This trip has been on my mind for a good many years; really since I discovered bike touring nearly 20 years ago. What I didn’t know was that it would feel, in a way, like a pilgrimage. I’ve been back home many times over the years but this time I get to savour the journey much more. I ‘feel’ the trip. I suppose that’s why pilgrimages are reserved for walkers usually. The journey itself, both outer and inner, becomes more important than the goal at the end.
Pretty picture intermission.
Another passing thought I had was how madly things have changed in our world in just a few generations. My family, who have roots in Gaspe going back 260 years, never left till my mom’s generation. Before that the only thing that took people away were overseas wars and the occasional job. Today, after leaving 36 years ago, I’m flying over from France to ride a bike home ‘for fun’.
Well, at the time I thought this it seemed insightful…I’m not sure it translated very well through my thumbs.
More shots from today’s 160 km.
Tomorrow is my last day on the road. It will also be my longest and hardest. I have limited myself to one Ricards Blanche in preparation.
May gale force winds be at your back throughout the hills of Murdochville!
Thanks, Ryan. I took the north shore, though. Certainly didn’t avoid any hills that way, though!
It did fine through your thumbs.
Great to see a photo of a hill. It was looking pretty flat till now.
Great read “Thumbs Patterson” and a hill at last! 🙂
There is a lot to be said for the slow road. I hope your journey ends as well as it has begun. (The first pretty picture was a knockout.)
That house was screaming to be shot. I couldn’t resist.