New York City – July 29^th

A brief update - I haven’t posted for a few days because I didn’t think there would be much interest in a typical Big Apple tourist blog and that’s how I’ve been spending my time.  It’s been a mix of bike and subway riding and in summary, there have been a few changes since my last visit here in 1969.  Some bullets regarding them are as follows:

·         Over the years, vast sums of money poured into the city have washed away most of its former grit.  Times Square, which used to be down, dirty and even dangerous is now a tourist amusement park

and Harlem, where I was once glared at as a “whitey”, now appears to be occupied by a good minority of Caucasians (including former president Bill Clinton).  The changes are probably for the better but, truth be told, I kind of miss the city’s former edge.

• I’m amazed by the large number of huge multi-tower social housing projects, even in up-scale neighbourhoods. 

                                   

The city appears to have become a receptacle for a good portion of the area's poor.  Some projects appear to be tidy, well-run and reasonably safe but I suspect others are less so.  Packing low income people together like that probably explains why the US has such a drug problem.  Such projects are clearly social engineering gone awry and I’d be really scared living in the city if the welfare cheques ever stopped.

·         The two new World Trade Centre towers appear to be about 80% complete. 

                        

One wonders, however, why the powers that be would want to build more iconic targets for future generations of terrorists.  Speaking of such, that's one of the reasons I wouldn't want to live here.  Sooner or later, I suspect someone's going to do something really bad to this iconic city, such as  exploding a dirty (nuclear) bomb.

·         After decades of Hispanic immigration, New York is now almost as bilingual a city as Montreal.  This has provided me with a good opportunity to improve my limited Spanish.  I’ve also run into a lot of Francophones in the hostels and my similarly limited French is also getting intermittent workouts.  As the cliché goes, travel is so broadening…

 Considering its size, The city is reasonably if not totally bike-friendly.  Its topopgraphy is almost completely dead flat and there are numerous bike lanes, traffic-separated or otherwise, along major streets as well as a dedicated bike path along the Hudson and East River shores of Manhatttan Island. 

Minor annoyances are the surfeit of unnecessary (and long) traffic lights, which local pedestrians and cyclists typically ignore, and numerous vehicles that use the bike lanes as double-parking spaces.  The main protection cyclists have is that traffic is so congested that vehicles typically don't move fast enough to do any serious damage to them.

Returning to my day-to-day, I reunited with Nedo, my recently-acquired biking buddy and surrogate son at our previous Brooklyn hostel.  We changed hostels yesterday and are now ensconced in the Hostelling International (HI) hostel on Manhattan’s upper west side, a relatively ritzy part of town.  After spending last night here, however, we both agree that our more modest and laid back Brooklyn digs (the NYC Moore hostel) were nicer and a much better deal at almost half the price.  Too bad we didn’t know that before we booked here. 

To repeat, in my modest opinion, hostelling has to be the best way to travel, particularly when travelling alone.  You meet (and sleep with) interesting folks, young and older, from all over the world and  hostels are probably doing a better job of breaking down international barriers than are most diplomats.

That’s all for now, and probably this blog's last post .  Tonight a NY Yankees game with Nedo then tomorrow, a six-hour bus ride to Utica, NY where I’ll hook up with friends for a ride to Ottawa then home.

Near Rocky Point, Long Island – July 21^st

Another stealth camp and I’m becoming really annoyed with this biker-unfriendly area. 


There’s no reasonable motels or visible B & Bs, few campgrounds, either really upscale or fast food eateries – nothing in between - and the state park I aimed for on today’s ride was full.  This is understandable since it’s a mid-July Saturday and the weather’s nice but I’m surprised how few campgrounds there are.  In summary, I’m getting really frustrated and will be happy to see the end of the ride.

Anyway, today I put 55 miles on the clock on secondary highways through more-or-less flat country.  The weather was high 70s and sunny, the scenery was pretty if not exciting and I’m noticing the changing (lush) vegetation – oak/pine forests with lots of vines and undergrowth (typical Carolinian forest, I think) that’s strange to me.

I passed through the Hampdens, a VERY ritzy area, and after several miles of upscale and overpriced everything, unbelievable bumper-to-bumper traffic and hordes of upscale-looking tourists, I decided to leave the island’s south (open Atlantic) coast to the rich, famous and wannabes and ride the north coast, which some locals I met on yesterday’s ferry told me was somewhat more rural and normal.  So far, this has been the case.

I’m hoping to be in New York City – end of the ride – in two more days.  Hopefully a motel or at least a shower or a beach will show up tomorrow.

Brooklyn, July 23^rd

Finally, the end of the loaded ride!  I’m now ensconced in a hostel.  No more stealth camping!

Yesterday I put 40 miles on the clock.  The weather was reasonable – low 80s I estimate with a mix of sun and cloud.  I didn’t cover 40 miles of linear distance but backtracked and took a couple of scenic loops on some nice winding backroads (unfortunately often semi-clogged with Sunday traffic).  I also had a very brief ocean dip and managed to find an outdoor fresh water shower at a local beach, which raised my morale considerably.  I was prepared to ride further but when I saw the first motel I’d seen in a VERY long time at 3:30 PM, something snapped and I grabbed a room and semi-collapsed.  A real bed, air conditioning and hot water - what bliss!

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Today’s 42-mile ride was on secondary highways for the first 30 and major city boulevards for the last 12 miles.  The weather was hot but it cooled off in the afternoon with an almost thunder shower (20 minutes of very light rain).  Traffic was from the little I’ve seen of it to date very heavy throughout and the riding was not for the faint-hearted.  I rode through downtown Queens and about 500 traffic lights later, reached the hostel.  Metropolitan New York is huge and it took an amazing amount of time to travel apparently short distances on the city map I had. 

from the little I’ve seen of it to date_, Brooklyn is an extremely interesting city. 

 The hostel is in a former industrial area that’s just starting to re-invent itself as a hip neighbourhood.  There are lots of abandoned substantial factory buildings, some of which are being converted to loft housing and a few bars and restaurants.  It’s a shame to view the hollowing out of once mighty US manufacturing sector however and one wonders how the US is going to stay number one since they’ve out-sourced the manufacturing know-how that initially put them there.

I’ve just returned from a very Woody Allen-ish neighbourhood a few subway stops away where I grabbed (Indian) dinner.  It’s an amazing place with shops you probably wouldn’t see anywhere else.  They even have a bookstore that appears to be prospering without a single Clive Cussler, Stephen King or Tom Clancy tome.  For how much longer, I wonder.  All for now

En Route to Block Island – July 20^th

I’m writing this from a small ferry, rocking and rolling significantly on the open Atlantic.  This promises to generate a lot of typos.

We awoke to rain this morning, which promises to last for most of the day.  Nedo and I broke camp, then headed to the local diner for a heart-attack-on-a-plate good-bye breakfast. Nedo then left for the Connecticut coast and I headed for the Block Island ferry that will (hopefully!) connect with another ferry to Montauk at  the northern tip of Long Island.  The ferry is crowded with tourists so the island must hold some attraction, even on a rainy day.

Near Montauk – Later July 20^th

I arrived on Block Island at 10:30 ad had to wait for the Montauk ferry, which didn’t leave the island until 5 PM.  I spent some time cycling to the north end of the island – a real tourist trap and crowded
                                  

– and killed some time in the afternoon.  Again, the scenery was pretty – classic Atlantic coastline – but to BC eyes, somewhat mundane.  BC’s Gulf and Washington State’s San Juan Islands are far prettier.

The fast ferry ride to Long Island was interesting.  Sort of what it must have been like to ride on a WW2 PT boat – lots of rocking and rolling.  Like everything else around here however it sure wasn’t cheap.  $50 for me and the bike for a one hour ride.

I arrived at Montauk in the rain and rode to nearby Hither Hills State Park where I’d been told I could camp.  I passed a couple of low-end –looking motels that I would probably have stayed at along the way but they were both full – probably with fellow camper refugees.  When I reached the park, there were several “no camping” signs and it was getting dark.  I’ve therefore hopefully vanished into the forest and I’m writing this from my stealth campsite. 

It’s still raining but the forecast is for better weather tomorrow.  We’ll see.

I confess I’m getting really annoyed with this part of the world which despite its large population, appears to have few motels, no obvious B & Bs and hardly any campgrounds.  Both Europe and the western US and Canada are far more bike tourist friendly.  I’ll tough it out for the next few days to New York City but I really wouldn’t recommend that anyone else try this ride.  All for now.

Jamestown, Rhode Island, July 19^th.

We awoke to an overcast day with light morning drizzle and finally, a more civilized temperature! Today’s 46 mile ride through flat to rolling country was uneventful along secondary highways with occasional pretty but unremarkable scenery at best, commercial clutter at worst.  The latter included a McDonald’s, Sunoco, Stop’n Shop, Dunkin Donuts, 7 – 11, etc. folio that repeated itself every five miles or so.  I now realize why one never hears much about northeastern US bike tours.  Truth be told, there’s not much “there” here.  Nevertheless, the riding was mostly pleasant for a change, primarily because of the cooler temperature.

Rhode Island isn’t exactly bike friendly.  For example, you aren’t allowed to ride your bike across some major bridges.  An older gentleman with a pickup truck thankfully gave us a lift across one of them.  The roads too were difficult to ride with typically no shoulders and locally heavy traffic.  That said, there were also some nice winding country road stretches.

We reached Newport, RI about 5 PM and waited for a 6:30 ferry to take us here to Jamestown. 

The ferry trip was interesting because we were the only two paying passengers - our own private yacht!  The skipper was an ardent bike fan and we would up sitting in the wheelhouse with him assimilating a lot of local maritime lore as well as the present standings in the Tour de France, which he was following closely.  He even let Nedo drive the boat for a while!  We had a great time with the rest of the crew and were almost sorry to leave the ship.

We’re presently camped in a state park just outside town where we’ve just been fed and beered by the nice Connecticut family next door. 

That’s been the best part of this so-so tour – the many kind, helpful, entertaining and interesting people I’ve met along the way.  As I’ve said before, there’s nothing like wheeling into somewhere on a loaded bike to pick up good company and conversation.  That’s probably because we’re apparently a rarity in this part of the world.  I’ve seen NOBODY except Nedo on a loaded touring bike since I left Montreal and I’m very surprised about the apparent lack of a bike culture in most of New England.

Some more on Nedo, my riding buddy, at least until tomorrow.  He’s a 32-year old teacher from Copenhagen who’s been on the road for a year and a half, first riding from southern South America to Quito, Ecuador, then from San Francisco to Boston where we met.  He makes me seem like a dilettante.  He’s a great guy, we’ve bonded and he’s mercifully decided to reduce his usual pace a bit to ride with the old guy.  Unfortunately he has some family business to attend to in Connecticut, which I’m bypassing for Long Island so we’ll be parting company tomorrow.  We plan to meet again in the Big Apple next week however.

Tomorrow looks to be an easy day for me because I have to work around two ferry schedules to reach the northern tip of Long Island.  Riding down the Island to New York city promises to be much more traffic-free and much less hilly than the Connecticut coast.  Nedo would also prefer that route but can’t do it.  Anyway, it’s getting dark and buggy so I’m retiring to my tent.  All for now.

Near Tauton Mass. – July 18^th

The Odyssey resumed today after thre days of touristing in Boston.  Highlights included the JFK museum, a Red Sox (baseball) game at Fenway Park, the hostel itself and some of the interesting folks I met there including Nedo Gubster, my present riding partner.

I’m writing this from our very own closed State Park, near Tauton, Mass. Mass. where we’re camping after being assured by a former park ranger that we wouldn’t be bothered if we camped there.  So far so good…

We put 42 miles on the clock today in fairly flat country.  This would have been nothing muchunder normal conditions but the weather for most of the ride was brutally  hot  - high 90s.  I lost track of the number of gallons of various fluids \I drank en route.  The heat ended abruptly with a. severe thunderstorm just before we arrived here.  The sky grew dark as night and there was thunder, lightening and torrential rain for 45 minutes..  We fortunately were able to watch most of it from inside a friendly gas station/convenience store and escaped getting completely soaked. 

There are few motels in this part of the world and thos tat are there are very pricy.  Camping was therefore our preferred option. We didn’t know that the state park – still shown on our roadmaps - had been closed for two years until we arrived there.  When we pedalled into its abandoned campground determined to “stealth camp” there if required, we met Leon, a former park ranger now apparently marginally employed.  Leon hung out with us for a while and has now left us alone in the solitude of our private campground.  Tomorrow we should continue south to Newport, Rhode Island, then a ferry to the Connecticut mainland and eventually New York City.  That, I’ve decided, will be the end of the ride for me.  Anyway, it’s now dark, the bugs are out and I’m turning in early.  All; for now.

Boston – July 15^th

 I’m now in the City of Boston

The land of the bean and the cod
To take in some sites without biking
And rejuvenate my aching bod…

That about sums it up.  They’ll probably be no more posts for a few days as I poke around Boston and hopefully heal.  I’ve kept riding with a pulled leg muscle that’s slowly got worse and I’m now not sure if I’ll be able to continue...  The leg doesn’t bother me as long as I’m pedalling but setting up a tent, climbing stairs, etc. is becoming quite painful.  Anyway, enough of my aches and pains.  At my age, I’m probably lucky to still be able to travel this way and (somewhat) enjoy it.

Anyway, to backtrack, yesterday was mostly overcast but scorching hot.  I only rode 23 miles (about 35 km) into Portland but I was drenched in sweat by the time I arrived there.  The terrain was hilly for the first 7 km, but considerably flatter thereafter.  I didn’t take in any sights in Portland (there didn’t appear to be many) but biked directly to the train/bus station, an air conditioned oasis.

I’ve cheated and taken a bus here to Boston, where I’m going to hopefully heal and wait out the never-ending heat wave.  It’s supposed to be somewhat cooler this coming week and I’m hoping I’ll be able to continue riding.  Viewed through the bus window, the terrain between Portland and Boston appeared to be almost flat and I’m told it’s similarly flat between here and New York City.  Whether or not I’m prepared to spend a week riding through such flat, featureless country however, is an open question.  I’m now finding out why people don’t talk much about bike touring the US east coast.  All for now.

Near Freeport – July 13^th

I’m writing this from yet another campground, this one a few miles north of Freeport, ME, which is very near Portland.  Tomorrow I’ll ride into Portland and, on the advice of locals, take the Amtrack to Boston (apparently costs $25 and $5 for the bike – no bike box required, as in Europe, there’s a special bike car).  Apparently the ride between Portland and Boston isn’t great so who am I to blow against the wind…

Today’s 48-mile ride started well on a rail bike trail south along the Kennebec River  for the first seven miles south of Augusta. 

There was no wind and with an 8 AM start, a comfortable temperature. Once the rail trail ended, however, it was back to hills and increasing heat (high 80s) on a secondary highway with sparse traffic (Route 24) until Richmond, a small town north of Brunswick ME. There I met a couple of local rec. bikers who informed me (a.) of the Amtrack option to Boston and (b.) that I’d crossed Maine’s fat/skinny divide a few km north of the town. and (c.)  that the ride south would subsequently get less hilly, which was almost true except for the last five miles. The fat/skinny divide strangely seems to be holding up because the people I’ve subsequently observed today have definitely been skinnier.  Something in the water perhaps?  I’ve also now started meeting other recreational cyclists. 

During lunch at an excellent Indian restaurant in Brunswick ME, another local who struck up a conversation with me directed me to this “ must stay” campground. 

Truth be told, however, it’s kind of ordinary, even marginal by BC standards.  Living in “Supernatural BC”, one gets spoiled.  It’s on the Atlantic coast, which I’ve finally reached.  There’s apparently an air quality alert, today however, the horizon is an ominous pale orange and I’m wondering if I should be breathing the local brew.  This almost makes me nostalgic for some Vancouver rain (I stress the "almost").

Nevertheless, things here have worked out reasonably well.  I’ve been hob-nobbing and drinking beer with a 20-something foursome (two couples) who adopted me as I entered the campground and insisted I join them.  Everyone’s apparently curious about – or feels sorry for - the old guy on the loaded bike and I almost get more company than I want.  My reservations about such company quickly evaporate if they provide free beer however, as was the case here.  Anyway, it’s dark now, the bugs have arrived and so to bed.

Near Stratton, Maine – July 9, 2012

I’m writing this from a camp table near the Wifi “hot spot” in a nice lakeside campground about six km shy of Stratton.  It’s getting dark and cool so I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to carry on.

I can’t speak too highly of yesterday’s wonderful B & B hosts who besides plying me with wine and French immersion, fed me a gourmet breakfast this morning before I hit the road.

Today’s ride was, as I expected, hilly for the first 35 km

to about 5 km shy of the border crossing at Coburn, Maine (consisting of Canadian and American border posts and a gas station and nothing else). 

The rest of the ride was still somewhat hilly, but much with much smaller hills mainly because the route changed direction and began following the drainage southeast.  The weather was again ideal, sunny with a fresh tailwind breeze.  Nevertheless, I was somewhat fatigued after putting 77 km on the clock and stopped at this campground, which I’d been told was a good one.

Today’s low point occurred when I received a dressing-down from a local Homeland Security Gestapo guy when I innocently walked across the border with my bike to enter the US as a pedestrian (normal procedure at home in Blaine WA).  I’m now more convinced than ever that the US government uses Homeland Security as a dumping ground for its surly otherwise unemployable personnel, giving the biggest azzholes the most isolated border posts so they won’t pzz off as many foreigners.

The countryside changed significantly at the border, assuming a more New England appearance – wetter, moose pasture and more lakes – and bugs.  This is probably because I was now following a river valley.

Augusta ME – July 12

And on the seventh day, he rested…

It’s Friday morning and I’m writing this from a rather sterile Motel 6 just outside Augusta, the state capital.  I’ve had a couple of days hard riding through never-ending hills and I’m overdue for a day off the bike.

 On Wednesday, I rode about 85 km (57 miles – I changed the settings on my odometer after entering this unit-backwards country) from Stratton to just shy of Skowhegan ME.  Conditions were quite good – estimated mid-70s, a mix of sun and cloud and no significant wind.  The terrain, however, was as noted above, quite hilly and I was pretty tired by the time I arrived at the campground.

Maine, or at least that part of it, was almost undeveloped with none of the usual fast food joints, big box stores, motels etc. one typically encounters around mid-sized US and Canadian towns.  I was ready to grab a motel that night but couldn’t find one even in Madison, a fair-sized town with a pulp mill.  I was in fact having flashbacks of the Romanian part of my last year’s Danube tour by the end of the day.  The campground was a good one – even totally wired for Wifi

but I was too tired to do much more than check my E-mail and catch up on the news.

I finally reached America the Convenient at Skawhegan yesterday.  I’m now back in the land of fast and abundant food, dollar stores, etc. – all the necessities!

Yesterday’s ride to Augusta was short – about 65 km (43 miles on the odo.).  The weather was sunny and quite hot – mid 80s.  The terrain was reasonable for the first half of the ride (to Waterville) but degenerated into lots of short, steep hills for the rest.  Hill quantity and grade more than height or length wears one down on a loaded bike.  By the time I reached Augusta – the hilliest and most down-at-heel state capital I ’ve ever seen,



I was again very tired, dispirited, a pulled muscle in my left leg was bothering me and my aging body was crying out for a day off the bike .

I had an interesting interlude with the locals before I checked into the motel.  John, a 50-something local hippie and former Engineer, flagged me down and invited me home.  “Home” turned out to be sort of a hobo crash pad with assorted flotsam and jetsam hanging around.  I was initially apprehensive and worried that I’d landed amongst druggies who’d proceed to strip me and the bike of anything of value.  I soon realized they were simply OK people to whom life had thrown a few bad curves.  Mr. and Mrs. “Road-dog” – both 50-something and transients for several years - fed me some hobo stew, I bought them and the others some beer (and was immediately a hero), listened to some bad guitar playing – the guy was left handed so I couldn’t play his guitar myself – and enjoyed their company for a couple of hours.  It simply felt good to be sitting down!  John suggested I stay with the gang last night but my common sense and survival instinct kicked in and I politely deferred.  We parted with smiles all around.

I’ll probably get on my (unloaded) bike and check out Augusta’s limited attractions.  'with an early start, I should be able to make Portland and the Atlantic coast tomorrow.

A quick note on Maine generally.  Sorry to the natives but it’s sure not my favorite state.  The parts of Maine I’ve seen  to date seem rather backwards and past their prime, sort of like the US southeast.  Also I wasn’t expecting much in the way of scenery so I wasn’t disappointed but apart from a few isolated points of interest, I’ve found very little worth photographing.  It’s also seriously short of campgrounds (no camping in any Maine state parks I’ve seen or Googled), motels and B & Bs.  Hopefully the southern Maine coast will be more interesting and tourist-friendly.

Another thing - I thought there were a lot of fat people in small-town Quebec but when I hit the Maine border, I realized I hadn’t seen anything yet.  The number of not just fat, but really obese people has to be seen to be believed.  I haven’t seen this much per capita obesity since Mississippi/Alabama and down there, the locals at least have the excuse that it’s often too hot to move fast.  This has to be a major and as yet not seriously addressed national problem for the US and perhaps soon the Canadian government.  What to do about it, I honestly don’t know.  How do you get people to stop eating crap and start exercising?  Pedal-powered TVs perhaps?  Anyway, all for now.

La Patrie – July 8, 2012

I’m sitting in a very nice B & B in this pretty little town about 40 km from the Maine border. 

I thought I might make the border today but, after pedalling 80 km on a “roller coaster” secondary highway, I was getting bagged and I’d had enough. I’m guessing that today and tomorrow’s riding will be the most difficult of the trip.  I’m skirting the northern end of the Vermont and New Hampshire Appalachians and, while the topography on the Quebec side isn’t extreme, there’s still the typical Appalachian northeast-southwest topographic trend and the highway, which runs straight east-west, crosses ridge after ridge.  The hills aren’t extreme, today at any rate, but there are a LOT of them and looking at the approaching topography, tomorrow promises to be even hillier.  The weather was ideal – low 20s with a substantial cooling tailwind and a mix of sun and cloud and if it hadn’t been for the innumerable hills, I might even have enjoyed myself.  Once I reach the Maine border, the road appears to follow a river valley southeast towards Portland so riding there shouldn’t be too bad – famous last words!

I wheeled into town, found and got set up at the B & B, then went to the bar across the street to replenish my electrolytes and what do I run into in the Bar?  Cowboy music and country dancing francophones – that makes three days in a row!  Half the town must have been there on a Sunday afternoon, which confirms the Catholic church’s grip on Quebec is no more.  Les francophones appear to be party people.  I very much doubt that you’d get such a scene on a Sunday afternoon anywhere else in Canada.

Montreal to Washington Bike Tour - Days 2 and 3

Granby, Quebec – July 6, 2012

I’m motelling it tonight after the first day’s ride.  I can’t believe how much I’m paying for a second-rate motel.  Granby has about 60.000 people, isn’t without tourist attractions (according to Wikipedia) but has only three hotels, two of them first-class!  I did tell the desk clerk that I really didn’t think I needed the hooker, which I was sure the price must include.  Apparently it didn’t, however, so here I roost, alone and annoyed.  Granby really needs some Ugandan Indian-owned cheapo motels.

Anyway, back to the trip.  I arrived in Montreal about 7:30 PM Wednesday night uneventfully.  By the time I put my bike back together and rode the approximately 25 km into downtown Montreal in the dark, however, it was about 11 PM.  FYI, if you ride due south from Dorval airport to the river, there’s a riverside bike path that will eventually take you to downtown Montreal via the Lachine Canal.  I knew about the path because I’d ridden it ten years ago.

Yesterday was a semi-rest day, after a fitful night’s sleep in steamy heat.  Apparently whoever owns the Montreal IYH hostel figured we’d survive without air conditioning so they didn’t turn it on.  My three room-mates – a Swiss engineer, a Pakistan-Canadian grad student and a Korean kid who’d just completed an English immersion course - were excellent Thursday morning company.  There were no semi-housebroken nineteen year olds, which is always a possibility when hostelling. 

So, getting back to yesterday, I jumped on my bike sans baggage and spent the afternoon touring central Montreal. The tour included a climb up to Mont Royale Park, McGill University, St Catherine’s Street and the old port area. I also managed to catch a couple of Montreal |jazz Festival performances that I stumbled on en route

.

All in all, it was an interesting day, I now kind of know my way around the central city and the locations of many streets whose names appear in various Mordecai Richler novels.

I started out this morning in blistering heat and rode a modest 75 km in dead flat country.  The first part of the ride through interminable commercial sprawl, heavy traffic and hundreds of traffic lights lived down to my expectations.  Things improved somewhat when I hit a paved bike trail – an old rail bed - which carried me for the last 25 km into Granby.  Apparently there are several of these in la belle province, more than in BC.

The main problem I had was the heat – I lost track of how much water, Gator Aid, Coke, etc. that.I knocked back en route – and I was pretty well bagged by ride’s end.  I suspect it will take my aging body a few days to adapt to this sort of heat and humidity, which is forecast to continue for several more days at least.

Since I left Montreal Island, I’ve been in deepest Quebec.  To date, Quebecois culture appears to be like various unauthorized guidebooks describe it – Pepsi and Poutine, an interesting but not particularly attractive blend of redneck and French culture.  Some observations which may be expanded upon

·         There are lots of oversized Mussolini-modern churches and crosses from the pre-1960 theocracy that are often illuminated with naked household light bulbs.  Considering how secular contemporary Quebois appear to be, one wionders who maintains them.

·         I’ve just returned from a big-ass [Chinese] buffet where I was one of two or three non-obese patrons.  There are lots of other fatties on the street.  Granby reminds me of similar fat towns in Mississippi and Alabama I’ve passed through.  That could be what the French in France would look like if the food there wasn’t so expensive.

Near Sherbrooke – July 7^th

I’m sitting in a campground a few km before town.  70 km net again today, 80 onh the clocki after a few directional mistakes.  Rolling country, high overcast weather, low 20s temperature I suspect.

Riding today was somewhat more civilized temperature-wise.  I rode the first 25 km on a continuation of the former railway trail I rode yesterday – part of the Trans Canada Trail.  The rest was a combination of Quebec Highway 112, a secondary highway with sparse traffic, and another bike trail for the last 10 km.

The trail part of the ride was very civilized with periodic beverage stops and bike shops en route,  There were lots of locals on it (Saturday) and I ran into some nice ones en route.  getting complements on how well I speak it from les Quebecois.  I think they’re just being nice but I also think I speak it as well as some of them speak English.

I decided to try camping after my $120 plus motel last night and I’m now ensconced in a huge trailer park.  There must be three or four hundred mobile homes here in the middle of nowhere with nothing much to commend it.  There are several nice large lakes in the area but here, there’s one sub-Olympic-sized pool for several hundred families in what appears to be a former forest cut block.  It's strange that such a large campground wouldn’t be on a lake somewhere.

I’m getting my nose rubbed in small-town Quebecois culture again.  Tonight’s highlight is the big Western dance In the trailer park’s restaurant/ballroom.  It’s very strange.  The music’s all US country and there’s a large group of 50 to 70 something retirees who appear to have gone to the same night school dance class tripping the light country/western fantastic – line dancing, Texas two-step etc.  I saw the same thing in Granby last evening.  ‘Quebecois hicks appear to be even hickier than ours.

There’s not too much else to talk about today, it’s just about dark, the mosquitos have come out so I’m going to bed early.  I’ll hopefully hit the Maine border tomorrow and try to post this from a Macdonald’s in Sherbrooke (no Wifi here).  All for now.

North Vancouver - Sunday July 2nd, 2012

My Facebook page's "blog" feature having  inexplicably been de-activated, I'm switching this forthcoming trip  blog to this site.  This entry is primarily to familiarize myself with the site's features.

It's raining again today!  I'm temporarily benched work-wise, and desperate for some warmth and sunshine after enduring  this just-passed cold, rainy Vancouver "June-uary". I've therefore decided to fly to Montreal with my bike and touring gear, ride from there to approximately Portland Maine on the US east coast, ride south for a month, ship my bike and/or fly with it from wherever I wind up  to Seattle, then bike or bus home.   As long as I'm involuntarily retired, I might as well enjoy the summer.

Biking "America the Convenient" promises to be a lot less hassle-free and challenging than various European countries I've previously tackled .   I'm not anticipating much in the way of scenery on this trip but there should be lots of historical/cultural stuff to take in.  Also, except for the start of the tour where it appears I'll have to cross one or more Appalachian mountain ranges, the terrain appears to be somewhat flatter than I'm used to.  We'll see.  All for now.