Maritime Canada, Part 2 - Oxford to Halifax, Nova Scotia

   The drive to Halifax was going to be one of the trip's shortest transfers, but it allowed us plenty of time to stop for some groceries and have a good portion of the day ahead when we reached the city. Our first impression of Halifax was that it reminded us of a mini-San Francisco, with streets heading uphill from a bustling wharf area through a cluster of modern high-rises. However, Halifax's buildings aren't quite as tall, and the bridges and center city are reversed in relationship to the ocean. San Francisco is also much hillier overall with a significantly higher cost of living!

   We were staying in a modern basement apartment in a section of the city just west of the Citadel. The streets nearby were lined with colorful row-houses, some with a harbor-side feel and others with more Victorian flair.

   Knowing the weather was supposed to be iffy the next couple of days, we decided to take advantage of the gorgeous conditions when we arrived and take a little bike tour around the city. We first headed up the short, STEEP street on Citadel Hill. There have been four different fortifications, often referred to as Fort George (honoring King George III), atop the hill since 1749 when the city was founded, but the most recent was completed in 1856, and is officially called The Citadel.

   We circled the fortress and then headed down the east side of the hill and out to the end of the peninsula to Point Pleasant Park. The air was considerably cooler out by the water, and we enjoyed the view looking out toward the Atlantic Ocean.

   We followed the shoreline back through the park and returned to city streets. Our route took us back through Canadian National Railway's intermodal yard to meet the end of Halifax's wharf/boardwalk area, which is packed with restaurants and shops. The developers have done a nice job blending the newer structures along the boardwalk area with some of the older buildings along the harbor-front.

   Our route spiraled up to the Angus MacDonald Bridge, which has a dedicated bikelane its full length across the harbor to the town of Dartmouth. Here is a shot I took from the bridge looking west:

   We were a bit wiped out after climbing the hills back up to our apartment and slept well that night. The next day was gloomy and had a light rain falling most of the day. We did a bit of grocery shopping and checked out a gluten-free bakery for some treats for me. We went out for a walk in the evening and saw some of the city's wild Pride Day Parade, then checked out the cool, modern library building, which cantilevered out over the parade route.

   Our evening stroll finished up in the skywalk, which is an enclosed pathway above the streets which interconnects the downtown hotels, businesses and shopping areas with the casino. Yes, we did stop in to try the slots (we are not table players), and no, we did not win or lose much.

   It was gray the next morning, but dry, and the weather forecast mentioned rain later in the day. We put the bikes back in the car and drove across the MacDonald bridge, then east a short distance to the town of Cole Harbour, which is most famous for being the hometown of Pittsburgh Penguins captain and three-time Stanley Cup winner, Sidney Crosby. However, we were less interested in the hockey history than finding the parking area for the Salt Marsh Trail.

   The scenic trail was built on the roadbed of the former Dartmouth Eastern Railway, later part of the Canadian National system, which was built in 1912 primarily to move lumber and limestone from Musquodoboit to Dartmouth harbor and Windsor Junction. The trail’s wonderful crushed gravel surface runs across causeways through tidal marshes and through fragrant pine forests along the coast.

   The fog was thick when we started, and despite our hopes that the forecast would be correct and conditions would improve, the mist was consistently falling during our ride. The trail was still relatively dry, and we were enjoying the ride, although we really missed out on any of the wider scenic vistas because of the poor visibility.

   Along the way we saw ducks and cormorants diving for food in the water, an osprey make a poor landing attempt on a pine treetop, plenty of gulls, plus a few more colorful birds like goldfinches and a red-headed woodpecker. We probably would have seen more furry friends had the weather not turned miserable, but we did catch a couple reddish squirrels and chipmunks, and a field mouse nearly managed to get himself squished under my front wheel!

   The mist turned to a steadier shower, and we decided to turn around, hoping that maybe the rain was more coastal. Sure enough, it seemed that things were improving somewhat as we faced intermittent mist while heading inland back to the van. We stopped to chat with a couple locals who we overheard were looking for something to clear their glasses of moisture. Sue offered a dry bandana that she was carrying in her jersey pocket, and we took the opportunity to ask them a bit about return routes to the city, since it was my original plan to ride the eight miles or so back to our apartment.

   Roads we experienced along the route to Cole Harbour were mostly of the four-lane variety with no real shoulder of which to speak, and although I’m not particularly intimidated by passing cars/trucks, calmer traffic conditions are always welcome, particularly in foreign territory and in rain, which was unfortunately starting up again. Other than continuing down the trail, which meandered somewhat on its way back towards Dartmouth, it seemed the quicker route would mostly involve the same course we had taken inbound.

   The folks did direct me down the Heritage Trail, which paralleled the road for a mile or so, and it was a lot of fun. The crushed gravel surface wound through the forest with banked turns and little rises and drops to get the adrenaline flowing. All too soon though, I was back on the pavement with cars blowing by me – they were giving plenty of room, however, and I was glad that I had my flashing tail light to make myself more visible when the skies eventually opened up into a soaking rain.

   As I began my crossing of the MacDonald Bridge, I became aware of the crosswinds and how the water streaming off my front wheel felt like someone was opening a faucet directly into my right shoe! The rain let up just as I made the now-familiar righthand turn down on the bicycling lane, which I was quite happy about, as I was hoping to be able to clear my rims of moisture and have adequate braking power on the ramp’s steep descent.

   I enjoyed the hills up to our place on Davison Street much better this time around, as I knew they were coming and anticipated the climbs with the correct gearing. I forgot that Sue had mentioned that she was making a quick market stop on the way back, so I was initially a bit surprised not to see the van parked outside our apartment. I was flying during my ride, but I certainly didn’t think I would “win” the eight-mile trip. 

   I had thought about going inside to dry off and clean the bike, but as time wore on I figured it would be a better idea to wait outside for Sue's return. I didn’t want her to turn the corner, not see any evidence of me or the bike and think that I hadn’t made it back safely.

   Later that evening, we attended a “Shakespeare By the Sea” production of Othello, which was performed wonderfully within Point Pleasant Park. The multi-level Cambridge Battery, an old military site, provided an effective set for the play. I will tell anyone that cares how much I love Shakespeare’s work, not that I’m a snooty-type who memorizes and quotes lines, nor do I pretend to completely grasp the language. However, seeing the plays live, with the action and the expression of the actors providing a context for the words, makes the stories so much easier to understand and enjoy!

   The drive back into the city would be one of our last glimpses of urban life for quite a while – off to more secluded surroundings around LaHave and Bush Island. 

Another reminder that internet availability will be sparse during our trip (I'm at a library again), so I will update my blog whenever possible. Hang in there!

Tour of Canada's Maritime Provinces, Part 1 - Royersford to Oxford, Nova Scotia

   After last year’s Benelux adventure, we were initially thinking of a very simple getaway of a couple weeks this summer. We started discussing something to the north, and before I knew it, my should-have-been-a-travel-agent wife had in place the outline of a trek through Canada’s maritime provinces!

   We certainly didn’t want to sink money into air travel, and when the idea of taking our trail bikes and kayaks crossed our minds, the only option was hitting the road with our Odyssey van. I don’t mind driving at all, and after taking our boys in 2006 on a six-week cross-country tour nearing 10,000 miles, a prospective trip of just a couple thousand didn’t even make me blink.

   Anyone who knows us is aware of our “bikes in the car” rule, so the van’s middle seats came out, and we still had plenty of room for luggage, cycling gear, coolers and gluten-free supplies for me (we weren’t too sure what we’d find along the way). Paddles and life vests were also thrown inside, and our kayaks were strapped to the Odyssey roof.

   It’s always a bit amusing to fine-tune the kayak straps, as they tend to hum like violin strings if they aren’t pulled tightly down to the hulls, but we did remarkably well, as there was only some rattling from the padlock cable we had fed through the middle for security. We have a trailer that we had been using during trips down the Schuylkill or at local lakes, and it had been years since we last used the Thule kayak mounts on our roof rack.

  Our trip strategy was to divide the 950-mile outbound trip into thirds, stopping first in Bangor, Maine. In choosing our route, we added a bit of distance in a tradeoff to avoid all major metropolitan areas. We also managed to hit the minor cities outside of rush hour – the only real slow-downs were slight construction delays caused by a reduction of lanes. We were making wonderful time through New England.

   Sue had arranged Airbnb accommodations along the way, and they are a bit of a lottery sometimes, particularly within our budget range. We tend to deal with rustic conditions better than most folks, as we focus on the idea that the surroundings, not the sleeping arrangements, are the main attraction. Bangor really turned out to be neither an attraction nor an accommodation.

   The location choice was actually a back-up for an earlier reservation that had fallen through when the owner notified us – on rather short notice – that she was no longer hosting guests. The shabby apartment in which we ended up felt more like a dorm, with a downstairs common kitchen and lounge and an upstairs hallway of doors to other guestrooms and a shared bath. However, the queen-sized bed was comfortable enough, and we were only staying there overnight, so it was no big deal.

   A few guests had arrived later than us, were courteous and quiet, and surprisingly disappeared before we even got up in the morning! We had the kitchen all to ourselves for a quick morning breakfast, a check of the email and brush of teeth before leaving on our next leg of the trip.

   Much of the route through Maine was familiar territory to us, as we had visited Bar Harbor several times. Other than the obvious change from deciduous to coniferous (or carnivorous, as we enjoyed visualizing in our imaginations) forest, there wasn’t anything too remarkable to comment on along the way.

   At the border crossing into Canada, just south of St. Stephen, New Brunswick, we were reminded of a trip up through Niagara Falls into Toronto in 2001. We had the boys with us, and during the return into the U.S we were absolutely grilled at the border crossing. A mini-van with two small boys and only a small bag of postcards purchased in T.O. – we shook our heads in exasperation as the customs officer went over us with a fine-toothed comb, and this was a few months before 9/11!

   We weren’t expecting the impressive superhighway across New Brunswick, and we quickly arrived for a planned visit to St. John and the Reversing Rapids. Here the outrushing St. John River flows over rapids through a narrow rocky channel to meet the Bay of Fundy. The incredibly extreme tides in the bay cause the river to change direction over the rapids.

   Now I'm going to get all geological on you! The area is a collision point of two terranes, which are broken off pieces of tectonic plates. The rocks south of the bridge at St. John are Cambrian age rocks of the Caledonia Terrane (542 to 490 million years old). North of the bridge the light gray rocks are Precambrian age from the Brookville Terrane. Both terranes originated in the southern hemisphere, but they are 500 million years different in age!

  We didn’t want to stay throughout the full three-hour process when small boats are actually allowed to navigate through the narrows during slack tide, so I've included the shot Sue took of the area, and I'll leave you to investigate more photos on the 'net, if you are interested

   As we traveled through the communities of Saint John and Moncton, I found it incredible to think that these, and farther-reaching communities such as Halifax and Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and even Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, were once the homes of American Hockey League franchises. I’m not sure why NHL teams would want to spend the money on travel for players on their farm teams – from 1988-96 Cape Breton hosted the Edmonton Oilers minor league squad!

   Our stop-over point this evening was Oxford, Nova Scotia, the “Wild Blueberry Capital of Canada”, and we were pleasantly surprised by a small, 100-year-old house that we had all to ourselves. We were regretting somewhat that we were only doing an overnight in such a charming place!

A large Blueberry Man statue greets visitors as they swing down Main Street.

   While browsing some brochures left on the kitchen table, I found that the Trans-Canada Trail passed just a couple of blocks from the house. Since it had been a few days since I had been on the bike, I suggested to Sue that we eat a light dinner and go for a short ride – well, she could go as far as she liked, but I would probably go farther.

   We quickly found out that trail sections in Canada that are far from the more densely-populated areas are not maintained at all, and even worse, see a good deal of traffic from ATVs! The surface was mostly a thick layer of small rock, not quite railroad ballast-sized, but just as rough to ride over. Pedaling was an extremely nervous affair, not only because of the minor risk of flatting but also the danger of crashing. The 30+ millimeter ‘cross tires we both had on our wheels proved durable enough, but a wider, mountain bike tire would have been more appropriate to take on this unstable surface.

   If we noted one side of the trail was barer/smoother than the other and tried to switch over, our front wheels would slide in the rock and cause us to lose control. A few sections were just unrideable, and we attempted to walk but were met with an attack of mosquitoes and large, black biting flies. A couple of insects smacked hard into my helmet in unsuccessful dive-bomb attempts to my face, and we both resorted to a cyclocross-style run with the bikes until we felt the riding conditions were manageable.

   After three palm- and butt-numbing miles, we were able to ditch the trail onto a side road and hooked up with Main Street back into Oxford. I continued on for another 15 miles or so, on a very pleasant route out and back along the River Philip. In hindsight, especially after I later saw a map and realized that I was only a couple miles from the Northumberland Strait when I had turned around, we should have just done the river ride and saved ourselves some torture.

   Internet availability will be sparse during our trip (I'm actually "checking in" at a local library right now), so I will update my blog whenever possible. Be patient!

Single-ring Saronni?

   First off, the replacement spring for the Campagnolo C-Record rear derailleur finally arrived in the mail, and I was able to put the finishing touches on Brendan’s Tommasini:

   During his pick-up visit, Brendan returned his KAS Vitus 979, with the intent for me to convert it to an all-Mavic set-up. For a little while I have been setting aside parts in anticipation of this project, and he also confessed he also had a recently-purchased purple 992 tucked away somewhere in his apartment, but those are stories for another time.

   A couple weeks ago I received a call from someone interested in the bikes I had for sale. Taylor mentioned how he liked my vintage builds but didn’t quite have the budget for the selection I currently had available. I asked what he was looking to spend and then suggested we might be able to do a custom build to one of the frames I had in stock.

   He had seen the Bottecchia single-speed conversion I had done recently for Brendan, as well as my Bianchi cyclocross bike with the 1x10 setup, and wondered if we might be able to do some type of “vintage 1x10”. So far It has turned into a bit of an experiment with mixed results.

   One of my concerns was trying to stay within a budget with Campagnolo parts, but one of Taylor’s early concessions was using a downtube shift lever, instead of the more costly modern combination brake/shift levers. I was able to find a set of Vento wheels, just like those currently on my Colnago, and because the Saronni paint/decal scheme was so close to that on my Master X-Light, Taylor encouraged me to go with a very similar look, including the Schwalbe tires with a thin red stripe.

    I found a nice set of Campagnolo brake levers with aero cable routing and a pair of Campy Triomphe shift levers, which have a high-polished finish, giving what I think is a nice blend of modern and vintage style. We decided to use a decorative cap on the left-hand shifter boss, instead of using a dummy lever in the 1x10 setup. Taylor also liked the look of the drilled-out single chainring I had included on Brendan’s Bottecchia, so I ordered one of those.

   It was soon obvious that, at the rate at which costs were starting to add up, it would be necessary to fall back on one of my money-saving strategies, finding a donor bike with a majority of the components needed to complete the project. In an amazingly short time, the perfect candidate was found on craigslist, in the form of a Torelli Brianza equipped with mid-range Campagnolo Centaur gruppo.

   The seller and I met up in the East Falls section of Philadelphia, and we had an enjoyable conversation about vintage bikes. I ribbed Steve about the splash bar tape on the bike, and he argued that it was era-appropriate. I, of course, argued that the handlebar abomination was NEVER appropriate, except for perhaps blind cyclists!

   It turned out that the reason he was selling the bike was to fund the recent purchase of a Colnago that was the expensive, carbon-fiber version of the aluminum bike I sold about a year ago (photo below). The best part of the deal was that Steve supplied me with a couple of extras that, when combined with the other parts that weren’t going to be used and could be sold off, will provide a wonderful budget cushion with which to finish the Saronni project! 

  

   Sue and I will be heading off on a trip to Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, including lots of pedaling and paddling. Details to come...