Neys Provincial Park to Rossport, ON
Traditional territory of the Algonquin, Anishinabek, Haudenosaunee, Ojibway, Odawa and Cree
120 km
Cloud, sun, lil' bit of wind, 24 ºC
We went to sleep quite late talking to Pierre and Lori and then wandered over to eat our breakfast with their fire. Toast with jam, mmmm. Dianne and I had made plans the previous evening, when she was being visited by another friend, to have coffee together in the morning. There were some particular (some would say peculiar) questions I had which we didn’t get to or get into enough. She was so far along into her trip, that it felt like it would’ve been a real missed opportunity to not ask and spend time in her presence. It was one of the most wonderful conversations I have ever had. In my life. Which is an astonishing remark to make but sincerely so. It’ll make for a full-length podcast episode so I won’t get into it too much here.
When we finally left after meeting another cross-Canada cycling veteran from about a decade ago, it was late in the morning.
This is the second time on this trip I’ve noticed one of these paint trucks. This time it was painting white lines, the last time it was yellow. It was on the other side of the highway so I quickly turned around and followed it for a bit. What a marvellous event to witness! Would make for a great 99% Invisible podcast episode. (If there hasn’t been one already.)
We also ran into this crazy couple in Terrace Bay, the O’Neils, from Salt Spring Island who upon becoming empty nesters and their dog dying decided to rent out their home and hit the road east.
We pushed—even with the s-l-o-w-ness and the people we met such as the forester from southern Ontario or the real estate agent from Las Vegas who at one point in his life shared the same barber as Paul Anka—to where we’d wanted to get to by the end of the day. Rossport. I have some fond memories of the place but was unable to stop by a couple who run a neat cafe and B&B. Good excuse to return.
This entire terrain and geography is so incredibly spectacular. I’m going to miss it tremendously but cannot wait to return and it feels more like home, physically, than any other place so far.
