Entry Ten

Over the past week I have bicycled through the entire width of Michigan's Upper Peninsula and half of my trip through Ontario Province. I have gotten rained on a couple of times, but the storms have quickly passed and I have been able to keep up my pace. Most importantly, the winds continue to blow from the West, speeding me along. On the negative side, the highways have substantial traffic and the road often has little or no shoulder. These poor road conditions are a surprise and a disappointment, particularly in Ontario, where I have been on the Trans-Canada Highway for most of the last 3 days. You would think that Canada's primier highway would at least have good paving and decent shoulders. But for long stretches, this is not the case. I often have to share the lane with passing cars and large trucks, not all of whom are considerate enough to pull out to the middle of the road when they pass. It has been nerve-wracking at times. Yet I have seen more bikers on this stretch of road than any other since Idaho. They are all Canadians, going from one side of their Country to the other. Yet I would not recommend this road to anyone on a bike tour.

The vegetation I have been seeing can best be decribed as "North Woods." Although generally forested, the trees are perhaps half or less the height and size of those I'm used to seeing in the Northwest. There are areas where the trees grow only to a height of about 20 feet, similar to stands I have seen in inland Alaska. I assume that this stuntedness is due to the cold, continental climate of the region. Indeed, the southern end of Hudsen's Bay, which is tundra, is only about 400 miles to the north. There are numerous signs warning of moose and bear and the precautionary measures to take. In my conversations with residents, they all confirm frequent bear encounters. However, I have yet to see either species on my Journey.

I met my first Boy Scout Troop on the trip (Troop 1059 from Kalamazoo, MI) at a KOA in upper Michigan. They were younger scouts out on a combination summer camp and fun tour. They would train in the morning and visit a tourist attraction in the afternoon. I am involved in a troop, myself, and was warmly received by this troop. We talked for several hours about scouting, snow removal in western Michigan (they claimed over 100 inches of snow in a typical winter - lake effects) and other things. The scouts were very inqusitive about my Journey. I really enjoyed this rare chance for comradery, one of the many benfits of being involved in Scouting.

The towns I pass through are generally larger and more settled than those on most earlier in my Journey. However, the long intervals between towns, typically 20 miles or so, continue to be nearly empty of any human habitation. Although this area has been settled for several hundred years, it is still largely wilderness and reasonably unspoiled. I see lots of signs advertising hiking, camping and river rafting opportunities. There are numerous medium-sized rivers which the highways crosses, some of them with interesting-looking rapids. But as with the most of this Journey, I have very little time to turn aside to pursue recreation opportunities, unfortunately.

One exception was yesterday evening. I had targeted Driftwood Provincial Park for my campsite. This made for a good day's run of 107 miles. Although cloudy, the afternoon temperature had been in the low 90's with humidity to match. It was really hot going and I sweated like a pig. The park sits along the shores of the upper Ottawa River whose valley I had been following for most of that day. The river is a large reservoir at this location. I got a campsite right on the lakeshore. As soon as I had my tent up, I stripped down and plunged into the water. The water was cool and refreshing, the perfect end to a strenuous day. The lake is surrounded by low mountains and is several miles wide where my campsite was. The forest is unbroken and there is no sign of any human intrusion upon the lovely scenery. The setting sun dropped below the cloud layer and turned the sky a fiery orange. It set as I was eating my dinner (a can of beef stew). The cuisine aside, I reflected that this was one of those perfect moments in life; the kind that happen unexpectedly, of its own accord.

Today I am finally getting off of the accursed Trans-Canada Highway. I will be crossing the Ottawa River into Quebec Province. The road that I will follow into Canada's Capital, Ottawa, will most certainly be an improvement. From there, it will be a short hop to New York State and New England. The end is not far off.