On a dirt road

As many of my readers know, I am a world class worrier. Because of the limitations of my Atlantic Canada back road atlas and Google Maps, I only found out a few days ago that a portion of Route 81 between Colinet and Whitbourne is unpaved. This filled me with worry as I don't recall having ever ridden for significant distances on a dirt road in Newfoundland. The Trailway, yes and that once involved my front wheel sinking halfway to the axle. What's more, the dirt bit was near the end of a day estimated at 130 km. Given my poor apparent performance on the two previous days over shorter distances and rumours of rain, I was worried and pondered various alternatives.

In the end, I went ahead and just did it. I hoped that rounding the corner going mostly North, I'd get the wind at my back.

The day started with a climb up to more moorland. There was then a whee down to St-Vincent's Beach. This a bar of pebbles that separates Holyrood fjord from the ocean proper. The beach drops off quickly, so the humpback whales feeding on capelin were within a couple of hundred feet away. I couldn't get an accurate count but I'd guess the range as being three to eight. They cruised slowly parallel to the beach dragging a gaggle of spectators including some of the people I had breakfast with at the B&B! They were a family of three from Newfoundland. The college age daughter was devotee of whales. I didn't stay too long given the length of my ride.

Once across the bar, I found the town of St-Vincent's a hive of activity as they celebrated Whale Fest 2017, a town reunion for all those people who have moved away. It was time an elevenses, so I discretely approached the parish hall where a community brunch was being served, free of charge. I asked if I, come from away, might get a cup of coffee and was welcomed in.

The road turned inland after that and the wind was in my favour. I made St-Mary's in good time and found some lunch. A woman smoking outside the restaurant recognized me as having been in Trepassey the night before. No secrets in these parts! ;-)

After lunch, I flew along through what I suddenly realized was what I had expected the day before: a road going through woods consisting mostly of black spruce. My speed was hastened by a call of nature that led to me barely stopping until St-Catherine's. This was also where I turned off the more important Route 90, and onto the 91. After 13 km of that, I turned onto the feared 81 at Colinet.

 I needn't have feared. It was quite hard packed and with relatively few potholes and washboarding. Traction was good, so with the South wind, I zipped along. The drivers on the that bit of road went far beyond courtesy. They slowed right down to avoid showering me with dust. One driver came up behind so carefully, I felt obliged to wave him forwards. "I'm okay! I know you're there. Go, it is safe to pass."

I made an attempt to reciprocate the courtesy by stopping when I came across a couple of ATVs being examined by a couple of old men. Their stance suggested a mechanical problem, so I inquired if there was anything I could do for them. The issue was too much antifreeze and they thought they had a solution. I left them to it.

The map indicated there was a winery near Markland nearly at Whitbourne, so I kept my eyes open. Quite a bit after the pavement restarted, I found the Rodrigues Winery. It feature bio-everything fruit wines which are even kosher and sulfite-free. It is located in an unusual building that I only figured out halfway through my visit: it was a former country hospital, complete with the old signs and some of the old equipment. Some parts seemed like a museum.

 I had arrived a few minutes after the official closing time so it was with some trepidation that I went in, especially as I had remembered my cousin Mike's grumbling about the "problem" of cyclists at his winery in Prince Edward County where the Parents and I had stayed in between Toronto and Montreal. "They eat everything in sight, drink lots of water and don't buy any wine." Evidently, this winery doesn't have that many cyclists passing by as I was made very welcome. After paying, I sampled a number of the wines. I thought the raspberry wine worked best, but there wasn't a chance I would buy one.

I chatted with the two ladies (one young, one about fifty) who were tidying up. I had to ask about the name as Rodrigues isn't your average Newfoundland name. (All due respect.) I voiced my suspicion that it had a Portuguese or Spanish origin. It turns out that it was founded by Hillary Rodrigues, who is of Portuguese descent by way of India! He is a dentist who came to Newfoundland and ended up coming to work and live here. He still practices part time but in the mid-nineties he founded the winery.

At some point, I had to explain that I had come from the South, meaning the 81. I suspect the younger woman wasn't a true local as it took her a bit to get what I was saying. Also, once she did, she wouldn't take her car down that road, a notion the older woman pooh-poohed given the good weather. As I left, the older one gave me a packet of the place's own brand of energy bites on the house.

Markland became Whitbourne and I stopped to get some milk at the grocery store. The two men had evidently fixed the ATV as they were just coming out. We exchanged greetings. I had wait for a bit at the cash because of some glitch requiring the manager or owner. The time gave the man in front of me who was in his mid-fifties a chance to look me up and down. This caused him to remark: "Someone's a science fiction fan!" I was wearing my Star Trek jersey which looks like the wearer is a member of the crew from the original series. He confessed to being a serious collector of memorabilia and suggested I go to the Avalon sci-fi convention about to be held. I think I gave a polite though noncommittal answer. The young woman at the cash refused to be engaged by the man's talk saying she didn't care about Star Wars. (sic) ;-)

My motel was on the Trans-Canada Highway. However, it wasn't that prominently marked, so I when didn't see by the end of the strip of commerces, I went into the tourism office to double check. I had indeed passed it. Luckily, it was only a couple of hundred meters back.

As I checked in, the receptionist asked if I wanted to stay two nights because there is supposed to be a storm tomorrow. I had to grin at this, as the last time I was here, Margo, Chris and I would have stayed here on account of the pissing rain, only there was no vacancies. Instead, we went to an efficiency unit Dildo. (We consumed a pound of bacon in two meals, so as we left, I quipped: "I hope the next people aren't Jewish or Muslim!" on account of the lingering smell.)

I am not going to stay as it is only 44 km to Placentia. I had booked a room there last night on account of the forecast, giving Brigus and Cupids a pass.

I am feeling sore but satisfied.