It rained...then it poured.
My intention was to make it as far into New Brunswick as possible. I had a lofty goal of making it to Fredericton, but a late start out of Ottawa caused my daylight to run out. THAT'S when it started to rain! The spray from all the trucks (and it seemed there were many that night) made it hard to keep my visor clear. I have a small wiper blade on each thumb of my rain gloves to clear away water when wind blast is not enough. It seemed every time I cleared my visor one of 2 things would happen. Another truck would pass or I would see a bright, yellow sign warning me of "moose-night danger". Great, I can't see and now there is a good chance a dark, furry, very large ungulate could walk into my blurred vision...yet there seemed no where to stop.
Let me backtrack a bit to let you know how all this came about. I stopped for breakfast the day before in a small town in northern Ontario that I can't even remember. Many of them have no personality along that highway so they blend together in the memory bank.
A few bikes were parked outside of this motel/restaurant and that was enough for me. Having left a great campsite in Iron Bridge Ontario, where I'd spent my night,
my stomach was telling me it was on empty. This seemed as good a place as any as obviously bikers were welcome.
There were 2 Moto Guzzis parked in front of one of the motel rooms and it was obvious they were packed and ready to head out on the highway. I figured they had stayed there for the night and were just having breakfast as they were parked a ways from the restaurant door.
The other motorcycle was an 80's vintage Honda V65 Sabre with some well worn luggage and extra water proof bags bungeed on. Another distance traveller! It was parked off on its own in an odd angle close to the door. I parked near it as I am an advocate of safety in numbers. I park next to other motorcycles as often as I can. People are more likely to see a group of bikes more so than a lone one they can hit and run away from.
Inside I was right about the Guzzi riders, they were stuffing their faces and pouring over a map. They sat off to one side and did not seem to want to acknowledge another rider. The V65 guy was easy to spot. He was a silver haired fellow of shorter stature and appeared to be in his late 50's or early 60's.
'Good for you old man being out here on a bike trip!' I thought, then I realized my age wasn't exactly spring chicken digits.
I had brought my laptop in to check on email as the sign said they had wifi and I do have to keep in touch and make postings.
At some point I struck up a conversation with the V65 rider, who's name was Dave. He was a friendly chap and we chatted as we finished up our breakfast, swapping stories and road info. It turns out we were headed the same way and both of us were weary of solo travel so decided to ride together. I don't like riding in large groups but 2 to 4 riders does make one more visible to duck ass drivers and gives you someone to talk to when you take a rest break. It also gives you something to focus on, another rider to keep pace with, which helps shed a bit of the boredom induced by these lame Ontario highways.
Any curve that may have been fun was straightened out a long time ago for truck traffic. Add their stupid and dangerous 90kph speed limit and one soon learns to loathe the main highway through here.
Why do I think 90kph is stupid? Easy. With today's vehicles there is no sensation of motion or speed at 90 which makes many drivers lethargic in their reactions or void of attention. It puts one into a trance as I believe many just don't feel there is any risk. Sadly 90kph is still fast enough to kill or seriously hurt you in a collision...you just won't see it coming. I feel a slightly faster pace would hone most peoples attention to a higher level. Note to lawmakers- speed is not always the issue but we know you enjoy making money off it.
As we rode I found Dave's riding style to fit mine nicely. He was into keeping the same pace and gave plenty of warning before passing anyone so that we could stick together. He liked to take short rest breaks between fill ups and I found it very relaxing that way yet we were making good time despite the extra stops. I also felt less fatigued as getting off and stretching is a good thing..
Dave suggested when we get to Ottawa we grab some stuff at the local 24 grocery store and BBQ at his place. He had a spare bed and invited me to take a break from camping for a night. A BBQ dinner and some bike stories, along with some whiskey to unwind sounded great so I took him up on it.
The next morning I had intended to get going by 8am but found there was a problem with some of the auto withdrawals on my bank account so my departure was delayed by banking hours which started at 9am. It took over an hour to straighten things out so now I was behind 2 hours and this is where my daylight started to be eaten up.
Quebec was going to be all super-slab, 4 lane monotony so after my first fuel stop, I detoured off Highway 20 for a half a tank of back country roads. I was impressed by the quaint little towns and how well kept they all were, which was in stark contrast to the odor. There were many dairy farms but with cows comes manure hence their own special blend of country air. Sniff..phew!!
The pace was relaxed, the scenery much better than the super slab so it made for a nice ride through bursts of stink. Upon checking the map I realized I had just snuffed out more daylight than I thought. Time to get back on the 4 lane . Just outside of the turnoff to New Brunswick the rain started, light at first but it seem to amplify as the day changed to night. It seemed the darker it got the bigger and more frequent the drops.
That is where the moose signs started to show up with alarming frequency.
I know full well the damage a moose can do to a car. On a bike you have even less chance. I needed a place to stop but none seemed to materialize. I was stretching my budget as far as I could as the travel to get to the east was more than predicted. Since I saved on a hotel or campsite the night before this downpour justified spending some money. Finally the highway gods felt mercy and a small settlement appeared with a mom/pop style road side motel, the kind that you see in horror flicks. Perfect.
There was a traffic light there although it did not seem to be needed. As I sat waiting to turn left into the motel I looked on my side of the highway and a campground sign was lit up. With my very limited 5 words of French I was sure they were advertising cabins as well so I checked over my shoulder and crossed 2 lanes to the campground. I'd rather have a cabin than murder motel room any day.
It turned out the owner had as much English knowledge as I had French so the slow speech and miming began. She was writing up a receipt for a tent site when I mentioned the cabins. I managed to decipher that there were no cabins to be had as they did not have any. What I had read on the sign was the name of the town, Cabano. As an anglophone it was an honest mistake.
Setting up a tent in the rain is no fun so I pointed at the cook shelter across the driveway. A large concrete slab covered by a roof on poles. "Would I be able to set up in there?" I mimed and slow talked.
She was happy to agree and through her few English words explained how to find the lights and the fireplace was mine to use to.
Fireplace? Had my energy level been higher I would have gladly stoked it up for heat and perhaps I should have anyway. My mind was on sleeping after a quick dinner of snacks as I was beat. I paid the lady, who was very pleasant and accommodating then rode my bike under the shelter. This was 5 star camping as I would be completely dry in the morning for a fast departure and it barely put a dent in my budget so breakfast was going to be huge!
In the morning I awoke rested and dry and packed as the rain slowly dried up. I felt like I had beat mother nature for once and for only 13 bucks. Sweet.
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