On a few days on the Train

August 3
The ride up from Union Station to my cousin’s house was a bit confused by a map that tested my (poor) eyesight and the effects of a Pride parade. I am not sure if was officially “Gay Pride” or whether it was “LGBTQ (and whatever letters have been added) Pride”. It was also hot and humid.

I made my way up to my cousin’s house and let myself in, carefully following her instructions and mentally rehearsing my explanation to the police or security agents if I got it wrong. My cousin and her husband were in Halifax for the weekend but were kind enough to offer me a bed for the night in their absence.

August 4
This morning was cooler. It was an easy downhill ride to Union Station. I had been expecting to have to partially disassemble the bike as that was what Via Rail’s website said. However, the person manning the checked baggage counter said wasn’t necessary as the baggage car on my train had racks for bikes! Had I known this, I wouldn’t have brought a bike bag with me. I then took a step away to take off my bike shoes and organize my luggage into checked and carry-on categories. After checking in the bike and a duffle bag, I went to the Business Lounge to get my meal reservation ticket. There was a fair number of people already there, even though I had arrived with plenty of time to deal with the bike. I was mildly surprised that Via Rail currently serves “Continental breakfast” 6:30-8:30 (no reservations), Brunch 9:30-1:30 (first come, first serve) and Supper (reservations for 5, 7, 9).

My dining car had a special livery about Churchill, Manitoba. Not sure why.

The Canadian left on time. I was interested to note that even an hour out of Union Station, we were still in suburbia. The Greater Toronto Area is fairly large. Then again, the Train leaves Union Station heading Westwards, before turning North before then going East for some distance. It then heads North on the Bala subdivision.

At brunch, I was seated with a pair of grandparents from Uruguay with whom I spoke mostly in French and a man from Moose Jaw. When the waiter asked if I would like a mimosa, I answered with an emphatic “Yes, please!” The Uruguayans were traveling with one of their offspring, the spouse and two grandchildren who were seated at the next table.

The man in the roomette across from me would be described on Amtrak as a “foamer”. On Via, the term employed is “DRF”, for Dedicated (or possibly Demented) Rail Fan. He has an engineer’s cap loaded with Via Rail pins, a Via Rail sweatshirt and a radio scanner to listen into what the train crew is saying. He installed himself in his roomette by putting an Ontario license plate number “VIA RAIL” in the window.. Curiously enough, his roomette was the one I had been assigned, until about a month after booking when I phoned Via Rail to ask if I could have a cabin on the North side of the train. I was intrigued by him at first. This wore off when I heard him pontificate in a dome car. His statements had a Munchausian quality to them, containing grains of truth in lake of chaff. I had the misfortune to sit with him at supper where he proved to be a tiresome dinner companion. His exaggerations were both obvious and boring. Thankfully, there was a nice couple from Michigan as well who were much more interesting.

The weather has been absolutely gorgeous. At Capreol, I got out with many of my fellow passengers to stretch my legs and walk the length of the 21 cars outside. I know there are 21 cars as I counted them. The second locomotive (of two) is no 5459 which became that number after it appeared on the $10 bill with its original number 5403.

After supper, I moseyed back to the Park car where I chatted with the artist on board in the bullet lounge. He was from Hamilton. The DRF came by. A young couple from Washington, DC, asked about what to do in Vancouver. The DRF suggested Wreck Beach. I let the cat out of the bag and enlightened the couple as to the fact that it is a nudist beach.

At some point, a man of East Asian descent wearing shorts and flip-flops came in and asked, a shade disoriented sounding, if this was the end of the train? I said: “Yes, unless you jump out the back. But I believe that’s against Via Rail policy!” glancing at a crew member meaningfully. The East Asian left prompting speculation that he had got turned around.

There are signs on doors towards the back of the train saying the Park car is reserved for Prestige passengers only between 6 AM and 4 PM. The signs are in English, French, German and what is probably Chinese. As well, all but the last two rows of the Park car’s dome are reserved for Prestige passengers. Tonight, I boldly sat in one of the forbidden chairs. Unsurprisingly, no one complained as there was only one other passenger up there and he wasn’t Prestige class.

August 5th
The night went by with the usual wakings expected of the first night. These later became a series of disturbing dreams in which I “awoke” from a dream into another dream, sometimes verging into nightmare. I came to in the early morning light of Hornepayne. This meant the train was well behind schedule.

After a continental breakfast, or at least what Via Rail calls a “continental breakfast”, I went a Skyline car dome. As I did so, we left Longlac where upon I spotted a pair of American white pelicans perched on a rock in the “lac” in question. Pelicans are fun birds to watch. They are also easy to identify.

The Canadian has the policy of dealing with time changes by having train time change after supper. This, by the train we are currently 8:48 Central Daylight Savings time. However, the true local time is 9:48 Eastern Daylight Time and will be for another 4 hours or so. The classic sleeping cars have a pair of washrooms at the front end of them. The one of the left (looking forward) is usually marked for men, and the other for women. I have always respected the signage. However, on the car following mine (“Lorne Manor”), the washrooms are marked for both sexes. So I happened to use the right hand one. I was surprised to see it was configured differently, with the washbasin to the side and a large mirror with a shelf and a stool beneath it. My conclusion (which I hope doesn’t sound sexist) was that it was intended (back in the day) to allow ladies to apply makeup in relative comfort.

The kilometres long container trains continue to amaze me. While they are very long, they are relatively light compared to mineral hauling trains. Typically they only have a pair of locomotives hauling them. (I have seen pictures, circa 1970, of freights being hauled through the Rockies by six or more locomotives.) Mind you, this means they are slow to accelerate to the speed limit hence why CN is reluctant to stop them, unless necessary.

On why my train to Toronto was late

Partly from stress and partly from the hot weather, I was sweating profusely when I walked Leonardo into Central Station and began the process of checking in the bike and my duffle bag. This involved taking the panniers off and because it was me, checking that a few important items had actually been packed. I also took off the lower parts of my convertible trousers and my biking shoes. A woman behind the baggage counter joked there should be music to accompany my stripping down.

When he saw my helmet, the attendant in the business lounge asked me how far I had ridden. He was disappointed to hear that I had only come a few kilometres.

The train left Central Station a little more than twenty minutes late as we had to wait for the Ocean train from Halifax (which was more than an hour late) to get in so a hundred plus passengers could make the connection across the platform along with their luggage. The consist on the Ocean was interesting as it started with stainless steel cars, probably from the CPR’s big batch from Budd. It then became Renaissance cars before, changing again to stainless steel Château sleepers and a Park dome car.

Once everyone was aboard, the train trundled along out through Point-St-Charles and St-Henri. A bit short of Dorval, it stopped to let another Via Train by.

At Dorval, we seemed to stop for an unduly long time. Then the train manager came on the PA to say that Via Rail does not tolerate verbal violence towards its crew or other passengers. As a consequence of this, the train was delayed some passengers were being removed from the train! Three police cars arrived. I didn’t see any of the altercation. (Apparently business class passengers are better behaved! ;-) )

As the train pulled out of the station, now an hour late, I saw two old ladies entering the station pulling rolling suitcases. I speculated that they were the offending parties and about just what had happened. From working at the Library, I know that you can get some pretty rude and obnoxious old folks whose lack of respect for rules of behaviour is frequently compounded by poor listening skills. (I also get some sweethearts who are sometimes almost embarrassingly grateful for what I do for them.)

On a coincidence of last names

I was making a reservation over the phone with a B&B in Drumheller this morning. As my last name isn’t very common, after giving it out of habit, I immediately gave the spelling of it. The owner chuckled in amusement as he pronounced his last name the same way but used the French (or more probably Breton) spelling rather than the Welsh spelling of my family. My last name is rather ordinary Welsh word which has its' equivalent in Breton which is a closely related language. That last name is not uncommon in Quebec but is pronounced in Quebec French rather less pleasantly to the ear than my last name, at least in my opinion.

On good news, bad news, good news and indifferent news about Floria die Fleddermoose's recent tune-up

The tune-up worked wonders for Floria die Fleddermoose. By replacing the rear wheel, I did away with a hub that was well past its prime. It has been a relative joy to bike to and from work. I was thinking this as I rode home today and decided I would pop round the bike shop to pay my compliments. As I got a bit further on, I noticed that there was a bit of a grinding sensation when I pushed down on the left pedal. At a red light, I investigated, thinking that maybe a bearing had gone in the left pedal, which would be not big deal as pedals are cheap and easily within my ability to replace. However, I discovered that the left crank arm seemed to be loose, moving somewhat out of its' usual plane.

I assumed that it was a case that someone at the shop hadn't tightened it as completely as he should have. As I don't have a large enough Allen key, I stopped at the shop on the way home. After complementing the staff on the good job they had done, I described the apparent problem. Steve got the staff to investigate. It seems the person who worked on the crank should have applied Locktite instead of grease at some point in the reassembly of the crank.

The mechanics went to work and got Floria back in shape in ten minutes or so. One of them explained that the crank is on the old side, hence the need for Locktite. He suggested that I consider replacing the crank at some point. I expect I will, but not until it is time for another tune-up.

(I believe he is the same person who, when I dropped off Floria two weeks ago, suggested that I should protect my rims by installing disc brakes. At the time, I explained that while disc brakes would indeed prolong the life of my rims, they would also attract unwanted attention from bike thieves. As die Fleddermoose spends much of her time outdoors, I felt that I was better off buying new rims every few years than buying a new bike. Steve, who knows me better, agreed with my logic.)

On the benefits of a long-term relationship with your friendly local bikeshop

I take my bikes for servicing at Martin Swiss. As their website shows, they have been around for more than eighty years. I have been using them for about twenty years and the people there have got to know me, particularly Steve.

Last week, I took Floria die Fleddermoose in for some major servicing, including two new wheels, new brake-shifters and several other lesser bits and pieces. I picked her up after work this afternoon. Steve brought her out and I gave her a once over. There were a couple of things missing from the picture, namely wheel reflectors.

These are required by law in Quebec, especially at night. In addition, my readers will know that I believe in high visibility while biking. (Which is a bit ironic as I was watching Monty Python's "How not to be seen" sketch last night.)

I asked Steve if I could get some reflectors. He dug in a drawer to produce a nondescript, unlabelled set of reflectors. "Here, you can have them for free provided you install them yourself!" He said this with a grin as we had been discussing how busy the shop has been. Also, wheel reflectors are incredibly easy to install. The tricky bit is remembering to put them on the opposite side of the wheel from the valve.

On possible new cycle-tourists in the family

I found out yesterday that there has been a happy event which covers not one but two of the standard topics of this blog. To wit, bike-touring and my nieces. It seems that Désirée, my eldest niece, and Dominique, her mother, completed Vélo-Québec's Petite Aventure. This tour was centred around Victoriaville and was essentially out and back type routes. Over the three days, Désirée and Dominique covered nearly 200 kms. I know that Dominique is justifiably proud and I hope Désirée is too!

While certain of my readers may look at organised tours a shade askance, I think this is simply a step on the path to the joys of bike touring. Who knows, maybe in a few years, I will be taking Désirée across Spain. ;-) 

On the wearing of cleats

I switched to clipless pedals on Leonardo in 2011. During recent jaunts, I had noticed that the front of the SPD cleats were getting almost sharp. After yesterday's Challenge, I inspected them again. I then looked them up on the MEC's website. It didn't take much effort to decide that they were very worn and it was high time I replaced them.

Removing them involved first cleaning out the crud that had accumulated in the hex slots. For a moment I was afraid I wouldn't be able to fit an Allen key in them. However, my fears were unfounded.

 After removing the first one and replacing it right away, I took the time to photograph a new and an old cleat next to each other. Bear in mind that these exactly the same model of Shimano cleats, viz Shimano SM-SH56 SPD multi-release cleats. In the top image, I am holding them upside down. The two holed "washer" type thingy on the right in the bottom image is removable. Also, note how much crud there is in it!

  

Note to self: replace the cleats more frequently.