roadtripping.

A tour of the Niagara Peninsula: proof to the innocent that bicycle camping is actually fun.

continued from page 5

In the morning the day broke as lovely as ever. The sky was blue, the fish were jumping. We made some espresso and heated up our scotch broth for breakfast. This would be our hardest day yet.

First off, the computer went missing (another example of electrical things giving us trouble). Greg was sure he'd put it in his shirt pocket the night before, but considering the night before, it wasn't too surprising that something had gone missing. We searched for an hour. I had already packed up the tent and sleeping bags, so I unpacked everything to go through them. Greg searched the beach and asked everyone he met if they'd seen it. Finally we gave up. He was brushing his teeth, I was outside slumped against our gear when a man approached me.
"Are you from Toronto?"
"Yes."
"You rode here?"
"Yes."
"I think your friend lost this."
It was the computer! It had fallen out of Greg's pocket when he was washing the coffepot, and been carried about five metres out into the lake. The fellow had been fishing in a little boat when he saw it on the bottom. Greg was thrilled that it had been found, and hoped it would work again when it dried out. Meanwhile, it was getting on for three o'clock, and we had intended to ride back to Ball's Falls to see it by daylight. And I had to be at work the next day.

We rode south to Jordan to get back to the falls, stopping at an orchard on the way to get some fruit. When the farmer heard how far we'd ridden, he not only gave us fresh cold water, but pears and apples. He would have given us a bushel of peaches if we'd let him, but we had enough gear to begin with. As we passed through Jordan, a woman called out to us: "You look hot and thirsty! come in and have a glass of wine!" So we did. A couple, actually (they were small), and bought a chilled bottle for later. Then came escarpment climb number three. These things get easier the more you do them.

The falls are beautiful by daylight: a thin stream of water tumbling over high rock cliffs that fall a hundred meters. We sipped our wine under a little bridge, then found some more privacy by hopping a fence and balancing on a narrow ridge; the stone wall of the mill on one side, a hundred metre drop on the other. We finished the wine lying on the grass basking in the sun. Greg made a suggestion:
"Why don't we ride back down to Jordan, get another bottle of wine, and do it all again?"
"Sure! Yes!"
"Honey, I was kidding." I think he thought he'd created a monster.

But we still had to get as far as Burlington that night.

We decided to take the ridge road, figuring that now that we were at the top of the escarpment, we'd have no more climbing to do. But we went up. And up. And up. Eventually we passed a hydro communications tower; these things are always built at the highest possible elevation for miles around, so we knew we'd reached the top. We stopped a couple of times to check our map and eat some more fruit. Every other day we consumed litres of gatorade and bushels of powerbars, aside from regular meals, but this day all we'd eaten was fruit, and all we'd drunk was wine and water. Not a good idea. It was getting dark and I was getting crabby. And I can be frightening when I'm hungry. we checked the map and figured that any road we took north would take us down into stoney creek, where we'd have to find a decent restaurant. the descent was steep, pitch black, with all sorts of unexpected switchbacks and signs warning us not to go faster than 10 kmph. Finally the road evened out into something resembling civilisation. and i was ravenous. We stopped at a convenience store to get a little something to tide us over. I grabbed a bag of chips and started eating them immediately. The cashier made a joke about eating things before taking them through the checkout; I frightened him with my glare. I had to be reminded what humour was. Greg then tried as quickly as possible to get me to a restaurant for some real food. Unfortunately, Stoney Creek does not have restaurants, or at least none were open at ten p.m. on Labour Day. When we found the inevitable Chinese restaurant we ordered dinner for two without even looking at the menu. There was a television and Greg commandeered the remote control. I wolfed my food and three cups of coffee and promptly fell asleep at the table.

Greg was really worried at that point: here I was, asleep in a Chinese restaurant, and he was going to put me on a bicycle? But there was no choice. We headed for Confederation Park, me operating fully on automatic. We got to the park and rode circles around it before finding an open gate. I fell asleep on a picnic table while Greg set up the tent. I don't even remember him tucking me into a sleeping bag.

That morning we got a rude awakening from a park employee who was picking garbage. He was really rude; I think he was just jealous. We found a beachside cafe and loaded up on carbohydrates. It was almost ten when we were leaving, so I called work (I was supposed to be there at ten) to say I would be late. we figured if we could make it to oakville I could hop on a go train and be there by one. It was not to be.

The riding was hard. It seemed twice as hard as it had been climbing. Finally in Burlington we came across a bike shop where they let us use their guage to check our tyres. We were riding at half pressure! After pumping them up things went a lot easier, but is was plain that I wouldn't make the train and there was no way i'd get to work. Oh well. I called in and we decided to make it a leisurely ride home. Our only deadline was a nine p.m. art opening.

This time we got to take all the trails we'd missed when we took the go train four days before. Mississauga has especially beautiful trails: wide, well maintained and landscaped. We stopped for margaritas in Port Credit and I thought of my doubtful friend who didn't think i'd make it that far.

We rode into Toronto just in time for the opening. We showered, put on real, unwrinkled clothes for the first time in days, and made a dashing entrance with our trusty steeds, ready to bore all comers with tales of our adventures. It wasn't until the last ride home that night that we became aware of our saddlesores: we had to ride back standing up. We made a lot of mistakes, but that's to be expected the first time around. But it was an incredible experience. And it was definitely memorable.

see other road trip stories

www.smartygirl.net is hosted by 1&1

links:
roadtrip stories mapquest
roadside attractions
bed'n'breakfasts in canada
time and weather for cities around the world