Fini.

We decided to truck all the way to Baddeck today. Cape Smokey is a great downhill - good enough to break the speed limit. It went pretty smoothly despite the snapped derailleur cables, flat tires, and rubbing, disintegrating tires. We will take it easy for the day here awaiting our parents (and our ride home). We're a little saddle sore but feelin' fine.

If you're keen here's our route map (at bottom of post):

http://maps.google.com/maps/user?uid=112346647470576476542&hl=en&gl=us

Our parents came to pick us up so we didn't have to repeat ourselves.

Ingonish

We swung out onto the slightly less dramatic eastern coast known for it's sandy beaches. Well, we assume. We arrived in a thunderstorm / insane fog event(meteorologist speak). Parcs du Canada's campsite at Ingonish was closed, which was great; the hot water was still flowing in the shower - even better. It took the better part of the afternoon to shed 10 days of funk and dirt and crustaches.

Parc National des Hautes-Terres Du-Cap-Breton

Lovely ride (pics needed). BIG hills. We laid low in Pleasant Bay for a day in a vicious thunderstorm that knocked power out in the storm. Over North Mountain to someone's vacation home and camped on their back porch out of reach of bears and the like. We were serenaded by moose in mating season (I guess another reason to stay out of reach).

Judique to Broad Cove to Cheticamp

Gorgeous Country. We were once again randomly asked by the side of the road if we wanted to camp at what turned out to be the most beautiful beach in Nova Scotia (pics coming). We dined on Sausages and wine to celebrate.

to Cape Breton!

We ate brunch at a truck stop diner and pondered why we decided to come to Nova Scotia because it hasn't been over 13 degrees in 5 days. It is not warm here. We pedaled across the Strait and into Cape Breton Island. Just as Owen was complaining that his brakes were stuck again we came upon Bernie's Bike Shop (signified by a ten speed crudely thrown into a tree.

Wow, nothing could have prepared us for Bernie or his shop. His shop was a bicycle graveyard and he was a jolly, jumpy, leprechaun of a man. He's only a part-time mechanic, he divides the rest of his time between jumping out of choppers as a Firefighter and playing the banjo. He fixed the brake and told us a tale of two other Americans.

A couple from California who had sold their home because there were 26 shootings within 4 blocks of their house; they bought two bikes at the Salvation Army and headed east. By the time they reached Bernie's they were complaining about perpetually breaking spokes. The couple had each piled 300 pounds of stuff they found on their way onto these poor bikes. She didn't even have pedals.

When Bernie told them he would try to help them by suggesting they should lighten their load a bit. His customer responded by informing Bernie that there was a loaded gun on the bike. Obviously this subject was dropped when it was clear that this wack-a-loon was not above lightening his load by a few bullets and moving on. 26 shooting in and around you're house, eh?

We camped at a lovely picnic area in Judique. Cape Breton Highlands National Park here we come!

New Harbour to St. Francis Harbour

Wind sucks. We stopped along Lake Donahue to talk to a pair of fishermen from Glasco (Northumberland Shore) and checked out our host's gold front tooth with his grandmother's wedding band diamond encrusted on it. Classy.

We made a big breakthrough: our stove burns gasoline - 88 cents worth.

We camped along a 200 ft cliff overlooking the Strait of Canso. We climbed down and back up the cliff, spotted some seals, and ate an entire carrot cake.

Stillwater to New Harbour

Holy smokes, Batman. 50 mph straight winds, 90 mph gusts, 10 degrees, and 7 out of control forest fires. It was a tough day. We ate a nutritious lunch consisting entirely of cookies. I turned out to be a fitting lunch since both of us nearly tossed our cookies on the 5 minute ferry ride across Country Harbour. Waves splashed all the way across the deck, drenching all of our things. We were safe inside the captain's quarters.

We did not see a food based establishment all day so we were very pleased to come upon Irv's. Irv made us burgers and coffee at his lovely canteen about 30 miles east of nowhere on a gravel road to north nowhere. He restored our faith in the trip knowing that there are good people out here (or just plain people would do, maybe even cardboard cutouts in a pinch). We camped in an unowned field and slept fitfully in the howling wind.

Moosehead to Stillwater

More wind. Spent the night at a fish camp on the St. Mary River.

Tangier to Moosehead

More clouds, more wind. We were thoroughly knackered by the time we got to Sheet Harbour. We wore out our welcome at the local resteraunt after eating matching portions of the special (salt cod and pork scraps with potato, picked greens, and squash) and asked for coffee refills for two hours. A local started up a conversation outside, listened to half an album of his favorite Celtic fiddle music, and heard his lineage dating back to Scotland in 1790. People have a decidedly Scottish tone to their speech out here. We shivered and muscled our way against all the Newfoundland-sent storm had and camped in the quiet (dead quiet) hamlet of Moosehead.

Chezzetcook to Tangier

The eastern shore is waaay of the tourist radar, in fact I don't even think they have radar out here. The wind started today, and what a wind. Clouds moved in and the the hills started. The nice thing about this area and Nova Scotia in General is nobody cares if you camp by the side of the road. It would be in a serious bout of lunacy that we would pay to put our tent somewhere. In campgrounds that somewhere is usually next to some guy in an RV running a generator all night so he can watch reruns. We had a harbour all to ourselves.

Halifax to Head of Chezzetcook

We got a great set of directions from Al for avoiding most of Halifax's 4 lane pedestrian-less retail sectors. We took all 768 turns detailed in his directions with mixed success. We checked out Nova Scotia's most popular break at Lawrencetown Beach. The wind pretty much flattened both beach breaks but there were two lads riding a nice point break in a sheltered cove.

We arrived at Doug and Wendy's house (more warmshowers.org hosts) and took our third shower in as many days.

Newport to Halifax

We rolled into Halifax using three sets of highly subjective information; one from a well meaning cyclist (our host), one from a confused bicyclist, and one from a raging masochist intent on having seen to a fiery and painful end. We chose the later.

When we finally arrived we were very pleased to meet our host, Al. There were about thirty bikes of all sorts and vintages strewn about (including a beautiful matching pair of Bianchi racers) decorating the place.

We showered 10 days of filth off and kicked back on the porch.

We awoke, drank a cuppa, ate two breakfasts, and eased into town. We saw it all - parks, forts, ferries, histories, and breweries. We our short stay in civilization by watching "Indiana Jones: Something About Chrystal Skulls" before heading off into the wilds of the Eastern shore the next day.

We tuned up our bikes at Al's shop and headed off into the boonies.

Cambridge to Newport Station

Lots of farmland. We stopped in Wolfville, home to Acadia University. We stayed for two hours drinking enough coffee to float a dingy. We searched for an hour for somewhere to stay. No one is ever home in rural Nova Scotia. I would charecterize the dwellings in and around Nerwport as mildly habitable part-time junk heaps with a dodgy air about them; complete with a large canine tied to a pile of hubcaps next to a tire fire. It was Friday so we stayed behind the Elementry School, lulled to sleep by motorway traffic. Halifax tomorrow.

Granville to Cambridge

Alright, the Annapolis Valley is getting a little old. Had an amazing fritata though in Bridgetown. We camped in a horse paddock.

Gilbert's Cove to Granville

Wind wind wind. Annapolis Royal is nice. We stopped at a pleasant looking farm and asked to stay. Ed and Pam agreed but only if we took a jar of Strawberry Rhubarb Jam with us. We're still averaging 75 km a day. Libraries still don't have facilities for putting pics online so . . . it'll be a little while.

Bartlett's Beach to Gilbert's Cove

The Acadian coast is nice. I have never seen so many people so proud of their imperial past. France is king here. People break effortlessly from French to grudging and accented English. The coffee is tasty and served with full on cream. We had poutine too (a local delicassy of freedom fries, cheese, and gravy). We rode this protien train all the way to Church Point.

We saw the world's tallest wooden church. Apparently god approves of charging admission and he/she enjoys all beef franks as much as I do.

We camped beside a lighthouse on the ocean.

On a side note - don't click on any links posted in the comments of this page. Vultures.

Nova Scotia!

We arrived at the ferry (the 15k hill climb comes into effect here too) in usual fashion - 5 minutes late. We got on though. The ferry is the high speed variety preferred by drug runners and those who prefer their seasickness in fast-forward. It's nickname is the "Vomit Rocket".

We arrived safely in Yarmouth and were again questioned by officials and once again sent to chat with the Department of Immigration. And yes, again issues of my sketchy employment history and our generally dodgy and nomadic ways were put forward for scrutiny. Everyone else in immigration with us had been singled out because they lacked a car as well - bunch of cheapskates. No Amish this time though.

We headed north, and camped on a Bartlett's Beach. Lovely, complete with fire pit. Cost $0. Having the only visitors show up while you're trying to do your business (apparently in plain view of the road), priceless - unless they charge for scarring memories these days.