Yes, our hearts bounce as we finally get a glimpse of the Atlantic today pulling into St Johns, but not before a long wet day. This morning as we pack up to leave Fredericton, we are met with a steady drumbeat of rain.
Yes, our hearts bounce as we finally get a glimpse of the Atlantic today pulling into St Johns, but not before a long wet day. This morning as we pack up to leave Fredericton, we are met with a steady drumbeat of rain. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide: "Suck it up Buttercup,” as Gin likes to say. "Kid, just shut up and do your chinstrap up,” as my Montreal friends say. There's a few heads up when your road biking in the rain. When early morning rain hits dry heated asphalt from the day before it bring the oil to the surface, unstable for 1.3 inch racing tires. In addition painted lines become more slippery and railway tracks are skull and crossbones. Tracks even for experts must be crossed perpendicularly. When it's wet they are like ice and the rider is down. Maybe just a scrape, maybe a broken arm or hip. Novices should at minimum get out of their pedals and if its a triple set, even walk the tracks. Gin breaks all the rules going over the tracks and escapes with a rear tire nearly shooting out from under her. I give her %^<{¥ about it and she humbly admits she €#+~]~£ up.
Anyway, wet we get, soaked rats we are and it's not like the west, it's a wet rain. We find a solution to sweat and rain running into our eyes, rendering sight impossible, but donning a baseball cap underneath our helmets. The hat does twofold duty and allows us to glide into St. Johns with some consolation. We are somewhat on the time lock as we have a rally downtown and earlier Zoe Grams our fantastic media consultant from ZG Communications gives us a high alert e mail that CBC want to interview us before the rally. Quinn squeezes the big 53ft rig expertly through the narrow rush hour streets of St Johns until we hit the town square .
After a successful rally, we head to our campground in the pouring rain. Friday is always "steak night” for Gin and I since we were dating when she was 16, so we are armed with choice tenderloins, corn, asparagus and new potatoes. Keenan the contrarian is "armed", with two giant portobello mushrooms which he calls his steak. Different views on armour, eh? On goes the music, out comes the white wine, morale is right and we can smell the sea in our nostrils.
