The dawn wasn't anything as spectacular as the horizon aflame with the
dying embers of the sun last night, but Canada's Northwest Ontario is 'sunset
country', after all.
The shortest day's ride of the trek across Canada to date was coming up and
I was already treating it like a rest day. I got up late and ate through my
food supplies ravenously eyeing up anything I didn't tell myself in a firm
tone not to eat to conserve for later in the day. What was left was not
much, the bare minimum for the 57km left until Thunder Bay.
If the dawn wasn't anything special, they morning turned into something
brilliant. For many days I'd had to pack up a wet tent and dry it while I ate
lunch. This morning the sun was blazing sunshine for the first time in over a
week and last night's rain had dried off by the time I emerged. The sun also
took care of most of the mosquitos, but the choice of camping in a gravel pit
probably helped too because of the absence of flowering plants, the
bloodsuckers' main food source.
Since entering NW Ontario the terrain had started to have some relief to
it. Hills. Rolling hills. The kind you have to pedal to get up, but also the
delicious kind where you can coast down the other side. When you're cycling on
the Prairies there is no such thing as creating potential kinetic energy (in
other words, hills). It also adds something to the cycling when you have to
use gears and 'chop it down a couple of cogs'. Variation or technical
cycling you might want to call it.
Kakabeka Falls, the Niagra of the North, was the sole reason to continue on
the Trans Canada Highway 11 and 17 instead of taking the shorter route on 102
to the parts of Thunder Bay I was interested in. It was worth the hassle of
later in the day in retrospect.
Cascading (according to the sign) from a crest width of more than 61m
(200ft) with a near vertical drop of 39m (128ft), the plunging water was
mighty impressive. The shale formation creating ledges from which the green
tea-coloured water launched into the air then dashing itself into spray at
bottom.
After the falls the road flattened and so did my enthusiasm. Even though it
was such a short day I found myself lacklustre and wanting an end to the
cycling against the wind. Taking a break at a closed weigh station for trucks
I ate the final provisions I'd managed to save from my greedy self earlier
this morning. I was now committed to reaching Thunder Bay. This was pretty
much all that I had for motivation until I reminded myself that I actually had
less than an hour's cycling to my destination. Sometimes I have to remind
myself to get things in perspective.
Following the complimentary Provincial Map of Ontario I was given at the
border with Manitoba, I cycled into the southern end of Thunder Bay and
circled the block looking for the Tourist Information that was marked. In the
end I received advice on camping options from a helpful store owner, which I
ended up ignoring and instead following my girlfriend Cathy's advice, insight
on the city gained from her motorcycle journey across Canada a year ago.
Up to the north end of Thunder Bay where the cloud gravitated the heaviest
and the roads were still wet I ventured. There, between the houses I caught
glimpses of Lake Superior, the world's largest lake (caveat: largest
freshwater lake by surface area). What was even more impressive
at this time was the Sleeping Giant, a national park on the Sibley Peninsula,
an enormous bulk of rock sitting out in the Lake across from Thunder Bay. The
superiority of the lake will have to wait until better weather and a different
vantage point.
The closest and only camp ground still running this late in the season was
the Trow Bridge Provincial Camping Ground. I got a very warm welcome and even
walked away from reception with the freshest perogies anyone could conceive
of. In case you didn't know, like me before I got to Winnipeg, perogies are a
potato-filled dumpling cooked in boiling water and a local dish made mostly by
people of Ukrainian descent (and enjoyed by me, especially). With the bike
leaning against a picnic table at camp site A5 I sat down and ate half a dozen
perogies that existed only as its individual constituent ingredients less than
half an hour ago.
The perogies got me going on more eating. On my ride across town I'd called in on a supermarket and stocked up on essentials. Before the sun had set I polished
off my 10th bagel of the day. Some seeds of the last few I shared with a
visiting squirrel and chipmunk double-team. The chipmunk was the bravest and
didn't mind taking the 'bait' in front of my camera (which I think was set up
too close so will probably only see extreme close-ups of chipmunk face or
shoulder parts). The tiny cute rodent also darted about my feet looking for
crumbs I might've dropped when shovelling potato chips into my face. It found
some and while it nibbled noisily below at my feet its tail swished over my
toes and tickled like nothing else.
