On a bed of California stars
Id like to lay my weary bones tonight
On a bed of California stars...
- Billy Bragg & Wilco - "California Stars"
Caliper Lake – Taylor’s Cove
128 kms / 79 miles
As I opened the flap to my tent that morning I immediately noticed that the shell of my tent was dry. I recall from previous camping trips that dry tent in the morning is a sure sign of rain. Ross subsequently coined the phrase:
“Dry tent in the morning, bikers take warning…”
I looked at the sky and sure enough, it was looking rather grey and ominous. Having said that, I slept wonderfully well and felt ready to ‘face’ the rain… even to go so far as to embrace it…. I am trying so hard to be more tolerant and not to let the weather affect my mood even though this is sometimes a challenge. I was speaking with Michael about meditation and how through meditation you learn to become ‘one’ with the world around you so perhaps my newfound love for rain will be the first test of my meditating abilities…
I didn’t have too much breakfast as I am not a huge fan of potatoes in the morning but did manage to devour a huge bowl of oatmeal and was ready to hit the road very early compared to the previous day’s 9am start. Brendan and I pulled out of Caliper Lake at around 7:15am and made very good time throughout the morning. In spite of feeling a bit lethargic we managed to keep a good pace over the 60kms to Emo. The landscape here is slightly hilly with some long bends but still relatively flat. The road is now surrounded on both sides by forests and some fields. Many of the areas we cycle through are land from the First Nations.
By the time we reached Emo, the sky had turned an ominously grey color and lightning was seen to flash off in the distance. I must admit, I was watching the storm during my last 30kms into Emo and this did help in considerably increasing my speed as I tried to ‘out bike’ the storm in an effort to stay dry as long as possible. A quick ‘refueling’ stop was made at the Emo Esso station and we decided to meet again for food in Fort Frances which was another 30 kms down the road. By this point the rain had begun to fall and I put on my rain gear whilst Brendan and Andrew sped off ahead. My strategy worked as by the time I had put the rain gear on it had nearly stopped raining..! So, off came the layers again (another excuse for a pit stop).
The 30kms into Fort Frances (pop. 9000) went quite quickly and I passed the 20-or-so-odd chain restaurants (Dairy Queen, Burger King, Pizza Hut etc.) which welcome you into Fort Frances and finally caught up with Andrew and Brendan at Tim Hortons where they were devouring one of the daily specials. Devouring is the key word here – it took about 9 minutes from walking into Timmy’s to walking out with a stomach full of chili, a roll, a donut, and a coffee including a debrief from Brendan and Andrew on the road conditions and fitness update. We were hoping for an easy 30km finish into Taylors Cove. During this discussion (between bites of chili and gulps of coffee) I could not help but notice that the sky was becoming darker and darker and that the giant rain cloud that Brendan had bet me 5$ wouldn’t hit us back in Emo was getting dangerously close to Fort Frances.
Andrew and Brendan sped off to beat the rain and I finished digesting my donut and readjusting my bicycle shorts before hopping on my saddle ready to tackle the final kilometers into camp. I hadn’t gone more than about .02kms when it started to rain… and rain… and rain… and rain.. and rain. I was saturated… actually I was more than saturated – I was super saturated even before I had the chance to put on any sort of rain gear. I’ve realized that the thing I hate most about being wet is the feeling of ‘getting’ wet when the rain slowly starts to trickle down the back of your neck and down into your shirt… when it streams down from your legs into your socks and when it sprays up from the road and into your shoes leaving you with sopping wet feet which make a ‘slosh, slosh, slosh’ sound with every turn of the pedals.
I had assumed by Brendan’s ‘hard core’ talk between chews at Tim Hortons that he had sped off ahead and was furiously peddling his way through the torrential rain and thunder and lightening so I squinted my eyes and clenched my teeth and created bike size tidal waves against the tsunamis from the passing trucks. It got to the point where it was raining so hard that I could hardly see and it was like I was cycling through a 30km puddle that used to be a road. The most ironic thing about t
he entire trip is that I was cycling along a lovely, picturesque lake called, ‘Rainy Lake’. The god of weather clearly has a sense of humor…
I was so soaking wet after a few minutes that there was no real point in stopping as I’d only get cold so I went the final 30kms in the pouring rain and didn’t stop until I reached the Taylors Cove sign and turned in. Of course, this is precisely when the rain subsided and I coasted down the muddy drive to reach a gorgeous lake bordered by a white lodge / patio with some boat docks jutting out from the coastline. To my surprise, Andrew, Erik and Peter were the only ones there…!! I’d even beat Brendan but had no idea where he hid from the storm as I certainly hadn’t passed him. It was only 1:45pm and I was already in camp – hooray!
Over the course of the next 2 hours everyone arrived (including Brendan who had found shelter during the storm wi
th Gary who wards off rain) and set up their tents along the waters edge. Over the course of that same 2 hours the rain and cloud TOTALLY disappeared to reveal a gorgeous clear blue sky and blazing sun. The lake is gorgeous – clean and swimmable. The water we drink actually comes directly from the lake..! I went for a fantastic swim and crossed the lake twice – it felt great to stretch some different muscles and feel the virtual weightlessness being in the water. Swimming seems to take so much less effort and energy than cycling. The weather also cleared up to reveal an absolutely gorgeous summers evening. It was total ‘cottage country’ feel. Bliss..! I was so relaxed and happy and felt so nice and clean after the swim and shower and the warmth of the sun.
A delicious meal of pasta and peanut butter and chocolate squares was prep
ared and presented by the Galley Crew. Yum..!
128 kms / 79 miles
As I opened the flap to my tent that morning I immediately noticed that the shell of my tent was dry. I recall from previous camping trips that dry tent in the morning is a sure sign of rain. Ross subsequently coined the phrase:
“Dry tent in the morning, bikers take warning…”
I looked at the sky and sure enough, it was looking rather grey and ominous. Having said that, I slept wonderfully well and felt ready to ‘face’ the rain… even to go so far as to embrace it…. I am trying so hard to be more tolerant and not to let the weather affect my mood even though this is sometimes a challenge. I was speaking with Michael about meditation and how through meditation you learn to become ‘one’ with the world around you so perhaps my newfound love for rain will be the first test of my meditating abilities…
I didn’t have too much breakfast as I am not a huge fan of potatoes in the morning but did manage to devour a huge bowl of oatmeal and was ready to hit the road very early compared to the previous day’s 9am start. Brendan and I pulled out of Caliper Lake at around 7:15am and made very good time throughout the morning. In spite of feeling a bit lethargic we managed to keep a good pace over the 60kms to Emo. The landscape here is slightly hilly with some long bends but still relatively flat. The road is now surrounded on both sides by forests and some fields. Many of the areas we cycle through are land from the First Nations.
By the time we reached Emo, the sky had turned an ominously grey color and lightning was seen to flash off in the distance. I must admit, I was watching the storm during my last 30kms into Emo and this did help in considerably increasing my speed as I tried to ‘out bike’ the storm in an effort to stay dry as long as possible. A quick ‘refueling’ stop was made at the Emo Esso station and we decided to meet again for food in Fort Frances which was another 30 kms down the road. By this point the rain had begun to fall and I put on my rain gear whilst Brendan and Andrew sped off ahead. My strategy worked as by the time I had put the rain gear on it had nearly stopped raining..! So, off came the layers again (another excuse for a pit stop).
The 30kms into Fort Frances (pop. 9000) went quite quickly and I passed the 20-or-so-odd chain restaurants (Dairy Queen, Burger King, Pizza Hut etc.) which welcome you into Fort Frances and finally caught up with Andrew and Brendan at Tim Hortons where they were devouring one of the daily specials. Devouring is the key word here – it took about 9 minutes from walking into Timmy’s to walking out with a stomach full of chili, a roll, a donut, and a coffee including a debrief from Brendan and Andrew on the road conditions and fitness update. We were hoping for an easy 30km finish into Taylors Cove. During this discussion (between bites of chili and gulps of coffee) I could not help but notice that the sky was becoming darker and darker and that the giant rain cloud that Brendan had bet me 5$ wouldn’t hit us back in Emo was getting dangerously close to Fort Frances.
Andrew and Brendan sped off to beat the rain and I finished digesting my donut and readjusting my bicycle shorts before hopping on my saddle ready to tackle the final kilometers into camp. I hadn’t gone more than about .02kms when it started to rain… and rain… and rain… and rain.. and rain. I was saturated… actually I was more than saturated – I was super saturated even before I had the chance to put on any sort of rain gear. I’ve realized that the thing I hate most about being wet is the feeling of ‘getting’ wet when the rain slowly starts to trickle down the back of your neck and down into your shirt… when it streams down from your legs into your socks and when it sprays up from the road and into your shoes leaving you with sopping wet feet which make a ‘slosh, slosh, slosh’ sound with every turn of the pedals.
I had assumed by Brendan’s ‘hard core’ talk between chews at Tim Hortons that he had sped off ahead and was furiously peddling his way through the torrential rain and thunder and lightening so I squinted my eyes and clenched my teeth and created bike size tidal waves against the tsunamis from the passing trucks. It got to the point where it was raining so hard that I could hardly see and it was like I was cycling through a 30km puddle that used to be a road. The most ironic thing about t
he entire trip is that I was cycling along a lovely, picturesque lake called, ‘Rainy Lake’. The god of weather clearly has a sense of humor…I was so soaking wet after a few minutes that there was no real point in stopping as I’d only get cold so I went the final 30kms in the pouring rain and didn’t stop until I reached the Taylors Cove sign and turned in. Of course, this is precisely when the rain subsided and I coasted down the muddy drive to reach a gorgeous lake bordered by a white lodge / patio with some boat docks jutting out from the coastline. To my surprise, Andrew, Erik and Peter were the only ones there…!! I’d even beat Brendan but had no idea where he hid from the storm as I certainly hadn’t passed him. It was only 1:45pm and I was already in camp – hooray!
Over the course of the next 2 hours everyone arrived (including Brendan who had found shelter during the storm wi
th Gary who wards off rain) and set up their tents along the waters edge. Over the course of that same 2 hours the rain and cloud TOTALLY disappeared to reveal a gorgeous clear blue sky and blazing sun. The lake is gorgeous – clean and swimmable. The water we drink actually comes directly from the lake..! I went for a fantastic swim and crossed the lake twice – it felt great to stretch some different muscles and feel the virtual weightlessness being in the water. Swimming seems to take so much less effort and energy than cycling. The weather also cleared up to reveal an absolutely gorgeous summers evening. It was total ‘cottage country’ feel. Bliss..! I was so relaxed and happy and felt so nice and clean after the swim and shower and the warmth of the sun.A delicious meal of pasta and peanut butter and chocolate squares was prep
ared and presented by the Galley Crew. Yum..!As I sat on a rock by the waters edge Brendan approached me and said, ‘I am going to ask you a question and you have about 5 seconds to give me an answer. There is a pow wow tonight on one of the reserves and Cullen is going and has asked us to come along – are you in..?’ It took less than 1 second to make up my mind and I was in the truck in about 3 seconds. It was so exciting to get ‘out of camp’ and into an actual truck and see something different…! Andrew, Brendan, Cullen, Jocelyn and I all went and it was such a fantastic evening.
I’ve been to a few pow-wows in Moraviantown as well as in my high school where we had an annual pow wow. It had been a long time since I’d been and it was a fantastic experience, particularly for Brendan, Andrew and Jocelyn who had never been to one. When we arrived the sun had just begun to set which cast a gorgeous glow over the grounds. We were the only tourists and everyone seemed to be dressed up in their traditional costumes with the drums slowly beating from within the pavilion. We explored the grounds a bit and found a nice spot on
one of the bleachers and watched the dancing. The first dance was the Grand Entry where the chiefs came in followed by the men and then the women. The men wore beautiful feather headdresses and long colorful outfits adorned with eagle feathers and beads and intricately beaded boots and some carried hammer-like objects also covered with feathers. The women wore ‘jingle dresses’ which are relatively simple dresses which are covered in silver ‘bells’ which jingle as they walk. It was a lovely sight and some, especially the men, really got into their dancing. There were 7ish drums and ‘Nations’ which took turns playing from within the Pavilion. Some songs were fast whilst others were slow and the intensity of the dancing reflected the rhythm and beat of the music. It was a surreal sight under the shadow of the setting sun and a bright sky filled with millions of stars.
The spectators were all doing a dance of their own – the mosquito swatting dance. It must have been a pow wow for the mossies as they were super aggressive and did nothing but attack and feast from the moment we arrived to the moment we left at around 10:30pm. As I was wearing shorts my legs were ravaged by them and did nothing but itch and do my best to try and stay awake during the journey back to the campsite. We all commented what a fantastic day it had been – eating, biking (in sun and rain),
swimming, canoeing, and then ending the day wit
h a Pow Wow..!
I’ve been to a few pow-wows in Moraviantown as well as in my high school where we had an annual pow wow. It had been a long time since I’d been and it was a fantastic experience, particularly for Brendan, Andrew and Jocelyn who had never been to one. When we arrived the sun had just begun to set which cast a gorgeous glow over the grounds. We were the only tourists and everyone seemed to be dressed up in their traditional costumes with the drums slowly beating from within the pavilion. We explored the grounds a bit and found a nice spot on
one of the bleachers and watched the dancing. The first dance was the Grand Entry where the chiefs came in followed by the men and then the women. The men wore beautiful feather headdresses and long colorful outfits adorned with eagle feathers and beads and intricately beaded boots and some carried hammer-like objects also covered with feathers. The women wore ‘jingle dresses’ which are relatively simple dresses which are covered in silver ‘bells’ which jingle as they walk. It was a lovely sight and some, especially the men, really got into their dancing. There were 7ish drums and ‘Nations’ which took turns playing from within the Pavilion. Some songs were fast whilst others were slow and the intensity of the dancing reflected the rhythm and beat of the music. It was a surreal sight under the shadow of the setting sun and a bright sky filled with millions of stars.The spectators were all doing a dance of their own – the mosquito swatting dance. It must have been a pow wow for the mossies as they were super aggressive and did nothing but attack and feast from the moment we arrived to the moment we left at around 10:30pm. As I was wearing shorts my legs were ravaged by them and did nothing but itch and do my best to try and stay awake during the journey back to the campsite. We all commented what a fantastic day it had been – eating, biking (in sun and rain),
swimming, canoeing, and then ending the day wit
h a Pow Wow..! 
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