Stadium Canadium

As if to further emphasise my point yesterday about the end of summer being felt in the air, today we woke up to an altogether different America. A strong cold wind blew through the house we were staying, and made me think only of sitting down in the reclining chair by the wood burning stove, cup of coffee in one hand, and tv remote in the other. I can already see my life back in London amounting to that if I don’t break free of the inevitable post-tour rut, and get a job.

For now though, I made do with a hearty breakfast cooked up by our host as he hurried around, the occasional call of “heck yeah” in answer to a question. Bacon, sweet buns, and fresh eggs from his hens, all washed down of course with plenty of hot coffee. That’s how every morning should start.

The 40 odd miles to the Canadian border rushed by, with the wind pushing us nicely along quiet country roads, stopping only for another warm cup of midday coffee. All the while, the sky was thick with clouds, threatening constantly to open up on us, but only sending down the briefest of light rain showers.

We reached Marine City before long, the destination of choice for cyclists wanting to cross from Michigan into Ontario. With a low-key border crossing, and a $1 ferry across the river border for cyclists, this is the perfect way to get across. It was also a bit of a relief to make it in, since I had only briefly looked into entry requirements to Canada, as well as re-entering the States on the Visa Waiver program.

Even though all we had done was cross a river, there was in an instant change in the feel of the surroundings. Aside from everything being back in kilometres (which in confusion I now find myself convertring back into miles), there were different signs, different houses, different electricity pylons. Even the mobile phone coverage is different- my current signal is with Roger’s Wireless, which might be Canada’s largest cellphone provider, but to me it sounds like an old man in a shed with a CB radio.

When we decided to call it a day (or at least an early afternoon), we pulled into a park in the small town of Wilkesport which looked like it may be a potential campsite. A group of people were playing street hockey by the firestation, so we decided to ask whether they thought it’d be ok to camp there. They barely acknowledged us, saying that no one would care. Good enough for us.

We pitched our tents by the baseball diamond, the guy ropes all pegged down to keep the tent as stable as possible in these gales. In every direction there seem to be dark menacing clouds, but still only brief smatterings of rain seem to be falling.

Its the first evening in as long as I can remember that I’ve had to wear trousers, fleece, jacket and buff. Even then the cold wind is numbing my hands and making me shiver.

At least I know how nice and cosy it’ll be in my tent.

Is 7.30 too early for bed time?
Naaa.

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3 Responses

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  1. its cold here cliff, its cold.
    better get jo to warm that rut up for you.

  2. Haha – stop liking, start cycling!!

    THE END IS NIGH.

    Love to beardy.

  3. Of course, I’m sitting here in singlet and boardies, but you’ve given me goose-bumps talking about that freezing weather. Enjoy :)

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