Four Strong Winds That Blow Lonely

Well perhaps there was only one strong wind, but it was epic enough to feel like four. It swirled, it buffeted, it tossed me about anytime I was on open roads, making me that much more grateful to be on the trails much of the day.

I was too focused to feel lonely, but the trails looked a little bereft, and in want of travellers once I got past the Caledon area, where a fundraising ride for mental health put on by Jack.org had brought out some hearty looking riders.

I had set out at 6:00 before the rain began, which was lucky as I encountered an unexpected challenge early on. Looking down at my bars, I saw one of the clips for my handlebar bag had broken, thus the strap was hanging on very precariously. I got the medical tape out of my bag, and wound it as tightly as I could around the clip and the bar, to reinforce it, and then put a zip tie around the bar to take some of the weight off the clip.

It was all I had with me, and it felt sturdy enough, but as you can imagine, with every bump I went over, I feared the pack would come loose, or the clip would break off entirely.

Soon after, the rain began, slowly, and then steadily enough to soak through my first pair of rain gloves. I switched up to a second pair of gloves, but really there seems to be little on the market that is truly waterproof. Neither of my pairs are, so after a few hours, my hands were too cold to do anything beyond hold on to the bars and to brake. Oh and to hold cookies. Barely. I was so lucky that my pal, Sonya, had sent me on my way with a gift of cookies. Once I reached the Cheltenham Badlands, I stopped for a few quick photos, I found the dexterity to unpack and inhale the cookies. I fear I looked like a rabid animal; luckily there were no creatures around to witness.

With the wind rising and rain increasing, I had a singular goal: get to Barrie. As long as I was moving, I was warm enough. Just.

In Tottenham, I got on the roads for a short spell, and I got a bit of a tailwind, as the wind gusted from the SE. Then it was back onto the trail for another 25 kms, before a final 10 kms into Barrie, which seemed to have invited the whole world to come and stay for the weekend. It was awash with people, busy people, but I have to say, those busy people gave me as much space on the road as possible, and for the last few kms, I had a glorious bike lane.

I have never been so happy to see the Super 8 sign. Yes, the hotel is a little weary, but when I rolled my muddy bike and my bedraggled self through the front doors, I was greeted by the most cheerful receptionist ever. And she did not denounce my bike, nor suggest I would have to leave it in storage. Instead when I told her my name, she shared with me my wonderful fate: she had overbooked rooms, and had randomly selected me to upgrade to a larger room. I couldn’t have been luckier.

After struggling to sign my name on the invoice—I managed a line of scribble—I went up to my room which was indeed spacious, with a small kitchen area to wash my gear, and lots of space to drape all of my wet kit.

My first task was to unzip my neoprene booties. Not possible with the state of my hands, until I ran my hands under warm water for a few minutes. Finally success. By now my teeth were chattering, so I went no further than the big tub, ran a deep and hot bath, then climbed in with cookies from the Erin bakery, and my phone to send messages that I had arrived safely if somewhat soggy.

The bath did a world of wonders, as did the cookies, then it was time to make my way back out into the world, to find food, drink, and a better solution for the clip on my pack. Again, I was very lucky, with an LCBO next door, a Farm Boy across the street, and a Canadian Tire one windy block away.

I wandered through multiple aisles of hunting and fishing gear in CT, while listening to an endless page for any available employee to assist a customer in aisle 40. Then came the page for all employees to turn their radios on. Am sure that customer has perished by now. When I suggested such to the young woman stuck working in the self-serve checkout, she confessed she had not even heard the page. Just tunes it all out, she said, cheerfully. Yes, clearly.

Still, I managed to find a strong rubber belt, that I can wrap around my pack and front bar to hold it firmly in place, then got some take out from FB, and of course a cider from LCBO.

Back in my room, after struggling to use the remote, and marching down to front desk for a tutorial (yes I have become that person), I enjoyed my dinner in a lovely stupor of fatigue, before making my final push of the day to clean my bike, and repair my gear.

I am happy to report that the rain has stopped—for now—and the wind has relented. A little.

Time for breakfast, and then I will head for my brother and sister-in-law’s cottage on Twelve Mile Lake. Cannot wait!