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Published: August 5th 2007
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A LATE arrival in Morden
Saturday, 21 July 2007
This morning we loaded our gear & ourselves into Casper & headed to Cypress River, from where I was planning to cycle maybe 20 kilometres along the Trans Canada Trail before returning to pavement & the road heading towards Altamont. We were planning to stay in Morden, but that was about as far as I thought I could go for the one day. Bob, meanwhile, realized just before he dropped me off that he’d been expecting a parcel of mail from Ottawa, which had been sent quite a bit earlier in the week, and he’d neither heard anything about it, nor had he remembered to ask if it had arrived at the desk. So he & Panna were going to drive back to Brandon to inquire & presumably pick it up - seems he’s spending an awful lot of time chasing after things mailed from home, both his and mine! I thought we had a pretty clear understanding of where he was to look for me...
As the ride would definitely involve gravel roads I took Silver. There were quite a few turns to the left & the right to be made, and I wrote down the routing based on the map in my TCT guide, plus there were fairly adequate signs showing which way to go. For the most part the first 10-15 kilometres went quite well. There was only one stretch with thick, loose gravel, a couple of hills, nice breezes & pretty farmland. At one point the skies threatened a rainstorm, so I packed the non-waterproof items, as my books & the satellite phone in a waterproof compartment of my pannier bag. Fortunately, as so often this trip, it was only a threat & no rain fell.
However I must have missed a turn somewhere, or maybe I crossed a gravel road which I’d thought would have been paved & which I was planning to take. In any event I found myself facing a huge hill, yes, gravel road, with a left turn near the top. It was a hill I’d been planning to avoid! Needless to say, I only rode up part of it, then had to swallow my pride & walk the last half or so. I was too tired at the top to bother with a photo, sorry. By this time I was also using the GPS to at least tell me if I was headed in the right direction to get to a town called Bruxelles, but it only showed me where it was, not which roads would take me there.
By the time I’d come to the 3rd or 4th road which was not the paved one I’d been searching for, I decided to ask for directions. A pick-truck had just passed me & turned into a driveway ahead, so it was a good opportunity to do so. I guess the fellow was visiting with the guy who owned the farm, as the two of them were chatting. And the guy who owned the farm was wearing an Ottawa Senators ball-cap! They were very helpful, told me how many MILES to go before I’d turn left & advised me that I had some big hills to climb (they were nothing compared to the one I had just passed), and directed me to Bruxelles.
Once there, again, I got confused as to which way to go, went a bit out of my way, then asked a lady & was told how to get to highway 34, which is the main road I’d been looking for. Again there was a monster hill, and my legs had just had enough of monster hills, and I figured that if my walking speed (4.5 km/hr) was more than half of my cycling speed (about 7.8 km/hr) I may as well walk the bike up the hill, much as I really hate to give up on things like that. Of course there was a lovely descent following the climb & I finally got to highway 34, where I was hoping (praying!) I’d see our white van.
But it was not to be, and although I stopped a couple of times to rest & wait for Bob, I found I just didn’t have the energy to continue to highway 23, which had really been my destination. So I finally stopped at a side-road intersection, and tried once more to get the satellite phone working. A few earlier times, as when I was in Bruxelles, I’d tried to use it to ask Bob to meet me at highway 34, but the antenna was loose and I was unable to make contact with him. Now I took off my gloves & the thumb-splint (yes, I’m still using it), and was finally able to tighten the antenna enough to make a call. Bob was about ½ hour away, but I was in no mood to worry or try to get closer, so I “vegged” while waiting for him to come. It seems I’d been unclear as to my itinerary, and he’d been looking for me on highway 23, not even thinking about highway 34!
As a result of all this it was about 7:30 before we arrived at Morden, where we were booked for the next few nights. And the motel was full with kids & adults in town for some baseball tournament, so we got the last 2 rooms which were available. Needless to say we ordered “delivery”, and didn’t actually eat dinner till nearly 10 PM - NOT fashionably late, just late!
DAY 26: 39.4 km (perhaps the most difficult I’ve cycled, so far...), in 3:18 hours, ave. speed 11.9 km/hr, max. speed 36.0 km/hr (coming down that hill from Bruxelles)
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