On the Road Again 112 km

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It doesn't matter if the title of today's entry makes you think of Canned Heat or Kenny Rogers, the idea is still the same - today was time to put the rubber to the road and see what our band of cyclists was made of. After the requisite group photo we took off, initially keeping together until the friskier broke away from the peloton and set off across the countryside at high speed. The terrain was flat as we headed towards the Atlantic coast - so much so that at times it was reminiscent of the prairies; indeed as the edges of the road ahead seemed to merge at the vanishing point one would be forgiven for doubting that we were still actually in France.



With my knee telling me it still hadn't fully recovered from an injury sustained playing ball hockey a few weeks back, half-way through the ride I opted not to continue flying with the fast and furious, and instead lumbered along the bike path that paralleled the highway to the coast. The surface was familiar, as just like back home I encountered wobbly asphalt, roots that had caused the pavement to ripple, and broken bits to navigate. But it served my purposes well as by then I was in no real rush having made such excellent time earlier. Although the forecast had called for torrential afternoon thundershowers - and indeed the hotelier told us it had poured just prior to our arrival - the skies cleared as we neared our destination, and those who wished to could enjoy a sunny afternoon at the beach.

We had dodged our first weather bullet, but certainly were not out of the woods yet, as thunderstorms continue to circulate in the area. Meanwhile, our accommodations ensure togetherness.

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