Canadian Beauty

I had a fun little experience at the motel this morning in Marathon. It was like camping, only without the tent. There as no coffee available in the room or at the desk, so I broke out the camp stove and made my own on the back porch. Part of me wondered if they were going to yell at me for it, but I needed coffee, and they would understand that…maybe. It was pretty nice really, and I was glad I had the option.

After the usual wakeup routine I went for breakfast, and afterward met Dwayne. Dwayne was probably 5, and enchanted by my bike. He kept asking me how I was gong to ride it. This was a question I had never really considered an answer to, and every time I started to answer he would look away uninterested, so I finally settled on, "I just get on and ride it the same way you do with your bike."

He seemed satisfied with that answer, or at least distracted, and started pointing to things and asking, "What's that?"

I continued to answer, and then when he asked about the feather I told him it was to help protect me while on the road, and he looked at me with wide eyes and said, "I need one of those!"

I told him that it only really works if you find it on the ground near your bike, and that way you know it's meant for you. His face fell a little, and then he said, "I better start looking," and looked around on the ground.

Just then his mother called for him and he turned away and started walking toward his mom, but he kept talking about something, and looking at the ground. I told him goodbye, but he didn't hear me and just kept walking. Dwayne reminded me that there is wonder in the simple things, and reminded me of the best highway warning sign I've seen on the trip. Somewhere in Kentucky, I think, I saw a yellow diamond warning sign that said, "Watch Children". I am sure that they want us to make sure we don't hit them, but I take it to mean that they can teach us a lot if we just watch them, Thanks, Dwayne!

Shortly after Dwayne left I was getting ready to leave and a cop pulled up behind my bike. For a moment I got a little nervous, but it turns out he was admiring the bike and that was really all. We chatted a little about riding, and he told me about some spots to stop on my way to Thunder Bay. I have to say that it is pretty great to talk to cops and just have a conversation!

I left Marathon headed west and started ticking off the places the officer had told me to stop. First on the list was Aguasabon Gorge.

The falls are actually a spillway from a hydroelectric dam. Too bad none of our spillways are that neat in the States:

The next stop I made was at a little wayside, (although not a direct recommendation by the officer). I stopped because coming down the hill I had seen a tremendous view, and I thought I might be able to get a shot. I had to stand up on the picnic table to get it, but I got it:

I was told that I should stop at Canada's longest suspension bridge, but I was short on time, so I had to pass it up. I did, however, make it to the Terry Fox memorial just outside Thunder Bay, and I am glad I did. I had no idea that there was a one legged cancer survivor who tried to run across the country to raise money for cancer research! That's awesome! And the view was great to boot:

Once in Thunder Bay I went straight to the meeting because I was running a little late. The meeting was the Welcome Group, and that's exactly how I felt. The discussion centered around how we have come to believe in something. I love meetings like that because, of all things, we are all pretty honest and open about that. Thanks, Welcome Group!

After the meeting I rode out to Chippewa Park. After crossing one of the scariest bridge I have ever been on I rode for a long way through the dark, but when it came time to turn into the park a fox ran across the road in front of me, and then led me down the road to the entrance to the park. Thanks, Fox Guy!

Pooh Goes Home

This morning I was feeling much better about being in Canada, thanks to the wonderful meeting, and the tremendous hospitality at the Ambassador Motel. Before leaving the motel I asked Robin, one of the owners, about a good breakfast spot, and was told to try a place called the Mountain Ashe Inn about fifteen minutes north of town. So I headed that way, and just when I was starting to wonder if I'd missed it, there it was on the left. Only problem was, it was closed - permanently.

"I'm in trouble," I thought. I had left town already, and I was starving. I looked around a bit and saw a little fish and chips stand across the highway and thought, "Well, I didn't know I wanted fish for breakfast, but I guess I do."

When I got in line there were four people in front of me and I figured it was going to stay busy, but by the time I ordered everyone else had left, and no one else was coming, so I started talking to the owner, Percy, and I quickly understood why I was at a fish stand for breakfast. This guy was awesome. A native man (half native I found out later) with a tremendous amount of life experience, and was certainly on a spiritual path that I cannot even begin to understand.

Percy served my food and I stood in the window of the stand and we had a wonderful conversation while I ate. He told me about growing up in the area (there is even a bay named after his family) and working jobs like mining, sandblasting, and now cooking. He said, "I never made burgers before this, eh, but I like it. My wife told me, 'you can't do that work.' And I said, 'If I die making burgers I'll die happy, but if I die on the couch at home I will die the most miserable death any man could ask for."

This is a man who knows what he wants and how to get it and then just does it. He says, "If I could have anything in the world at my age (65) it would be an education, eh. I'm good at most things I do, but an education would make me unstoppable." And I believe him.

Growing up Percy was around the elder natives in the area, and they called him Shaganash his whole life. "My mother was white, and that made me less dark than the rest of my family, so they called me Shaganash. It means 'white man'. It stuck, and even all through school people called me Shaganash, or Shag."

He also told me that the remembers one of the elders telling him, "One man is given the gift of the mind, and another is given the gift of the mouth. The creator does this so that we have to work together. No one man can do it alone." That sounds familiar!

Having a fish breakfast with Percy was a tremendous gift this morning, and a good reminder that I cannot possibly begin to plan the great parts of this trip. Thanks, Shaganash!

Shortly after leaving Percy's fish stand I was riding with Lake Superior on my left. It was beautiful, and the weather was so nice that I even had a few moments where I felt cold! I was amazed at the variety in the landscape here along Canada 17. There are more types of rocks than I think I have ever seen in one place, and there is an incredible amount of water around. There are rivers, creeks, and lakes around every corner. My favorites were Mom Lake on the right, Dad Lake on the left, and the Baby Lake on the right. But this was the most beautiful spot I stopped:

I stopped later for a little break overlooking Lake Superior:

And while I was there I noticed a new kind of graffiti. It seems that the thing to do when traveling across Canada is to take a Sharpie and write who you are and what trip you are taking for others to come see:

I wish I'd brought a Sharpie…

Later in the day I came to White River, Ontario, and the most exciting moment of the trip for my passengers. I've mentioned before that I have teddy bears on my bike, but I didn't tell you that they are Paddington and Pooh, and they rode in my mom's car for many years. For the most part they have sat quietly for 9000+ miles, but today they jumped off and ran up to have a look at this:

It turns out that a black bear was born in White River and taken back to the London Zoo and named Winnie. It was this bear that helped inspire A.A. Milne to write the Winnie-the-Pooh stories. Now Pooh has a better knowledge of his lineage, even if I did have to read the plaque to him. I knew there was a reason I brought them along…

The day ended in Marathon, Ontario, a town that exists today because of the gold mines nearby. The meeting was the Nor Wester group, and it was another book study. It was a pleasure to be a part of a small tight-knit group and discuss the process of making amends, and the freedom that comes from it. Thanks, Nor Wester Group!

Oh, Canada!

Before I left Mackinaw City this morning I had breakfast downtown, and as I was leaving the little breakfast joint I heard some chirping coming from the awning. It sounded a little like a baby bird, so I went looking for a nest. I didn't find a nest, but I did find several of these guys:

They are little brown bats that apparently think that the awning over the breakfast place is some kind of cave. They weren't bothering anyone, so I guess it's fine, but I didn't expect to find that.

Based on the recommendation of some Canadians I met in Tennessee I decided to pass through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to get to Sault Sainte Marie, Ontario. This all seemed like an easy enough task, but that all started to change when I discovered that it was laundry day again.

I located a laundromat across the strait in St. Ignace, MI, and when I put the address into the GPS it took forever to calculate, and then told me that my arrival time would be 9 am. It was noon! And it was only 6 miles away! Upon further investigation I found that I still had it set to avoid Interstates, toll roads, and traffic, and therefore it was planning to take me on the 1098 mile trek around Lake Michigan. Amazing that were it not for a four mile bridge it would take days to travel six miles north.

So I crossed the bridge for the low price of $3.50. I find it interesting that they charge by the axle, and this meant that I paid the same toll that a car does. Nevermind the fact that 2 wheels does less damage than 4, but whatever, I got across and found the laundromat.

It seems that this laundromat has the market pretty well cornered around these parts, because they can charge $6.00 per load to wash and dry! I was beginning to dislike this U.P. to Canada plan…

While my laundry was doing it's thing my mind started to race about going to Canada. Most of the panic was coming from the fact that my phone has become a lifeline in a lot of ways. Not only is it my connection to home, but it is also how I find meetings, estimate travel times for the day, and any other number of things that get me to the next meeting. But now I was planning to travel to a place where roaming charges could quickly break the bank. On top of that I was having trouble figuring out where meetings were, even with the phone, and realizing that there were very long distances between meetings in Canada. This was going to be tough, and I was in a bit of a panic and about ready to say, "Never mind Canada!"

Then I called Mandy and she reminded me that action is the key, that I should go and try it, and if it's terrible I can always come back into the states. She was right, and I was feeling better.

So I packed up the most expensive load of laundry ever and headed north. I quickly realized that if West Texas had more trees it would be very hard to tell if you were there or on the U.P. They are essentially the same; people talk different, the landscape is flat, it's hot, and the only thing around to speak of is wind. Oh, and it's boring.

I crossed the bridge into Canada. (Paying another $3.00 toll and realizing that I had just paid $3.50 to get into a place and $3.00 to get out of it, and experienced nothing in between.) When I told the customs guy that I was going to Canada to go to meetings he looked at me sideways and said, "You're doing what?"

"I'm traveling the continent trying to do 60 meetings in 60 days."

He paused, and I got nervous. These types of situations always make me nervous, even though I haven't done anything to get caught for in a long time.

After the long pause he handed my passport back and asked what I did for a living. (I then understood why I had to wait in line.) I told him and we chatted for a second and he said, "Have a good trip."

I breathed a sigh of relief and darted away from his booth before he could change his mind. I'd made it into Canada!

Once in Canada I started to feel a little better. (Other than not knowing how fast I was going.) I located the meeting and then got some food. Then after the food I went back to the meeting and was immediately relieved by just being in the room. This thing is magic!

The chairperson, John, told a little of his story and I could swear he was telling mine. Just like what happened in Kentucky, I immediately knew I was in the right place. The conversation that followed was about taking inventory, spiritual awakenings, and love. At one point it was mentioned that as selfish people coming into the program it is impossible for us to love, but after the spiritual awakening of the steps we can begin to see it, feel it, and even show it. An extra big thanks to the Northern Group in Sault Ste Marie for reminding me what it's all about!

After the meeting some folks were kind enough to lend me some advice about camping outside of town, but after being warned about moose on the road I decided that riding at dusk was going to be a bad idea, and got a room at the Ambassador Motel. This place even gives you an actual key to your room!

The meeting reminded me that it would all be just fine, and Mandy was totally right, action was the key! Thanks, Darlin'!

Oh, yeah, and I got to see this:

Relief

I woke up this morning when my body was ready to and it felt wonderful! Yesterday I was feeling a little bit like I couldn't go any farther and the trip would need to end, but a good night's sleep has left me feeling fully rested for the first time in weeks. I am still feeling like it is close to time to be home, but I'm not exhausted and feel like I can continue the journey. Whew, that was a close one.

For breakfast I went to Bob Evan's, which appears to be the regional equivalent of Denny's, and it was delicious. After I ate I was outside and started talking to a local couple about the trip, the weather, etc. and I really wish I had some kind of a handheld ticket clicker because I really wanted to be able to count the number of times the man said "Oh yeah. Heck yeah." And it was never just, "Oh yeah," or "Heck yeah," always both. Toward the end of the conversation I was starting to have a hard time holding back the laughter, and not because I didn't think he should say it any more, or in a condescending way, but it was just damn funny.

From Saginaw I went north and took a right on US 23 to travel around the 'index finger' of Michigan. I was really glad to be off the Interstate, but unfortunately it was still flat and straight. The good news was that there were things to look at again. I was leaving the farmland behind and in the forest again, and after a short time I had Lake Huron to my right.

All I can say about that is, "That's a huge frickin' lake!" It feels a little like looking out at the ocean, only I know that if times were really tough I could drink from the lake to stay alive.

Before I left Saginaw I had looked at the weather and it was looking like I was going to be in the rain all day long, but I must have done something right somewhere, because I managed to stay behind the storm all day long. That also meant that I stayed cool all day. Thank Dude!

US 23 reminded me a lot of US 101 down the Oregon Coast. It is obviously a destination spot, with lots of little rental cabins and hotels by the water. I found it fascinating that at least 90% of the shoreline is privately owned, and I know this because everyone has a sign my the road to mark their spot. Good thing, too, because without the signs no one would be able to find their cabin, it would just be miles and miles of mailboxes that look pretty much the same. The signs were interesting too. They ranged from names painted on plywood to intricate hand-carved pieces announcing things like, 'Howard's Hideaway".

I stopped for a little break at a small gas station and met Ted. Ted introduced himself by pulling up next to me in his garbage truck and asking, "Wanna trade?"

"Not today," I told him, "Im not sure I'd have as much fun getting back to Seattle."

"Don't be so sure, she handles like a dream." I eyed the truck a bit. "And she only uses a gallon every hundred miles…of oil."

I wasn't sold on the trade, but we talked for a bit. I was relieved to have had a conversation with someone on the side of the road. It told me that I was back on the highways where everyone isn't in such a damn hurry. Thanks, Ted.



At my last stop on US 23 I got to actually pump water out of the ground and into my water bottle using this:

The meeting for the day was in Mackinaw City (technically a village by definition). It was a fantastic little meeting about how and how much to help others. I was reminded that if someone wants to go then we can't say anything right, but if someone wants to stay we can't say anything wrong. Thanks, Mackinaw City Group!

The day was an absolute relief all around, and I am glad to be back on the blue highways!

The Straight and Boring

I woke up this morning to an alarm that I didn't know I'd set, it was quiet at first, and then got louder, like it was right next to my tent. It was this guy:

And he was right next to my tent. He must have started making noise as he was hopping up to greet me. He didn't say much after I noticed him, but he did hang around to make sure I got out of bed.

Shortly after getting up I realized that I had a headache and a stiff neck. I felt a little like I was hungover, but without the guilt and remorse that makes it really terrible. Maybe I didn't drink enough water yesterday…

In any case, the way I felt made the already boring roads even worse. I wound up on Interstates most of the day to get myself through Southern Michigan and up to Saginaw. I had intended to go farther, but the headache made me stop more often and take it a little slower.

The result of riding Interstates, as usual, is that I saw nothing, talked to almost no one, and experienced very little during the day. As disappointing as I found the day I was pleased to have still made progress north, and therefore closer to home.

I ended the day with the Peace Group in Saginaw, MI. It was a book study and we read a story that I don't think I've read before. I was struck by a passage about the author's surprise at other member's caring. It reminded me that the magic of this whole thing is in that care for one another. And that the love that strangers can have in this fellowship is incredible and not found in many places. Thanks, Peace Group!

After the meeting I found a Motel 6 and got a room to see if I can get rid of this stiff neck by sleeping in a bed. Here's to hopin'.

Of All Things...

Today was another day filled with wonderful and amazing little surprises - Things I had no idea would happen on this trip.

After I had some coffee and packed up the bike I called Phil to see if he wanted to get breakfast. He was too tired from working all night long, but he recommended that I go to the Fort Shawnee Diner and Dairy Bar about fifteen miles outside of town. I wasn't starving, so I went out there, and when I pulled up it looked like the place was closed, but the door was open so in I went.

I ordered the french toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs, and I am fairly certain that the eggs were the best I've had the entire trip. They were perfect, still a little runny, and I could tell they were farm fresh. The bacon was nice and thin and crisp, without being burnt, and the french toast was just cinnamony enough to be delicious. It was the perfect breakfast.

After that I rode north from the river on some wonderful roads through the hills. The scenery was wonderful, but I am sorry to say that nothing stood out as needing to be photographed, so there are no photos today.

I stopped in Greenfield for a break and while I was enjoying the half sun through the clouds a man in a pickup said, "You've come a long way, haven't you?"

I told him I'd come the really long way and that I still had a ways to go. He smiled and told me to be safe. I said that I would and started to turn away, but he said, "Here, this'll keep you safe." I turned around. "It's a buckeye," he said.

"Well, thank you, I appreciate that." I said as I pocketed the gift.

He nodded, started his truck and drove off.

That's when I decided to do the daily hunt for an iPhone 4. I have kept this mostly to myself until now because it has only frustrated me, but today I found one! In Washington Court House, OH of all places. So I rode up there and I made it there before someone else wanted it. Now I have a new phone that I don't feel like throwing across the room every time I use it (iPhone 3G + iOS4 = CRAP!), and the extra bonus is that I got to hang out with the folks in the store and chat about the trip. I just love it when people are interested. Thanks, AT&T people in Washington Court House!

From there I continued north to get to Defiance, OH. When I saw Defiance on the map I thought, "I have go there. That name is way too good to skip." The ride was pretty nice, but one unfortunate thing happened - the roads got straight and flat again. They even had 35 mph curve warning signs on 65 mph curves. These people have obviously never seen curvy roads. I think they should just have a yellow warning sign with a straight arrow on it to warn you that you will not turn…for 100 miles.

So, I managed to make it to Defiance for the 8:30 meeting. Trouble was that the 8:30 meeting had been moved to 7:00, so I'd missed it. Luckily, Randall had missed it too. Randall was visiting from Texas and was in front of the club when I pulled up. Without a meeting we decided to have our own out in front, and that was exactly what I needed, just some good one-on-one talking time. Thanks, Randall!!

Randall was also nice enough to ask his family about camping nearby and passed along that there was a spot called Shepherd's Pasture out on highway 15. They also had a phone number, so I called, but there was no answer so I figured I would just drive out 15 and see what I could find.

On my way out of town I passed the Central Fire Station and the guys were all out front talking to the Sheriff, and I thought, "If anyone knows their way around this place it's these guys." So I stopped and asked about a place to camp.

They all discussed my options, and sounded like they were coming up with nothing, so I said, "I've heard about this Shepherd's Pasture place, but don't really know where it is." And that's when the Sheriff, Chris, got on his radio and called his office to sake if they had a contact number for the owner. (This was getting good.) The office said they did have a number and he asked them to call and see about a spot for me. And they did!

When Chris got off his radio he said, "Just follow me and I'll get you there." Really!? Of all the things I thought might happen on this trip, a police escort to a campground certainly wasn't one of them. The last time I had a police escort it was back to my dad's house…and not friendly at all. Who knew?

When we got to the campground Chris had to run off for another call, but gave me his card in case I needed anything. I love small towns! Thank you Chris, and all the firefighters, not only for the help, but also for the job that you do every day, I appreciate it very much!

Kentucky Rednecks

This morning after breakfast I was sitting out in front of the hotel having a smoke and met the most wonderful person, Marty. She walked out of the front door of the hotel, looked at me sitting on the bench, and pointing to the empty seat next to me, said, "I'm gonna sit here, and I promise to behave myself." I chuckled a little and she sat down.

After a moment I turned to her and asked, "So, what brings you to Harlan, Kentucky?"

She smiled and said, "I'm Harlan High class of fifty-eight and we have a little reunion every two years. Actually I didn't graduate from Harlan, in fact I didn't get my diploma until nineteen ninety-eight, but I like coming back here to see the people."

We talked for a bit about Harlan and I told her some about the trip, and then she got a phone call. I'm not sure who was on the other end, but I do know that just after saying hello she said, "Now sweetie, you're gonna have to make this quick. I'm out in front of the hotel and I've got a man cornered."

I wish I hadn't been drinking coffee right when she said that, because I spit a little out my nose and laughed.

When she got off the phone it was like nothing had ever happened. Marty just went right back to talking. She told me a lot about what it was like growing up in here. Harlan, like a lot of eastern Kentucky, is a coal town, and Marty thinks there is something about having one's father be in constant peril that makes the entire town pull together and become a big family. She remembers being in high school and being conscious that some people had more money than others, but no one was better than anyone else, and everyone looked out for each other.

Marty was a wealth of information, including knowing the origin of the term
'redneck.' "It started right here in Harlan County," she said. "In the thirties there was a lot of turmoil in the mining community, and all the union miners and union supporters wore red bandanas around their necks. That way people could tell who was who."

I think it's incredible that something like that can get so turned around through the years.

After we talked for a little while I told her the details of my trip, and we had a wonderful talk about the importance of friends and family. We had talked some about it earlier, but I told her about my travels through the biggest family on earth, and she smiled from ear to ear.

Talking with Marty reminded me why I wanted to take this trip in the first place - to talk to folks about life. Thanks for sharing the bench with me, Marty!

After my talk with Marty I was ready to get back on the road, she had fired me up. I started north again and found highway 160 through eastern Kentucky. I have tried to keep expectations to a minimum for this trip because that allows for more great surprises, and Kentucky was easily one of the biggest surprises. This place in beautiful! The mountains are lush, the farmland is fertile and green, and the roads are great:

I wound my way north and ended the day in Portsmouth, OH. When I got into town I went straight to the meeting place and was lucky to pull up next to Phil. He reassured me that I was in the right place for a meeting, but it wasn't for another hour. I asked him about a place to eat and he said, "There's a great place for footers just up there."

I said, "OK," and I didn't tell him that I was unsure what a footer was, but I wanted to find out. So I went to the little stand and then it dawned on me that a footer was a foot-long hot dog. Duh. So, I had a footer and net back over to the church.

The meeting was the 12 and 12 Group and it was a speaker meeting. I have to say that I was a little relieved to just be able to sit and listen for a change, and I was really grateful for the story that I heard.

After the meeting I asked Phil about places to camp and he was kind enough to arrange a campsite with his nephew, Dave, and also take me to his house to have a shower. Thanks, Phil!

After setting up camp I had a chance to sit with Dave by the campfire and chat about life and recovery. What a treat to have good company by the fire on the bank of the Ohio river. Thanks, Barb and Dave!