Day 85 - Whycocomagh, NS to Bras D'Or, NS

July 6 (Thursday)

Start time: 6:00 am

Stop Time: 1:00 pm

KM Travelled: 94.5 km

Elevation: +953/ - 969 m

Special Stuff: Zig zags, Dumping emotional baggage

Overall I had a very restful sleep. I woke up a few times in the night wondering why my legs were so sore, but fell right back asleep. Yesterday's hills and the wind were likely more challenging than I give them credit for. It surprises me that I still get muscle soreness after riding 6,400+ kilometers. I don't mind it though - it has an odd satisfying feeling - that says something like "Good job, you pushed yourself hard on that ride."

I'm awake at 3:00 am and can hear my tent neighbours rolling over in their beds - there is no privacy in the tenting area. I get up at 3:30 am and no one is up except for a few quiet teenagers who've pulled an all nighter in the games room (classic teen thing to do). I sit in my ultralight camp chair drinking my cold instant coffee and enjoy the stillness and silence of the morning. There is something so incredibly beautiful about this feeling. I think I would enjoy the solitude of wild camping - if only I wasn't so afraid of bears.

At 5:00 am I pack up as quietly as I can and I'm out on the road by 6:00 am. As always, I thoroughly enjoy the morning ride with the sunrise showing a pink sky, blue water and yellow sunshine (all the classic colours we associate with babies and new life). I'm going to miss these amazing early mornings on the bike.

I am riding along a popular route that takes travellers to the 'world famous' (as the sign claims) Cabot Trail. There are more amenities available for travellers. I pass a few bakeries but sadly they don't open until later in the morning. I get excited when I come across a Tim Horton's - it is very busy, but I take the time to enjoy a breakfast sandwich and a coffee. I refill my water and stash a doughnut in my handlebar bag (in case I need an incentive/ reward later in the day).

The ride is mostly along Highway 105, but there are a few little offshoots - like a super cute little town called Baddeck. I would love to explore Baddeck some more if I ever come back this way.

Looking at the map of my route today, I see a zig zag that I'm not sure how to interpret. Yesterday when I was talking with Brian, he asked if I'd come across the bridge yet, I said "no" and assumed that maybe the zig zag on the map is a bridge or an approach to a bridge, or something like that (I'm not so great at interpreting maps as I'm sure is apparently clear by now).

At around the 55 km mark, I start heading up a hill (that I find out later it's a mountain). The incline is not crazy, but the hill seems to go on forever! I am grateful that for most of the climb I'm riding in the shade.

As the idiom goes, "what goes up, must come down". Once I reach the top of the hill, I start my downward coast - which has it's own danger element - a rumple strip the whole way down the hill. On this cross-Canada journey, I have learned that rumple strips are the enemy for bikers. I had a frightening experience back in Ontario that literally and figuratively shook me up and has me deathly afraid of rumple strips.

Part way down the hill I stop at a viewpoint and take some photos of the beautiful vista and a bridge down below. I see that a hairpin corner (aka 'zig zag') leads to a beautiful iron bridge.

I coast the rest of the way down to the bridge, thinking only about avoiding the rumple strip.

I get to the bridge and assess the situation. In front of me I see a single lane two-way bridge that I cannot see over to the other side. There is no bike lane, in fact there is not even space for a pedestrian to cross safely. I cannot see the traffic flow coming off the hill because the trees are blocking my view. I consider the speed of the traffic coming from behind me and the limited visibility ahead of me. I can't see through the bottom of the bridge (thank goodness), but the railing only comes up to just above my elbow when I'm on the bike - I could definately fall over this railing. There is no way around this situation, I need to cross the bridge.

I wait beside the bridge until I see a break in the traffic, and I gun it. About a quarter way onto the bridge, I see a car behind me in my rearview mirror - so I jump off my bike and grab the railing - I must look terrified, but cause I feel terrified. My whole body is trembling - I don't know what to do! A few moments later, I look behind me and see that the car is still there with a few vehicles behind it. I see a man driver and a woman passenger (a middle aged couple) and it feels like they are waiting for me. I take their que and get back in the saddle, taking the whole lane as I fumble around to get my feet clipped back on the peddles. My whole body is shaking as I hold back a flood tears. I talk myself into turning the pedals one after the other gaining momentum and confidence as I reach the top of the bridge and sail down the other side.

When I reach the other side and arrive in the safe harbour of the bike lane, more than 10 cars, trucks and transport vehicles pass by me as I pretend to wipe sweat off my face. What is actually happening is that I'm having a complete emotional melt down - I basically lose my shit (figuratively - not literally) right there on the side of the road as I feel the emotions of fear, gratitude, grief, love, loss, anger all at once as I dump out the emotional baggage that's been rolling around in my head for the last 6500+ km. If I ever write a book about this journey, those who've been following my blog posts for the whole trip, will just need to flip to Day 85 to get to the climax of the story.

I am so grateful for the couple who held back the traffic so I could have safe passage in an impossible situation. I wish I could have let them know how much I appreciate their patience, kindness, and courage to hold up the traffic for me - it is something I will never forget.

I gather myself together and continue along on my route. It is super hot (the 'Yellow Alert - Heat' is kicking in). I'm having some residual emotions from my melt down, but I feel that door is slowly closing. I come across a graveyard and decide to take some time out to visit the gravesites while enjoying my special doughnut treat.

I arrive at the campsite where I get a warm greeting from Brian who is busy working away. I now have a headache in addition to my eye infection. I share with him the experience I had on the bridge, and he seems to understand - he's really good that way.

When Brian's done work we head into North Sydney to pick up a prescription, have some dinner and ice cream. We see one of the maritime ferries that is docked and being serviced. In a few short days I will be boarding one of these to cross over to Newfoundland, but I have a bit of self-care to do before I am ready for the final stretch of the journey.

Thank goodness tomorrow is a rest day, because I really feel like I need a good rest.