Wild Turkeys

– way backdated, this –

The first thing to say is — there are many people to thank, and I’m very consciously not on thanking duty. So thank you all, very very much, and there should be text detailing how immensely you’ve helped us out appearing sometime very soon. If not, huge apologies, and you oughta yell.

We camped at a numbered and paid for campsite last night, surrounded by gigantic camping RV type vehicles … two weeks in, and the first time that we’ve paid for accommodations. Thirty bucks C, which may be thirty bucks or may be twenty-four — nobody really has any idea, and we have little internet connectivity, so at the time of this writing it’s unknown. At posting things’ll be different, but the text will stay.

I wanted beer after stopping last night as much as I ever have; we decided to walk first thing after getting set up to the convenience store down the road. The store was closed, and everybody else wanted showers and not to ride much more, so I emptied a pannier and left the rest of my weight at the campsite and headed out looking for beer. Which you apparently cannot purchase, after six pm, but I did put on another 25-30km or so (the units are not pretentious, as we’re in Canada) and talked to a bunch of canadians — mostly slightly overweight 16 year old boys w/ bad acne who astonishingly didn’t quite seem to understand how one acquired take out beer. Nice lads, of course — it just seemed like the same fellow was at every restaurant/convenience store I stopped at. Of course, the only places that would actually be able to help were LCBO spots, and they all close up at noon, or somesuch. Perhaps the teabagging nutters are right — if ’socialism’ means we can no longer purchase a six pack at the grocery (nevermind executions for our elders), maybe we should rethink this whole health care ‘reform’ thing.

While searching for beer, I almost ran over a flock of wild turkeys. Well, only one turkey came close to my wheel, but they hung out at the side of the road, staring at me as I approached … and then dove in front just as I started to pass. Fistful of brake and some great big thanks that I was riding without weight. It felt good to ride without all the crap on the back — it took ten minutes to reacquaint myself w/ riding out of the saddle, but after that, it felt like riding a bicycle again. I enjoy riding with all the gear, but it feels very different from what I think of as riding a bike. A little strange, but there it is.

And talking of bicycle riding (because what else is there to talk of?) — the girls are all getting much stronger. Which is pleasing for selfish reasons, of course, but also really satisfying to see. Warms the tummy, somehow.

So no beer, last night, first time of the trip. I had most of a pint of extremely vile cognac in my close bag (undeclared at the border, along w/ my pocket knife … gotta rebel somehow) and I took a gag-making sip of it before sleep, which would have been the only booze for the day, but then, a few hours after falling into the deepest, most content possible sleep, I hear (from riding partners a tent over) that a raccoon has been trying to get into my food bag. Which of course you would do, as a raccoon, and there’s no excuse for not better securing that stuff … just before I’d fallen asleep, I’d given thanks for it not being bear country, allowing us to be completely worry free, food-security-wise. Blinking dim. But back to the cognac — after repacking the food, and securing it under the rain fly, the yammering of the french folks one site over wouldn’t let me back asleep. The campgrounds really were rather funny — you really would think that canadians would be smarter than stay in places like that, but it seems they’re just as dim as us. Right over the border, sure, but the vast majority of the license plates read Ontario. So after a half hour of listening to that distinctly nasal canadian french, I went back at the cognac. Sweet self-medication. And it helped, I believe, w/ sleeping into the morning the next day — we woke up to rain — for the first time on the trip — and slept in an hour extra before taking off, letting it patter away. Truly not awful.

yr faithful something-or-other,
a.


 
 
 

3 Responses to “Wild Turkeys”

  1. Marc
    15. September 2009 at 22:27

    My favorite post and writing so far on the trip. Can totally imagine the feeling of wanting a beer and realizing that all stores are closed. Very similar to the first time hearing or dealing with the infamous Conneticut blue laws!
    Have fun up north, and take it a lil’ easy on those French Canadiens, i’m part them too!

    cheers,

    Marc

  2. Rachael
    21. September 2009 at 18:45

    “Girls”? I would have thought “Amazons”? -r

  3. bikeandbrew
    22. September 2009 at 10:56

    thanks rachael:) – sara

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