Week off yesssss

I've made it to Ottawa, 4,500km-ish after leaving Vancouver 55 days ago. Christian and Jenna split off from Megan and Jeremy so they could hoof it to Halifax and make it to a wedding so we are now 3.

Jeremy's mother lives in Kanata, which basically counts as Ottawa because it's so close, so I have the luxury of a roof, bed and flushing toilet. A roof that isn't just partially waterproof, a bed that doesn't need inflating and a toilet that isn't in a gas station. Luxury indeed.

The first day was hot and boring, right up until the point where a spoke broke and it became hot and frustrating. Unable to fix it without a chain whip and casette tool, I tried to hitchhike to the next town. I was picked up by a man called Harry, he took me back to his house, because he wasn't actually going as far as I wanted so he would have to tell his wife. I was fed lunch and we packed my bike and kit into his SUV, then drove about an hour down the road to Iron Bridge where I was told a man who fixes lawnmowers "may be able to help". He couldn't, so we drove on to find 'Tommy' in home hardware who fixes bikes. He had to shoot home to get the tool, but I was eventually able to replace the spoke. We drove back to Iron Bridge where we had a bed to stay in with Tammy and Roger, one of Jeremy and Megan's contacts who was happy to put me up as well. We had the house to ourselves as Roger and Tammy went to a Pow wow, a Native festival, so we watched films and ate crisps until we fell asleep.

The next day we sailed to Massey, on a huge tailwind, and struggled to find a place to sleep. The campsite would be $37 for 3 people so I went into the Legion to ask if we could set up a few tents in their yard, and the barman said it was fine. So began a surreal evening being showered with hospitality, first offered showers then internet, rounds of beer, use of a kitchen, use of a bathroom, and sincere apologies for not having beds ready for us. Once we assured everyone we were fine, we sat down to our meal of barbeque ribs, rice and vegetables. The ribs had been in a slowcooker since the morning and were the best any one of us had ever had.

I've noticed that everyone to the west of us has been saying that everyone to the east of them is even more hospitable. People in BC said it about the plains, the plains-folk said it about Ontario people, and we're now being told that easteners will "look after us, like really look after us well". I can't wait, I may not need my tent or stove. If this keeps up I can just knock on anyone's door and introduce myself and expect food, a bed, shower and maybe a massage.

The next night was in Wahnapitae, if you can pronounce it you get a prize, but once again we were looking for a nice lawn to pitch our tents. The church had a nice looking lawn, so we asked the neighbors if anyone would mind us camping there. They offered us their lawn because they weren't sure. 5 minutes later the three ladies walked over and said that if we wanted we could sleep in the basement as it looked like it was going to rain (which it did), and they would feel bad if we got wet. The house was for sale, and they had just cleaned the ground floor, but we were free to use the basement and bathroom if we didn't make it dirty. We made ourselves at home, and had cold showers, and I was just about to start making supper when one of the ladies came over, she said that she still felt bad because they had left us without hot water or electricity. She then turned the power on and said we could make full use of the house, bathroom, kitchen, and bedrooms, and not to worry about a mess. While I was thinking of a way to properly thank her, she then handed me a bag of food, popcorn, pepsi, fruit and ice tea as well as towels and shampoo.

So we had a house to ourselves, until there was a man walking around the house. Thinking that he may be the owner and may not have been informed of our presence I went out to explain we were in fact not squatters, but actually just exceptionally lucky cyclists. He informed me he was actually looking to buy the house and shared my amazement at our situation. He and his wife looked around the house, and before leaving told us the story of why it was up for sale. Apparently the husband had come home to find his wife with another gentleman, and proceeded to murder her, so the house was for sale because he was currently serving time in jail. Wonderful.

Once we had convinced Megan that we weren't going to be murdered in our sleep by the previous owner, we went to bed, and Jeremy and I (just I actually) made ghost noises until we (I) felt childish and went to sleep.

The next day we once again had a strong tailwind and flew into North Bay. The landscape is similar to Northern Ontario, except there are no brutal hills like there have been, just nice flat lakes and rivers, and still lots of forests. We were soft-pedalling to find somewhere to camp when a lady showed us to a place by the river where people often rough camp. It was beautiful, a little clearing at the connection of a few paths, and looking onto the river at the golden trees. We ate rice and beans and fell asleep.

Deux Riveries was the next stop, and the most expensive campsite at $36 for 3 tents. I was sleeping in my hammock but this still counted. we stayed there anyway because we all needed a shower after 3 showerless nights. It was once again beautiful. I set my hammock up almost on the water, and the tarp over the top so that I looked out over the lake. I woke up at 0540 to the sight of the red sun rising over the trees and reflecting in the millpond smooth lake. Amazing.

You all know the rhyme, 'red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning' (if you don't then stop living in a cave) and although the scene was serene, what had woken me as such a silly time was a huge rumble of thunder. What followed was some spectacular thunder, and surprisingly little rain. by midday we were back to riding under the hot sun, although there was an angry looking cloud on the horizon. However, I didn't have to care, I was staying the night with another Warmshowers.org host, so the clouds could rain on me as hard as they liked - I had a bed that night, as well as a tumble dryer, and a garage to hang wet kit. HA, take THAT silly weather.

My host for that night was Jackie Wall, who makes AMAZING pasta. She was in the Canadian Army, and had recently returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan, so was happy to host me because of my charitable aims. I'll add that I've now raised 2,983GBP for Help for Heroes (no pound sign on this keyboard), which, although impressive, amounts to 0.66 pence per Km. NOT ENOUGH. If you're a regular reader and you haven't donated then SHAME ON YOU. Feel bad, then give me all your money. If you genuinely can't afford a few pounds, then at least send me a message, something along the lines of "woo, go Ben, you're awesome, I love you" will do. The ego boost will make me go faster and hurt less, which can't be a bad thing =p

The next day, from Petawawa to Ottawa, was one of the most beautifully easy rides of my life. I had planned on it being a big day at 170km, but hadn't expected to fly it. I crossed into Quebec after a brief stop in a grocery store to pick up pastries, muffins and bananas. I've spent almost a month in Ontario, and was getting sick of it, so it was a nice change. I took a bike path through it (an old railway line from which they had removed the rails), and was almost completely alone for the first time in weeks. The whole day was spent in sun dappled forests, cruising at 25kmph along a gravel path, no cars, no noise, just speed and sun. It was bliss. For the whole 70km path I saw 5 people, 4 of whom were cyclists going the other way. The end of the path was confusing though, I was spat onto a road next to a town that wasn't present on my map. I asked a farmer for directions and he pointed me in the right direction. I took a little ferry across the river back into Ontario (which sucks) and almost immediately noticed my front wheel was a little flat. When I inspected it, it deflated, along with my mood. I had no spare, and no way of fixing it, as the valve had parted its air-tight company with the rubber tube. More hitchiking was necessary.

Jeremy and Megan had continued on to Pembroke when I stopped in Petawawa as 170km would have been too much, so I was planning on meeting them at his house in Ottawa. Unfortunately this was still 40km away. Furthermore, all the traffic was going the wrong way, home from work in the city to their home in a small town on the outskirts. I pushed my bike a few kilometers to an intersection where I hoped there was more traffic and was soon picked up by a lady in a camper van. She seemed to want to eject me at the first gas station, but I typed Jeremy's address into her TomTom and smiled. She dropped me off just outside his house, and all was well. No more cycling for a week. Perversely though, I miss it, and spent most of today reading about cycling/triathlon related things.

So begins my week of rest. I'm more than a week ahead of schedule, so I can afford to take time off, and what's more, I have the aforementioned luxuries at my disposal. I'm with friends, I have a bed, and I have all the filter coffee I can drink as well.

I'm now going to watch a film, eat food, and fall asleep as late as I like. Why? Because I can. Because I don't have to wake up at 7 and do something that makes my bum hurt all day.

I mean cycling.

Fortitudine Vincimus

Ben

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