I know I’m supposed to do the whole trans-continental thing west to east because of prevailing wind conditions blah blah blah… and I know there’s an easier way to cross Ontario besides taking the northernmost paved road that features a 130 mile stretch without food, water or services of any kind. What was really surprising to me is the number of actual Canadians who tried to discourage me, saying, “it’s boring… there’s nothing up there…just trees.” So, yeah, I’m doing it wrong- again.

 

My mom was of the opinion that people who say, “you’re doing it wrong” tend to be people who don’t “do” much of anything. I am inclined to agree and here is what I actually observed to be true of my northern crossing.

 

Wind direction: it really doesn’t matter which way the wind is blowing when you must endure the extreme continental weather environment featured by northern Ontario; I’m talking about wet, cold conditions, oppressive humidity and heat, thunderstorms, and hale all within the same day. As I’m writing this I am actually crossing the Canadian prairie so, yeah, about 2 out of 3 days I am facing a headwind, but only on one occasion was it so bad I that I just threw in the towel and set up camp to wait it out.

 

“Just trees:” hmmm…this was almost the best part of the ride- more trees, more “nothing” all equals less traffic. Less traffic implies an order of magnitude of greater comfort in a province where the roads are so crappy and the drivers so homicidal that I believe the provincial border signs should read, “Welcome to Ontario- if you’re on a bike, go f^%?£¥ yourself!”

…and, yeah, what about this part? It’s frickin’ beautiful up here. The night riding on the Trans Canadian highway alone was enough to make the venture worthwhile. I don’t have to imagine what it’s like to ride in the middle of the highway at 2:00 a.m. with nothing but starlight and the aurora borealis to guide me because I did it two nights in a row.

In the end I have no regrets even though I was nearly eaten alive by voracious black flies and mosquitoes, I was forced to drink some pretty nasty tasting lake water with chewy particulates, and one July evening it got so cold that I actually had to utilize my sleeping bag. I took the road less traveled and emerged from the wilderness with a tougher exterior and even more sensitive, squishy interior.

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1. TikiTimbo says:

   August 22, 2015 at 17:09

   Seems apropos in light of this post. 🙂

   The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

   Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
   And sorry I could not travel both
   And be one traveler, long I stood
   And looked down one as far as I could
   To where it bent in the undergrowth;

   Then took the other, as just as fair,
   And having perhaps the better claim,
   Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
   Though as for that the passing there
   Had worn them really about the same,

   And both that morning equally lay
   In leaves no step had trodden black.
   Oh, I kept the first for another day!
   Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
   I doubted if I should ever come back.

   I shall be telling this with a sigh
   Somewhere ages and ages hence:
   Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
   I took the one less traveled by,
   And that has made all the difference.

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