I imagine anyone unfamiliar with the bike touring life would think I was some crazed vagrant at the moment. I'm sitting on the front porch of a stranger's house, looking at my sunburnt, wild-haired, unshaven face in the reflection of the patio door, eating a bag of crackers, charging my cell phone. I have no access to a washroom. I imagine if I have to piss in the yard that would really complete the image. Now see, this is the sort of sleeping outside I like, the kind I don't have to pay for.
After my host and his son made me an excellent breakfast of potatoes, eggs, and toast, I was off by around 7:30, on my own again, no cell signal to connect me to anyone. I like being alone for the most part; there's a reason I solo tour, but I also like having cell service and being able to reach out to friends and family and the world at large. It's probably a good exercise for me to learn how to get by without that, to be able to sit here right now on this porch, with a beautiful view of Lake Erie probably just 50 feet away, cool breeze blowing, a local cat sniffing me out, and be able to appreciate this moment without having to share it with anyone else or have anyone else sharing theirs with me right this moment. It's okay to be alone. Besides, I'm a crazy vagrant dude after all; there's always the voices in my head to keep me company.
Today would have been almost an 85 mile, day if I had taken the straight shot. ...I don't know, and I don't want to know, how long I made it with my meanderings, maybe over 100 miles. I stuck just about as close as I could to the lakeshore, most of the time along the "Waterfront Trail" route, as advertised by many signs along the way. ...Honestly a good chunk of time it wasn't that close to the lake and much of the time even when it was, all you could see was farmland with hints of the lake beyond it. But I still got some great views of the lake today for my efforts.
There was a nice beach at Port Bruce and another at Port Burwell, as well as a neat submarine. It was as I left Burwell that I messed up and missed a turn. See, the roads along the lake here often come to abrupt ends for whatever reason, forcing you to go away from the shore aways, then a mile or more down take a road right back, thus doing a lot of zigzagging. As I moved away from the lake shore, I missed my turn to go east so I could later head south and reconnect with the lake, ending up on a curving road I knew wasn't right. To correct my error, I ended up taking a different road east and then a terrible gravel road to get me back south, one that sent me barrelling down to a bridge and then right back up a steep climb on the other side before finally connecting me to the road I wanted. I wasn't in a good mood about the detour, or about the day in general for whatever reason. But I got a (pricy) ice cream cookie at a gas station down the road to lift my spirits, and then decided the hell with it and took a deliberate detour I did end up appreciating. I headed in the direction of Long Point. I would have loved to go out as far as the provincial park, out on a long strip of land jutting east into the lake...but I told myself I just couldn't spare the time with all the miles I still had yet to cover. But I did see the Big Creek wildlife area and that was well worth the couple extra miles to it and back, beautiful marshland.
I picked up speed after that, the wind with me, and made good time as I headed along Front Road. In the proximity of Turkey Point park I was passed by three women on road bikes. They then stopped to rest and I passed them. Then they passed me again, of course. But then they hit a very steep hill and had to walk up it. And well, I have to admit it was a good feeling getting to drop into really low gear, and with 50lbs of stuff on my bike and my big wide tired mountain touring bike climb my way right past those ladies on their high-end road bikes with their acrobats and skinny tires. People can judge my touring bike choice all they want, but the 920 does everything I ask of it. Bree is the bike for me. I'd love to say that slow and steady won the race, but much later they did catch up to me again. This time we chatted for awhile, my only real interaction of the day, them of course asking about my tour. They then passed on by me. ...But one of them ended up stopped at the bottom of a hill, threw a chain, and after passing them that time, I didn't see them again. So, steady and reliable wins the race? I felt a little bit like I should have stopped, but a thrown chain seemed is normally a thirty second fix, and it had been on an uphill where I wasn't really wanting to lose my momentum. In all likelihood, I assume, they just got to the end of their ride shortly after.
Funny enough, crossing a bridge in Port Dover I would throw my own chain on the front trying to change gears much too fast, right as I hit a bump. It's only the second time I've thrown it all trip. Thankfully there was a sidewalk to jump on out of the way of traffic and it was all fine. I rode fast and hard from there with barely a stop until I reached Selkirk. I used the washroom and got a spot of public wifi at the small museum there, enough to take care of a few essentials. Then I carried on, riding an actual lake front road to get here, this house right off the lake where my absent hosts live, letting me camp outside of it like the vagrant I am. It shouldn't rain tonight. There's a water cooler, so I have water. If I had just asked for their wifi password (and you know, maybe had access to a washroom), things would be perfect.
I have just one last night in Ontario tomorrow, and the next day I will see Niagara Falls, the climax of my tour around the Great Lakes.
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