THUNDER BAY -- I’m all for truth in advertising but enough is enough! And for once, I wish the ads were even a little bit misleading.It was cool and it rained, as forecast, pretty much all the way from Winnipeg through to the Manitoba line where I stopped for a hot coffee and a hearty breakfast and mosquito bites at Falcon Lake Golf Course. No stopping those golfers!!
It rained all the way to the lone gas station in town where I got more mosquito bites, but no fuel as the premium truck hadn’t arrived. It rained all the way into Ontario, all the way to Kenora on the Trans-Canada.
It rained all the way south on ON Hwy. 71 through some challenging twisty bits bordered by stunning Canadian Shield lakes, granite rock cuts and boreal forests to Fort Frances. (Not even the rain could take the smell of the local pulp mill out of the heavy air!)I've only just learned that the town and neighbouring Couchiching First Nation have declared a state of emergency because of all the rain. It's serious for them and really just a minor inconvenience for me.
In all, it was 460-odd kilometers and about 7.5 hours of non-stop rain! What did I expect entering the Rainy River District? Sunshine? (See below!) At times like these, I’m reminded of my dear old mom’s saying “Good thing you’re not made of icing sugar!”
But I made it to Fort Frances on schedule, just in time to have a quick soak in a hot tub before catching the Italy-England World Cup match at a local Boston Pizza! England -- with five Liverpool members in its starting 11 -- and Italy -- with a backline almost totally called up from Juventus -- made a beautiful game of it, but The Azzuri triumphed 2-1 over the Lions in the end.
I have to give some consideration to the fact I have a lot of friends in either camp, some of whom I may have to call on for a bed or a couch while I’m out on the road!
I keep meeting some great folks on the road. like the two guys staying at my hotel in Fort Frances who were taking part in the inaugural Run to the Border rally. One was riding a big Harley Something Glide, the other a Kawasaki Voyager. Neither seemed to mind the rain as we sheltered under the awning outside the hotel. A ride's a ride, we agreed! Lots of fun pix here!
And what’s at the other end of the causeway, other than George Armstrong Drive, named for the former captain of the Toronto Maple Leafs and two-time Memorial Cup-winning coach with the Toronto Marlies? Yup, Windy Point and the Town of Rainy River! Score another one for the topographers or whatever you call place-namers.
My old nemesis blew back into town with a vengeance, with gusts over 80 kmh! That lasted all the way to Atikokan, the canoeing capital of Canada. Sorry, Shawinigan!
It lasted all the way along Hwy. 11 for the entire 350-kilometer run to Thunder Bay; the last 30 from Kakabeka Falls -- wait for it! -- a spectacular but scary lightning storm. Lightning! Thunder! Thunder Bay! I get it! Come on! Give a guy a break!
How come when I went through the hamlet of Sunshine there wasn’t even a hint of a let-up in the downpour that has locals worried about a fresh round of flooding. Where's truth in advertising when I need it?!
But I’m tubbed and fed and ready for bed! How’s that for a biker credo?
And looking back on the first half of my four-day ride through the Lakehead north of Superior, I've seen some awesome scenery and some not-too-bad roads that could arguably be called motorcycle friendly.
My friend John, a CBC Radio reporter in Edmonton who’s a native of this city, urged me to take my run south into Minnesota at International Falls for an easier run eastward. “Otherwise,” he said, “it’s just rocks and trees and lakes and rocks and trees and lakes!”
It’s an all-Canadian ride, I reminded him. And his analysis fails to factor in one key element. This homesick Ontarian is back in the province I love! I’m home!
I’ve never been to this end of the province before, but no matter. I can’t buy beer on a Sunday. I’m paying sales tax! The speed limit tops out at an anemic 100 kmh. Who cares?
The lakes are full of bass and walleye, I’ve got an Ontario fishing licence in my pocket and my collapsible pole has a jig loaded and ready!
John’s take also fails to consider the raw beauty of this largely unspoiled wilderness especially where the undulating two-lane blacktop skirts the Lake of the Woods and Quetico Provincial Park.
There’s the moose pastures with their favourite food -- water lillies -- just about to blossom. I haven’t encountered a swamp donkey -- yet -- and I don’t really expect to since they’re usually holed up in the muck during the day. But at some point, the black flies and mosquitoes breeding in the same water will drive them out of the woods and onto the roadway.
And there’s beaver meadows -- even where their damn dams have washed out, taking the roadway with it, leaving Hwy. 11 a patchwork quilt of repairs in various stage of disrepair. With all this damn rain, the water is already topping the damn dams and despite their legendary industry, there’s damn all the beavers can do about it.
I stopped at the Atlantic Watershed sign just west of Quetico. From this point on the continent, all water flows south and east to the Atlantic Ocean. On the flip side facing northwest, all water flows to the Arctic Ocean.
Before I leave here, I want to visit the Terry Fox Memorial, marking the end of this brave young man's Marathon of Hope. I interviewed Terry as he made his way through throngs of cheering supporters toward Brampton and Toronto in the summer of 1980.
I remember I struggled to keep up with him. I'll never forget his dogged determination to complete his journey nor how I cried when his cancer finally forced him to end his run.
I may also try to go back to Kakabeka Falls tomorrow, but it’s going to be a lot longer drive than 26 miles before I get to Marathon, my next overnight stop, so maybe it will have to wait until I’m back up here.
And I will be back up here, John. I think I might have missed a few rocks or trees or lakes in the downpour!
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