On how I got into cycle touring, part 1

There is no one reason why I got into cycle touring, only a history of sorts. To be quite honest, I sort of fell into it. Growing up in North Hatley, I used to bike around the village a fair bit. However, leaving the village was not a very attractive proposition as all the roads leading out involve significant hills. However, even as early as my last years of primary school, I did on occasion venture further afield. There were several school trips on bicycles which, ironically, went to North Hatley. (My primary school was in the neighbouring village.) On one occasion, I biked to school, went on the trip to North Hatley, and then rode home by bike!

Another impetus was the proliferation of bike tours in Quebec in the early 1990s, such as the Tour de l'Île. These showed me just how far I could cycle with relative ease.

One of the most significant events was the brainchild of a former college chemistry teacher of mine. In his capacity as one of Lennoxville's town councillors, Michael Sudlow got the town to first buy the Massawippi Valley Railway bed from North Hatley to Lennoxville and then to turn it into a bike path. Now, I had an easy way to get out of North Hatley on my bike. This truly expanded my horizons as a transportation cyclist as well as a more serious recreational cyclist. I eventually cycled from North Hatley to Montreal for fun.

While, I was cycling long distances, these were all one day affairs. All the touring I had done, was relatively short distances with a minimal load. Not to say that necessarily anyone could do it, but that they were short jaunts. (One of my favourites was to cycle from Bangor, Wales to Beaumaris and then Caenarvon castles and back on a rented bike.)

A significant step occurred in 2004 when I brought my bicycle with me to Vancouver. The bike was intended to facilitate my getting around the city more than anything else. However, as I intended to visit my eldest brother in Victoria, I had always been thinking about travelling by bike between the two cities. (Well, by bike and ferry.) The trip was done with improvised gear. The bulk of the carrying was done with a milk crate strapped on the back to which two backpacks were attached. Hardly elegant, but it got the job done. The trip over was fun as it was an absolutely gorgeous day and I had very good luck. To get to the ferry terminal from Vancouver, it is necessary to take a tunnel under the South Arm of the Fraser river. As bicycles are not allowed to use the tunnel, the B.C. government has instituted a free shuttle service for cyclists. I had been told about it but didn't know what to expect. As it turned out, I arrived about a minute or two before its hourly run. I had barely any time to wonder whether this was right spot to wait before a van with a bike trailer rolled up, driven by a Sikh gentleman (at least I guessed he was a Sikh from his turban, the lack of a spot on his forehead and his magnificent beard.) He cheerfully helped me get my bike on the trailer and off we went through the tunnel. (I have since heard from my Aunt Margo that he sometimes brings his own bike along so he can use it between runs.) I was sufficiently impressed by the service that I later wrote to the BC Ministry of Transportation to thank them.

In any case, cycling to Victoria was lots of fun. My example may have also stimulated Margo and Chris into doing the same. Then again, they were heading that way anyway. They then took cycling one big step further and went whole heartedly into cycle touring, starting with a significant bang by spending about a month cycling around much of Cuba. Rather than my admittedly ad hoc approach, they did things properly with proper touring bikes, bags, etc. Margo had done some cycle touring in her younger days, including cycling from Montreal to Halifax, but for any number of reasons had given up major cycle-touring.

Just as a digression, I have a very happy memory of cycling around the sea-wall in Stanley Park with Margo just before her wedding along with my mother, my brother Philip and my grandmother. (And I have photos to prove it!) Looking back, it was very neat to have three generations all on our bikes, all enjoying ourselves.

Digression aside, Margo talked about cycling to Santiago de Compostela as a future trip. This rather caught my imagination. I began a dialogue with her about when we would go and what I would need. This took place over several months during the summer of 2006. In September 2006, I returned from a week-long trip to Jersey (where I had rented a bike as transport) to a nasty situation at work and a serious bout of self-doubt about whether I was physically (not to mention mentally) capable of cycling all that distance. The end result of all this angst was that I went out to Vancouver in November 2006 with the Castafiore (my old Bianchi bike) with the idea that it would be adapted for touring at the bike shop where Margo worked part-time. Once this was done, Margo, Chris and I would go on a short bike tour of the San Juan Islands in Washington State.

To explain what went horribly right with this plan, it is necessary to state that I had been putting off maintenance on my bike for months on the grounds that there was no point in spending money when I was "just about" to have it rebuilt. Margo was horrified at the state of my tires (and rightfully so) among other things. As well, the changes needed for the Castifiore would have cost roughly $700. On the other hand, the store had a 2006 De Vinci Destination in my size (XL) which they were prepared to sell at nice discount in order to make way for the 2007's. After some thought, a trial ride up the hill and a night's sleep, I went for the new bike, which was soon dubbed Leonardo. (The choice would have been easier had it come in a more attractive colour such as bright red, but then, that's just me.) I also got many of the accessories, etc. Not all, as I still wasn't convinced. Ironically, one the things I didn't go for, probably came close to adding cost. I didn't feel confident enough to go for clipless pedals and instead opted for toe clip pedals.

After some day tripping around Vancouver to get used to new bike, I was more or less ready to start my first cycle tour. Unfortunately for you, you will have to wait until my next post to find out more about it.

On the benefits of fuss-budgeting and maps

It is entirely possibly that I am something of a fuss-budget. However, I prefer to see it as active foresight. I mean, I know I could easily ship my bike back from Deer Lake without a bike box. However, if one has (as I do) a sister and her fiancé in the area, it makes sense to make inquiries about their willingness to support my crazy expedition. This blog is about thinking about the trip and I know some of my thoughts are niggly and petty concerns. However, writing about them helps me deal with my anxieties and even fears. A little fuss now, can save fuss later. Fuss-budgeting in a skewed sense of budgeting one's fuss. ;-)

And having fussed three weeks ago, or at least pondered the concern, I was able to deal with it by talking to my sister and her fiancé when they were here about two weeks ago. It seems that they are in Corner Brook fairly frequently and were very open to the idea of procuring me a bike box and hauling it back to their house. As for the pedal wrench issue, my sister said that the locals were only too pleased to lend tools and therefore getting a suitable tool wouldn't be an issue.

On another topic entirely, I believe I have worked out how I navigate on my trip. For the Québec portion of the trip, I will use the Guide de la Route Verte, suitably annotated, particularly with comments from my downstairs neighbour who has done much of what I intend to do in Québec. I am seriously thinking of mailing it home once I reach New Brunswick. For the Atlantic provinces, I think I will photocopy the relevant pages from my Atlantic Canada Backroad Atlas (or possibly remove them), annotate them, and then waterproof them. In this way, I will be able to fit the pages into my bike map holder. (The Guide de la Route Verte was designed to fit in such things.)

Part of the annotation process will involve comparing the planned route on the maps I will be taking with me, with the topographic maps available through the Map Source program on my Father's computer. While Map Source can indicate the presence of hills, it lacks many of the details I am interested in, at a useful scale.

Merry Christmas.

On the limitations of Deer Lake

I was in MEC doing some Christmas shopping today. I was browsing through the book section, when I noticed a guide to the Trans-Canada Trail in Newfoundland. I looked up the trail near Deer Lake. I had been hoping to see that a trail existed where roads don't. Alas, there was no such animal.

In addition, it seems that there are no bike shops in Deer Lake. This is a significant problem as the nearest I could locate was in Corner Brook. This will make life a mite difficult as I will likely have to inquire if my sister would be prepared to drive to Corner Brook to pick up a bike box. As well, I will have to make sure that she has a suitable wrench for pedal removal. The possibilities are either to pack the bike at my sister's and get a lift to the Deer Lake airport or to have her leave the box at some motel or other in Deer Lake. Neither option is easy. Furthermore, I am not sure that either her car (a Golf, I believe) or her fiancé's (I don't recall the make) is suitable for moving bikes or bike boxes. Ah well, they are coming here next weekend, so I should be able to discuss the problem with them.

On the end of the biking season

I believe I biked to work for the last time this year on Monday. Snow was an issue on Tuesday, and has been ever since. This is my street on Wednesday morning.
While it is possible to bicycle in the snow, it has difficulties and dangers that I can't be bothered with. Snow becomes both ice and slush. The former is a hazard as both a slippery surface and as road debris. The latter often hides the former. In addition, the presence of salt in slush, means that any buildup of slush on one's bicycle brings corrosion to expensive parts.

There is also the matter that at some point, it becomes far too miserable to bicycle in the winter. At least, in Québec winters. I concede that Vancouver winters are much more bike-able .

My friends and colleagues had been asking me: "When was I going to put my bike away for the winter?" I always tell them, when the snow comes. This is not a fixed date. It can be anywhere from mid-November to early December. Admittedly, if my bike suffers some form of major breakdown shortly prior to the first snow, I tend to throw in the towel early. This year, the end of biking seems slightly early, but such is nature. Besides, I rather enjoy snow.

Also, I have had something of a banner year for cycling having gone on my first truly major cycling tour this May in Spain, a glorious adventure. I was reminded of it earlier today when I went to see Elizabeth, the Golden Age. Part of the movie was shot in El Escorial, a palace/monastery built by Philip II, Elizabeth's former brother-in-law. This was one of the places I visited on my trip. In addition, I understood the overzealous catholicism driving the Spanish in the movie better because of my experiences. Finally, before the movie, there was a trailer for a thriller called Vantage Point, set in Salamanca, another sight from my trip. I am almost tempted to go see it just for the setting!

Anyway, this blog is more about what is to come than what has been. As what has been, has been good, here's to hoping what will come, will be great!

On plans, baroque and otherwise

A friend of the family describes us as having a tendency to have baroque plans of actions, usually a response to juggling various people in need of being picked up at different places and times. This can result in references to "plan 32B".

With regards to my proposed trip, I am going to start numbering the various options for no other reason than to see how far I get.

Plan 1. Proceed via the Eastern shore of New Brunswick and North Sydney.

Plan 1A. The same but break the trip into two sections at about Le Bic.

Plan 2. Bike to Rimouski, Ferry to Blanc Sablon, then across to Newfoundland, bike to Deer Lake.

Plan 2A. Same as above but end in St John's, (likely to have more flights).

On uncles, blood and otherwise

One of the tricky things in writing this blog is trying to figure out just how honest I can be regarding persons featured in it. In one of the first posts, I mentioned a pair of uncles in Nova Scotia I am hoping to avoid. I didn't go into much detail about why I don't wish to stay with them. While not writing about them, it got me thinking about how I see my uncles. Of my blood uncles (i.e. the brothers of my parents), none are people I would like to spend much time with. A couple, I would prefer to avoid. Of my Mother's and Margo's sole brother less said the better.

Of my father's four brothers, one (the eldest) kept himself almost entirely aloof from the rest of the family for most of my life and I had very little connection with him. I won't have the opportunity to form any sort of relationship as he died a few years ago. I think I learned more about him at his funeral than while he was alive. Of the rest, their competitive Roman Catholicism gets quite obnoxious. The second oldest is what I think of as an American republican conservative Catholic. Very different from the very relaxed, 'normal' Catholicism I grew up with in Quebec.

Two examples: over ten years ago, I was in the second uncle's car going to a family wedding with the uncle and my father. It was early June. As we were driving through Montreal with the Tour de l'Île in progress beside the highway, my father and my uncle became embroiled in an argument about the Shroud of Turin. At some point, they decided that they shouldn't be arguing on their way to a wedding and that they should say the rosary together in order to make peace. My uncle reached down from the steering wheel and pulled out a rosary from a dashboard storage compartment. I don't even know how to say the rosary let alone own one. I wouldn't even dream of having one in the car, "just in case."

A second example was the time I was staying with said uncle in Boston. The night before my first day visiting the sights of Boston, he gave me a laminated card of some saint connected with the Knights of Malta and told me it would protect me in the big city of Boston. I responded with a chuckle and a good natured "Yeah, right," until I noticed that my uncle was deadly serious and he wasn't having a joke. To me, such things are (and were) superstitious nonsense. Not to him, it seems.

The third uncle is the one who set up shop as a peasant farmer after retiring as a university history professor. While his Roman Catholicism isn't as superstitious as his older brother's (I don't think an historian can maintain much faith in the mumbo-jumbo of Catholicism), he nonetheless can be rather obnoxious about it. He also is somewhat obnoxious in treating any guests as potential labourers on his farm. "Here, why don't you get up at 6AM and do [something agricultural] to my strawberry plants. You could probably do two rows before you have to leave for your ferry."

The fourth and youngest uncle is the Roman Catholic priest. Nearly ten years ago, my mother and I spent the night with him at his parish in Kingston, Ont. While we had breakfast with him, I don't think we exchanged more than a few sentences in a row with him as he was always getting up to deal with something, usually quite trivial.

All in all, my blood uncles are not people I would travel great distances for. On the other hand, of my uncles-in-law (i.e. the husbands of my parents' sisters) are mostly good eggs. My uncle Chris is your quintessential absent-minded scientist type: a brilliant, warm if somewhat introverted and slightly distracted human being. According to my aunt Margo, I thought he was a good guy even before she married him. That was in 1981 and they are still married. My criteria back then was he was fun to play Lego with. He is largely the same person I saw all those years ago, though my expression of my regard for him has changed. A good human being, but not one you should ask to speak a language other than English. ;-)

An interesting contrast with Chris is my uncle John (my father's side) who I like to think of as a fussy little English gentleman. (Chris is also English but from a very different background.) What makes this odd is he is married to a large, boisterous (and possibly mad, but in a good way) Canadian woman (i.e. my aunt Izzy). I don't quite understand how their marriage works, but the fact is that the two of them are still very obviously in love after 40 odd years.

The other two uncles-in-law, I have less to say about. One is a rather remarkable South African (of East Indian descent) academic, currently teaching somewhere in the U.S., possibly Syracuse, N.Y.. The other is rather unremarkable Québécois academic. (I have a friend who had him as a professor. He said my uncle was a rather boring teacher.)

Anyway, the tricky thing is how does one dance around the character flaws of one's relatives when writing such things? I don't have much of an answer and this whole post doesn't say much about biking to Newfoundland. Except for the mention of the Tour de Île, which played a role in getting me biking in a serious way.

On the synchronicity of timing and how to avoid it

I don't like the travel section of my Saturday newspaper that much. Too much about where to go on what is usually an expensive exotic vacation that sounds attractive but ultimately isn't my cup of tea. However, this Saturday it had a significant article that was very relevant to the planning of my trip. To be precise, it was an article about next year's 400th anniversary of the founding of Québec City. (How time flies. I remember going to see the tall ships' parade for the 375th anniversary!)

I had completely ignored the fact that my proposed trip would coincide with Québec City's quadricentennial. I had known about it, but I hadn't put two and two together until last Saturday. Now that I know, I don't know how to incorporate this event into my planning. On the one hand, it would be fun to participate in the festivities to some degree. After all, centennial parties don't come that often and, as a historian, it would be fun to bear witness to it all. On the other, I don't enjoy crowds. Nor do I enjoy the often paternalistic and nationalistic flavour such celebrations often take in this province. Compounding the matter is the fact that these festivities will increase the cost of lodging in Québec city and surrounding areas, or at the very least make it imperative to book well in advance. This in turn requires the Montreal to Québec City leg of the trip be much more planned than would otherwise be.

Apparently, July 3 is the official day when the international dignitaries (including the French prime minister but not the Queen) will be present. This is very close to the traditional, start of Summer holidays in Québec of St-Jean Baptiste / Fête Nationale (24th of June) and Canada Day / Moving Day (July 1st). I don't know if I want to be involved in all this or not, but these events cannot be ignored in planning the trip. Another holiday to be taken into consideration is the Québec Construction Holiday, namely the last two weeks in July. My ideal timing would be to not be on the tour in the Province during this period, especially not near the start or even worse near the end of the period.

However, it might be a good thing to take my vacation during this time as the cataloguing side of library work slows a bit in the time. One of the reasons for this is that my library's book binder shuts down for a number of weeks in July. (I catalogue French books. A majority of them need to be bound before my library can circulate them.) If I could plan it so I am out of the province duringJuly, maybe it would easier for me to get the full four weeks in a block.

Anyway, there is still plenty of time to plot, plan and ponder. Not to mention pontificate.