Cooldown

Heading out of Montreal, the plan was to spend a few days with family again, them lay up again by getting the train down to Toronto for the final night as I was flying back from there direct to Glasgow.

As with all plans it didn't quite work out that way and I was running around a bit trying to see everyone before I left, which I didn't quite manage.

I'm conscious that this blog may have left you with a really good impression of Canada so it's probably best that I warn you of some of the problems. You'll have picked up on the heat from reading through, but it's worth mentioning again. It was over 30 degrees more times than I care to remember, so if you like heat you'll love it, but for me, I could not stand outside even in the shade without sweating.

Another fundamental problem is salad. It's hard not to be offered it everywhere. It's not as bad as cheese but can be a bit draining. A typical conversation would go like:

Them (all of them): Would you like some salad?
Me: No thank you.
Them: Go on, it's very good.
Me: No (looking grumpy)
Them: Hmm ok, what about some mayonnaise?
Me: No (getting annoyed)
Them: Are you sure?
Me: Look pal, I just want to pay for my petrol!

This scene was obviously from a petrol station, but it happened everywhere. Nutters, but I guess they mean well.

Another problem is that Health and Safety has gone mad as evidenced by the sign in this picture.

Imagine the scenario where you are rolling up on some fools, but now have to hope they will hang around for two minutes while you assemble and load the weapon, before you blast them.

I just envisage a few practical problems with that so I'm not sure it will work.

 Another problem is the animals. To be fair this is not Australia where the deadliest animals sneak up on you by slithering along the ground, or dropping from a silk web, or drag you down from under the water. These ones are right up in your face.

Imagine if you will that you've been told that you're going to a racetrack only to find it's been privately booked for the day. Now you have to hang around for your little sister, who is at a tea party. To top it all off up wanders a polar bear, and he doesn't want to be friends.

At this point it's important to note that I was out of emergency shortbread, but fortunately the bear could sense almost a dozen hyper young girls were about to come pouring into the lobby and decided to leg it.

 One of the most common and deadly dangers is biker chicks. Lots have their own bikes and they will roll around on full dress Harleys in denim and leather, but it's not unusual to come back to your unattended bike and find them draped over it.

This gorgeous example is barely eighteen months old, but instinctively knew how to work the throttle. She is going to be so much trouble.

There is also the problem of very small astronauts running around. You rarely notice them until they are right upon you.

 So there you have it a balanced report. There was a day in Toronto, but when I got back down there the heat had gone up again and it was humid so I mostly hid in the shopping malls or the cinema. Cowboys and Aliens is ok, and Attack the Block is quite funny.

For one last adventure I shunned the $25 dollar convenient airport shuttle to wrestle my luggage along the subway system and then get a bus. It took 15 minutes longer, but only cost $3. Money well saved when I had to pay for the excess baggage at the airport. It would have been much more if they weighed my hand luggage or the bike jacket I'd stuff full of cameras, and external disk drives.

I may try and upload some videos in a future post if I can edit them well enough to be worth watching, but for now I'll leave you with the star of the show.

The Honda Magna V45, 26 years old and had only done just over 34,000 kms before I got it. I added just over 8,000 kms in three and a half weeks.

The only problems were largely of my own making, the bent clutch lever, running out of fuel etc. It does need the clocks reattached as they shook loose the first day on the gravel, the coolant needs flushed, I replaced a tyre, and had an oil change done, but that's it. It did all those miles with no preparation at all, and now it sits in my cousins garage, waiting for the next trip. Just epic.

Montreal

The next morning in Quebec City it was pouring of rain, so I took advantage of the noon checkout to update the blog, all the while hoping it would clear up.

Sadly it didn't, so it was on with the rain suit and then time to set off. The drivers in Quebec are a bit nuts, it's exponentially faster here than anywhere else on the trip so far. Not particularly aggressive or threatening, but it is a wake up call after bimbling around. 

On the way to Montreal I stopped for fuel at a place with a restaurant next door, which had loads of dinosaurs in the area around the car park, plus a few monster trucks casually parked. This must be a huge hit with the kids travelling past, and the car park was full when I was there. The downside for then I guess is that wild horses couldn't have made me eat in there with all the hyper kids bouncing around.

By this time the rain had stopped and it was sunny and far too hot again, but I didn't want to stop to take off the goretex, as it would have meant unpacking the luggage to put it away.

I'd booked the hotel in advance as my cousin and I had problems getting a room last year, but now I had to find the place. I knew roughly where it was, but Montreal is on an island so getting across the correct bridge was important. I'd stopped outside of town to fuel up the bike and myself and check the maps on last time before setting off. In the end it was fairly easy, as I stumbled on the correct north/south road then just had to stay on it and hope I or the bike didn't boil at the traffic lights.

 Needless to say I arrive like the swamp thing, sweaty and smelly wearing full goretex on a fabulous warm sunny day.

Once showered and changed into my shorts and t-shirt I head out, and typically the heavens open and this time I get soaked. It was kind of like home with the rain bouncing off of the pavement, except the rain was warm, which I haven't experienced since Australia.

 Rue St Catherine is the main shopping street, plus it has clubs and such, so it's nice to walk down anytime of the day. There was a comical moment that night when six or seven men about town were wandering through and one decided to grab one of the trees and pull it. The passing cop car gave it's siren a twirl and the guy almost leapt into the air. He couldn't apologise fast enough, so the cops just let them go.

This diner is also on the same street, and I'd eaten there last year, so decided to go back. No meatloaf on the menu this time though.

 As if the rain the previous evening wasn't enough, the City send round these trucks with a remote control nozzle on the front to water the trees. They also have folk on smaller vehicles the trucks can't get down. just to keep the city pretty. It goes down well with the tourists.

On a bright sunny day like this it's hard to imagine the winters at 30 below, but beneath the streets there is an underground city of connected malls and subway stations running for miles.

 I'd walked all over the city last year, so I'd decided to take a bus tour this year. There were only five or six stops which was surprising for such a big cultured city. The first stop was at the cathedral, then on to the casino, where I did get off, but mostly to change bus as the driver was a muppet. The highlight of this part was passing the Molson factory.

This place was founded in 1786 by an Englishman who arrived with two barrels of barley and a book on how to make beer. Now it's the second oldest company in Canada and one of the largest brewers in the world.

 The other highlight was St Joseph's Oratory. It was started in 1904 by brother Andre who was later made a Saint for his healing.

The scale is immense as you can see from the size of the people and cars nearby. It's a common theme in the new world for people from all over to erect a church as soon as they arrive, and these structures are magnificent, even to those who don't follow the faith anymore like me.

 As well as lots of motorbikes on the roads n Canada and America, there are all kinds of three wheel vehicles. These are not like the choppers at home where a car axle has been grafted onto the back of a motorbike, but factory made machines designed this way. The one in the picture has motorbike panniers on the back for luggage.

Sometimes the two wheel axle is on the back, rather than the one pictured. I think they are made by the same companies that make the snow mobiles.

This photo was taken from a lookout point just beneath Mont Royal. The sloping structure in the distance is the site of the Montreal Olympics. You can travel up the ramp by a sort of cable car, but as I'd done it last year I didn't go back.

Mont Royal is a nice park, bought back from the rich families who had their houses there in the 1800's. Mostly Scottish, Irish and English as it turned out. An interesting thing I hadn't known was that the Montreal flag has a symbol for each of the nations which settled in the city.

There is the fleur-de-lis for the French, the Lancastrian rose for the Engligh (shame, I was always a Yorshire rose man), the thistle for the Scots and a shamrock for the Irish. I meant to get a flag to bring home, but as with the Nova Scotia flag I wanted, I didn't have time.

In all my time in Quebec I had no problems with the locals, all of them were happy to switch to English when my very poor French wasn't good enough. I really like this city, it's probably my favourite in Canada. Well, so far anyway.

Quebec City

 From Baie Comeau to Quebec City, it's a little over 400kms. You can take a ferry over the St Lawrence, but I'd been told the north side of the river was better so I ran down that instead. I did get very confused when the road forced me towards a ferry, but that was just to cross the St Catherine (I think) and then carried on as normal.

The day had started off grey, but the sun came out and the temperature is back to 30 Celsius, which isn't that much fun for me. The ride down was lovely, great scenery and nice roads, and I made it all the way to the city before stopping to check the maps as I was staying in Levis on the other side of the river. To get there I had to swing south round the town and head back north a short distance. It seemed ok on the map when I booked, but on checking the mileage it was 20 odd kms from the fuel station so I hoped there was a bridge back across. It turned out here was a ferry which was even better.

 The old town has lots of touristy things going on, all sorts of folk in period dress wandering around, crammed restaurants, groups of folk blindly stopping in the middle of the street, the usual things.

It was certainly a change from being in the middle of nowhere all on my own.

Some of the odd folk in period dress. There were some other odd folk wandering around with badges that purported to be a tourist thing, but the one who accosted me didn't speak English so I was spared that.

You can take the funicular up to the Chateau, or can walk on the windy streets. I hadn't had much exercise for a while so chose to walk, but in that heat with boots and jeans it was tougher than I'd expected.

 This is looking back down into the old city from the Governers boardwalk.

Lots of people strolling around, both down in the Old town and up on the boardwalk, taking pictures and enjoying the sun.

 Another view of the Chateau from the boardwalk. I'm not sure of the history of the building, but it's enormous and dominates this part of the city.

 A view down to the St Lawrence from the boardwalk. You can see the huge ship coming through, and all the little ones hoping it doesn't hit them.

It did feel a bit Disneyland at times though, as while you have the very pretty tourist section, there seem to be multiple plants and factories just along the river.

 I've no idea what this building is or whether in fact it's one of the hot air balloons that were on the other side of the river. They were too far away for me to get a good picture, so I'm not sure if this was going to head off and join them.

 The same ship, and some of the industrial area I mentioned before. I think all of the ships heading onto the lakes and then on to Chicago and such may come through here, but I'll have to read up on that and do a sneaky edit if I'm wrong.

 Once I'd walked the length of the Governors boardwalk I came to the Plains of Abraham, where the British fought the French for the city. There had been a siege but the British had managed to land on this side of the city under cover of darkness, climb the escarpment, and land enough troops to overwhelm the small garrison and hold it while reinforcements could arrive. Once they did the French came out and the battle was joined. For all of about 15 minutes. Both Generals died, but the British had the city. The timing was fortunate as the Navy had to leave before the river iced up. The French won a battle nearby the following year, but the British retreated into the Citadel and waited until Spring when the Navy could come back with reinforcements. That was end of French rule in Canada, though as you can see the culture is still very much alive.

 Lots of horse carriages trundle around the old city. This horse had wandered over to the side of the road and mounted the pavement before I realised that the green fountain was there for it to drink out of. Once watered up it wandered off again.

 Cheese! This is the restaurant Parmesan. You think it would be empty, but no this being semi France it's full of cheese eaters, or more likely devil worshippers in secret if you ask me.

 A view back into the old town from above. The mural from the earlier picture is on the building on the right.

At this point I'd had enough of the crowds and the heat, so decided to head back to ferry.

A last view of the Chateau from the departing ferry.

The last stretch

 Today was another long day of 365 miles, or almost 600 kilometres. The gravel section i think is about 159 miles, but it's in two sections with tarmac in between around the abandoned town of Gagnon. This was a mining down bulldozed in the 80's, but the roads are still there if you go off to look for them. I knew this would take me a while so I didn't plan any side trips.

First thing was to ride on to Fermont and fuel up. This is another mining town, so I guess the huge building is another company owned thing. The language switches here to French, of which I only have a few words, but it'll be fine.

 The first gravel section from Fire Lake to Mount Wright is dreadful. The day was grey and overcast to begin with so the mine doesn't look as bad as it could, but it's still ugly. The lake is a strange colour and the leavings scatter the area all around.

Lots of trucks on this section moving between the mine and the town, even pre-fabricated buildings are being hauled around on this road. Helicopters are ferrying things too, and I saw one float plane buzzing around.

 This picture doesn't really do justice to the scale of the place, but those little tonka toys are the huge things you need to climb a ladder to get in to. That's my little camera on max zoom, and they are still tiny.

I'd been carrying fuel on my back for the last two days in the rucksack, but I found it unsettled my balance, so I'd tried strapping it to the main bag again. On one side I'd secured it to the main bag, but that proved to be a mistake as it dragged all the luggage off to one side. In the end I just let it hang as I'd gotten fed up trying to sort it. At one point a pickup stopped me to tell me it was loose, just slowed to a halt after he'd passed me. Stopping out here isn't all that easy either and I generally like a nice long planned approach, but had to haul up quickly. He apologised when he saw it was safe, just ugly looking, but I knew I'd be better off with the fuel in the tank as soon as I could.

This was one of my nightmares. I'd stopped to try to repack the load again, and when I went to move off the bike wouldn't start. I knew I had fuel, the starter was turning, it just wouldn't catch. So after taking off my gear again I start pulling off panels, checking electrical connections, fuel lines, fuses, everything I could see, but still nothing.

I'd swiped an apple from the hotel lobby so I ate it while I considered my options. While the road was busy before I'd seen nothing in all the time I was stuck here. In the end the flies got so bad I put my helmet back on, and when thinking through what the problem could be I went back to basics and checked the simple things. It turned out I'd hit the kill switch when I put the helmet on the mirror. The kill switch is a big red switch on the right hand side of the bars next to the throttle. the idea is if you have an accident or come across a bike that's been in one, you hit that switch and it shuts off the engine. With it on, the bike won't start, just like an immobiliser. When I figured out I was so glad no-one had come along and found it for me.

I'd had conflicting information regarding the next petrol station so I ran until the end of the middle tarmac section where one report had suggested it was. When it wasn't there I put the fuel from the bag into the tank and set off on the gravel again. These sections of gravel are older than some of the others I'd been on, and it's full of blind corners, blind summit, swoops and climbs. Whoever designed it must have been on an acid trip as it was treacherous. You can't see what's coming and you need to cross a railway line over and over again. I counted eight crossings, but it may have been more.

The good thing about the long first stint was that I didn't need extra fuel to get to the Manic % dam fuel stop where the tarmac started again. At the first petrol station the bill was $17.28, so I handed over $50.28 and the lady gave me $15 ish dollars in change. Um, no. I think she'd rung my fuel through twice, and when a guy in the queue explained that she got shirty with him. In the end it got sorted. The next fuel stop at Manic 5 a similar thing happened where i spent $17 on fuel, bought an ice lolly to celebrate the end of the gravel and some lifesavers five flavours. The lifesavers are great, like fruit polos at home, always good to crunch on when taking a break. Anyway, I had a $20 note ready and some shrapnel and she rings up $32. Um, no.

After that it was a long tarmac section down to Baie Comeau. Those same swoops, dips, blind corners and summits were there, but on tarmac they were fabulous. I just coasted all the way long, though still being overtaken by all the pickups and cars.

In Baie Comeau

Labrador City

Nice day again the next morning. You can imagine a local checking, keys, wallet, mesh hat as he nips out for a paper.

I called the town office to check on the tours, but the morning one had been cancelled, so the earliest was 1.30pm. That was leaving it later than I'd like to head for Labrador City, so I decided to miss the tour. That was a shame as I was looking forward to it. The restaurant had pictures of these huge rooms, half a mile across with one small desk in it, sort of like a Bond film.

When I went down to check out the receptionist, said be careful on the road. Now people have been telling me that for all of the trip so far, but I knew this was different. I quickly went through the do I want to know argument in my head, but figured it could be a bad section of the road, so I had better be prepared.

A motorcyclist had died the previous day heading into Churchill Falls from the west, so the road I would be riding in the opposite direction today. Thankfully he only said it was about an hour out of town rather than giving me a distance, as at my relative speed an hour could be 40kms different from his and I really didn't want to be looking for an accident site.

As he explained it, there was a lorry nearby, so the clouds of dust reduced visibility, but I wasn't sure if the there was impact with the truck or not. He did mention a cyclist was there, and I'd seen the cyclist the previous day as I was unloading my bike, but he'd gone in the evening. When I went downstairs the cyclist was working on his bike in the big hall in the large building. I asked him if he'd seen the accident, and he told me he'd been involved. He also mentioned the truck, but said the first he knew of it, the motorbike had hit him from behind, he fell left onto the road, and the motorbike with rider, went right off the road. The rider went over the bars and hit the only pile of rocks for 100 metres in any direction. He was pronounced dead at the scene. The cyclist was shaken up and bruised, his bike had damage, so he was hoping to hitch to Goose Bay and rest up for a week. He was heading back to Ohio where his parents lived of the course of the next few months.

I noticed that I was much slower that day. The road probably wasn't as bad as the day before, but I couldn't get the crash out of my head. It's not really worth speculating on how it happened, but I couldn't stop thinking that it was rider error.

The picture of the road I took that day during my only fuel stop. You can see the grooves again, the heavy area of stones on the right hand side, and the horrible camber of the road. Once you get into that loose stuff it's hard to get back out.

You don't really have a lot of time to look at the scenery as you have to concentrate on the road, but when you stop, or when you can grab a second, it is very nice up here. Lots of trees, lakes and such stretching off as far as the eye can see.

I knew that the tarmac was extending out from Labrador City to Churchill Falls, but I didn't know how far, so I was very pleasantly surprised when it began about 90kms from the town. There was a McDonalds at a junction, so I'd pulled in to use their free wifi so I could find my motel, that I'd booked in advance this time, only to realise that it was next door.

Labrador City has always been dominated by the mines nearby, but it's going through a boom at the moment, so rooms are hard to get without booking in advance, and it seems that every other vehicle is a pickup with an orange flag on it. I guess it makes them more visible to the huge trucks on the mines. 

It was nice to have a Tim Hortons again and a Subway, but odd to see that they were open 24 hours out here. The mines must run all night.

 No real point to this picture other than I thought Jubbers was a cool name. As ever pickups with flags abound.

There were quite a few bikes running around too, very clean Harleys and some sportsbikes thrashing around, not indicating, or indicating the wrong way. They were like angry insects buzzing around on this little tarmac island.

This bike was in the motel parking lot the next morning. It's also from Ontario, and has a second set of tyres next to it. The knobblies are on it now and the road tyres stacked next to them, so I don't know if they are about to be fitted or have just been taken off.

That's the Trans Labrador Highway pretty much complete, as it's tarmac to the border with Quebec nearby, but there is still 150 miles or so of gravel to do tomorrow including a section that I've been told is one of the worst.

Churchill Falls

After the mammoth run yesterday, this is only 280kms or so, but i'll still need to carry extra fuel. The staff at the petrol stations are used to people filling containers, but I have had some weird looks with the fuel bags. No-one has tried to stop me or said anything about it though.

The going was easy to begin with, I think almost 80kms (50 miles) of tarmac, leading out from Goose Bay, so I made decent time. When that went though, the road was horrible. I counted four sections being graded, and the rest of it just seemed to be marbles all day.

I'm not entirely sure of the process in what the graders are doing. I understand that they make the surface flatter, but I can't work out what the purpose of all the stones is. They Highway team, seem to dump all the stones on the road, then the grader shuffles them around as best I can tell. To be fair they do usually warn you with signs where the grader is working, but the really evil thing it does is to create a berm in the middle of the oad that can be 8 inches or so high. Riding behind the grader isn't too bad as it's heavy so it's tracks smooth a path, but at some point you need to overtake be ploughing though that berm. Ideally I'd do this at a right angle, but that means going too slow, so you need to attack it a little and hope you land ok. If the grader is on the other side of the road, then you can have oncoming traffic in your lane. What fun that is.

I've finally managed to get the video camera recording properly, so this is the first day when I have high definition video on the TLH, but i'll need to edit it first, which probably won't get done until I get home. Hopefully I've filmed the part when the tyres got on opposite sides of a berm, then a wiggle became a weave, which very nearly became a tank slapper. On another occasion once over the berm and on the wrong side of the road, I had two pickups behind me, so had to move more quickly, so quickly that I couldn't get safely back over the berm, so the two trucks crossed over to the correct side of the road and undertook me. I managed to get back across only when the berm ended as this time it must have been almost 1 foot high. The picture above is a point where I'd just had enough for a bit and had to stop. The bridge was fabulously flat and stone free.

I often find it easier once I've stopped for a few minutes. Whether the road does actually get better or it's all in my head, I couldn't really say, but stopping for a breather does help.

Churchill Falls is a company town, in that the energy company which diverted all the water from the original falls to generate electricty, built it, owns it, and for the most part only it's employees live there. The big building in the centre of town contains the only motel, the supermarket, bank, pool (I think) and probably some other stuff. I guess it makes sense in the winter, you only have to go to one place, but it feels slightly odd. It reminds me slightly of work, as the building I work in has a small supermarket, hairdresser, deli, two starbucks, a bookshop, drycleaners, flower shop etc.

The company runs tours of the plant, so I'd hoped to get on one, but it was still early in the day so I was in half a mind to push on to Labrador City. What I thought best was to go into the motel, see if they had any rooms, and if not I'd push on. It's a strange feeling of how you can really have had enough of gravel for the day, then when you get off it, for an hour, you're thinking of pushing on and doing more.

All the rooms were booked, but the company also keeps two rooms on standby, so the receptionist was going to give them a call to see if they needed the rooms, and he'd also call the town office about a tour for me, so I went into the restaurant for something to eat. I'd been craving chicked fried rice and spaghetti for a week or so now, and since I'd manged to get chicked fried rice the previous night, I went for the spaghetti. Neither of them were very good. I did get a result on the room though in that the company could free one up, but the tour was cancelled since the guide was ill. I decided to stay the night int he hope that the guide was ok the following morning.

This is a photograph of the town hanging on the wall in the restaurant. The flash of my camera doesn't help but it gives you an idea of the scale.

Later that evening I asked at reception if there was anything to do in or near the town. There isn't, apart from a few side roads where you can see the falls, but they are even worse than the main road so I declined.

The town does have one pub though, so I wandered off there. Another important thing to mention about this road is the blackflies. For those at home, think of big midges. On the road when I stop to refuel or for a rest they swarm around you, which can be annoying, so I left my helmet on for the most part. I did have a mesh hood thing I could put on but didn't feel the need. Except in Churchill Falls. But I left it behind when I went to the pub. I was moving fairly quickly, and it can't have been more than a mile, but I was swarmed with them. In my hair, mouth, nose, ears, just all over. Even when I made it into the pub I was still pulling them out my hair and squishing them.

The pub was quiet, maybe half a dozen folk when i enetered. Most using the gambling machines they have, where you feed in notes, and get a receipt for your winnings which pays out at the bar. The gamblers were doing so well that evening that the manager or owner had to come down with more cash after the till was running dry.

There was a new barmaid, so the few drinking were teasing her and teaching her how to make some cocktails. I only stayed for a few then braved the flies again heading back to the hotel for an early night. 

A fall and a bear

 The next leg from Port Hope Simpson to Happy Valley/Goose Bay is the long one. It's 260 miles, or as I recorded it 414.5km between the petrol stations. To get there I had to load up heavy with fuel, so the pic to the left shows my bike doing it's impersonation of a fuel tanker. The hot water bottle looking bag tied to the bars is fuel of about 10 litres of petrol. There's another bag of fuel with 8 or so litres in the black rucksack tied onto the yellow roll bag. In the end I made it comfortably, but it's a nervy time carrying fuel like that, particularly in your lap and I was glad the RCMP didn't see me.

This pic on the right was taken just after Cartwright junction and shows my planned stops for the next three nights. You get an idea of the road surface here as well. The verge can be very soft and you sink right into it, and the stones at the edge sometimes cover the whole road, so it's like riding on marbles.

As soon as you can it's best to refuel the main tank from the bags, as apart from the obvious less chance of things catching fire, it keeps the weight lower down. During one of these stops when the bike was parked as you see in the photo I was getting the fuel nozzle out of the pannier on the right, when I pulled up on the buckle and the bike just fell onto it's side in a slow motion sort of way that Del Boy would have been proud of. On adventure types bikes, as well as the knobbly tyres, bouncy suspension and larger fuel tanks, you also get pegs and levers that fold or are protected. I have none of that on this bike, so I had two or three seconds where I was just stunned. I'd seen the mirror fold in, so I knew that wasn't broken, but if the gearchange lever has snapped, then I'd need to ship the bike for repair or back to Ottawa.

First I had to lift it back up, and if I thought it was heavy in a turn with the engine off, it's much heavier when on the ground. Wet weight is 236 kilos, with fuel and luggage it's probably around 265, so 580 or so pounds. Picking up a bike was one of the things covered in my training years ago, and I've had some practice with my own bikes at home, so I managed it, but it was hard work. Once upright I could inspect the damage, and to my relief all that was wrong was a bent clutch lever, even the indicators were ok. I can still use the clutch, but the lever will need to be replaced.

Once I'd fulled up I continued on into Happy Valley. It was a long hard day and when in town I found a Burger King, so in I go looking for ice cream. They had none. Not that they had sold out, they just didn't seem to sell it. Outrageous.

I stayed in Happy Valley that night, which is the traditional town part, but there was more life in Goose Bay, which is the adjoining town, that's built up around the airbase used by 5 Wing. You can drive right onto the base, and I did by accident while roaming around, but I didn't see any planes.

In the hotel I asked the receptionist about the dump as you can see bears there. She told me where it was, and just to be sure I pointed to the road on the map and she nodded, so off I set. She was right about where the dump was, but wrong about how the map related to her narrative, so I was sent off the wrong way on the right road. After five miles of really bad gravel the road turned to sand so I stopped just as a couple of guys appeared on a four wheel drive buggy. Best I can describe it is as a beefed up golf cart looking thing. They sent me back the other way down that horrible road, which feels far less pleasant when you're just wearing a shirt and no gloves.

I'd rode up to the dump, got off, took off my helmet, went into the pannier and took out my camera, and only then realised there was a bear behind me. This is a North American Black Bear. They can run at 25-30mph, they swim for fun, they climb trees and are dexterous enough to open a latched door and open a jar.

I've done a similar thing when I went looking for kangaroos in Western Australia, and noticed them right beside me, but they don't have teeth and claws, nor do they eat people.

To give you an idea of how close it was, here's a pulled back shot with the bike in frame, and the bear to the right of the sign on the little ridge.

It's a small bear to be sure, but you suddenly realise that you are the on foot surrounded by trees, any one of which could be hiding more bears, or just one large hungry one.

There was a four wheel drive there and a pickup, fortunately neither were playing country music, but I was the only idiot on foot. You can't really tell from the picture, but it's getting dark at this point, so when the bear wandered back into the woods behind it, I decided to be sensible and head off too, rather than wait around for more.

Port Hope Simpson

 The weather had changed again the next morning, back to a gorgeous sunny day. The ferry booking office opened at 8am so I was out in the queue by about ten to. As I hadn't booked in advance I went onto the waiting list again. It's normally ok and they'll squeeze a bike on, but it can be a nervous wait.

In the end it was fine and they even manged to squeeze on another truck and two more cars after I'd gotten on. One of the crewmembers tied my bike down for me. He'd had a 1983 Magna but sold it recently and had regretted it ever since. He'd even tried to buy it back from the guy that he'd sold it to, but he wouldn't do it.

 The entryway is very narrow, but most of the truck drivers were really good at slipping inside. One guy leaving the ferry went a bit nuts though, shouting at the guy who was guiding him.

As I was one of the last on I missed the mad scramble for the comfy seats that always takes place on a ferry. It can be quite funny to watch ordinarily nice people get very territorial.

The cafe was quite expensive but the chicken soup was nice.

The weather then changed again and began to look quite ominous as we approached the shore. The terminal is actually in Quebec, but there are no roads leading to the rest of the province so you need to turn right and head into Labrador.

Fortunately it was just mist with no rain, so it was a quick run up the 81km of pavement to Red Bay, where I fueled up before the gravel began. It will now be around 140km to Port Hope Simpson, all on gravel road, and apparently this is one of the worst sections, so if I can manage this the rest should be ok.

 As ever I hadn't booked ahead, so I was heading for the hotel in town and hoping they had a room. Ideally I would phone in advance but I have no reception on my phone and payphones seem few and far between.

The gravel road was a challenge, lots of potholes, ruts, and tracks which will tramline you. What you need to do and what I found very hard was to relax into it and don't fight the bike. You're guiding more than actually steering.

 The roads in town were worse, I guess they don't get the same maintenance as the highway, but you still see cars on them. As I was looking for the hotel I found these three bikes parked outside a restaurant so i went in for something to eat. The three guys had come up from Cape Cod, though one was originally from Dublin. They had two GS's and a Tiger, but even they they'd had problems with for seals. We swapped information on the road ahead as we were going in opposite directions, indeed I haven't seen another bike going the same way as me, all are doing the route clockwise.

The statue above appears on the tourist brochures and maps in Newfoundland and Labrador. It's been photoshopped in to a mountain scene, but the locals have taken it to heart and you see these stone figures all over the province.

The restaurant also had a bakery attached, and across the road a B&B, so I asked if they had any rooms available. They had one left so it was an easy choice and an early night for me. I never did find the hotel, even when wandering around later.