Until Next Time

Derek and I set out with a quicker pace in mind from Little Current on August 14. We had our eyes set on Thessalon, where Derek spent three months (as part of a Canadian youth program called Katimavik) working in the town office in 2006. We spoiled ourselves with one rest day, and were off once again toward Sault Sainte Marie, intent on finding a bike shop.


In the Soo we found a shop without much hassle. The bike shops guys asked us the usual questions about where we were headed and where we planned to sleep. Answers: Vancouver and no idea. They said there was another bike shop nearby that offered free hospitality for touring cyclists, a place called Velorution. Excellent! With directions and hopeful spirits, we were off in search of camping in the city.


We arrived at the camp scene to find a girl sitting at a picnic table. I looked incredulously at her for a second before delivering my opening line: "Hey, same colors," motioning from her outfit to mine. We were wearing almost the exact same clothes. She happened to be the first solo touring female I had come across, and it was trippy because she looked just like me. Her name was Sydney from New Brunswick. She had started in Vancouver a month and half prior and was more than halfway home.


A "superior" beach we later stumbled upon:



Dinner time:

When we reached Nipigon on August 22, I had a conversation with my Mom that changed my plans. Due to a number of factors, mainly the time constraints and inhospitable weather that Derek and I would be faced with while trying to reach Vancouver by October 1, my Mom convinced me to come home. :(


Seeing as the end of my trip was approaching, we decided to splurge and get a motel room that night. We agreed on a sixty dollar maximum. A couple of kilometers after Nipigon, we came upon a motel and decided to try our luck. Derek stayed outside while I went in to ask about a price. "Seventy-eight dollars," the man said.


I said, "Thank you anyway," and turned to leave.


"Wait," he said. "How much were you looking to spend?"


I told him. He said it could be arranged.


The next day, we made it into Thunder Bay, found the Greyhound station, and I purchased a ticket to New York. It had been fifty-six days since I left Pawling, and I'd come 1,930 miles, (what if we called it 2,000? could we?) which was nearly double my initial goal. This should have felt like an extraordinary achievement, yet all I could think about was riding alone on a bus, looking at a long separation from my great cycling companion, Derek. Instead of feeling sad, I'm trying to look forward to our next bicycle adventure, which will be no doubt be all the more fantastical, eh? That is what I'm telling myself. In a Canadian accent.

Thank you--family, friends, internet folk, everyone who has read this blog! It made the tour even more exciting to know that whether luck was on my side or not, ya'll would still be expecting an update. Derek is still out there, so head over to his blog--the link is on your righthand side.


Signing off guys... 

until next time......