Les Américains

The entirety of this trip has been marked not with miles or views but with people. Every time we were in a pinch someone unexpected came through with a solution or in the most recent case, Haddock. We arrived back at our campsite to find a pack of Ravens picking apart our stash of food. Without hesitating, one of the grounds workers, Justin, came down to us with soup, fresh haddock, garlic, and onions. He even brought us tin foil to bake it in and advice on the proper technique. Hospitality is plentiful at Meat Cove Campground.

Attempting to out run a storm we unfortunately had to leave Northern Cape Breton entering what we soon found out to be the void.

Every pebble sent a vibration through my spine. 35 year old suspension systems aren't that great.The evening light was fading just beyond a nearby peak as I tried to shake off the early onset fatigue. The occasional pothole would catch me by surprise as every vertebrae in my spine compressed under the shock. I watched the golden light dance between the spaces of dust that floated up behind Chris as I swayed and slid on the dirt road. There were intermittent patches of old pave scattered throughout the troughs that provided some relief. Then, I saw Chris flip.

Evidently, drifting on dirt roads can lead to high sides. He flew like The Man of Steel off the saddle and into the dirt. After a moment of shock he lifted up his new custom bike and rode on. 

And with that we left paradise 2 days ago and made way towards Montréal. We still haven't made it to Montréal. 

The first day back on the road bullet rain besieged the open spaces in our rain gear and helmets. Upon arriving and Hyclass campgrounds we opted to seek shelter in a cabin for the night. Cordage was strung over beds and the miniature space heater pulled overtime drying out sets of gloves and boots.

The morning after heavy condensation formed over every inch of our motorcycles. Dew dropped off of mirrors and grips while we reattached our gear for the day. The scent of petrichor pervaded the tiny lakeside campground quickly being replaced with exhaust while we warmed up our bikes and left. The brisk air chilled and bit and stung down to my core between every patch of light. Then, Logan ran out of gas. 

On the side of the highway he filled up with the auxiliary tank and we continued until Levi's muffler tumbled off into a ditch. A quick chrome retrieval and we were off again. Then Logan's bike wouldn't start. Legs burned and lungs strained for air as we (Chris) pushed his bike after every fill up. 

Despite the setbacks we continued on for what became our longest single day of travel the entire trip. 601.875 miles. We did eat poutine at a gas station, that was the highlight.

We rode into Camping et Chalets de la Demi-Lieue late in the evening surely waking up the entire establishment. However, in the morning we were greeted with smiles and French-accented "hellos". Greetings were cut short by the recurring rain and also probably because we smelled bad and didn't speak French.

(Present time):

Logan's battery officially died today so we push started him a lot, but what's new. It also started leaking a lot of oil out of the engine. A lot of oil. All over the gas station concrete. Levi's speedometer, and turn signals aren't working and a side panel ejected on the highway. Additionally, his engine head is leaking oil from the seals. Chris is constantly leaking gasoline, and his tire is misaligned. I broke a baffle in my muffler when I tipped over this morning. It was a slo-motion out of body experience, really. I rocked off the center stand in mud after adjusting my chain and there I went. By the way, Chris and I need new chains, urgently. Send to: Motel in Québec.

This is a learning experience.