Horizons Unlimited - The HUBB

Horizons Unlimited - The HUBB (https://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hubb/)
-   Ride Tales (https://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hubb/ride-tales/)
-   -   not all those who wander are lost | two earthlings ride around the world (https://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hubb/ride-tales/not-all-those-who-wander-59022)

martin1951 13 Jul 2013 10:25

... again
 
Cynthia suggests that email works: martinflewwelling@nb.aibn.com or my cell # for a text is 506 651-8688.

M

Rockwell 28 Jul 2013 20:04

Thanks Martin! We must have just missed you in Saint John. I haven't logged on here in a while, so I just saw your message here now (it's currently July 28th, and we're now in Vermont).

We're both glad to have met you guys. A very strange coincidence that we stayed with your niece, Adrienne, in Halifax the week before we met you guys!

Hope to meet up with you guys some day in the future. You two should really plan a motorcycle trip throughout Europe. :D

Rockwell 28 Jul 2013 20:05

Trip Expenses & Statistics
 
August 20, 2011 - January 7, 2012

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg

Budgeting
In order to travel the distance and for the amount of time we had planned, it was important to maintain a strict budget. Food, lodging, parts and repair expenses, along with fuel costs and efficiency were monitored and recorded. The expense data on this page represents all expenses up to the point where we got into the accident. After the accident, an additional CA$1,250 was spent on a flight home, CA$1,310 was the cost to ship the motorcycle from San Salvador by sea, and CA$150 was spent on a hotel on our last night in El Salvador. These expenses were not added to the total cost shown below since these costs do not represent normal travel expenses.



Lodging

Of all our expenses, the least was spent on lodging. Paula and I did as much stealth camping as we could. Neither of us could justify spending $30 at a campsite to sleep outside. Near the end of the day just before dusk, we would begin to look for a suitable and discrete place to set up camp. This turned out to be one of the highlights of our trip. We found some strange, interesting and often breathtaking places to pitch the tent. We camped next to lakes and rivers, at the side of the highway, in public parks, in parking lots.

After several days without a shower, and when we needed some time to rest and recover, Paula and I contacted couch-surfers. Couchsurfing.org is a social network for travellers and like-minded people who are willing to open up their homes for people who are on the road. A host offers a spare bed, a couch or even a floor to sleep on. The website and hosting is completely free of any charge and is based on reciprocity, and the goal of making travel more easy, affordable, and accessible, while encouraging lasting personal connections with people from all walks of life all over the world. Though the benefit of free accommodation is appealing, neither Paula nor I could imagine the trip without the couch-surfing experience that resulted in the life-long friends that we made through it.

When we weren't couch-surfing or camping, there were a few times that Paula and I were taken in by complete strangers. Stranded by the rain in Durango, Colorado all day, we were offered a place to stay by the manager of a Subway sandwich shop. While in Page, Arizona, a stranger at a McDonald's, who was waiting for his girlfriend to get off work, offered us a place to set up our tent where they were staying.

Food

We kept food costs low by often (too often, according to Paula) eating at Subway sandwich shops. We usually opted for a $5 foot-long, which we both split, and glasses of water. At two dollars and fifty cents per person, it was an extremely inexpensive and relatively healthful meal. We often frequented Subway for their $3 breakfasts as well. As much as we ate at Subway, Paula can no longer stomach even the smell of passing by a store.

Groceries stores were a good option as well. Limited in space and not having any sort of cooler, we weren't able to carry a lot of food. We did often stock up on nuts, dried fruit, trail mixes and beef jerky. Apples and bananas were also an inexpensive and nutritious snack. We also carried an MSR stove and camp fuel with us, but only used it once to heat up some pork and beans and a can of Spaghetti-Os.

When staying with family, friends and couch-surfing hosts, meals were usually provided. If we stayed more than a few days with anyone, Paula and I would like to buy a load of groceries and cook for everyone.


Fuel Prices & Efficiency


When it came to fuel prices, for the most part, we were pretty much at the mercy of the greedy and corrupt oil companies. There is the idea that the earth's natural resources should benefit all people, instead of mainly benefiting a relatively small number of large, multi-national corporations who, in the quest to maximize profits, destroy the environment, engage in price-fixing, lobby against renewable sources of energy, and influence governments who create wars, under the veil of spreading freedom and democracy, in order to secure access to oil resources.

Despite being relatively oil-rich, we, in Canada, pay much higher fuel prices than in The United States. Canadians always find it funny when we hear Americans complaining about the price of gas. I'm sure Europeans feel the same way about all North Americans.


During the entire trip, we filled the motorcycle with a minimum of 91 octane. The highest price for fuel was CA$1.77 per liter (US$6.82 per gallon) between Banff and Jasper, Alberta, Canada. I expected higher than average fuel prices in this area due to its relatively remote location. At CA$0.78 per liter (US$2.82 per gallon), the cheapest fuel prices were in Chiapas, Mexico. Over the course of the entire trip through Canada, The United States, Mexico, Belize, Guatemala and El Salvador, the average price of fuel was CA$1.10 per liter (US$4.14 per gallon).

Fuel efficiency was monitored by noting the distance travelled between fill-ups, when the fuel light came on, and how much fuel was added since the last fill-up. This would result in a number for fuel efficiency that could be extrapolated using the tank capacity in order to determine the tank range. These numbers varied significantly depending on what type of riding was being done (highway, city, off-road, etc.).

An excerpt from the spreadsheet created to record, calculate and monitor fuel efficiency and costs:



Expense Distribution


Rockwell 7 Aug 2013 12:00

Coming Back To Life
 
Completion in November of 2012

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg

Shipping The Bike Back To Canada

Before leaving the shipping agency in El Salvador, we were told that the motorcycle would ship within a week and that, after it had, it would take around thirty days to reach port in Canada. Almost two weeks after arriving back in Canada, I had heard nothing from the shipping agency. I emailed several times and got little response other than they were working on things. Becoming increasingly frustrated and concerned about the return of my motorcycle, Paula and I decided to contact the Salvadorian Embassy in Toronto. We visited the embassy in Toronto and placed a call to the owner of the shipping company. Unbeknownst to him, someone from the embassy was in the room and listening to the entire conversation over speaker. The owner of the shipping company seemed quite surprised when the embassy employee introduced himself. This conversation seemed to help clear things up and get the process moving. The shipment of the motorcycle took far longer than we were told it would, and we were charged by the shipping company for things that we shouldn't have been charged for. Nevertheless, I was glad to see the return of my motorcycle when it did finally arrive back in Canada.

The details of the shipment are as follows:

Motorcycle left at shipping company: January 13, 2011
Shipping time, according to agency: 1 week to ship, 30 days in transit (37 days)
Quoted price: approx. US$975, based on weight, dimensions, and other standard fees

Date motorcycle arrived in Canada: April 27, 2011
Actual shipping time: 3 months and 14 days (104 days)
Actual cost: US$1,288.10
Method of transportation: El Salvador to New York via cargo ship, New York to Toronto via transport truck


The following needed to be paid prior to pick up of the motorcycle in Toronto:

Terminal fee: $65.00
Dock Fee: $40.00


Ordering Parts

It took close to four months for the motorcycle to arrive back in Canada. After finally receiving the bike, I was able to start ordering replacement parts. The main item required for the rebuild was the frame. The original had been completely torn apart at the steering column from the impact during the accident. A possible option would have been to have the frame welded together, but I decided that I would prefer a brand new frame due to the level of damage to the original one.

The front wheel was also badly damaged, and, though not visibly obvious, I was told that there would be damage to the front forks. I ordered a new wheel, front body kit, steering column rod and bearings, and was able to get some used fork from a guy in Austria (thanks Lukas!) who does front-end conversions.

I was offered some shop space by Les, the owner of my local dual sport motorcycle shop, Dual Sport Plus, so that I could work on the motorcycle and have access to their mechanics if I had any questions. After picking the motorcycle up at a shipping warehouse in Toronto, we dropped it off at the shop and I began to disassemble the motorcycle the following week.

Having had a really difficult time seeing the motorcycle returned, I was now dealing with difficulty ordering the new frame. I placed an order with an online dealer who had the frame on sale for US$750. I thought immediately that the price was too good to be true, but the order was proceeding. I was contacted by this vendor and was told that I would need to cut the VIN from my existing frame and send it in before a new frame could be ordered. This was a requirement from KTM, who would ship a new frame out with the existing VIN only when the old VIN had been received. I agreed and was given shipping details for where to send the piece of the frame with the VIN, and was told that they would proceed with the ordering of the new frame. A day later I was contacted again by the dealer. This time the call was to tell me that the part number for the frame I had ordered had been superseded by a different part number, and that he was only able to get that part for US$1,500 - double the price of the one I had originally ordered! I was asked if I wanted to go ahead with the order or cancel. I opted to cancel and look for a better price.

After a bit of searching online, I found the frame, with the original part number, from another online dealer for roughly US$975. I placed the order for the frame and the order began to be processed. Having previously been told that KTM required the VIN, cut from the original frame, before they could proceed with shipment of a new one, I specifically asked about this when purchasing from this dealer in order to confirm this detail. I was told that this was absolutely NOT a requirement. The following email transcript illustrates the headaches that were experienced in ensuring the shipment of the new frame:


On Fri, Jun 1, 2012 at 11:39 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

I was able to successfully complete the ordering process.

Can you please provide an update for this order: Google Order #224055459555985

Thank you.



On Fri, Jun 1, 2012 at 3:08 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Yes, it looks like your order has been processed yesterday, and should ship out next week. We will send you a tracking number as soon as your order ships.

Thanks,
Adam



On Fri, Jun 1, 2012 at 12:11 PM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Before shipment, can I confirm that this is a new OEM frame? I assumed that it was since the description didn't specify.



On Fri, Jun 1, 2012 at 3:19 PM, Customer Service wrote:

This is 100% brand new directly from KTM.

Thanks,
Adam



On Mon, Jun 4, 2012 at 10:08 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Can your provide a mailing address just in case the VIN from my original frame needs to be shipped before a new frame can be issued? I would like to have this ready since almost every other vendor has told me that it is a KTM requirement to receive the VIN cut from the original frame before a new frame can be issued.

Here is my original VIN in just in case it is required to keep the process moving: (VIN)

Thanks.



On Mon, Jun 4, 2012 at 2:03 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Our mailing address is: (mailing address)

Also shown here: (website help page link)

I am really not sure who has been telling you to cut out a VIN number - that just cannot be true. Please don't listen to them. You cannot be expected to cut out a VIN from the old frame as that would not even be legal. We deal directly with KTM, and there is no such requirement. Usually with frames the manufacturer may want the paperwork (pink slip, registration, etc) and they wouldn't let us even order without that. In this case they did not want anything except make and model. Again, I have never heard of any manufacturer asking to cut up your old frame.

Thanks,
Adam



On Thu, Jun 7, 2012 at 7:51 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Thanks for all your help Adam.

A few more requests/questions:
• Can you provide me with the new VIN of the new frame that will be shipping once that becomes available?
• Can you add a shipping note to "Hold for pick-up."
• Is there any new information as to when this will ship?

Thanks again for all your help.



On Thu, Jun 7, 2012 at 10:08 PM, Customer Service:

Rocky, we are still waiting to receive this frame from KTM. We will have any information from the frame once its in our warehouse. I can contact you once the frame is here and get you all the info. I will get an update on when it should arrive tomorrow (it should be in the next few days - unfortunately KTM is one of the slower manufacturers we deal with)

Thanks,
Adam



On Fri, Jun 8, 2012 at 3:47 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Rocky, per KTM your frame should be getting to our warehouse early next week - most likely Tuesday.

Thanks,
Adam



On Wed, Jun 13, 2012 at 12:04 PM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Any word on the frame yet, Adam?



On Wed, Jun 20, 2012 at 2:51 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Rocky, we were trying to find out what the hold up with KTM is, and it turns out you were absolutely correct. They now want the get the vin number physically cut out from the frame. I have asked KTM several times when the frame was ordered and was assured this is NOT the case, but when it came time to deliver, they changed the story. Honestly I have never heard of any manufacturer asking a customer to chop up their frame. Most manufacturers simply want the old VIN number and sometimes copy of the registration and driver license / ID.

So once again, I do apologize, but we would need the VIN number physically cut out from the old frame in order to ship this frame. If you cannot do that, let me know and I can cancel this order.

Thanks,
Adam



On Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 9:46 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Adam,

I cut the VIN from the frame last week. I still do not have a shipping address in order to ship it directly to KTM. Please provide me with the shipping address so that I can ship the VIN directly to KTM USA.

I know that it can be difficult dealing with KTM. If you provide me with contact information (name and telephone number) for your KTM sales rep., I can see if I can get this process moving. I have already lost 4 weeks of build time. I disassembled my motorcycle in shop space that is only being rented until the end of this month. I am now left to deal with transferring a completely disassembled motorcycle to a new location to finish the rebuild.



On Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 1:36 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Rocky, I was sure someone has gotten back to you on this, I apologize.

You cannot send this VIN KTM directly. It has to be sent to us and we have to forward it to KTM Austria. We have tried to get KTM to accept the VIN directly from you (the customer) but they will not do that. We need to get it to us first and then it will go to KTM. We are the sales rep and are affiliated with a local KTM dealership, so the same day we receive your VIN, will be the same day it will go out to KTM Austria.

Our address is: (address)

Please write your order number "44192" on the package.

I know these are some crazy rules KTM has, but there is no way around it. We sell frames for Honda, Polaris, Kawasaki and other brands of bikes and ATVs and never have we ran into a situation like this. Lets hope we can resolve this quickly and get the frame out to you ASAP.

Thanks,
Adam



On Thu, Jul 5, 2012 at 9:37 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

I sent you the VIN last week. It should be arriving any day now if it hasn't already. I wrote the order number on the package and made the it out to your attention.

Please let me know when you receive the package. I will send the tracking number later today if you need it.




On Thu, Jul 5, 2012 at 1:14 PM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Tracking number is: CX 468 493 962 CA

According to Canada post, my VIN has been successfully delivered as of July 02.

Please confirm that you have received the VIN and have sent it to KTM.

Thanks.



On Thu, Jul 5, 2012 at 4:16 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Yes, it shows as delivered. This week we have a holiday, so we should be able to take care of it today.

Thanks,
Adam



On Thu, Jul 19, 2012 at 11:54 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Are there any updates or tracking information for the frame yet?



On Mon, Jul 19, 2012 at 4:25 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Rocky, the VIN / neck has been sent to KTM, and as of yesterday, we were told by KTM, that worst case ETA would be 2 weeks most likely sooner (it sounds like the frame is coming from Austria).

I really feel bad that this is taking so long, but unfortunately this is KTM and this is how it works with them. KTM is probably the manufacturer that gives us the most headache with many of our orders with them.


Thanks,
Adam



On Thu, Aug 1, 2012 at 11:59 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

It's been almost two weeks. Do you have any more updates on where the frame is? Is there any sort of tracking or concrete way of knowing its location?



On Mon, Aug 1, 2012 at 4:01 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Hi, the frame should be here (our warehouse) today. We will need to arrange for freight shipping to you so it will probably be going out via Fedex Freight or UPS Freight tomorrow. I will send you a tracking number as soon as it ships.

Thanks,
Adam



On Mon, Aug 2, 2012 at 11:33 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Hello Justin Vachon,

Great news! (Dealer) has shipped part of your order. It should arrive soon.

Track FedEx package #726810215013242

Order date: May 30, 2012 1:30 PM EDT
Google order number: 224055459555985
KTM OEM Part - FRAME "FD07" 990 ADVENTURE 07 (6010300110033): $976.79
FedEx: #726810215013242
Additional Shipping of oversized item: $78.05
Shipping & Handling (Ground Shipping): $20.90
Tax (NY): $0.00
Total: $1,075.74


The frame was finally delivered on August 9th, two months and 10 days (71 days) after placing the order. Paula and I knew that there was no time to complete the rebuild and prepare to head out again on the trip that summer. We set a goal to work through the winter and prepare to leave the following spring.


The Rebuild

Three years earlier when I first bought my motorcycle, I was extremely intimidated by it, having never done any real mechanical work before. I remember taking the front fairings off for some reason and being really nervous and uncertain about whether or not the bike would start up again after reinstalling them. Over the next few years, I did more work and continued to familiarize myself with my motorcycle. I was given a lesson on how to perform an oil change, which involves the removal of the left side fuel tank. Using step-by-step tutorials form the internet, I performed a valve clearance check and rebuilt my water pump. During the trip, I met my motorcycle guru, John, who showed me how to change a tire. I performed another valve clearance check in Arizona, and changed a few tires along the way. While in Mexico, I changed out my sprockets and chain for new ones.

This rebuild was going to be a lot more involved than anything I had done before. It required the complete disassembly of the motorcycle in order to move all of its parts from the old, damaged frame to the new one. I approached the rebuild with the idea that, if someone else could do it, there is no reason why I couldn't. I try to approach most things with this mindset. Understanding that it wouldn't be easy, I knew that what would be required was the right level of effort, thoroughness and focus.

I began by slowly disassembling the motorcycle, piece by piece, while taking photos of everything and carefully placing every nut and bolt in a labelled baggie. I drew diagrams showing the general routing of cables, wires and hoses and their locations relative to other parts on the motorcycle. Being very thorough, it took several days to disassemble the motorcycle to the point where the only thing left on the old frame was the engine and swing-arm.

Les was only temporarily renting the space he had offered, and, since the new frame was taking longer than expected to arrive, I decided to take the pieces of the motorcycle and store them in my mother's garage until I was able to start the rebuild.

After many headaches and a lot of waiting, the new frame finally arrived in August. It had been almost seven months since returning to Canada. It was far too late to complete the rebuild and prepare to head out on the trip by the end of summer, so Paula and I decided that we'd have to get our own apartment and wait until the following year to begin our trip again.

We moved into our apartment at the end of June, and it wasn't until the end of October that I got up the motivation to tackle the rebuild. I transferred all of the parts of the motorcycle from my mother's garage to the garage where we were living. My landlord, Peter, helped me remove the engine from the old frame and place it in the new one. I began assembling the rest of the motorcycle using an ordered list that I had made during disassembly as a guide, starting at the bottom and working toward the top. Slowly, piece by piece, the bike began to take shape. I removed the SAS (secondary air system) equipment and placed engine block-off plates over the openings in the cylinders left bare from the removal. When I finally had all of the pieces mounted and all of the nuts and bolts accounted for, I placed a charger on the battery, filled the bike with its necessary fluids, and prepared to start it up. The removal of the SAS equipment causes an error that prevents that starting of the motorcycle, so I purchased a communication cable and connected my laptop to the bike's ECU (computer) and disabled the SAS equipment check, effectively disabling the error that prevented starting. It was ready to be started up. I was a bit nervous. After several laboured attempts to start, the bike fired up. She sounded beautiful.

The rebuild, other than a few snags, went smoothly and took place over the course of three or four weekends. Going through the process of rebuilding the motorcycle allowed me to become intimately familiar with the bike, and it made the work I had previously done on the bike seem much easier. It also gave me the knowledge and confidence to be able to tackle almost any repair necessary in the future. When the day comes that I do a compete engine rebuild, I'll almost be able to call myself a real mechanic.


The Accident
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

All of the nuts and bolts from the bike were meticulously labeled and placed into sealable baggies. Many photos were taken in various states of disassembly, and diagrams noting relative locations of parts and the routing of hoses, wires and cables.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

With some help from my landlord, Peter, the engine was lifted from the original frame.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

The old frame and the new one
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

The engine, swing-arm and rear mono-shock were the first parts placed onto the new frame.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Other than the pesky foot-peg springs, the wire and cable routing was the most challenging part of the rebuilt, as was expected.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Piece by piece, the skeleton of a bike started to look like a real, live motorcycle.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Back from the pits of despair, Almeida came back to life. Here she stands (leans) in all her glory.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Rockwell 8 Aug 2013 11:30

Preparing To Leave
 
Autumn of 2012 - June 9, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It took over four months for the motorcycle to arrive. That ruined any plans to leave that summer. Rocky was eager to start the repairs and fortunately we were offered a place to fix the bike at Dual Sport Plus. It's a local motorcycle shop owned by Les. Him and his staff were extremely helpful. Rocky assessed the damage and began ordering parts. I am amazed that he was able to completely take the bike apart and put her back together. He even got her running better than before. As soon as the bike was completed, we were able to place much more focus on preparing to leave. My first step was to get back on the motorcycle. I hadn't been on the bike since the accident and I felt nervous. It wasn't so bad. I was surprisingly comfortable and I was able to thoroughly enjoy the ride.

After a lot of organizing we were finally able to start packing. One would think it would be easier the second time around. But, now that I know what to expect, I caught myself over packing. It is difficult to travel with the bare minimum. Traveling through different climates definitely doesn't help. If I had forgotten anything, I could always pick it up along the way. I'll just have a heck of a time finding room for it though. Maybe I could find room for just one pair of my favorite high heels!

I definitely went through some mixed emotions. I felt excited, nervous, sad, happy. A shrink would have fun diagnosing my current state. My poor mom was in denial. She refused to acknowledge we were leaving. My brother was having dreams that I had changed my mind. I just wish that my cats could've spoke just once to tell me that they forgive me and they'll be waiting for our safe return. I have been so fortunate to have so many amazing people in my life but it makes it so much tougher to leave their side.

We will miss everyone. I am sure that I will cry and so will Rocky. Only he will pretend that a bug got in his eye.


http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg

Shortly after moving into our apartment, our landlords, Peter & Haarika, had a baby boy named Kushal.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Nikita, Haarika's daughter, & her baby brother, Kushal
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula and I drove to Toronto to see Romi Mayes (pictured here) and Jay Nowicki. We first met both of them while couch-surfing in Medicine, Hat Alberta. Romi was awarded Song Writer of the Year and Album of the Year at the 2007 Western Canadian Music Awards. "Mayes' style has been described as edgy, bourbon-infused country blues and bluegrass, characterized by sympathy and honesty." -- Wikipedia
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Romi & Jay rocking out the Dakota Tavern, in Toronto, Ontario.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula, Giovanni & Grace dressed up for Hallowe'en
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula dressed up for Hallowe'en as a belly dancer, only to be told several times that she was actually Jasmine from the Disney animated movie, Aladdin.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Princess Jasmine
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula & her friend, Grace - Grace is a paralegal and one of the most well-read and knowledgable people I know. She also like to talk a LOT.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula and I spent New Years eve at Hess Village, in downtown Hamilton.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

New Year's Eve
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Happy New Year!
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula on New Year's Eve
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula & I on New Year's Eve
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Belle
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

My grandmother lived to the ripe, old age of 94. She was only a few months away from her 95th birthday when she passed away in 2009. I use to visit her on weekends and she always baked me delicious pies - apple, peach, berry, custard... After the new year, I decided to take up baking. This triple-berry pie was my second attempt. It was delicious (if I do say so myself).
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

On March 15th, my niece, Maddy, turned four years old.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

During the almost year and a half back home, I was able to see my favourite band, Sigur Rós, twice. - photo by Balzz
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...gur_e990wm.jpg

Paula's niece, Josephine, turned five years old in April. Paula's sister and brother-in-law, Maryline and Dennis, have four children in total.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula's niece, Madison, is one of twins.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Sophia is the other half of the set of twins.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

In April, Paula's friend, Catherine, had a baby girl named Avielle.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Paula's mother, Lucilia, hibernates in winter, but, at the first sign of spring, she is out all day working in her garden. She has one of the best gardens I have ever seen, full of plants, flowers, herbs and vegetables. She also makes amazing chicken wings.http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Rockwell 14 Aug 2013 18:22

On The Road Again
 
June 9, 2013 - June 16, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We left a week and a day late but it was nice to have a little extra time with everyone. We had everything packed at Rocky's moms house but we spent the night at my moms. I tried to cuddle my cats as much as possible before leaving the next morning. Saying goodbye was obviously tough, I cried. My mom wasn't about to make it easier on us. She tried a few guilt trips, hoping I would change my mind, but her and I giggled at the attempt. My brother, Mike, drove us around the corner to Rocky's mothers house. Rocky's brother Jay was there with his wife Andrea and their daughter Mady. My best friend Greg showed up with his girlfriend Eden, and our friend Peter, who lives next door to Diana (Rocky's mom) was also there with his two children. I cried, again. We left there and headed towards my sister, Maryline's house. Her husband Dennis and their four children, Lucas, Josephine, Madison and Sofia were all there. I was glad that my tear ducts were completely drained, otherwise I would have bawled. I'm going to miss everybody.


Our next destination was Tobermory, Ontario, a really cute town with an unspoiled countryside. It is known for its relaxed pace of life and fresh water scuba diving. There are numerous shipwrecks that lie in the surrounding waters, but we stayed on land. After splitting an order of delicious, fresh White fish and chips and clam chowder soup, Rocky and I rode around in search of a place to camp. We found the perfect spot by the water, next to a historic lighthouse. Just before we began unloading the bike, we met a guy named Ivan. He mentioned that he was also from Hamilton, Ontario. He lives in Tobermory with his girlfriend and pet dog and works as an engineer on the Chi-Cheemaun ferry.


We woke up early the next morning but it was a bit chilly and I didn't want to get out of the sleeping bag. Rocky warned me to get up because it would rain, I should've listened. We got a bit wet packing up the gear and loading up the bike. We were going to take the Chi-Cheemaun ferry. It traverses Lake Huron from Tobermory to Manitoulin Island. $51.50 was a bit expensive but it was an hour and a half journey and I'm not a good swimmer. While waiting to dock, we met a young man named Marty, who was from Austrailia and also touring on a motorcycle. He flew to British Columbia and took a train to Toronto, where he bought a Kawasaki. He is also heading to Eastern Canada and I wonder if we'll bump into him again along the way. Ivan, the engineer on the ferry, found us and offered us a tour. I don't know much about boats but I found it really interesting to look at. He took us through the engine room, all the control rooms, along with the bridge, where the captain was. I felt like I was on a really awesome school trip.


As soon as we reached Manitoulin Island, it was raining pretty hard. We rode at least 5km up the rode and stopped at a Home Hardware store for refuge. We were soaked. The rain didn't seem like it was about to stop, so we decided to ride a couple of kilometers up to a restaurant. We found a great little place called Musky Widows where we met Matthew, the owner. After a hot meal and a few cups of coffee, it was still pouring rain outside. Matthew mentioned an abandoned barn a few minutes away and said he would take us there if we were interested. We were excited to sleep under a shelter.


We peeked into the barn where we were prepared to stay until Matthew mentioned the Hanger a few meters away. We chose the Hanger instead. It was easier to unpack all of our things and bring the motorcycle inside. We kept the large doors open to watch the storm. Our belongings didn't dry well because of the moisture in the air but at least they didn't get any worse. It ended up raining all night. Although I enjoyed sleeping there, I have to admit I was a bit scared. Raindrops and every other small sound echoed loudly. It got a little bit scary in the complete darkness.

We took our time getting out if bed in the morning. Once we packed, we took a ride back to Musky Widows for breakfast. We left the small town of Manitowaning and headed towards Sudbury, Ontario. It was getting late and we almost settled for a place to camp. I'm glad we kept searching because we found the most perfect location. Ramsey Lake is extremely pretty and surprisingly quiet. We walked across large rocks were we found a patch of grass just big enough to fit our tent. It was simply a perfect place to be.


Our plan was to go visit Rocky's dad. He recently moved to Cobalt, Ontario. The ride was only a couple of hours from Sudbury, Ontario, and it rained on us the last hour. At least this times we were prepared. We pulled over to put on our rain liners just before the rain came down. Cobalt is a small town with a population of 1500. Known as Silver City, it is the Silver Capital of Canada. The only other thing that could be said for Cobalt, Ontario is, it had delicious tap water. Conrad, Rocky's dad, is in his 70's and looking for love, ladies. He is a really nice guy with a funny vocabulary. He uses words like gee willikers, gosh golly and darn tootin. When he addresses me, he either calls me Sis or Salami. He is hilarious. Even when he is sleeping, he is funny. We've caught him talking in his sleep. He has full conversations.

We were there a few nights and decided not to leave until Fathers Day. It was tough saying goodbye but we got everything prepared for Conrad to get his passport. Since he is a French Canadian we assume France would be an easy sell. We would love for him to visit us in France.


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After a year and a half of being back home, working, saving and rebuilding the motorcycle, we set back out on the road. We left Hamilton on June 9th and headed north.
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Our second day on the road, we crossed over to Manitoulin Island on the ferry from Tobermory. The crossing took about two hours and cost $50 for the motorcycle and two riders.
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While waiting for the ferry, we met Marty. Marty is from Australia and purchased a motorcycle in Toronto to ride across Canada.
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The night before taking the ferry, we met Ivan. Ivan mentioned that he was the lead engineer on the ferry to Manitoulin Island, called the MS Chi-Cheemaun. He told us to find him onboard and he'd take us on a tour around the vessel.
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Shortly after arriving on Manitoulin Island, a torrential downpour also arrived. Paula and I found a restaurant in a nearby town to hang out and dry out our soaked gear. Matthew, the owner of the restaurant, called Musky Widows, offered to take us to an abandoned farm where we could spend the night out of the rain.
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The farm had an old barn and a hanger, where we decided to set up our tent.
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The rain poured down throughout the entire night, pinging the metal of the hanger roof until morning.
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Morning came and the sun finally broke through the clouds as the sky cleared up.
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We spent the next night in Sudbury, Ontario. One of the best parts of traveling the way we do is trying to find a spot to camp for the night. With the sun going down, we found this perfect little spot on the edge of Ramsey Lake.
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Ramsey Lake
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Our next stop was Colbalt, Ontario, where my father had recently moved after separating from his wife.
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The last time I had seen my father was almost two years prior, during the first part of our trip. He had aged noticeably since, but hadn't lost is lively spirit, despite battling bouts of depression over the break-up of his marriage.
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We met "King Ross" at a Tim Horton coffee shop in the nearby town of New Liskeard. I don't know whether he was the craziest or one of the most intelligent people I have met, but he certainly was entertaining and interesting to talk to.
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My father's diet consisted of beer and cigarettes (though he didn't inhale). He woke up one morning and got a beer from the fridge at seven in the morning. I mentioned that there was already a freshly-opened beer on the table. He thought it was mine, as though everyone had a beer first thing in the morning.
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After a four-day visit with my father, we left Colbalt and headed towards Montreal. While with my dad, we applied for a passport for him and made tentative plans to meet him somewhere in the world, maybe Paris, France.
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Rockwell 18 Aug 2013 16:26

Québec
 
June 17, 2013 - June 23, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg The sky was threatening to rain when we left Cobalt, but we only got spit on. We rode all day until we were ready to find a place to camp. Pembroke, Ontario had a good flat field next to a school and we decided to spend the night there. I tried to set up the tent quickly because I was getting attacked by mosquitos, but they were about to quickly disappear anyway. Just as the sky became black, lightning began brightening up the sky. Thunder followed, causing the earth to shake beneath us. It was very exciting to be in the tent as the storm traveled past us.

Early the next morning, we continued riding until we reached Baie-d'Urfe, Québec. We were going there to visit Alex, who we had previously met while traveling in Mexico and Guatemala. He had also stayed with us as he traveled through Hamilton. Alex just purchased a motorcycle and made plans with Rocky to join us on our trip through eastern Canada. I like to hope that we inspired him to travel by motorcycle but I think he decide to do so because he couldn't turn down a $400 motorcycle.

Baie-d'Urfe is a beautiful suburb of Montreal. Alex was currently living there with his father, Patrick. Patrick is a great guy and cook. He treated us to a delicious duck dinner our first night there. After a few bottles of wine, the conversation somehow turned to health insurance. I learned that, although we have health care in Canada (OHIP - Ontario Health Insurance Plan), we needed to request an extension (for a maximum of 2 years) if we were planning on being absent from the country for more than seven months. If we didn’t, our OHIP coverage would expire, and we would be denied medical treatment upon our return to Canada. The following day, we turned around and rode 45 minutes back into Ontario to apply for the extension. Before heading back to Alex's, we stopped in Montreal for a few last minute necessities. Montreal is a great city. We were unable to take advantage of the awesome nightlife or shopping but we were still able to peek at all the beautiful people. Montreal is known for its lovely looking ladies.


After spending a couple of nights in the suburb of Montreal, Alex, Rocky and I packed up and hit the road. As we followed Alex through the thick traffic in Montreal, I began questioning if he was ready for the road. Alex is a great guy and he's very smart, but he is in his early twenties and he just got his motorcycle license. We were trying to follow his lead but he was weaving in and out of lanes, squeezing through places we wouldn't be able to follow. I was glad when we were finally able to get out of the city.



We contacted couple, Katie and Raymond, on couchsurfing.org and planned on staying at their house for a couple of days. They live with their cute dog, Complain (which means companion in French), in a suburb called Sainte-Redempteur (Levis), on the south shore of Quebec. It was pretty late when we had arrived, so we didn't do much until the following day. Raymond is in the Military, Katie is a Veterinarian, and both of them were gone for the day. Alex, Rocky and I, decided to take a bus to Québec City for the day and Katie said that she would meet us out for drinks once her shift was over.


Québec City is one of the prettiest cities I've seen. It is full of culture and character. More than 90% of Québécois (the people of Québec) speak French as their first language. I was warned that many of them weren't pleasant towards English-speaking people, but I never did experience that. It is often said that the people in Québec are very arrogant and rude because they want to be separated from Canada because they are different. The central cultural argument of those who wish to separate is that only sovereignty can adequately ensure the survival of the French language in North America, allowing Québécois to establish their nationality, preserve their culture identity, and keep their collective memory alive. I personally love that Canada has its unique twist of cultures.

After spending the day exploring the streets of Québec City, we decided to meet up with Katie and a few of her friends. A large street party was happening and we were ready to have fun! Quebec city knows how to throw a good party and Katie and her friends know how to have a great time. I didn't drink too much but I'm glad I wasn't hung-over the next morning. We had a long day of driving as we got back on the road.

The ride from the city up along the coast of the St. Lawrence River was really beautiful. By the end of the day, we all imagined that sleeping by the coast would be ideal. As we rode around searching for a place to set up camp for the night, Alex followed behind. Rocky signaled to make a left hand turn, and just before we had fully crossed the street, Alex cut us off and almost crashed into us at a very high speed. I don't fully understand Alex's perspective of what had happened but I do know that it was a mistake he didn't make intentionally. It is just hard to ignore something that could've put an end to our trip, or even our lives.


We pitched our tents on the shore of the St. Lawrence River along the coastal Highway 132. It was a great place to gather our thoughts as we enjoyed the view. Early the next morning, we headed towards Gaspé, Québec. After a few incidents, we all realized the difficulty in riding together. Alex continued in his own direction without us. Rocky and I remained in Gaspé and found an abandoned house to set up camp in the backyard. I love camping but I've been getting eaten alive. Mosquitos bites annoy me but black flies are attacking me, biting me repeatedly, taking small chunks of my skin and leaving me bloody, bruised and intensely itchy. It is tough being delicious. ;)

Not far from where we slept was a small city near the tip of the Gaspé Peninsula, called Percé. We decided to stop there on our way to New Brunswick, Canada. Percé is mainly a tourist town particularly well known for the attractions of the Percé Rock, translated to English as the pierced rock. It is one of the world's largest natural arches located in water. Percé is known as one of the most beautiful villages of Québec. It was a perfect location to remind us of the beauty of Québec before leaving the province to visit New Brunswick for the first time!


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We arrived in Baie-d'Urfe, a suburb of Montreal, on June 17th where our friend, Alex, lives with his father, Patrick. We first met Alex while traveling in Mexico, and later randomly saw him hitchhiking at the side of the road in Guatemala. After arriving in Baie-d'Urfe, Patrick cooked us all a delicious duck dinner.
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The next day we were invited by Patrick, who is an avid sailor, to the local sailing club for dinner.
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Twinsies - Paula and I are often made fun of because, while traveling, we look the same since both wear blue jeans and the exact same hoodie. We don't mind so much since we wouldn't give up the best sweater either of us have ever worn. At $135 it's a bit pricey, but worth every penny. p.s. - MEC sponsorship is welcomed - call us.
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Alex's father, Patrick, is also a motorcycle rider. He is also a bit of a workaholic, but planned on meeting up with us for part of our trip through the eastern part of Canada.
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After several days at Alex's, Paula, Alex and I set out on the road. Our first destination was Québec City. A food that was popularized in Québec is Poutine - french fried potatoes topped with gravy and cheese curds.
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The three of us spent the day walking around beautiful Québec City, situated alongside the St. Lawrence River.
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Historic Québec City
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The three of us had planned on meeting Katie, our couch-surfing host, later that evening. The streets were being readied for a large street party that was taking place that evening, and we had planned on meeting up with Katie and a few of her friends.
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With some time to kill, Paula, Alex and I walked over to the park to relax and to take a nap in the warm sun.
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Alex & Paula In Quebec City
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In need of our daily coffee fix, we searched for a Tim Hortons coffee shop, but, unable to find one, we had to settle for Starbucks. Later that day, we stumbled across a Tim Hortons that didn't appear on my GPS. Tim Hortons quality has suffered a decline in recent years, but it was still our go-to coffee shop for its selection and price. The chain also originated in our home town of Hamilton, Ontario.
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Our couch-surfing host, Katie, was a veteranarian, and, after a long day of work, we met up with her at the street party. Earlier that day, Katie had performed surgery on a dog. There were complications during the surgery, and the animal didn't make it through. Already saddened by the turn of events, Katie had to deal with the devastated owner of the pet who blamed her for what had happened. We tried to cheer her up with a few beers.
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We met several of Katie's crazy friends.
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While at Alex's house in Baie-d'Urfe, Patrick introduced us to a type of honey wine. We liked it so much that we decided to stop along the way at the Vieux Moulin, located along highway 132 in Québec, where the wine is produced. Since we couldn't carry a lot on the bike, we only bought one bottle of wine, but would like to have stocked up on a lot of their delicious goods, which range from different kinds of wines to various types of honey, honey-filled chocolates and other honey-based products.
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Following the southern shore of the St. Lawrence river and up to The Gulf of The St. Lawrence, the ride along Québec's Route 132 was beautiful. It was spotted with small fishing villages, hills, mountains, cliffs and waterfalls. We were surprised not to have heard anything about it before.
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Alex Along Route 132
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The day before, while looking for a spot to camp, we were almost in an accident with Alex. We're not certain exactly what happened, but, for whatever reason, Alex didn't leave enough space while following to notice that we were making a left turn. We narrowly missed hitting each other at a high rate of speed. The stress of riding together got to both of us, and we both decided that it might be better if we split off on our own.
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Later that evening, Paula and I looked for a place to set up camp. We found an abandoned house in the town of Gaspé that seemed perfect. We waited until dusk and spent the night in the yard behind the house. We packed up in the morning, had some breakfast and headed on.
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Our next destination was the small, tourist town of Percé, Québec. Percé is known for the Percé Rock, one of the world's largest natural arches located in water.
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Paula at Percé
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I found a gravel road on my GPS that appeared to ascend the hill overlooking the town of Percé. We rode up a steep gravel road and found a lookout that gave a great view of Percé.
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After leaving Percé, Paula and I headed on towards New Brunswick. We had spent almost a week in the province of Québec, but could easily have spent much more time there.
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Rockwell 3 Sep 2013 12:35

The Maritimes
 
June 23, 2013 - July 5, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It became obvious when we had entered New Brunswick because most of the street signs were also written in English. Campbellton, New Brunswick is situated on the south bank of the Restigouche River opposite Pointe-a-la-Croix, Quebec. We found a perfect spot to camp, located on the top of a hill, overlooking both coasts. Eastern Canada has no shortage of great spots to camp.


I contacted a guy, named Ryan, on couchsurfing.org and he welcomed us to stay with him in a small suburb of Moncton, New Brunswick. The Petitcodic River separates Riverview, New Brunswick from Moncton. In the late 1960's, a controversial rock-and-earth fill causeway was build between Moncton and Riverview to prevent agricultural flooding and to carry a crossing between the two communities. Before the construction of this causeway, the river had one of the largest tidal bores, which ranged 1-2 meters in height and moved at 5-3 km per hour. Ryan's backyard had a beautiful view of this chocolate coloured river.

The day after arriving in Riverview, Rocky and I made a coffee run in the morning while Ryan was at work meetings. About 300 meters from us returning to the house, the motorcycle lost all power and Rocky had to push it the rest of the way. After spending some time problem solving through the electrical, Rocky noticed that the exhaust had melted some wires. We were lucky to have been such a short distance away with a nice large garage to do the repairs.

Ryan is a charming character with an abundant storage of information. As the CEO/owner of Chatham Biotec and Mega Chaga, his background is in innovative forestry products. He lives with his dog Mocha, a pretty Shepard/Boxer mix. The four of us took a ride down to Caladonia Gorge, a protected natural area. We hiked through the forest until we reached a creek. The water squeezed and crashed down through a narrow slot, it's wake churning into a deep cold pool.


Ryan told us we'd be swimming at Crooked Creek, so I came prepared with my bathing suit. Although, I didn't come prepared to jump off a cliff into the water. I'm such a chicken. It took me quite a few minutes to mentally prepare for my pathetic attempt of a jump. But, I did it, and after I did, I realized that in order to get out of the cold water, I was going to have to climb up the cliff I had just jumped off of. Ryan made fun of me. He said that I was hugging the cliff all the way up, holding on for dear life. I'm such a coward.

Spending a few days at Ryan's was a lot of fun, but we needed to get back on the road to maintain some sort of schedule. We were on our way to discover Nova Scotia. Rocky's friend Kathy, who he had lived with in Taiwan, now lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia, with her husband Ryan. The both of them live with a few roommates in North Halifax, a great area named The Hydrostone. The moment we arrived, Kathy greeted us outside and embraced me with a big hug.


As I began unpacking the motorcycle, Rocky noticed a hissing sound coming from the front tire. It had a strange hole on the wheel wall where the air was escaping but after removing the tire, no hole was found on the inner tube. The tire was placed back on and seemed OK but we weren't comfortable keeping it. We had planned on getting a new rear tire because ours was low on thread but we then decided that a new front tire was also necessary. Although the front tire was fairly new, it was the same tire used when we were in our accident. Rocky and I agreed that there was a good possibility that the tire was unsafe and should be replaced.

We had planned to spend the long weekend with Kathy and Ryan. Ryan is in a band called Three Sheet and was booked to perform at a few venues throughout Nova Scotia. Ryan also owns a motorcycle and had the weather been better, the four of us would have gone on a great little camping road trip. Instead, Ryan went by van with his band members because the weather called for heavy rain all weekend. Rocky and I couldn't do much but wait for the sky to clear up. After relaxing all weekend, we finally decided to take our chances against Mother Nature and our faulty tire. We took a short road trip to Peggy's Cove and it was well worth it. The rain had stopped for a short moment and the scenery was incredible. It was definitely one of the prettiest coasts I have ever seen.


The following day remained somewhat dry as well. Rocky and I rode to the motorcycle shop to pick up our tires because they had finally arrived. Without any other choice, I placed each arm through a tire and held on tight as I sat on the back of the bike. We rode from the shop for just under one minute before lights began flashing behind us. We were being pulled over by an undercover cop. He asked us where we were going and said that carrying the tires wasn't the safest idea, we could get charged. He then asked for the tires, said that he would place them in his car and he would follow us to where we were going. Amazing! I laughed the entire ride. Especially at the thought of the paranoia Rocky must have felt from a cop following behind him for 20 minutes. Once we arrived at Kathy's home, we enjoyed a good chuckle with him. We exchanged info and he told us to call him if we had any troubles. In case you are reading our blog, Mr. Detective/Constable Upshaw, we did not inhale. ;)

Rocky and I spent a while changing both tires. With the bike ready, we were excited to get back on the road. It had almost been a full week spent with Kathy, Ryan, their roommates Andrea and Adrienne and the household dog, Jetson. The night before we planned to leave, Jordie Lane, an amazing musician from Australia, came to stay at the house with his beautiful girlfriend Clare. Although it was nice to relax and spend time in such an interesting household, we said our goodbyes and got back on the road the following morning. It was too bad that we didn't stick around to watch Jordie on stage. He is extremely talented.


Our next destination was Cape Breton Island. Although it is physically separated from the Nova Scotia peninsula by the Strait of Canso, it is artificially connected by a rock-fill Canso Causeway. We rode until we found a place to camp in a field near an industrial section of Port Hawkesbury. Just as I was setting up the tent, I began to realize that we were in the center of millions of Mosquitos. I tried to hurry but it was futile, I felt as though I was getting eaten alive. I was happy once we were in the tent, but I still spent a long time killing the mosquitos that snuck there way in. I don't like to kill anything but I felt no guilt as hundreds of them pressed against the mesh to watch the bloody massacre.

Located in Cape Breton, the Cabot Trail is considered one of the world’s most scenic drives. It truly was gorgeous. After riding for most of the day Rocky pulled over for a bathroom break. A gravel driveway led us to an outhouse but to our surprise, it also led us to a beautiful place named Neil's Harbour. A small river found its way into a larger body of water. A few meters away was a sandbank that separated the freshwater from the ocean. We set up our tent in the small, designated picnic area along side of the Harbour and listened to the ocean waves crash against the opposite shore. I didn't imagine it could get any better until some of the locals lit up some fireworks visible from where we camped. When the fireworks were over, the black sky was filled with billions of stars. It was a perfect place to admire.

We packed everything up the next morning and headed towards Sydney, Nova Scotia. We camped in a large field and planned on taking The MV Blue Puttees Ferry to Newfoundland the following afternoon. Everyone kept saying how amazing Newfoundland is, but I get really seasick and was not looking forward to the long Ferry ride.



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We left the province of Québec and crossed into New Brunswick on June 23rd. Entering the town of Campbellton, we rode around and found a spot to camp next to a radio tower, atop a hile overlooking the town.
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We awoke the next morning, packed up and headed for the city of Moncton.
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We had contacted a guy on couch-surfing, named Ryan, and he agreed to host us in the town of Riverside, a suburb of Moncton.
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Ryan took us to a great spot off the beaten path, called Crooked Creek.
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The three of us took turns jumping into the river from the rocks on the bank. The water was cold.
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Ryan's best friend was Mocha, his pet dog.
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Ryan, Mocha & Paula
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On June 27th, we said goodbye to Ryan and headed for Halifax, Nova Scotia. My friend, Kathy, whom I had met ten years earlier while living and working in Taiwan, was now living with her fiencé, Ryan, in Halifax. They had invited us to come and stay with them as we passed through the area.
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Paula and I endured a long stretch of rainy whether when we arrived in Halifax. We had ordered and were waiting for two new tires to arrive, so we hadn't planned on doing much travel anyway. Ryan is a musician in a band called Three Sheet. They had several gigs on the Canada Day long weekend. Kathy decided to tag along with them.
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Ten years prior, I had lived with Kathy in an apartment with many other roommates. Kathy and I quickly became good friends.
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On Canada Day, the skies finally cleared up and Paula and I decided to ride out to Peggy's Cove. Peggy's Cove is a small fishing village 45 minutes outside of Halifax.
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Peggy's Cove Lighthouse
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Peggy's Cove
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Paula At Peggy's Cove
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Adrienne was one of Kathy's roommates. She was the best friend to Jetson, the household dog. Adrienne planned on traveling to New Zealand and invited us to come stay with her if we made it that far.
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We left Halifax on July 3rd and headed north, towards Cape Breton Island. The following day we rode along the world-famous Cabot Trail. The drive was certainly beautiful. We had heard so much about it that our expectations were set very high. It was a stunning ride, but it was a short ride, and Paula and I both agreed that we preferred the ride along Route 132 in Québec much better.
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Somewhere Along The Cabot Trail
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We decided to head off the main road along the northern tip of Cape Breton Island. It was a nice detour that lead to some great scenery.
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Cape Breton Island
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Nearing the end of the day, we found a great rest stop on the outskirts of Neil's Harbour. It had a beautiful stream and a fresh-water lake that was separated from the sea by a small strip of beach. We knew we had to camp there for the night, so, we waited until dusk, after the park ranger made his last round, and set up camp.
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While waiting for the sun to go down, we took a dip in the lake to wash off. We headed out the next day for North Sydney, Nova Scotia, where we had planned on boarding the ferry to Newfoundland.
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Rockwell 23 Sep 2013 13:34

Newfoundland
 
July 6, 2013 - July 16, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg Over five hours on the ferry and I didn't get sea sick! Either the small patch behind my ear worked or the ocean was calm enough not to make me feel queasy. We finally arrived in Newfoundland and it didn't take long to notice people spoke very differently on the island known as The Rock. We also quickly learned to pronounce Newfoundland as the locals call it, New-Fun-Land. The ferry docked in Port Aux Basque, a tiny town that took us just minutes to ride around. We were in search of a bite to eat and our options were limited. We surprisingly ate a Subway sandwich. It has been well over a year since I've been able to stomache even the smell, but it actually tasted delicious. I'm not about to eat one (or two) every day like we had on our last trip, but I'll definitely enjoy one every now and then.

It was late in the day by the time we were ready to search for a place to set up the tent. Even though there was enough sunshine still out, we were warned by many to keep off the roads during dusk to avoid hitting moose. There is a large population of moose living in Newfoundland. We decided to stay near Port Aux Basque for the night and it didn't take long to find a great place to camp. Newfoundland once had a railroad that traveled across the entire province. Since it was no longer in service, a gravel path is left where its tracks once were. Locals find this useful to ride their off-road-vehicles on. It seemed like everyone owns an ATV or a skidoo.

We rode for a few minutes down the gravel road until we reached a wooden deck just big enough for our tent. It was perfect. We unpacked as quickly as possible so that we could admire the incredible panoramic view before it got dark. It didn't matter what direction we looked, the view around us was breathtaking. As the sun began to set and we both just stared in awe. It was one of the prettiest moments I had ever experienced. We were speechless. Early the next morning, we continued down the gravel road until it became sand and knocked us over. It was a gentle drop and we got up easily but the sand got deeper as we continued, and we eventually got stuck. Half of the rear tire was buried and moving the motorcycle felt impossible. Rocky and I removed our bags and the panniers as two kind strangers offered to help push the bike out. Riding through off-roads always seems to be a crazy adventure but it was well worth the view we witnessed. As we pulled onto the highway, we learned that we had just spent the night in JT Cheeseman Provincial Park.

After a beautiful but windy ride, we arrived in Corner Brook, a small city on the western side of Newfoundland. We sat in a parking lot next to a park waiting for the sun to set because we planned on setting up the tent somewhere nearby. As we waited, we were approached by a man named Delano. He was riding a Kawasaki KLR and asked a few questions about our KTM. We shared a few words, and shortly after he left he returned to tell us of a really great place to check out. We followed him up a hill to an area named Cooks Lookout. The site was used by Captain James Cook as he kept an eye out for smugglers and privateers from 1763-1767 when he charted the coast. It offered a fantastic view of the Gulf of the Saint Lawrence. After a short walk around, we came to a memorial monument boat, built of stone. It was the perfect size to fit our tent and motorcycle. It seemed like the perfect place to set up our tent.


The following morning, we decided to stay in Corner Brook. We stopped at the local YMCA for a shower and enjoyed the rest of the day laying under the sun at a local park. Since we really loved where we had camped the night before, we decided to spend another night in the boat. Even though it was a popular place to visit, the locals were very friendly about us being there. Some even complimented the idea of camping there. Early the next morning as we were packing up the tent, we were approached by a man on his morning walk. He spoke with us for a few minutes and invited us to his house for breakfast and a shower. There was no way that we could possibly say no. I love meeting kind strangers. We finished packing and met with Dennis at his house. While sitting on his back porch, we enjoyed a great view of the city. He made us coffee and brought out bowls of fruit, including a fruit we had never tasted. Cloud berries, also known as Bake Apples, are an orange looking blackberry with a tart taste to them. After freshening up, filling our bellies and sharing some stories, we exchanged hugs and he wished us well on our journey. What a great, friendly city.


We got back on the road and planned on going to Gros Mourne National Park where we would pay to camp in a campground. We usually don't pay for camping because we can't justify paying $30 to sleep on the earth and also because we can't afford to, but it was a special occasion. Rocky had never tried a hallucinogen and I found us some magic mushrooms before we left home. Unfortunately, they weren't as strong as they should've been but it was enough to heighten our senses. During an evening walk past another picture perfect scene, we ate the 'shrooms and eventually made our way back to our campsite. We gathered the wood to build a fire and lit up a joint. It was really dark and it took me a second to notice that there was a man standing beside us. Initially I was startled. He appeared out of the darkness and, once my eyes properly focused, I realized that he was the park ranger. I looked at Rocky to warn him but he was busy smoking the joint and that made me want to laugh. Suddenly, the park ranger began to speak and I could barely contain myself. Apparently, I can't understand anything Newfoundlanders say. It is English I assume, but I began to understand why they are called 'funny talkers'. To make matters funnier, the park ranger stood there talking to us long enough for us to wonder if we were supposed to offer him a few puffs. Rocky and I laughed for a while after he had gone.

The next day we prepared to go on a hike. I've been on many hikes before. I thought I knew what to expect but Rocky decided to create his own path that day. He wanted to climb to the top of a mountain but we had to walk through thick dry brush. I like to be adventurous but I was wearing knickers, I had just shaved my legs and moisturized. I bitched and complained the entire climb up that mountain. Once we reached the top, I realized it was worth every scratch. The view was incredibly beautiful and we even found a lake up there. We laid on on the grass for a while (wink wink) with not a person in sight in all directions. Rocky took the opportunity to say something romantic, along the lines of "See...I told you so. Isn't this awesome? You should just trust me from now on."


When we returned to the campsite, we were charging our electronics under a large overhang and met a couple from New Brunswick. Martin and Cynthia were riding throughout Eastern Canada on a BMW. We exchanged stories over a bottle of wine they were sharing and Cynthia made me laugh to tears. We found out, weeks later, that Martin and Cynthia were related to Adrienne (their niece), who we stayed with in Halifax, Nova Scotia. What a small world! We hung out with them for a while and then Rocky and I headed back to our site for a nice big campfire to toast some marshmallows. I wish we could have a campfire everywhere we camp.


The next morning, we packed up all of our belongings so that we could continue traveling north. I wasn't feeling well and I wondered if I was experiencing an allergic reaction to black fly bites. I had over ten bites just on my neck and scalp and all of them were extremely swollen. After searching on-line, I am convinced that I had black fly fever. I felt weak, nauseous and feverish. We left Grose Mourne and rode for a few hours until we reached Hawkes Bay. Rocky was annoyed with the way the motorcycle was riding and wondered if the problem was coming from the wheel or if it was electrical. He said the the motorcycle has been riding weird for a couple of weeks, just after we spliced the electrical wires together or since we replaced the tires. We pulled over to investigate and Rocky noticed that the ABS sensor was slightly rubbing against the ABS grill. That could've been the cause of the surging and wobbling he was feeling, but everything was assembled properly. He couldn't figure out why it was scraping. As the sun began to set we decided it would be best to spend the night next to an abandoned office across the street where we had a perfect view of the Bay. We weren't the only ones to think it was a good spot to stop. The coast guard helicopter parked there as well.

We enjoyed a lazy morning and continued riding north towards Saint Anthony. It was a beautiful ride with the ocean to our left showing many shades of blue. Saint Anthony is a small town on the northern reaches of the Great Northern Peninsula of Newfoundland. We rode through until we reached the furthest tip of the town and decided that camping beside the lighthouse was a great spot. We were on a cliff top, high above the ocean with the view of icebergs in the far distance. It was a great place visually, but it was also intensely windy. But, then again, most of Newfoundland has been windy. Early the next morning Rocky took the bike apart as I packed everything. I knew he was stressing about what the problem could potentially be because he woke me up numerous times throughout the night saying "I wonder if it's...". As I packed up our things, I took a moment to look out at the ocean as I folded the tent and noticed a bunch of dolphins swimming past. That was probably the coolest thing I have ever waken up to. I was mesmerized, staring out into the distance.

After waiting a while for Rocky to work on the motorcycle, I warned him that I really had to pee. Rocky told me he would be a couple of hours and that I would have to find somewhere outside. What? Not only am I in a very open touristy area with no bush to hide behind, the morning sun shining bright and the wind blowing hard, it is difficult to be unnoticed especially if I was squatting with my pants around my ankles. There was no bathroom for a couple of kilometers and I hadn't peed in more than nine hours. I was upset that he couldn't have waited to take the motorcycle apart at a more convenient time and location. I must've looked annoyed because a man approached us and asked if everything was ok. I asked him if he knew of a nearby bathroom and he offered to drive me to one.


Richard was a sweet man (much sweeter than Rocky, hah!). He drove me down the street to his house and let me use his restroom. Before driving me back up the cliff, he stopped at a Tim Hortons and insisted on buying Rocky and I a coffee. Once we reached Rocky, Richard told him to put the motorcycle back together, just enough to be rideable down the cliff. We were invited to use his garage, take a shower and wash our laundry. He even offered us some jarred moose meat and drinks prepared with iceberg ice. The thought of drinking something that had been frozen for thousands of years just blows my mind!

With the bike taken apart, Rocky re-spliced a few wires with hopes that it would stop the surging. He also changed the spark plugs just in case that may have had something to do with it. And, in the process of all that, he discovered and fixed an oil leak. Rocky had worked on bike for hours as we all hung out in the garage. Richards brother Todd was visiting and many of their friends would stop by to say hello but I think Richard became concerned with me being bored. He invited to take me to the top of a cliff that offered the best view of St. Anthony where he shared a lot of the local history with me.

Shortly after arriving back at the house, Richard prepared dinner and invited us to join him and his beautiful wife for a meal. His wife Gay had just finished her day of work at the hospital and she was just as friendly as Richard. During a hot cup of coffee with our bowl of dessert, she told us stories of Saint Anthony and how there was once a Polar bear in her back yard. Ummm.... Polar bear? I never imagined Polar bears in Newfoundland. Supposedly, the Polar bears that visit the area are from the Davis Strait population (a strait lying between Greenland and Nunavut, Canada) which is estimated to occupy 1400 bears. They accompany the heavy pack-ice that occasionally drifts further to the south than normal during the spring break-up. Whoa! I would be super scared if I ever had a Polar bear roaming my yard.

With the bike fixed and ready, Richard suggested the route that we should take to return towards the ferry. But first he suggested that we pitch our tent in his yard or garage instead of searching for a place. After hearing that there was a Polar bear in their yard, the garage sounded like a lovely spot to sleep. Richard, his wife, Gay, and his brother, Todd, were a fine example of the hospitality in Newfoundland.

We were on our way through L'Anse Aux Meadows, the only confirmed Norse/Viking site in North America outside of Greenland. On our way there, we stopped for lunch and enjoyed a meal I have been anxious to have for a very, very long time. Fresh crab is my absolute favourite and there was no way I was about to reject the cheap price. With our tummies full, I was ready for sleep but it was still early. After all the work that Rocky had done on the motorcycle, he was still experiencing what he described as a feeling of surging and a wobble in the front tire. Rocky became obsessed with fixing this problem. He took the wheel off in the parking lot of the restaurant and still found no problem. Once we arrived in L'Anse aux Meadows at the most northern tip of Newfoundland, Rocky took apart the tire once more. People always gathered around to offer their help. As everyone exchanged ideas on the potential problem, I could see the frustration in Rocky's eyes, and then a hint of hope. When Rocky replaced the front rim, after the accident, he used the old spacer. Maybe, just maybe, the spacer was slightly smaller than the new one. He reached in his tool bag for the spare spacer and compared it to the old one he had installed, it was slightly different. That would definitely cause the abs sensor to rub against the plate! But would it cause the surging and the wobble?


Richard had told us of a place he called, the Salmon Hole. We planned on camping there for the night. The Underground Salmon Pool is where we witnessed an Atlantic salmon river, surfacing from an underground cave. Thousands of years of physical weathering and erosion to the limestone has formed an underground river and the continuous water flow has widened the river channel which has become a resting stop for the Salmon. It is the only known place in the world where Atlantic Salmon swim through underground river caves to get to their spawning grounds. I was having vivid thoughts of diving in and catching one with my bare hands. I even went as far as to wonder where I could find some soy sauce, ginger and wasabe. It's a good thing I had eaten all that crab earlier, otherwise, I'm not sure that I would have been able to control my urge. That could've been the best sashimi in my lifetime.

Our ride back south was windy, extremely windy. There were many moments that I thought we were going to blow over. It was early afternoon and as we were riding past Grose Mourne National Park for the last time, we pulled over so that we could hike one of the trails. It took us approximately 3 km there and back to complete and the last 10 minutes threatened rain. Luckily, we only felt a light mist as we rode south, away from the storm. After an expensive meal the day before, Rocky punished me with Subway. As we were eating, we were approached by a guy that politely asked to talk about our motorcycle. Troy was a true motorcycle enthusiast. When he spoke of the hundreds of bikes he had owned, he reminded me of John, our motorcycle guru, we had previously met in Calgary, Alberta. Troy was a really nice guy who shared many stories and was very interested in hearing ours as well. Just before leaving, Troy told us of a cottage he was building for his family. He said it was under construction but it had the most incredible view of a lake. We were given the address and were told where he kept the key hidden. He wasn't kidding, it definitely had the most incredible view of the lake. It was a beautiful place to spend the night.


On our way back south, Rocky pulled over to take the tire off once again. The surging and wobble still existed. This time, we decided to remove the rim strip. When we put the new tire on in Halifax, Nova Scotia, we applied rim tape to the tire because the rubber rim strip kept sliding to the side. After applying the tape, we kept the rubber stip over top of it because we thought if anything it would be added protection. Maybe the surging was caused by having them both on? We removed the rubber, left the tape and crossed our fingers. Nope, but at least the wobble in the wheel was gone!


We were sad at the thought of leaving Newfoundland. We made one last stop in Corner Brook to shower at the YMCA before riding to Port Aux Basque to catch the late night ferry. Newfoundland is such an incredible place. It is breathtaking at every corner, an absolutely stunning place to visit. When Rocky and I imagined this trip, we always talked about the beautiful landscapes we would see. But, throughout our adventure we are also constantly amazed by the beautiful characters we meet. Newfoundland is one of the friendliest places we have visited. We were greeted by everyone, if not with words or acts of kindness, we were greeted with big smiles. Everyday we were greeted by strangers. I have never met kinder, more caring people who are genuinely interested in at least saying hello. It was a very sad moment as we left The Rock.


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There are two ferry routes from Nova Scotia to Newfoundland - a short crossing that arrives in Port aux Basques and a much longer route that ports in the western part of Newfoundland in Argentia. We boarded the ferry, operated by Marine Atlantic, from North Sydney, Nova Scotia to Port Aux Basque, Newfoundland on July 6th. The crossing took roughly 6 hours and, for a motorcycle and two passengers with reserved seating (recommended), the cost was CA$165.22.
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After getting off the ferry in Newfoundland, I found a gravel road on my GPS just outside Port Aux Basque. I set it as our destination and this is where it lead us.
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We watched the sunset in awe and snapped photos. We were definitely thankful that we made the choice to visit Newfoundland.
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Our camping spot was a wooden deck just off the trail that was likely used by locals to gaze at the scenery as we did the night before.
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We packed up in the morning and continued down the gravel trail that, according to the GPS, looped around back to the main highway. Being near the ocean, the gravel path suddenly turned to patches on sand, and the bike went down. Paula and I picked her back up and continued along to the next, much bigger patch of sand that we got stuck in. A couple of locals passing by helped us dig the bike out of the sand, and we were able to make our way back to the main highway.
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Our next stop was the town of Corner Brook. After arriving, we met a local resident, named Delano, who rode a Kawasaki KLR and took us up to a hill that overlooked the entire town. With the skies darkening, we thought that the hill, called Captain Cook's Lookout, was a great spot to set up the tent and camp for the night, despite being a bit of a tourist attraction.
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Down a small walking path, we found a seating area made from slabs of rock. It seemed like a perfect spot to set the tent up. We woke the next morning and descended the hill into the town of Corner Brook.
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After our morning coffe at Tim Hortons, Paula and I visited the local YMCA and asked to use the shower since we were both in desperate need of one. After washing up and feeling refreshed, we spent the day at the park, relaxing in the warm sun.
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The view from Captain Cook's Lookout
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We liked our camping spot so much that we decided to spend another night there. The following morning, we met a local who passed by our tent on his morning walk. Dennis was his name, and, after a short conversation, he asked us if we wanted to go back to his place for breakfast and to get a shower. We were starting to get a good idea about the kindness and hospitality we were told to expect from the people of Newfoundland.
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Paula, Bob, Jeanette and Peanut - We met this couple at a rest stop while traveling through Gros Morne National Park. They were from Québec, and were traveling in their caravan with their dog, Peanut.
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While visiting Gros Morne National Park, we decided to stop at a paid camp site, which we rarely do. We just can't justify spending $25-$30 per night to sleep outside, especially since we usually find much more beautiful spots to camp out for free. Nevertheless, paying for a spot to camp allowed us to leave our gear and enjoy the surrounding areas. The day after arriving, Paula and I decided to go for a hike. I like to make my own path, so I took Paula on a hike up a mountain that most people don't climb. Paula rarely likes to get off the beaten path, so she followed me kicking and screaming the entire way up the hill. We reached the top of the mountain to discover a beautiful pond. Though she won't admit it, she then realized it was worth the climb.
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While camping in trout river, we met Martin and Cynthia. As we waited for our electronics to charge, we shared a bottle of wine and were later invited back to their camp site for a smoke. They definitely were not the snobby-types that you'd expect BMW GS riders to be.
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We left Trout River on July 11th, and headed north along the Viking Trail towards St. Anthony.
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Leaving Trout River, I stopped to snap a few photos of the awesome scenery. Paula wasn't feeling too well. She is very susceptible to bug bites, and she thought that she was suffering from a case of Black Fly Fever.
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The next day, we arrived at Fishing Point in St. Anthony.
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There is a traditional Viking Hut at Fishing Point in St. Anthony. It is a theme restaurant where viking reenactments are performed.
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Without a place to stay, we thought that, though it was a bit of a tourist location, we would camp out at Fishing Point and stay hidden behind the lighthouse. In the morning, it seemed that it was a spot where the locals came to drink their coffee and watch the sunrise.
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We had been experiencing problems with the motorcycle for a while. There was a jerkiness at certain range of RPMs, and I was experiencing head-shake (wobble in the handlebars). While starting to work on the bike ay Fishing Point in St. Anthony, a stranger, named Richard, offered us a place in his garage to work on the bike. Seeing that I was tired and hungry after many hours of work on the bike to fix an oil leak that we had discovered after tearing the bike down, Richard made us dinner and gave us a place to sleep for the night.
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While I worked on the motorcycle, Richard took Paula up to a hill that overlooked the town of St. Anthony.
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We camped out that evening in Richard's garage.
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We left the next morning and said goodbye to Richard.
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After saying goodbye to Richard, Paula and I left for L'Anse aux Meadows, on the northernmost tip of Newfoundland. "Discovered in 1960, it is the most famous site of a Norse or Viking settlement in North America outside of Greenland." -- Wikipedia
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Paula at L'Anse aux Meadows
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Burnt Cape Park Reserve
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The winds along the coast of Newfoundland are very strong. Stiff crosswinds prevented us from riding upright and forced us to lean into the wind.
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The Coast of Newfoundland
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Since before arriving in Newfoundland and all through Newfoundland we were told to be careful of all the moose. This was the only moose I had seen the entire time in Newfoundland.
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On our way back south, we decided to make the trek out to Western Brook.
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We met Troy on our last night spent in Newfoundland. We were eating at a Subway sandwich shop and he asked us if we'd be upset if he asked us about our motorcycle. Troy was a motorcycle lover who had owned over 200 different motorcycles in his life (according to him), and crashed many of them. As we were leaving, Troy offered us a place to stay for the night in his cottage, which was only 30 minutes away. He gave us the address and told us that the key was hidden under the stairs if we were interested in spending the night there. We were, and we did. The view of the lake and the sunset from his cottage were spectacular.
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Southern Newfoundland
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Leaving Newfoundland
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The ferry back to the mainland of Canada was booked, and we left Newfoundland on July 16th. Paula and I were both sad to be leaving this beautiful place.
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This time, we took the overnight ferry, which had been recommended by several people. After crossing through the night, neither Paula nor I would recommend it. It is very difficult to sleep on the ferry and having to ride in the morning after only a few hours of sleep wasn't too pleasant.http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Rockwell 17 Oct 2013 16:14

Leaving Canada
 
July 16, 2013 - July 24, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg The freezing cold, uncomfortable ferry ride back to mainland Canada was very depressing. We were wrong to assume that the night ride would provide us with any rest. We got off the ferry exhausted and thought it was best to pitch our tent under a few trees to the side of the road. After a few good hours of sleep, we rode to New Glasgow, Nova Scotia and spent the night by the East River of Pictou. We got up early the next morning and took a free ferry across to Prince Edward Island. It was a small, pretty province where every lawn and garden was perfectly manicured. Mostly farmland, Prince Edward Island is known for growing high quality potatoes. Over 88,000 acres of potatoes are grown each year, making it the largest potato-producing province in Canada. We immediately noticed that finding a place to camp for the night would be difficult because all of the land seemed owned. It was getting late and the sun was quickly dropping below the horizon, I began to doubt that we would find a place to camp. Just as I was beginning to really miss Newfoundland, we came across a picnic area. Confederation Trail is Prince Edward Islands abandoned railway line, it has been developed into a tip-to-tip trail. It was a great place to set up the tent. When we packed up our bags the next morning, we exited the island on a long bridge spanning the Abegweit Passage of the Northumberland Strait, linking Prince Edward Island with mainland New Brunswick. The 12.9 kilometer (8 mile) long bridge takes about 15 minutes to cross and it cost us $17.75. It was kind of scary riding on a two lane highway surrounded by water. It was so windy that I feared we would hit oncoming traffic or end up drowning! Rocky said he was constantly fighting the wind as it kept pushing us towards the oncoming traffic. I was glad to make it back into New Brunswick safely.


The last time we were in Moncton, New Brunswick, we had ordered a few parts. They had arrived at the shop and were waiting for us to pick them up. Toys for Big Boys is a large nice shop every man would love to spend some time and money in. Since Rocky continued to feel that something was still wrong with how the motorcycle was riding, he decided to get the front tire balanced to see if that was causing the problem. The process of elimination was annoying but at least it was fixing a bunch of little problems. To save a few dollars, Rocky removed the tire himself. Craig, an employee of Toys for Big Boys, kindly refused to charge us any money for balancing the tire. When the KTM mechanic approached us to make sure we didn't need anything else before he headed out for the day, Rocky told him about the surging and the mechanic tugged on the chain. He told us that a new one was needed, and that reminded Rocky of the time the bike stalled when we were in Campbellton, New Brunswick. The chain was fairly new but the bike was fully loaded when it stalled going down a hill. That may have put a lot of tension on the links, causing them to stretch. At least we finally knew what the problem might be.


We packed up to leave but continued chatting with Craig. He was a mean looking guy that enjoyed riding a Harley Davidson. A customer and friend of his showed up and joined the conversation. Jason, along with his son Braydon, offered us a place to set up the tent on their property. Craig then suggested that we might as well stay at his camp, where we could spend the night on a bed in the spare room. We would have been happy at either place. We all met at Jason's, a beautiful house located in Hillsborough, New Brunswick, where we were introduced to his wife Lisa and his daughter Bridgette. We also met Craig's other half, Betty. Jason grilled some steak and poured us some beer as we all got to know each other. After eating, he offered to ride us around his property. Jason is the Quarry Operations Manager for the company, Brunswick Limestone. With the Limestone Quarry located on his property, he offered to give us a tour on a crazy looking Dune Buggy that had adrenalin written all over it. Rocky and I strapped in and held on to the 'holy shit bars' as we sped though the dirt and gravel paths. After racing around and doing a few 360's and 180's, I was chewing on dirt and picking mud out of my hair. It was the most fun that I have had in a long time.

As it became late in the day, Craig and Betty drove Rocky and I to the camp. Betty's camp was a log home situated deep in the back roads of Hillsborough. Resting on the top of a hill, it offered a fantastic view. Craig’s friend Aaron joined us there, and, after a few drinks, Rocky told them he was a bit disappointed to have not seen any moose in Newfoundland. Craig said he had been spotted one a few days back and suggested we go back to the same spot to see if it was still hanging around there. It was a great drunken idea but I highly doubted our mission to meet moose would pan out. We tip toed with excitement hoping to get a peek. Just as we reached the end of a driveway at a different camp, we immediately saw a mother moose with her baby at the salt licks. A salt lick is a deposit of mineral salts that animals use to supplement their nutrition, ensuring that they get enough minerals in their diets. Hunters sometimes use artificial salt licks, either blocked or bagged, to attract wildlife such as moose, to encourage potential prey to frequent an area. With Craig being a hunter, I think he got more excited than we did. It was pretty awesome.


We got back to camp and had a few more drinks before two more of Craig’s friends showed up. We were introduced to Animal and Jamie and quickly found out why his friend had been nicknamed Animal. He was absolutely hilarious. As I sat back to take a good look at these guys, I watched them exude toughness but I had to laugh when Craig said that he doesn't go to work to make friends. I had to remind him that his new friends he met at his work didn’t believe that for a second. Craig and his friends were sweethearts, whether they would admit it or not.

After a very late night, we woke up early to Betty cooking breakfast. Craig had to work early and I felt bad for his hangover. All of our belongings were at Jason's, so she dropped us off there before driving Craig to work. When we got to Jason's, I was still exhausted. Rocky borrowed Jason's dirt bike and followed Braydon to the back roads to learn how to dirt bike. Braydon is barely a teenager but his ability to ride was impressive. Even his little sister Bridgette had her own dirt bike and rode with the best of them. While they were having fun I was hoping that a shower would wake me up. But, three hours of sleep after a night of drinking wasn't enough. After Rocky had returned and showered, Jason offered us a bed to nap on and that did the trick.

Aaron, who we had met the night before, invited us out for a ride. He had a custom made Harley Davidson that made him look pretty badass, but I knew he was more of the polite, calm and collected type. We toured around the area and he took us to a few really pretty places. We then went back to his house to meet his beautiful girlfriend Tara, who invited us to a delicious dinner. Tara is a veterinarian with a big loving heart. Her and Aaron live together with their cat Alexis, a toy poodle named Bella, a boxer named T-bone and two Pitbulls named Gino and Compton. She explained how they just recently began experiencing some problems with the animals getting along. Gino, the Pitbull, was getting old and potentially getting dementia. He had been picking fights with Compton, the other Pitbull, for no apparent reason. It was difficult to understand what she was saying as Compton and Gino cuddled together on a mat, as best friends would. It wasn't until Tara showed us the fresh wound marks to Compton’s neck that we began to realize the severity.


Tara shared with us how 5 years earlier she met Gino, the beautiful Red Pitbull. She was in search of a dog and had located one on the Internet. When she had arrived at the house to meet him, the owner told her that the dog would cost $2000 because he was an all time winning fight dog. As a veterinarian and animal lover, Tara was devastated to hear that. She expressed her disinterest and proceeded to walk away. As the owner entered his house and was out of site, she saw Gino in a small caged area in the back yard. Without any other thoughts, Tara said that one of two things was about to happen, either Gino was going to eat her or he was going to run with her. When Tara opened the gate, her and Gino raced together into her vehicle. From that moment forth, Tara poured her heart and soul into her new buddy. Gino repaid her efforts by becoming a loving, loyal friend. Despite his traumatic and abused past, he became an incredibly wonderful family pet. It took many years, but as Gino aged, controlling his mind and abilities became much harder for him and his past began to slowly haunt him. It was very difficult to hear Tara express Gino's story. Gino seemed like such a sweet gentle soul and I could tell the amount of time, love and care that Tara had put into rehabilitating him.

After dinner, we all drove together back to the camp. Betty and Craig were already there ready to introduce us to Wyatt, Craig’s son. Wyatt is a smart, artistic, polite kid. It was really nice to meet him. After the craziness we had the night before, a relaxed night was a mutual decision. Once again, we woke up to the smell of bacon. Betty was great at spoiling us. When she joked about adopting us, we seriously considered. Spending time with them and at the camp had been so much fun. It felt great to be a Redneck, as they called it. We were sad to be leaving but happy to have met such great friends. As we all got into Betty's Jeep we took one last tour of the backwoods to glance at the lake and surrounding area once again.


We were dropped off at Aaron's to pick up our things and reacquaint ourselves with our motorcycle. We were never able to bring the bike to camp because the steep dirt roads were slippery mud after all the rain we've had this summer. When we got to Aaron's, Rocky realized that he had forgotten his keys back at camp. Aaron knew where the spare camp key was kept and offered to drive Rocky to get the key for the motorcycle. As they were pulling out of the driveway, I was grabbing some belongings from inside the house and began organizing a few things to bring them outside. Out of nowhere I heard a growl as the dogs rushed to the screen door. Suddenly, Gino grabbed a hold of Compton's cheek and locked his jaw on Compton's flesh. I stood there in shock. All I could do was scream for help.

Tara immediately tried stepping in between them but the moment I tried helping her, T-bone, the boxer was gently nipping me away. Tara asked that I try shutting the screen door on Gino's face but my attempts were pathetic. I rushed for a jug of water to try and drown him from biting but that didn't work either. It just diluted the blood into making the kitchen look like a murder scene. Aaron and Rocky must of heard me scream for help because they came rushing inside. Exhausting all efforts, everyone attempted to separate Gino's grip from Compton's face. I had to take T-bone, the boxer, into the bathroom with me and try to console him. He was confused by the commotion and also trying to get between his friends. After a moment, I heard silence. I rushed out the bathroom as soon as I felt it was safe. There was blood everywhere. With Gino outside in a cage, Tara ran to care for Compton who was hiding in the basement. She said that a little TLC and antibiotics would heal his wounds. All Rocky and I could do was try to clean away the thick smell of blood.

I'm not going to lie, it was a traumatic experience for me and it evoked many emotions. But, I have shared this story because it was a part of our experience and also because I want to take the chance to honor Gino's life. Sadly, Gino was put to rest that day. And although Tara and Aaron feel that their efforts had somehow failed Gino, I believe that isn't at all true. They had done their best to provide a gentle soul with the life he deserved and should have been given since birth. Gino was raised by an animal to become a monster. It wasn't Gino that should have been punished but the asshole who thought it was entertaining to train a dog to constantly fight for its life. Who encouraged it to be violent and raised it to believe that it was necessary and normal to distrust and kill. I seriously wish that it wasn't Compton who got attacked, or Gino who got euthanized, but that it had instead been the piece of shit who bragged that his dog was worth $2000 for never having lost a fight. May You Rest In Peace, Gino.

Our hearts felt heavy as we continued our journey. With a long day ahead of us, we rode to Hopewell Rocks and attempted to distract our minds. Hopewell Rocks are located on the shores of the Bay of Fundy. They are rock formations that stand between 40-70 feet tall caused by tidal erosion. Due to the extreme tidal range of the Bay of Fundy, advancing and retreating tides, along with waves, have eroded the base of the rocks at a faster rate than the tops, resulting in their unusual shapes. The tides vary from day to day but the high tide can be as high as 16 meters (52 ft.) giving The Hopewell Rocks one of the highest tides in the world. Twice a day the base of the formations are covered in water, we visited during low tide so that we were able to walk around.


I had contacted a guy from couchsurfing.org and we arranged to stay with him at his place in Saint John, New Brunswick. On our way to his house, we had stopped for dinner in a town called Alma. Known for its delicious seafood, I was excited for dinner. With only a limited time left in the East Coast, we were yet to have a lobster dinner. During lobster season in the East Coast, chicken is more expensive to purchase. We walked into a tiny restaurant that also served as a convenience store. In this very casual atmosphere, we were served an incredible lobster dinner.

When we arrived at Ross's house, it was almost dark. Ross met us outside and told us we were going to have a bonfire in the yard. Rocky loves to build fires and I love to sit by their warmth, it was a great plan. While Rocky started the fire, I ran inside to use the washroom and bring some things inside.

It sucks to say this, but it's what happened. As soon as I walked in, I was slapped in the face with the smell of cat litter. Ross asked me not to mind the mess but it was an uncomfortable dirty. When he showed me the bedroom, where Rocky and I would be spending the night, I didn't know how to react. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable but he put me in an uncomfortable situation. The floor was sticky and I was afraid to set my bags down. The pillows on the bed had no cases and were covered instead with a rainbow of stains. I would never dare to check between the sheets. I walked into the bathroom and immediately noticed that the floor was carpeted with a thick layer of dust and black curly hairs. There was no toilet paper, good thing I have an emergency stash.

It was such an awkward predicament to be in. I wasn't comfortable staying there. I was grateful for his kind intentions. He was a really sweet guy and it was fun to sit by the bonfire with him and his friends but I would never put a turd on a platter and invite you for dinner. Rocky and I slept on our own blanket and left early the next morning.


I wondered if we would see Marty again, the Australian we had met on the ferry to Manitoulin Island in Ontario. He had contacted us on Facebook and said he would be traveling near us. We were excited and agreed to meet. After grabbing a coffee and a few things at the grocery store, Martin, Rocky and I had a great place to camp. Tucker Park Beach was more than perfect. After our tents were pitched, Marty and I jumped in the water for a refreshing swim. It was nice to hang out with Martin and hear all of his experiences on the road. It was also exciting to share all of the memorable locations that he must not miss on his way through Newfoundland. He planned on traveling further east in the morning but Rocky and I decided to stay at Tucker Park Beach to do an oil change on the motorcycle. Half way through, it began to rain. The rain continued for the next 24 hours. We got out of the tent to finish the oil change every time we thought that the rain had stopped, but minutes later it would begin to pour down again.

The rain eventually stopped the next day and we were able to get back on the road. We planned on traveling to the Canadian/American border but weren't sure which side we would end up sleeping on. Once we arrived to St. Stephen, New Brunswick, we stopped at Tim Hortons for a cup of coffee and to dry out our camping gear. While we were there, we were approached by a local named Bernard, he was also on a motorcycle. With black clouds quickly covering the sky, he invited us to spend the night at his house, and just as we arrived there the rain began to pour down.

Bernard lived with his wife Diane in a pretty house by the train tracks. Diane and I immediately got along as we sat at the kitchen table exchanging tales. She gave me a little bit of history of St. Stephen, Canada's Chocolate Town. I didn't know why it was called that so she asked that Rocky and I take a trip over to the grocery store. We went with her and she insisted on buying us some Ganong chocolates! nom nom nom mmm chocolate. :p Ganong Chocolate Company was established in 1873 making it Canada's oldest candy company and one of St. Stephen's main employers. After a quick drive past the factory and around the entire tiny town, we returned to her house for a few more laughs and a cozy bed to sleep on. It was one last reminder of the kindness we received from all the friendly strangers in the East Coast.

Visiting Eastern Canada was a humbling experience. The landscape was ridiculously pretty and it amazed me that such a large population of incredibly kind, generous, friendly people, all live there. Leaving Canada is always difficult because we leave our comfort zone, but this time it feels a bit tougher.


http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg

On July 18th, we took the ferry to Prince Edward Island that leaves from Pictou, Nova Scotia. The crossing was free and took roughly one hour.

We spent the day riding around P.E.I. Nearing sundown, Paula and I began to look for a place to camp. I found a park on my GPS and set it as our destination. We arrived at Green Park Provincial park just before sunset, only to find out that there was pay-camping nearby and sings were posted that prohibited camping in the park. With the sun down and the skies darkening, we eventually settled for a grassy patch next to the highway.

Green Park Provincial Park

The following day, we made out way back to the mainland, cross from P.E.I. along an almost 20km-long bridge. I battled strong cross winds until we finally reached land in New Brunswick. Stopping back in Moncton to pick up parts from the local KTM dealership, Toys For Big Boys, we met Craig, who works in the service department. He balanced my front tire for free, and offered us a place to stay for the weekend at his camp (cottage).

Craig's friend, Jason, who was at Toys for Big Boys picking up his dirt bikes with his son, Braydon, invited us all back to his place for beer and steaks. Afterwards, he took us for a spin in his dune buggy around his large property in Hillsborough, New Brunswick.

We spent that evening at Craig's camp. It was truly a red-neck haven, complete with shotgun-shell Christmas lights and an amazing view of the surrounding area.

There was another cabin at the camp that was no longer used. It had a lot of character.

We met Aaron while that evening at Craig's camp. Aaron rides a custom Harley and looks pretty bad-ass, but he's a super nice guy. He took Paula and I on a ride around the coastal region of the Bay of Fundy and invited us to his place for dinner with his girlfriend, Tara.

Aaron At The Camp

After two nights, it was time for Paula and I to head towards the U.S. border. We spent the morning with Craig, his girlfriend, Betty, and Craig's son, Wyatt.

Paula, Betty, Wyatt & Craig

Paula & Wyatt

Craig dropped us off at Aaron's house, where we had parked our motorcycle, and we said our good-byes to Craig, Wyatt and Betty. Aaron and Tara owned several pets, including two Pit Bulls and a Boxer. The elder Pit Bull, Gino, who was a fight dog that Tara had rescued five years earlier (read her story above), had recently been attacking the other Pit Bull, Compton. While we were there, Gino suddenly attacked Compton, latching onto his face with a vice-like grip. There was a struggle to pry Gino's jaws open that ended in a room covered in Compton's blood. Compton was OK and required only minor medical attention. The difficult decision was made that day to have Gino put to rest.

We didn't get to say a proper good-bye to Tara and Aaron. Shaken from what had transpired, Paula and I packed up the motorcycle and made our way down the coast of The Bay of Fundy to Hopewell Rocks.

The Hopewell Rocks, also called the Flowerpot Rocks or simply The Rocks, are rock formations caused by tidal erosion in The Hopewell Rocks Ocean Tidal Exploration Site in New Brunswick. They stand between 40-70 feet tall. — Wikipedia

They are located on the shores of the upper reaches of the Bay of Fundy at Hopewell Cape near Moncton, New Brunswick. Due to the extreme tidal range of the Bay of Fundy, the base of the formations are covered in water twice a day. -- Wikipedia

We arrived at low tide, which allowed us to walk along the floor.

The following day, we got a message from Marty, whom we had met on our second day of the trip on the ferry crossing to Manitoulin Islands. He was in the same area and we made plans to meet up in St. John, New Brunswick.

After having a bite to eat and catching up on our travel stories, we rode around and search for a place to camp. With the sun nearing the horizon, we came across a perfect spot along the bank of the St. John River at Tucker Beach Park.

Paula and Marty took a dip in the water, while I sat on the rocks and snapped photos.

Marty

That evening, we sat on the rocks, had dinner and talked into the night. The following morning, Marty packed up and we said so-long as he set out to catch the ferry to Nova Scotia.

After two more days at Tucker Beach Park trying to do an oil change in between rains, Paula and I set out towards the U.S. border. We stopped in the border town of Saint Stephen to have our last Tim Horton's coffee. While sitting there, a local, named Bernard, started up a conversation. We all noticed the ominous storm clouds arriving from the west, and Bernard offered us a place to stay at his house just down the street and around the corner. We followed Bernard back to his place and met his wife, Diane. Bernard worked the night shift, so we spent that evening with Diane, chatting and driving around town. Paula and I left the following morning and crossed into the United States.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Tara's Story
Anxiously, I dialed the seven digits found at the bottom of a local web add. I was finally going to add yet another beautiful addition to our quickly growing harmonious family unit. A voice at the other end of the phone answers and politely hands the call over to her husband who had placed the add. I explained to him how interested I was in providing a loving home for his gorgeous female red nose pit bull. With a touch of empathy in his harsh voice he informed me that unfortunately she was no longer available, that she had been picked up earlier that day by a young couple whom where an excellent fit.

“However”, the voice on the bellowed out, “ my step-father has the brother to my female. He ‘s been neglected and my step-father just wants to get rid of him before he becomes a liability”. I quickly wrote down the address and phone number. One more call.

Following the directions dictated, I arrived at my destination. Two and a half excited hours of driving brought me to a gated entrance; Big Cove First Nations. I pulled into the dooryard. On the property stood a new bungalow home, tons of quads, skidoos, and other assorted unkempt toys.

As I walked cautiously towards the back door, something caught the corner of my eye. It was a large fenced in pen containing chickens and geese and…. The door opened. I was greeted by a heavyset longhaired man. He led me into the kitchen where five of his buddies sat. He began to tell me about the dog that I had been so excited to receive.

Apparently “ Gose “ was a champion. Not just any champion, a rugged never-back-down champ who won ribbon upon ribbon and shamed any dog compared to his strength. My host informed me that the “champ” was going to run me around two thousand. Walking down to where the ”pit-ring” I tactfully told my host that I wasn’t really apart of that scene and that and uninterested in the dog.

Exiting out the same door I enter I was stopped dead in my tracts. A pair of amber eyes stared at me through a fluey of white and brown feathers. That was it. Running over without hesitation, I unlatched the chain-link gate, unclipped the lead and ran like hell back to the borrowed mini van. “If he follows me he’s mine, if not then I'm still getting the **** outta here” I said to myself.

Both of us leaping into the van, we pealed out of there. The entire drive home this dingy, repulsive dog laid his greasy head on my knee. I swear that dog never even blinked that trip back home.

We arrived home, where we were greeted by my other dog. She was a beautiful pit bull boxer mix with the nicest demeanor, Harley. Harly and the champ instantly hit it off. Now I could give this dog a good going over. His hair was a greasy tattered mess peppered with oozing scabs and crusted scars. His ears reeked with brown debris caked in so bad it’s a wonder he heard anything at all.

I washed him till the water ran clear off his back and the tips remerged from his ears white. He was stunning. A specimen of perfect pit-bull confirmation. That dog never left my side, and didn’t allow anyone to get too close to me either. I was his person and he was my dog. He was so protective of me a friend once unwittingly attempted to make a joke of throwing a water bottle at me. Lets just say it was intercepted before the bottle had a chance to leave his hands.

This dog was a bevy of social behavioural and territorial issues. We spent hours biking until he could hardly walk to calm him enough to appropriately introduce novel ideas, such as walking past a dog or person without trying to eat them. It was long, hard work but I knew with his trust and respect in me and my love and understand in him I could make him an excellent pet.

Day by day went by and he showed his undying gratitude to me every chance he got. We knew one could not live without the other. One could not be complete without the other. We were meant to be one another’s saviour, protector and soul mate.

In the days to follow the champ received his new title, Gino. His name was an ode to his attractive muscular physique and suave demeanour. Gino was a fast learner and quick to impress. We biked in through town together with him attentively by my side, no leash required. We hiked in the winters and ran in the summers. We were inseparable.

My long-term relationship with my high school sweetheart had taken a sudden turn for the worse and Gino insured so long as he was in the room I was not touched. But when Gino was outside he couldn’t protect me. After a few months of this cycle my relationship ended and he left taking Harley and leaving the house in shambles, everything I owned broken.

I fell to my knees in tears of relief and fear, my face burred in Gino`s strong chest. In the weeks to follow I never admitted how scarred I was to anyone, but Gino knew. He cuddled in bed with me and in the most reassuring way, he laid his strong head on hip.

We got each other through the toughest times. When I couldn’t afford to buy dog food and my own groceries I always opted to get a bag of Gino`s favourite over my own needs. He would politely pretend to be disinterested and not eat out of his consideration of my own self-neglect.

Incredibly, I was able to graduate college and afford the type of life Gino and I deserved. He had the best of the best and he knew it. Brand new leather studded collars, and fancy weight training bags all that was missing was a little friend for Gino to chum around with while I was at work.

Compton was an eight-week-old blue brindle bull-style pit bull. I purchased him from a reputable breeder stationed in Halifax. The boys met one another and it was magic. Gino had previously helped foster kittens from the SPCA and his patients as a parent where unmatched until now. Compton was full of piss and vinegar, pulling at Gino`s ears and lips trying to entice him to play. Gino never curled a lip of utter a growl. He put up with all the playful abuse and they were best buddies.

Months went by and the feisty puppy matured into a lovely adult. I had the two best-looking and behaved pits around- a proud mom I was indeed.

On a side note, I ended up meeting a man while spending some time at a local pub. We hit it off. Aaron and I moved in together in during the Christmas holiday in December of 2011. Aaron had a white stubborn old boxer, T-bone. T-bone was a touch hesitant to share his bed but eventually he came around to the idea of brothers.

Time pasted and the three became inseparable to much of Aaron and mine`s delight. Are family was complete and we were happy.

Bella was a wide-eyed nervous miniature poodle that had a few too many unfortunate encounters with her housemate. Her housemate was an aggressive pit bull whom had a particular taste for poodle. One day Bella’s housemate decided that she no longer wanted to share the house with the little poodle and tore her throat out. The owners abandon her and the animal hospital I worked at and never looked back.

Guess whom I called and bribed into letting me take her home. Upon arrival Bella charmed her sweet little way into Aaron’s heart and what was agreed to be a temporary stay turned into a permeate one. All four dogs slept together, ate together and occasionally ran off together. It was picture perfect.

Compton and Gino occasionally would get into a brotherly scrap over toys or treats- nothing serious. But a change in atmosphere was in the air. Once a happy pack was now an anxious one. Everyone seemed to be on edge and a once docile genital Gino was now becoming moody. The spats between the brothers became more frequent and increasingly more violent.

How does a mother choose between her children? How can you explain to your soul mate that their company, love and understanding are no longer required? And lastly, how do you play god and choose when the life of your fellow creature, rock, and best friend is to be terminated?

On one beautiful Sunday afternoon, I had to make the difficult decisions and answer these very questions. I detest the answer.

Gino in his senility attacked Compton in efforts to end his existence. I’ve never seen that look in my loving, sweet dog’s eyes before and it cut through me like a jagged shard of rusted metal.

Gino was euthanized that day with his loving family by his side. I buried my best friend with as much love and companion as I had bestowed upon he in his living form. A flower garden forms a warm embrace around him, where he lays atop a hill to keep his ever-watchful eyes on me.

Some people go their entire lives without ever meeting their soul mate or experiencing unconditional love. I am so damn lucky I was able to have five beautiful years of it.

Compton made a full recovery from his wounds. Bella and him are best friends and frequently frolic about with T-bone not far behind.



_CY_ 17 Oct 2013 17:32

Sorry to hear about demise of Gino the pitbull. really glad you two didn't get attacked when trying to separate. that would have resulted in a trip to the hospital with life changing damage.

Rockwell 4 Nov 2013 13:24

Quote:

Originally Posted by _CY_ (Post 440490)
Sorry to hear about demise of Gino the pitbull. really glad you two didn't get attacked when trying to separate. that would have resulted in a trip to the hospital with life changing damage.

It was a really tough moment. We were all just worried about the other dog, and not really ourselves.

Rockwell 4 Nov 2013 13:27

Vermont
 
July 25, 2013 - July 29, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We crossed the border into the USA, entering the State of Maine. I've always heard good things of Maine, but I think it got my hopes up because I wasn't as impressed as I was told I would be. It depends how you like to travel though. It was packed with tourists, many people obviously like it there. Once we entered New Hampshire, I thought it was really beautiful. After a full day of riding, we decided that we would try to find a place to hide our tent. We were in a town called North Conway, New Hampshire, and decided to camp in a field behind a McDonald's. North Conway is a very pretty town, I was excited to see more of New Hampshire. We began our morning early with hopes of avoiding rain. Rain seems to be the theme for this wet summer. Before riding through the White Mountain National Forest, we stopped at Dunkin Donuts for breakfast and coffee. It was a shitty way to start our day, Dunkin Donuts has the most horrible watered down coffee we have ever tasted.


Just after approaching White Mountains, Rocky asked me if I felt something weird. We were stopped for road construction but as soon as we started riding again Rocky noticed we had a flat tire. We pulled over into a campsite parking lot and I'm surprised that Rocky didn't snap. He has had to take the tires off so many times in the past few weeks that I bet he would be able to do it with his eyes shut. Once we were finally able to locate the tiny hole in the tube, we tried to patch it. For whatever reason, the patch wasn't sticking. We decided to use the old spare tube we kept for emergencies only, but I'm going to bet that it will soon cause us to do another tire change. We put the bike back together and re-packed our belongings for another attempt at riding. We were frustrated but at least the rain only spat at us the entire time. I would have hated the day if the rain had poured on us. We got back on the bike and enjoyed the view as we exited New Hampshire and entered into Vermont.

We had gone to high school with Rocky's good friend Jaimie and we planned on visiting him deep in the wilderness. Jaimie decided to move to Vermont after he found 23 acres of forest land for sale. He had always imagined living away from society and he made his dreams come true. After he moved into the forest, he began constructing what he calls home. A four story high, geodesic dome that has a trampoline as one of the floors and a large slide that can be used if you don't want to use the stairs. It features an outdoor cooking area with a stove made out of a recycled Keg that uses wood to heat. A natural spring runs through the property, with cold, delicious water. A washing machine is available for doing laundry, but it’s cranked by hand. And, he has an alternator connected to his bicycle, to charge a bank of batteries for electricity.

Jaimie has also constructed a nearby workspace. Built from an old airplane hanger, he calls it the Banana building. For the past few years he has been building spider-like robots. After making a few small prototypes he began to create a giant size spider robot. He documented the entire process on YouTube and was eventually contacted by an interested toy company. Attacknids are now sold in stores and have won a few awards. They are a six-legged robot with armour, weapons and a "battle brain". They have a head that rotates 360 degrees to aim its gun. The interchangeable blasters can fire disks, darts, or balls. They wear armor on each leg that flies off when it’s hit. After three direct hits to a plastic switch on the face, the robot shuts down. It can even wade through water and mud up to 3 inches high. I wish toys like these were invented when I was a child. I owned a sticker book and a few fake Barbies.


When Rocky contacted Jaimie, he asked him if it was possible to bring the motorcycle all the way up to the dome. We should've known that Jaimie believes everything is possible. There are two ways in, he told us, and it is possible to bring in the motorcycle if we took the long route in. Jaimie met us at the entrance but I didn't see a road. It was more like a hiking trail. I immediately got off the motorcycle and unloaded our bags to let Rocky tackle the off road experience. Jaimie helped me carry all of our luggage, except for the panniers. They remained on the bike. And by helping me, I mean he carried most of it. He is a machine. We hiked under the hot sun for almost one kilometer and then hiked through the forest for another kilometer. Jamie and I were pouring sweat while Rocky was practicing his off-roading. As soon as we got to a spot that Rocky could no longer get through, we had to remove the panniers. I wanted to poke him in the eyes when he told me that off-roading was also really hard work. Yes, he definitely worked up a sweat as well but I saw him forcing to hide his smirk, he loved every second. Approximately 300 meters later, the bare bike wasn't even able to continue but we were only a couple hundred meters from Jaimie's dome. All I could think of was how the heck we were going to get back out of there.

As soon as we reached Jaimie's place, I was out of breath and ready to collapse. But, we weren't done yet. Since it would be getting dark soon, Jaimie showed us where there was a good flat place to pitch our tent. We followed him up a 30 meter cliff, I was glad that a rope was placed there to help me pull myself up. I am petrified of heights but with my body working so hard my brain couldn't even function to distract me with fear. After reaching the top of the hill, I was surprised to see people, especially an entire family. We met Martin, Brandy and their two kids. They also had just arrived. They were on their way to Maine for a vacation but wanted to stop in Vermont to meet Jaimie. Martin was a big fan viewing Jaimie on YouTube and he wanted to see the giant robot.

The following morning, I felt good after sleeping like a baby. Rocky and I took a moment to gather our thoughts to figure out the best plan to get the bike out along with all of our things. Since the bike could only use the same trail it entered, Rocky would have to ride it back out the same way. We also decided that the smartest thing to do was carry our luggage out the opposite, shorter trail. As soon as we established the plan, we decided that we would need to bring the panniers up near the dome so that it would be a shorter distance to eventually carry them out in the opposite trail we came in. Luckily, Martin offered to help us because it was much heavier than we thought and the trail was extremely steep at that point. Martin cut down two tree branches and a gurney was built. Him and Rocky carried them half of the way but Brandy and I helped once we saw that they were struggling. We were really grateful for their help. It wasn't a job that most would sign up for, especially on their vacation. Once we were done carrying them closer to Jaimie's house, Rocky rode out of the forest and I hiked out following him. It took us almost two kilometers to reach the road and from there it was a quick distance on the bike to the small town of South Royalton. Once we were done doing our laundry at the local laundromat, we prepared ourselves to do the hike back to Jaimie's. How the heck does he live like this? I was exhausted and I had only been there two days.


I was dreading the next morning. Even though the bike was moved to the closest exit and I had carried out a huge bag on my back the day before, we still had two trips to make out of there. The first trip was for Rocky and I to carry out the panniers, the same panniers that took four people to carry. At least Rocky was encouraging, "It's only a bit more than one kilometer through the forest and past the two ponds!" Each pannier weighs approximately 40 lbs. and I could've never imagined being able to manage. I still can’t believe that I was capable of doing that. It was probably the most physically challenging thing I have ever done. After taking a rest, we decided to go back for part two, we still had to carry out a 75 liter bag with all of our camping gear, a backpack, a tripod and a heavy tank bag filled with all of our electronics. We hiked back to Jaimie's and before taking our last hike out, we finally had the chance to visit with our hosts. Jaimie lives with his partner Deshaina and his adorable little girls Aurora and Bellatrix. We all sat in their outdoor kitchen to enjoy a tasty meal Deshaina had prepared. I just can't imagine how Deshaina is able to live in the middle of a forest with two little girls. I applaud her because I wouldn't have the strength or I'd suffer from cabin fever. The mental and physical strength it would take to live there, would tare me to bits. After saying our farewells and thanking them for the insane but incredible memories, we finally made it back to our motorcycle with all of our gear. I am really grateful for the experience. Seeing Jaimie again after so many years was awesome, and it was really nice to meet Deshaina and their two lovely girls. And of course, I was also excited at the thought of losing a few pounds.

After a long day of hiking, we decided to camp by the White River in the small town of South Royalton, on the outskirts of the wilderness. We didn’t go far at all, yet we seemed so far away from where we last camped, at Jaimie's. Our next journey would begin in the morning on our way to New York City. We rode through many States that day. We left Vermont and re-entered New Hampshire. We rode through Massachusetts and then into Connecticut. It was nice to finally sit down at McDonald's to use their WIFI. After a couple of hours, we were approached by a man. Ken asked us about our motorcycle and travels, he too owned a motorcycle. We spent a very long time talking up a storm until his wife Pam walked inside to introduce herself, and to probably see what was taking her husband so long. Moments later, she asked us to spend a night at there home.

Ken was a Preacher and he lived with his wife and father, Merle, in a large, beautiful home behind their church. Ken and Pam have been married for most of their lives and it was cute to see how deeply in love they still were. They had recently celebrated an anniversary in Alaska and were excited to show us photographs of their trip. Rocky and I were immediately inspired to someday visit Alaska as well. Ken and Pam described their trip by saying everything about it was perfect because they believed that they were in the FOG. Being in the FOG is an acronym for Favor Of God.

After a nice hot shower, the bed we had slept on felt especially comfortable. It had been a really long time since we had slept on something soft. We woke up refreshed are were ready for our next adventure towards the city that never sleeps, New York.


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We visited my high school friend, Jaimie, who lived in Vermont. After university, Jaimie bought some land just next to the small town of South Royalton. His home was in the middle of the forest where there is no road access, and the kilometer (or so) hike through the trees took you to the dome he built from scrap parts. He had a fresh water spring, solar panels and a battery bank for power.

Jaimie, an inventor and a bit of a recluse, lived with his girlfriend, Dashaina, and his two children, Aurora and Bellatrix.

Aurora

Jaimie & Aurora, Dashaina & Bellatrix

Bellatrix & I

Paula & Bellatrix

Jaimie turned his hobby of building a giant mechanical robot into somewhat of a career, and has designed award-winning toys that are sold all over the world. Since visiting Jaimie in Vermont, he and his family have since sold "The Dome" and have taken up traveling in a converted cube van across North America. Jaimie and Dashaina mentioned the idea of buying an island somewhere in South America as a possible future plan.

After a few days visiting with Jaimie and his family, Paula spent out last night in the town of South Royalton, where we were able to do our laundry and prepare for the ride to New York City.

While stopped at a McDonald's near Southington, Connecticut, we met Ken and Pam. Ken noticed our motorcycle and struck up a conversation. Ken and Pam are two avid bikers whose ride of choice is a 2008 Honda Goldwing. After conversing for about an hour, Ken and Pam invited us back to their home since we hadn't yet found a place to sleep for the night. They offered a spare bedroom with a comfortable bed and a nice, hot shower. WE spent the night and, the following morning, made our way south towards New York City.

Rockwell 18 Dec 2013 14:29

New York City
 
July 30, 2013 - August 5, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg I was excited to go to New York City but we had many things to organize. We knew that parking the motorcycle in such a large city was going to be an annoying issue and we tried to solve that problem immediately. Since we were going to Iceland after NYC, we thought it would be easier if we shipped the bike sooner than later. The first thing we did once we entered the city was go directly to the airport. At Iceland Air Cargo, we were notified that we would have to provide our own crate. We were given phone numbers for a few companies that could build one for us, but they quoted the cost at almost $1000 USD. We thought that was absurd, especially since the cost to ship the bike was $1500 USD. There was no possible way we were affording that, we would simply have to build our own. Haldor, an employee of Iceland Air Cargo, said he would bring us a power drill in the morning and we could build the crate out front of the loading dock.


We rode to Home Depot and, after figuring out what materials we needed and how much it would cost us, we had to come up with a plan to figure out how to bring all the materials to Iceland Air Cargo. I'm surprised that Rocky didn't ask me to sit on the back of the motorcycle and carry all of the wood as he drove. I bet he considered the idea. Since it was too late to do anything else at the moment, we had no choice but to ride into Manhattan and figure things out in the morning. Just as we were about to finally leave Home Depot, the bike wouldn't start. Frustrated, we pushed the motorcycle to a nearby gas station in the case that Home Depot needed to lock its gated property. At the gas station, we unscrewed the skid plate and wiggled some wires. After a few minutes the bike finally started. At this point, we both just wanted the day to be over with. We rode towards Manhattan with low spirits but just as we were crossing the Manhattan Bridge, the sun was beginning to set below the horizon and the city glowed a beautiful bright orange into the purple sky. It was an incredible skyline that immediately demanded our attention.


My friend Theresa lives in Lower East Side Manhattan with her boyfriend Wayne and their little girl, Celia. They invited us to stay with them and reassured us that not only would it be safe to park on her street, but it was also free. We had no choice regardless, we were stuck with the bike until a crate was built. All we could do was hope the bike would be fine parked in the streets of NYC. When we arrived at Theresa's I was immediately greeted with a big hug. I consider Theresa my family. She has been a friend of mine since we were teenagers and has always gone out of her way for me. Once again, she was there with open arms, and a delicious dinner was waiting for us when we walked through the door. I immediately felt at home.

Rocky and I woke up early the next morning with intentions of building a crate. Our plans fell apart the moment Rocky realized that he didn't have his original registration papers for the motorcycle. Without that legal document, the motorcycle would not be shipped. We spent hours making phone calls trying to find out our options. We were told that Rocky would have to send a signed letter through FedEx to give his mom permission to pick up an original registration title to the motorcycle. Once receiving Rocky's letter, his mother would have to present it to the Ministry of Transportation in order to receive a new registration paper. She would then have to send it rush delivery to Iceland Air Cargo. We could only hope that everything would be done in good timing so that the paper work could be processed in time for the motorcycle to clear customs into Iceland. Iceland air Cargo only ships on Saturdays and we already faced the fear that it would arrive a week later than us. We could not afford to take the chance it would arrive even later. After spending most of the afternoon stressed out, Theresa thought it was best if we spent the remaining sunshine at the pool, she was right.




Once again, we woke up very early the next morning to try and build the crate. We would have had to wake up early regardless, parking on the street still came at a price that money couldn't pay. There were so many rules that we are surprised we didn't get towed for not properly following them. Parking was offered on either side of the road, but not at the same time. We would have to move the motorcycle from one side to the other because there was designated street sweeping hours. The hours were different for each side, we had to move the motorcycle every night after 12am/2am and every morning after 7am/8am to the opposite side. It was free to park on either side, except in the morning until evening, but we didn't find out the pay part until days later.



Rocky went inside of Home Depot to buy the materials and have an employee cut the wood into specific sizes. I waited outside with the motorcycle trying to find someone to drive the wood to the airport for us. There were many men standing outside, hoping to be picked up for labor work. Many illegal immigrants, unable to legally get a job in America, stood out front of Home Depot with hopes of making a few dollars for offering help with construction/labor jobs. I found a man with a van who accepted my offer of $30, to take the wood for the crate, to the airport. Everything was running much smoother than previous days but we had a lot of work still left to do. We spent all day building the crate and once we were finally done, we felt relieved to no longer have any responsibility to the motorcycle. After taking the Subway back to Theresa's, it felt great to arrive in time for a delicious meal.

The following day, were finally ready and able to tour the Big Apple! Rocky and I joined Theresa and her baby Celia into the city. For many years, Theresa was a model before becoming a mother. Her good friend and former photographer, Jo Lance, came out to meet with us for the day. He is extremely creative and talented. A character difficult to describe with any words other than absolutely fabulous. We walked around all day and evening absorbing the energy of the huge city and each other. After hours upon hours of many kilometers on our feet, we still weren't done walking but we had to stop for the night.



We woke up feeling a little bit lazy and Theresa recommended that Rocky and I take a walk to her favourite place, a Turkish Bathhouse. We had never been to one before but she convinced us that we'd love it. As soon as we entered the building, we went to a change room where we put on our swimsuits. Once we were back in the main hall, we grabbed a long cloth robe/cloak along with two towels each - one to sit on and the other to wrap around our head. Rocky and I followed Theresa down the steep stairs into a dark cellar. The entire place was crowded. I could barely see faces because I was distracted by so many speedos. All I kept thinking was where the hell am I? But Theresa is notorious for introducing me to interesting situations. We followed her into what I can only describe as a dungeon. It was pitch black and intensely hot.


We entered a small irregular room approximately 15 feet by 10 feet. Long cement blocks were constructed along the walls used for sitting, and a large cement well filled with freezing cold water sat in the center of the room. Just as I felt like I was going to suffocate, Theresa grabbed for a bucket, filled it with water and poured it over each of our heads. We were so hot that steam escaped our bodies. I suddenly understood why everybody was almost nude. I was completely soaked, dripping of sweat and water. The steam in that room was hot enough to slow cook a meal. After a while, we followed Theresa out of the door and she led us to an ice-cold pool. The heat from our bodies immediately escaped as we entered the water that was suitable for a polar bear. We then followed her inside a small room where she pulled a handle and jet streams of warm water shot out at us in every direction. "Ok, are you ready?" I never know what Theresa has in mind when she says things like that. Nonetheless, I trusted her (maybe ;) and I was as ready as I could ever be. I followed her back into the dark steaming dungeon and she hands me over to a tall massive man and tells him "Give it to her really hard!" Being on the road is tough on the body and having a huge Russian man bend, stretch and beat me with a branch was exactly what I needed. It sounds sarcastic but I am being serious. I will gladly visit another bathhouse in my lifetime.



Feeling refreshed the next morning, we were ready once again for the streets of NYC. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and we took a ferry to Long Island so that we could peek at the Statue of Liberty. We also walked around the World Trade Center Memorial and continued walking until we were exhausted. As soon as we returned to Theresa's apartment, dinner was ready for us. Wayne had spent all day slaving over the oven to feed us a delicious meal. We felt spoiled.

An entire week with Theresa was well-needed, it had been a while since we had seen each other. I was happy to have met Wayne and to have had the opportunity to spend some time getting to know Celia. She is such an intelligent little girl. I think she is absolutely precious. It was a perfect way for me to part with Northern America. We packed our bags the next morning and said our goodbyes before getting into the taxi. We were prepared to take our flight to Iceland and extremely excited to finally get there. Iceland has been on the top of our list of destinations to visit. It was a dream about to come true for the both of us!

Rockwell 18 Dec 2013 14:30

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Paula and I arrived in New York City on the hot and hazy afternoon of July 30th. We arrived at Iceland AirCargo to arrange the shipment of the motorcycle to Iceland only to find out that IcelandAir Cargo didn't provide the crate required for shipment. We called a few companies and were provided a quote of $680 plus a minimum of $180 for delivery ($860!). Not wanting to spend that much on money on a wooden box, we decided to visit a nearby Home Depot, purchase some lumber and build our own. We spent $120 for wood and Paula contracted an foreign man who was looking for work to deliver the wood to the cargo depot, 5km away, for $30. Halldór, the IcelandAir Cargo employee who was organizing the shipment of the motorcycle, brought his cordless drill in for us to use, and Paula and I spent a few days getting supplies and building our crate.

While organizing the shipment of the motorcycle, we stayed with Paula's friend, Theresa. Theresa moved from Hamilton, Ontario to New York over ten years ago for work as a model. She lives with her partner, Wayne, and their one year-old daughter, Celia, in the lower east side of Manhattan. After finally finishing up the details of the shipment, we were able to see a bit of The Big Apple.

Paula, Theresa and I spent the day seeing some of the sights New York City has to offer. We first visited the New York City Public Library.

Inside The New York City Public Library

The New York City Public Library

While visiting The New York City Public Library, we met up with one of Theresa's best friends, Jo Lance.
Theresa's one year-old daughter, Celia, had just become bipedal a few weeks prior to our arrival in New York. By the time we had arrived, she was already using her newfound mobility to tear up the streets of New York.

The five of us walked around the city and made our way to Grand Central Terminal.

Theresa and Paula have been friends since they were teenagers.

A Walk In The Park

Celia & Paula

Jo Lance is an eccentric, one-of-a-kind character who works in the art and photography industry, and has co-hosted the reality TV show, Mexico's Next Top Model.

The obligatory Time Square photo

Jumping Joe Lance

A Walk In New York

Manhattan at night

On our last full day in New York City, Paula and I toured lower Manhattan. At the time, there was a global terror alert and we, being the geniuses we are, stood around and watched as fire crews responded to a building fire just around the corner from the site of the World Trade Center.

Visiting the site of the former World Trade Center, we were reminded of the tragedy of that September day in 2001, and the innocent lives that were lost.

In order to prevent further such tragedies, I find it important to understand why such acts of terror occur. It is important to condemn all acts of terror, especially those perpetrated by our own governments in our names.

The tragedy of the 9/11 attacks were used to justify an illegal war that has resulted in an estimated 120,000 civilian deaths. These deaths are mostly absent from the public discourse. An American, Canadian or British life is no more valuable than an Iraqi, Pakistani or a Palestinian life.

The Buildings of New York City

After visiting the 9/11 Memorial, Paula and I decided to take the ferry to Staten Island.

Sailing From Manhattan

The Manhattan Skyline

Lady Liberty

On The Staten Island Ferry

Arriving In Staten Island

Postcards 9/11 Memorial

Lower Manhattan


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