cycleyogini

The trip to Blomidon Provincial Park made clear that cycling with Zander’s seat was hard on the knees and the hills of Cape Breton were simply not possible. In addition, the set up of the trailer was not appropriate for the Surly Troll design. Sooo—I rented a car, and Zander and I took off for a driving tour. The comparison of bicycle and car touring provided many insights.

Even as I drove up from Truro, the landscape began to change, and the hills became more longer and steeper. I was consistently evaluating each section “as if” I would ride it as a cyclist. Even though the hills on the Cabot Trail are much more challenging, simply getting to Cape Breton from Truro would test a cyclist resolve. When we passed several bicycle tourers, I was flooded with a longing to be on the bicycle, pedaling slowly up each of those hills. I am not sure how to explain how the process of cycling through the landscape changes the way a cyclist views the world, shapes the cyclist’s body and understanding of the world, and becomes addictive as a way of movement. Furthermore, as I would discover, it also shapes how people interact with Zander and I. However, the hills would have been murder on my knees, so it was a wise choice to drive. The landscape is gorgeous, and the rains had turned it very green. But driving allowed for few opportunities to stop and take pictures until we got over the causeway and on the Ceilidh Trail.

Collecting Scents

We stopped at the first turn-out and viewpoint which paralleled a bicycle-walking-ATV trail. Zander and I walked a fair distance along the path. While I took photos, Zander collected scents from each place we stopped! I am hoping to have him bathed and groomed before we fly home!! We will only see a small portion of Cape Breton that highlights the magnificent scenery.

However, the island is dotted with reminders of its resource extractive industries: the Troy Quarry we passed just west of the causeway that has left a huge scar on the land, clear-cutting patches, signs indicating old gold mines, the coal mines that once existed near Sydney, and sites of old settlements that were established for logging or mining purposes now wilderness sites along the Cabot Trail.

Our first campsite was at Cheticamp Campground within the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. We went in to town to get a lobster dinner “to go,” because it was too hot to leave Zander in the car. I ordered the smallest lobster (2.5 pounds) and thought the woman said they would crack it, but couldn’t provide any other utensils for getting the meat out. Well, she had actually said they wouldn’t crack it—and 2.5 pounds of lobster is a lobster bigger than I have ever seen!! Seriously—that is a lot of lobster!! But my faithful Swiss Army knife came to the rescue! It was neither elegant nor pretty, but I got every bit of that lobster meat out! And it was delicious. Of course, Zander got some (minus the butter) and thought it was good too!

The next morning, we were up early. One of the wardens stopped us, because she had found a beautiful white dog with a red T-shirt wondering loose in the campground. We had not seen it before. We walked through the campground hoping to meet someone looking for a dog, but no such luck. As we left, we stopped at the warden station to leave some food. Fortunately, the owner had arrived. They had come in late, and the person who had attached the leash had attached it incorrectly. The T-shirt was covering a scar healing from surgery. It had been the longest 15 minutes of the woman’s life. What a great way to start the morning!

We saw the fishing boats out, so I pulled over and we walked along a small beach. The boats were coming back in to retrieve lobster traps. We stayed awhile to watch them move along their lines and allow Zander to dip his paws into the water. Then, up and around the northern tip; we stopped at most of the viewpoints.

Fishing Cove

My favorite was Fishing Cove, which lies 335 metres below MacKenzie Mountain. This lonely spot was a thriving Scottish settlement that fished for cod and lobster and farmed with a lobster cannery. By 1915, the descendants of these pioneer families had all moved to neighboring communities. Today, this site is now a wilderness campsite accessible by an 8 km hiking trail. I only wished we had the gear and time to enjoy the site!

Before we knew it, we were at Baddeck. I was amazed at the difference in how much distance and how little time it took with the car. But I was saddened that it was bereft of conversations, smells, a sense of being shaped by the landscape. Baddeck is a small town and clearly focused on tourism–lots of B&Bs, resorts, a few restaurants, the classic restaurants and cafes, and the typical Home Hardware and Co-op Grocery Store. The weather had turned hot (+28 C), leaving Zander in the car was not an option, and few places had shade for parking. Because my gut wasn’t feeling so good, I opted for the cheapest room in Baddeck that would take a dog–the Inverary Resort and Spa. It was okay, but this traveling is so different and doesn’t allow for meeting people. Without pulling up on a bicycle with gear, people simply serve you. As I walked to our room, I passed an older gentleman sitting in a car, door open, head almost between his knees. I asked if he was okay. He seemed annoyed, almost angry, when I expressed concern.The etiquette and connection between people is just different in these other zones of travel.

All of these experiences led me to contemplate what I truly enjoyed about traveling–especially bicycle travel. Would joining a Freewheeling tour be enjoyable? Would a custom tour work? What is so appealing about traveling alone with all my gear? Could it be modified? If so, how? Do I enjoy seeing all the historical sites, museums, etc? But I am sure that I do enjoy the act of cycling the landscape and the exposure to the land with all of its smells, ups and downs, weather, etc. There is something about that process that changes how I relate to the world, know that part of the land, and come to understand myself and the people there.

The next morning, we left Baddeck headed for Wolfville. First, we stopped at Black Brook beach before it got too hot. It was a great place to take a walk up along the Black Brook, more like a river, along the beach, and up and through the coastal trail. We could see the river running into the sea, the fresh water mingling with the sea water, and the tides pushing back on the river currents. We walked along the coastal trail and some side trails to get better views of Black Brook Beach and the waterfall–including Zander sitting on an Adirondack chair to enjoy the view. Zander also had great fun collecting all the different scents, chasing squirrels and chipmunks, and generally sniffing.

A little further down the road, we also checked out Whycocomagh Provincial Park. Although I was glad I had opted for the motel, this would have been a great campground. And oh the squirrels and chipmunks!! Even though it was hot, we spent a fair amount of time scaring up squirrels and chipmunks as we explored the campground and trails, saw the yurts, and talked with people who were staying there. Zander even scared up a whole bunch of grouse. The mother grouse froze, standing tall like a stick. Zander went slowly a little closer, but when he realized it wasn’t a squirrel, he turned back. She flew up into the low branches of a tree to join her brood.

We stopped in Windsor, just shy of Wolfville, for the night. The next day, we drove into Wolfville just before Sue and John took off for Prince Edward Island. It was a quick trip, and I’m glad we went. Even as I felt the tug of the pedals with each bicycle tourer, the lack of pain in my knees tells me it was a wise decision.