On April 1, 2005 I set off across Canada on my bicycle. Or at least I'd planned to cross Canada. These pages are an account of that trip, as told through travelogs I sent to friends. I hope you enjoy the ride!

Winnipeg, Manitoba!!!

Hey Kids,
No applause, but expressions of hurray, made in monetary donations to my bank account would be seriously appreciated!

It's how I came to be in this muddy berg that is the real story.

Last you heard I was in Moose Jaw trying to figure out if my new Iranian friend would make suitable company. The task of trying to figure that out was removed, for the mostpart, when I ran into a couple Kiwi girls, sisters, cycling the same direction.

After visiting their campsite, and hearing how they like to take it east, 60 to 80 K a day, and were into riding south to Highway 13, but were waiting for info on it, which I provided to them, I thought great! I now have a couple charming, seemingly compatible women to temper Faz with.

So the next day Faz and I set out, while the girls did some last minute shopping, towards Weyburn. We faced a stern south wind that day, and once turning off the Trans Canada, it became a total header. It was nice to be on relatively empty highway, but it was not nice to have the header, especially when I knew the day's ride would be in excess of 80K, because of campground availability.

For the first several tens of K, Faz followed along behind me. This irked me somewhat because the guy is a former member of the Iranian National Cycling Team, and I knew his speed was much faster. At every point where I stopped, he would stop, and stare at me impatiently, waiting for me to continue. Finally I told him: "Faz, go at your own speed. I don't like that you're waiting around for me. Makes me uncomfortable. So go. I'll meet you in Milestone this evening."

He grumbled, "Maybe!" and moved on.

The ride got a little easier from there. Without someone hovering I was able to do okay. I enjoyed a little stop in Rousel, or Rouseau, or something like that, where the Canadian TV sitcom, "Corner Gas" is filmed. I thought it funny. A few days earlier I'd been in a town I thought was like Corner Gas, now I was actually in the place, known as Dog River to you TV freaks.

Anyway, about 6 pm, I pulled into Milestone, where Faz had already set up camp. Faz, who'd arrived hours earlier, was off at the community pool, suntanning and swimming. He was by then apparently glad I'd pushed him, it had made for a day of relaxation.

The girls didn't show up. They got offered a stay in Rousseau, and had taken it, lucky them. Lucky because later that night a tornado touched down not 10K from where Faz and I were camped. Once again my tarp was blown from its mooring and I found myself, in the middle of the night, holding down the tarp with all fours whilst the lightning crashed and the winds rocked the hell out of the RV parked next door. Trees flailed, dinner tents ripped and shredded, then blew across the fields.

Sirens moaned. Power went out. For 30 minutes I quivered beneath my tarp, ready to join some religion or be born again. Then, as quickly as it came up, it eased, leaving only a steady heavy rain in its wake.

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful. Faz moved early to Weyburn, and I took a couple hours to dry out my sleeping bag and gear. Then, I headed for the local library, only to run smack into the Kiwis having breakfast at the local hotel. I joined them for coffee, then we all headed out together in a good tailwind for Weyburn. I found their pace a little fast but not bad, and really enjoyed riding and talking with them.

That night we camped together in Weyburn, cooked up a big communal meal, and Faz, who'd camped with some other folks, joined us.

In the morning the wind had turned from the south again. We all, the Kiwis and Faz, did a little shopping around town then headed out. The girls and Faz wanted to make Carlyle, about 100K. I was doubtful about my ability to get past Stoughton, about 60K. It was the day after the day before. I'd not had a real good night’s sleep, having been in a storm, then been all excited over dinner, nor had my legs necessarily recovered from the hard ride to Milestone. By midday I was trashed. I expressed my condition repeatedly to my new pals. By Stoughton, I was ready to quit. I caught up to my pals having a reststop in Stoughton, they'd been forging ahead. I asked if they still planned to go all the way to Carlyle.

Beaten up and hurting, not wanting to go another K, I was not happy to hear they planned to go on. After all their talk about going easy, seeing the country, riding together, they now seemed not at all concerned that I was toast. I got a little mad, "Well then, have a good 40 K ride in a 30 K headwind."

I rode off, angry, and now had to go another 15 K to a cheap camp, the ones in Stoughton were $20 a night. I rode hard and fast, but near the village of Kisbey, the trio caught up. They slowed to talk but by then I was over the edge. My right leg was charley horsing and I could barely see because of the pain, and my own personal tiredness. When they stopped I yelled, "go on, get going, you're in a hurry, you didn't expect me to stay back there and pay $20 did you."

"If you're going to yell goodbye, said the one Kiwis, and off they rode. Half an hour later I managed to pull into Kisbey, feeling momentarily bad, then quietly, as I managed to get my camp set, my dinner cooked, my leg iced, and some writing done, I began to feel good again.

I slept like a baby, and the next day made the run to Manor. I would have gotten all the way to Redvers, but was stopped by a line of black cloud and lightning stretching the length of the eastern sky. I stopped, set camp, but didn't sleep well for some reason.

The next morning I was up early, and made the 30 K to Redvers in record time, just over an hour. There I found Faz and the Kiwis, just setting out. I gave them hell for abandoning me, and for telling me they went slow, averaged 70 to 80K and were into taking it easy. They brushed me off and kept riding. I stopped, slept 14 hours, and took myself out for dinner, a $10 pork smorg, only my third dinner out since I started in April.

The next morning I got wind, good wind, no, great wind. In something less than seven hours I rode 105 K to Souris, Manitoba, my first ever ride over 100 K. Yahoo! I paid dearly for camping that night, $15, and had a camper come up with a role of string, telling me Faz and the Kiwis had been there the night before and left it. I took the string, it always comes in handy.

That day I rode 109 K, to Holland, where I had planned to write you all. I was going to say, Hi from Holland, and boast about my great accomplishment of cracking 100, but I got up earlier than the local library.

I rode off again, yesterday, planning to go but 60 to 70 K, to the outskirts of Winnipeg, which I fully intended to bypass. You know what they say of the best laid plans!

After 60 K in a crosswind I found myself where no camping was allowed. Next town, (Starbuck) the same thing. Before I could do much about it, I was 117 K down the road at the outskirts of the "Peg." There was no camping allowed there either.

At 7pm I began the 20 K push into the main part of town, where I knew I could at least find a hostel. By nine, with the help of a rather chubby rec cyclist, and two dolled-up girls in a white sports car, I found my way to the Maryland district, and the backpackers hostel, where, with wobbly knees and a degree of delirium, I checked in and counted up the K. I'd done 140 K, with lunch and dinner breaks, in less than 10 hours! I'm a fooking bicycle jock kids!

No sleep last night, and I paid $20 for the right. Luckily, the host, Bill, is going to let me camp in the yard for $10 tonight. I'm just too burned to ride, so its a good deal. And besides, Winnipeg is kinda cool. There's trees here, real neighbourhoods, and lots of friendly folks. And I don't want to see hide nor hair of Blu or BoB for a day. I need a break. I have sent an email to the Kiwis, abologizing for yelling. I don't think it'll do any good, and I don't really think those girls were being straight up anyway. And if the truth be known, I sort of glad to be free of Faz, who I didn't really like.

So, here I am, with a week to go before pay day. I've got about $80 to do it, and will definitely have to get out of the rent zone by tomorrow. Too bad, I like it here and wouldn't mind taking an extra day or two to check it out, but I can't do that and eat as well, so tomorrow I'll go.

Where!

I'm going, or at least I plan to go, EAST! I've got maps and guides for Ontario. I know I said I'd turn around, but to hell with that. I'm halfway across the continent. I'm going dam it, unless something serious gets in my way. (Look out for the 1000 K of Mossies Will!).

Well, that's the short of the long of it. I'll put the details in a book and charge ya $25 to read it.

Library time is up. Fook, I'm pleased of my progress and my sudden ability to tear up the road.

Send money, but most of all, have fun.
Will