Settling in

Today was a good day. I've found myself very emotional at the end of each day, because it's been a push to the end and I simply haven't been eating enough. When it's getting dark and you're hungry after a long day on a hard saddle, a lot of stuff can come out (metaphorically, I mean). Today was not one of those days. I finshed with a smile, which made a nice change and bodes well for the rest of the trip, now that I seem to be meeting my food needs for each day. I even made a friend, Dave, who's sixty-something and is cycling from Vancouver to St. Johns. I lost him about 12km back along the highway though, I think he's stopped in a cheap hotel we passed along the way because when I stopped he never appeared. He had food poisoning and kept saying he wanted to find somewhere. I'll probably see him tomorrow when we both have to go up the Rogers Pass. He'll set off earlier than me, but I'm a bit faster.

I was sad to leave the Golden Ears Community farm. Even though I only stayed two nights, I felt like I'd made friends there, so it was with a heavy heart that I set off. I had bought some food from their little shop on the highway, and was pleasantly suprised to find they had invented the best flapjack in the world (for those Canadians who don't know what a flapjack is, it's oats, golden syrup and butter melted together and baked with flavourings like currants or chocolate). Apple and cinnamon, with possibly a little peanut butter. Om nom nom. Nom nom. Nom.

I had three, but I wish I'd bought so many more.

Last night was my first true rough camp. I found a little creek just off highway 1, which had a nice big flat area of grass and saplings and set up camp. The scariest fauna in the UK would be a big dog or maybe a bull, so it's taken a while to rid myself of the irrational fear that everywhere that isn't roads or picnic sites is FILLED with angry, hungry bears with a penchant for a lone cyclist's flesh. I still took all the precautions I had been pre-warned to carry out; food in a sealed bag up a tree, make lots of noise and don't camp anywhere obviously frequently visited by Yogi. Either they worked, or there were no bears there, because today I was cycling with all my limbs in tact. Which is nice.

I'm getting better at using the right words for stuff as well, bin is trash, bathroom is restroom, and mate is dude. People are actually beginning to understand what I say now that I can speak their language. This stops when I meet anyone from Quebéc, but it's a start. I hope everyone's English is passable, moreso than my French when I'm in Quebéc, otherwise I could have a few problems, and lots of sign language. We'll see. Insha'Allah.

Here's roughly where I am now, and where I've stayed along the way:

View Bens Transcanada for Help for Heroes in a larger map

Rogers pass tomorrow, so big it has its own wikipedia page. It's going to be brutal. Then Golden the next day.

In the words of Mr. Ringo Star - Peaceandlove peaceandlove.