no, we weren't racing but riding to Canada, they lost interest and walked off.  Hah!  After all the games had ended we pitched our tent near the dugout and went to sleep - more or less.

We awoke to rain.