August 20, 2004

The following is a transcript of the notes I wrote on August 9th, the 26th day of my journey:

On a trip like this everything seems to go wrong but end fantastically well. By the time I reached Tobermory I ran out of food and money, my bike barely held together, and the winds always seemed to blow against me. But for all that, the 2000km journey was an exhilarating experience.

And now it was over. I planned biking the entire 240km route from Tobermory back home to Waterloo in a single day, but predictably the winds changed Monday morning, dampening my plans. For the whole weekend strong winds blew from the North, keeping the skies clear and blue, but now they started blowing from the South, bringing a storm my way.

“This fucking sucks,” I said, getting on my bike, my legs still aching from my hike along the Bruce Trail.

Once the rain started coming down, I pulled into a little café somewhere on Highway 6 and for two hours consumed endless cups of coffee. It was clear I wasn’t going to make it to Waterloo in one day. The rain eventually stopped, but no the wind, so I got back on my bicycle and I kept pushing on.

Again the scenery changed. With the escarpment and all that wilderness behind me, I once more found myself surrounded by rolling hills and green pastures, the land around me reeking of fertility. Cows watched me with deep suspicion. They probably knew that once, after telling Amy about blowjobs on a ride to Stratford, I promised to one day hunt cows with an axe.

“That’s not hunting!” Amy cried. “They’d just stand there waiting to be hit.”

“So much better,” I said sadistically. The cows, huddled together before me at sunset, seemed to understand all that. Besides, I looked hungry.

But I quickly forgot my hunger when a tandem bike pulled up alongside. They were married and dressed in red, and took tandem rides each evening. I was so amazed at their skill and uniform motion that I quickly caught up with them; it wasn’t easy since they achieved marvellous speeds on that bike. I fell in love with their machine — O Martha, let’s get us a tandem bike and ride as one!

Once I finished gushing over their bike, they told me where I could camp for the night and I told them about my journey. They too went on lengthy bike tours through Europe and beyond, so they understood where I’ve been and we laughed together as my bike started making funny noises on the inclines.

“So, where did you get your bike?” he asked.

“*cough*Canadian Tire*cough*,” I said.

“That’s quite a brand name,” she said jokingly.

I became particularly inarticulate as I ran out of breath trying to keep up with the tandem beast; they barely broke a sweat. So a few kilometres further we went our separate ways. I only found my campground after sunset and ate my last can of tuna by candlelight in my tent.

Blow out your candles for now the world is lit by lightening!

My last night on the road was filled with rain and the delicate sound of thunder.