Day 40 – Thessalon to Espanola – 163km

We slept in a bit today. I was up late last night trying to catch up. Max, David, my mom and I ate breakfast at our site’s picnic table. It was another nice day. I suppose we have lots of sunshine days in the bank after all the rain and headwinds the last couple weeks. Ha! If only the weather worked like that. Thunderstorms are in the forecast for tomorrow.

Max, David and I rode 125km together today. We made decent time and had a fairly relaxed day taking turns drafting each other. We were a bit stiff to start after yesterday’s change in pace, but we loosened up after the first 2 hours. At Massey, Max and David stopped at Chutes Provincial Park to camp for the night. We said our goodbyes. I’m heading down into southern Ontario whereas they’re cutting across the north to Quebec to reach their finish in Chicoutimi by the 8^th of July. I kept pedaling on to Espanola. I’ll miss those guys.

I passed through a tiny town called Webwood. I think this town had the most visually apparent sexism of any place I’ve been on this trip. There was a huge ad for Old Milwaukee Beer: “Get a free girl with every can”. Just a couple seconds later, I had to laugh, but I was a little shocked. The town’s general store was called, “STEWART and wife’s General Store”. “STEWART” took up most of the sign and the word “wife” was stuck in there, literally in lower case, and there was no mention of her name on the sign. Ironically (and supposedly), Webwood elected Canada’s first female mayor. A sign at the beginning of the town reads: “Webwood, Home of Canada’s first woman mayor”. Grammatically, that doesn’t sound right. Neither does the tone.  Ok, enough torching of Webwood for now.

We were staying at the Thessalon Municipal Campground. Chris, the manager, was quite supportive of our ride. He was very interested in what we’re doing, and kind to us.  Have you ever met someone who just seems to love and appreciate every morsel of life? I got that sense from Chris, although I hardly know him. It came up in our conversation about cross-country charity campaigns that he is a cancer survivor. It makes sense that if he thought he was going to lose his life, and ended up keeping it, that he would never take life for granted again.  Life is precious, and part of what makes it precious is our ability to communicate. It’s one of the lessons I’ve learned from Kerr.

Follow me on this one. Let’s say you’re a clever person. Perhaps you’re creative and full of other talents. Let’s say you didn’t have a way to communicate efficiently for years. Let’s even say you didn’t have a way to be heard at all. Let’s say that just recently, your life changed. You got the services and supports you needed to communicate. Let’s say that the people around you became educated, and ensured your participation. How would you feel, now that you finally have a way to be heard? Would you take your voice for granted? Unlikely.

At this moment, I’m camped at Lake Apseley which is several kilometres south of Espanola. I’m just a little over 100km from rolling onto the ferry which will take me to my reunion point with Kerr and Burns on Wednesday morning. Owen Sound, Toronto, Peterborough, everyone, here I come!

-Skye

Day 39 – Sault Ste. Marie to Thessalon, ON – 85km

I woke up sprawled across my extra-large bed; something I haven’t had the luxury of doing for a long time. After eating a hearty trucker breakfast in the Travelodge restaurant, Lynne, Max, and David met my mom and I outside our hotel. We went on a quick sight-seeing tour of downtown Sault Ste. Marie—the bridge into the States, the scenic boardwalk on the peaceful river, the Roberta Bondar tent. Thanks to Lynne, we saw the Soo with efficiency and got all the photos! It felt like a Sunday. The sun was shining. The river was peaceful. There was hardly any wind. Traffic was almost non-existent.

Max, Me, David, Gail

After our sightseeing, we went to the Central United Church where “Koncert for Kilometres” was held. There was a genuine friendliness to everyone we met at the church. It seemed like they had met us before, or that we were from their town. These people reached out and strived to understand how they could improve the lives of others in their communities and wanted to do all they could to help our cause; even though they had never met us. Gail and I were given a brief introduction, and then we had our chance to say thank you. Many of the people in the room helped Kilometres for Communication in some way—attending the event, performing, organizing the event, or broadcasting info about “Koncert for Kilometres” on a local radio station.

Just before going into the church

Often, I find the pace of the campaign is too fast. It has to be fast, otherwise costs would be higher and we may never get across the country. However, there is a slight frustration that accompanies the rapid pace. I’m constantly meeting people on this trip—generous, brilliant, intensely active, and people who have stories to tell. Some people I get to know better than others, but almost always, when it’s time for me to leave, I feel sad. I haven’t really gotten to know them that well. If I have, then I’ll miss them. I always have more questions to ask, and almost always, I feel like my simple “thank you” doesn’t do justice to the warmth that people have shared with us.

We didn’t stick around at the church for long. We were meeting people at Velorution (a local bike shop) for 11:30am. Gavin and Jav (apologies if I’ve made a spelling error) were waiting. As David, Max, and I were getting ready, more people started arriving. Quinn and his mother Suzanne came. Ben brought his dad, Stan, along. Both Ben and Quinn are fairly young fellows, so we figured that they might like to see the banner that the Cool Communicators at the Camp Winfield Easter Seals camp had made for Kilometres. We showed them the banner with the children and youth’s handprints with their names and the communication devices they use written inside their handprints. I looked up, and we had a fleet of road bikers ready to pedal; Christine, Robbie (the mech at Velorution), Gavin, Jav, and Max and David (again, apologies for any spelling
errors). There was a 15-minute gathering in the sunshine as we got organized to hit the road. We took a group photo, said our farewells, and then it was time to pedal to Thessalon, about 80km away.

The crew at Velorution

Quinn and Ben meeting

We tucked into a line, and cranked it to the turn-off for St. Joe’s Island—about the halfway point of the day’s ride. We were making great time with the echelon-style of riding. We averaged just under 35km/hr in a headwind. It makes all the difference drafting, but inevitably your turn to lead the pack will come. At this halfway point, Detlef and Dan joined us (again, apologies for misspellings). Gavin, Jav, and Robbie went for another couple kilometres before they turned off to go home. Detlef, Dan, David, Max and I remained. We maintained our pace and made great time to Thessalon. We learned later on that the email sent out requested  the ‘fast road bikers’. David, Max and I have been used to riding at a much slower pace so as to not wear down our bodies on our tour, so this was quite the change in riding style. We definitely had fun cranking it, but tomorrow will have to start out quite lightly.

The gathering at the St. Joe's turn-off

Departing from the halfway point

We did 85km in 2 hours and 40 minutes, so we arrived at the campground quite early. There was a beach across the road from our site, so we decided to go for a swim and have a stretch. I still am trying to catch up on all my missed blogs as well as everything else. I took a little time to relax earlier, so now I’m up late typing away. I probably won’t have the patience or time to wait for the slow internet to upload all my photos tonight, so it will still be another day until my blogs are up. Then again, if you’re reading this, my blogs are up, so this fact is irrelevant.

Max et David sporting the Velorution jerseys--thanks to Lynne

How to sum it all up? The last 36 hours in the Soo have been fantastic. I have so many people to thank. Lynne, your generosity was legendary. Huge thanks to the local riders for the tow and company; I felt excited to ride my bike. Thank you to Rachel, Suzanne, Quinn, Ben, and Stan for coming out to Velorution—it was a delight to meet you. To everyone involved with the “Koncert”, you did a fantastic job that won’t be forgotten by those who attended. Marcella, I didn’t get to ride with you, but I adored the comfy bed and spacious shower of the Travelodge; thank you! What a gift! And what a crew in the Soo!

-Skye

Day 38 – Pancake Bay to Sault Ste. Marie, ON – 75km

Today had a different feel. I slept in. The sun was shining. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Our campsite was across from a wonderful sandy beach at Pancake Bay Provincial Park. I got all my wet gear outside to dry out in the sun. Then it was time to hit the beach. After days of cold rainy riding, it was such a pleasant change to stand in the sun on a beach. I had a relaxed stretch session to someone gently playing the guitar further down the beach.

I decided to go for a swim. Lake Superior was quite frigid, but the sun was hot, the beach was beautiful, and the water was clear. I waded in. I stood thigh-high in the water, chicken to plunge in. I noticed that my foot was numb. I dove in, moved around furiously for half a minute, and then gave up.

A chilly wade into Superior

I got on the road around quarter to 2. I made great time. The sun was shining, there was very little wind, and the scenery was still gorgeous; lots of beaches, endless water, and rolling hills. I was in the Soo 2 hours and 40 minutes later. Really, my day was just getting started.

There’s a saint who lives in Sault Ste. Marie. Her name is Lynne Brown. I knew from her email correspondence with us and her effort to organize the benefit “Koncert for Kilometres” that she was full of energy and kindness, but I had never met her. I finally met her when I arrived in Sault Ste. Marie around 4:30.

There’s a great bike shop called Velorution near where I stopped for the day. I would be meeting some local riders there tomorrow. Lynn suggested we go and check out the shop before it closed for the day—it was a nice shop; lots of room and a dirt pump track outside for the local kids to mess around on. Lynne had got me two Velorution bike jerseys, and some other bike goodies.

Back in the mountains, I met Max and David. I rode with them around Lake Louise. Our schedules have been just a couple days off ever since Calgary due to different routes and a different itinerary. When my mom arrived at the Sault Ste. Marie Walmart parking lot where I stopped pedaling, she told me that she had met Max and David a little after I left Pancake Bay. They were going to make it to the Soo for the night.

How we would meet, get showered, store our stuff, park, who would sleep where—I’ll spare you all that. In the end, Max and David reunited with me. Lynne, Gail, Max, David, and I went out to dinner. A huge thank you to Marcella, a local road biker who couldn’t make our event, but generously donated much appreciated hotel rooms to Gail and I. Marcella, if you’re reading this, we’ve heard from several people that you’re a delight, and we’re sorry we didn’t get to meet you.

Koncert for Kilometres was an emotional event. From what we hear, some people were crying. There were intense emotions of empathy and astonishment after the concert began with “Only God Could Hear Me”. You can watch the trailer here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ytn53lTdsf0

A comical moment where two talented musicians began to play different songs at the beginning helped to ease the pent-up emotion after “Only God Could Hear Me”. Local musicians fiddled, fluted, piped, and played with passion. Lynne made it all happen. I heard about all of this as I sipped lemonade on a deck in Lynne’s backyard. She handed me the program for the concert. At the end of the event, they sang Oscar Peterson’s and Harriette Hamilton’s “Hymn to Freedom”; a phenomenal choice. These are the words:

When every heart joins every heart,

And together yearns for liberty,

That’s when we’ll be free.

When every hand joins every hand,

And together moulds our destiny,

That’s when we’ll be free.

Any hour any day, the time soon will come,

When men will live in dignity,

That’s when we’ll be free.

When every man joins in our song,

and together singing harmony,

That’s when we’ll be free.

-Skye

Day 37 – Wawa to Pancake Bay, ON – 153km

There’s a distinct feeling of awe that I have looking out on an open body of water when I can’t see the land on the other side. For some reason, I could stare for hours at the waves. My curiosity about what is on the other side of the prairie of water puts me in a thoughtful trance. Right now, we are camped in Pancake Bay Provincial Park. Our site is just across from the sandy beach. It’s amazing to think that the piece of land which I cannot see is the land where I was just 4 days ago.

Since Thunder Bay, I’ve managed to get a full day ahead of schedule. I’ve finished my third day of pedaling 150km+ in the rain. Since Winnipeg, I’ve only had one day without rain, and even that day had a shower part-way through. Anyways, tomorrow I’m sleeping in. It’s a 75km ride into Sault Ste. Marie, and finally, the forecast is calling for sun. I don’t have to be on the road until 1pm. I’m going to have a nice stretch session on the beach and perhaps go for a cold swim. Then it’s off to the Soo!

Lynne Brown has done a fantastic job supporting Kilometres for Communication. Two nights ago, “Koncert for Kilometres” went down. It was raining, but nonetheless, the event which had 5 hours of talent raised over $600. Huge thanks to everyone who performed, came out, and definitely to Lynne, for all the hard work. Tomorrow I get to meet Lynne in person when I cycle in. I’m excited to meet our Kilometres Sault Ste. Marie champion in person. I continue to be amazed on this trip by the generosity of people who have never met us.

Today was a pretty dismal day for weather; lots of light rain, rain, intense fog which I actually enjoyed riding through, and two downpours (one to start the day, one to end the day). The wind was favourable today, which was lovely. I caught up to my companion from yesterday as planned, about 50km in. So for about 4 hours, we shared the nasty weather and cranked through the last 100km of our day. Nature’s spite is much more tolerable with company. I’m so thankful to have had a fellow rider the last 2 days. Thank you Wanetta, you saved me from a 12-hour mental battle.

There was some spectacular scenery. The fog added beauty to the rolling mini-mountains, but it also ruined the scenic look-outs that we would have had over Superior. At some points, the road went quite near the shoreline. With the dense fog, it was quite mystical scenery.

I’m feeling really pumped right now, despite having travelled over 1100km in 7 days of rain. I’m going to be meeting lots of great people over the next 2 days. I get to sleep in tomorrow. Sunshine and favourable winds are finally in the forecast. Most importantly, I’m 4 days away from reuniting with my dad and brother. There’s a lot planned and lots of company ahead. I’m stoked.

Hopefully that week of rain and headwinds has ended, and my initiation into my own province has been completed.

-Skye

Days 31-33

I’m in Thunder Bay tonight. We haven’t had cell service for three days, and we likely won’t have service for the next 5 days either. My apologies, but these are fairly quick blogs. It’s late, I’ve lost an hour transferring to the Eastern Standard Time Zone, and I need to wake up early tomorrow to get a good distance in while the rare pleasant weather lasts. As you’ll read in a moment, the last couple days haven’t been enjoyable—with the exception of this afternoon.

Camping spot east of Kenora to a rest area past Dinorwic – 165km

I felt great coming off my first rest day since Calgary. I didn’t feel stiff. I forgot what it felt like not to feel stiff. It was raining, but I didn’t care—all my gear was dry and clean. I ate a good breakfast, suited up, and headed out for my pedal. I was on the road around 10am—later than I like to get on the road, but the extra rest was nice and needed.

It was a fairly slow day. Hills and wind were against me. It rained for the first two hours of the pedal. Eventually it cleared up, and the wind from riding dried my gear. I wasn’t under any stress, I was well rested, I had recently come from the Prairies (so the hills were welcome), and I found it fairly easy to keep a relaxed mindset…for most of the ride. I tell myself: “just pedal quickly and easily, don’t push it, you have time, enjoy the scenery, enjoy the privilege of seeing everything slowly, and don’t worry about the time—you’ll get there”.

I passed through my original destination, Dinorwic. There were still a couple hours of light, so I decided to meet the support vehicle later on, and to keep pedaling. I wanted to be certain that I could get to Thunder Bay on time for our Monday event. It started to rain again. Oh well, I was dressed for it. The support vehicle passed me—‘see ya in another hour and a bit’. I cycled contently for about 5 minutes. Then I noticed how hard it was raining. Then I noticed that although I was dressed in 100% waterproof gear, I was soaking. It didn’t feel pleasant, but I was still warm. Trucks were misting me. I began to start regretting my decision to pedal on. Then I got the flat tire. Side of the Trans Canada, middle of nowhere, gravel shoulder, soaking wet, trucks whizzing by with their mist, limited time before dark, I was less than thrilled. I took my wheel off and did the routine. I took the tire off, and was trying to check for what caused the flat. I couldn’t find anything in the tire. I was getting really frustrated. Now I was cold because I stopped moving. I popped my wheel back on, not fixed yet, and walked on. There was a rest area 1km ahead. I found a gazebo. I took another stab at the tire. I found a fragment of glass embedded in the tire. Normally I would use a pair of micro-pliers to take something so small out, but I didn’t have that luxury. I was shivering, and trying to get that hated sliver of glass out. I couldn’t do it; my hands were trembling too much, had no grip because they were wet—I pretty much had a mental breakdown right there. I eventually got that sliver out, but it was getting dark, it was raining hard, and the visibility was miserable. I decided to call it a day. I couldn’t reach Gail in the support vehicle because she had driven out of cell reception. I assumed that she would figure out something was wrong and turn back. It wasn’t pleasant for her; she had quite the scare when I didn’t show up, but eventually she came back and found me. Sorry mom. She would probably like to elaborate on that story, but I’d like to move on.

Camping spot east of Dinorwic to camping side of the road past Upsala – 180km

I woke up to the sound of torrential rain. My gear was still damp from the day before. I ate my breakfast slowly, spaced out, hating that I was up at 6:30am and about to go out into heavy rain for hours. And that’s exactly what I did. There are some days where you say to yourself at the beginning: “How am I going to do this, or is this possible?” Often, I re-evaluate the situation: “There’s got be another way”, and then I realize there
is no alternative. At the end of the day I looked back, and thought to myself, “I would do anything to not be where I was this morning, what lay ahead of me is now behind me…somehow”.

I thought of myself as a vehicle, and my mind as the passenger, my body as a machine. Underneath the rain gear, behind the windshield of my goggles, I have to tell myself that all I have to do is stay seated. Keep those legs moving, fuel yourself with the right fuel, don’t run on empty and just keep going. I didn’t want to get off my bike. I think of it this way. If you choose the right equipment, maintain your equipment, train properly, and fuel yourself properly, you’ve done the hardest part. The rest will take its course.

Another day in the rain; 6 of the last 7 days of cycling have been rain. That was also a headwind day.

Camping spot east of Upsala to George Jeffrey Children’s Centre, Thunder Bay – 147km

I woke up at 6am today. I knew I would be losing an hour to the time zone change. It was annoying, yet exciting at the same time, changing back to my native time zone. Today was a hustling day. I was riding a moderately relaxed pace for the first 3 and a half hours. I passed the Atlantic Watershed point today, which I found interesting how they determine such an exact point. Every rain drop that falls after this point that runs off into a river, will end up in the Great Lakes basin, with a chance of graduating to the Atlantic.

Leaving the Hudson Watershed

I had to be in Thunder Bay by quarter after 3 to meet some new friends who would be riding with me. The last 2 hours of my ride, I was really pushing it. I didn’t want to take a chance of being late—so much so that I didn’t stop to look at the time on my phone. It turned out that I was 45 minutes early. Then the sun came out. I had a pleasant afternoon break.

I relaxed in a grocery store parking lot about 5km away from the George Jeffrey Children’s Centre. Robin, Nicole, and George rolled into the parking lot. We met, and then pedaled to the fundraising BBQ that Nicole and Robin had arranged—they deserve many thanks for the event they arranged. It wasn’t huge, but there was a relaxed atmosphere, we met great people, they had made a lovely welcoming banner for us (which looks like it involved a fair bit of effort), and between an employee “dress-down day”, a donation from Nortec Computers, and funds raised from the BBQ, the George Jeffrey Children’s Centre raised a little under a $1000 for Kilometres for Communication.

I continue to be amazed by the generosity of people as we travel from place to place. We continue to talk with delightful and inspiring people. We continue to hear that the same issues loom in every region we’ve visited so far. Long waiting lists, but also, the problematic attitudes of people—talking to adults like children because they have a visually apparent disability, talking around people as if they aren’t present, and a lack of openness. What do I mean by a lack of openness? Dawn and Tracy whom I met today gave a good example of what their experience was with some Thunder Bay bus drivers—one in particular according to Tracy. When the bus stops, and lowers, and it is taking someone a while to get on the bus, there is this bus driver who ignores the person who is elderly or disabled who is boarding. Imagine if you felt the tension of someone turning their head, looking in the opposite direction while they wait for you, seemingly annoyed. Now imagine if you have a condition where your muscles spasm or you don’t have great voluntary control over certain muscle groups which you need to move around—when you feel that tension, it might take you a little longer to get on the bus if your muscles stiffen up. In contrast to this silent bus driver, Dawn gets on the bus much more quickly with the notoriously snarky bus driver who’s been known to offend many people. When Dawn wants to board this fellow’s bus, he teases her. But they have inside jokes, and it’s a friendly tease. Dawn feels relaxed, and she’s able to get on the bus more quickly.

Today was a success. I’m exhausted and having difficulty writing coherent sentences. Thank you spell check—but my creativity is lacking a bit right now. I’ve caught up on almost everything that I need to before I go back out of cell service. I think blogs are unlikely the next number of days as I will be out of cell service until Sault Ste Marie.

Tomorrow I want to get a good distance past Nipigon, maybe even Schreiber (200km away). The day after that I want be in at least Marathon, and then the following day, near Wawa. After that, it is off to Batchawana Bay near Pancake Bay Provincial Park, and then to Sault Ste Marie the next day. If I stick to that, I’ll be a day ahead of schedule to catch up on blogs in the Soo!

That’s all for now; there should be some gorgeous cycling, lots of big steep hills, and rain is in the forecast again.

-Skye

Day 30 – Rest Day in Kenora, Ontario

There wasn’t too much to this day. We slept in a little bit–something we haven’t had the luxury of doing in weeks. The rest of the day was playing catch-up. Emails, organizing our events further down the road in Ontario, designing our Kilometres for Communication T-shirts, and doing some much needed chores (like laundry!). It was a busy day, we didn’t get all that we needed to get done, but we made some progress.

We were camped next to a calm lake which connected to Lake of the Woods. Around midnight, I decided to go for a night swim in the light rain. That swim calmed me down, and helped me get to sleep instantly. I would need my sleep. Big days were ahead of me.

-Skye

Day 29 – Highway shoulder camping spot, Manitoba, to Kenora, ONTARIO! – 159km

The sun was shining and the air was humid. I drenched myself in Muskol, the substance I will now refer to as ‘my saviour’ from now on. I also put on a thick layer of sunscreen. Covered in chemicals, I clipped into my pedals and set off to take on the road. I decided to take a more northerly route than the Trans Canada from Winnipeg into Ontario. The Trans Canada does not have a paved shoulder for the western section of the  province. I decided I didn’t want to travel 140km of gravel shoulder or risky on-highway riding. Highway 15/115 from Winnipeg is a quiet 2-lane road which I cycled most of yesterday. Highway 44 was a good portion of my riding today, and it would take me down to the Trans Canada near the Ontario/Manitoba border.

Highway 44 has to be the most poorly maintained, yet beautiful, road I have ridden on. There were literally stumps in the middle of the pavement which had been paved around. About 35km of the road had no shoulder—the Canadian Shield and forests came right up to the edge of the bumpy, cracked and uneven asphalt. At one point, I passed through a town, Rennie, Manitoba. The town’s sign read: “Rennie, home of something…or somebody famous…maybe…one day…” I took a picture. However, I didn’t realize the memory on my phone was full, so it didn’t save. I cycled on, unaware that I wouldn’t have anything to help me remember that sign 5 years from now.

It feels amazing to see Canadian Shield and forests, which have slowly become more coniferous as I came closer to Ontario. The black flies, mosquitos, and horse flies were intense. Swarms of flies followed me for kilometre after kilometre tirelessly. They didn’t seem to be biting me—I had drenched myself in chemicals. I am noticing some itches now at the end of the day…maybe a lot. Nonetheless, the bugs are worth trade-off for scenery. The shelter from the wind, hills to make things fun, the rock, the lakes, the trees, curvy roads, and a motivation boost from being in my home province—it’s all worth the price of some itchy discomfort. Even right now, some nipping insects have managed to find their way into our camper—how I don’t know exactly. I feel a bit like a kitten playing string. I keep hearing the buzzing, keep looking around the room alertly but really without a clue, occasionally swatting at thin air.

Still a long way to go, nonetheless, I'll temporarily feel like I'm on the home-stretch

I met another cyclist today. His name is Jess. He’s also doing a cross-Canada. We cycled into Kenora together and chatted. His way of touring: wake up at 5:30 to 6am, eat here and there, and slowly but surely pedal until around dark. Most cyclists don’t bike every single hour of daylight, but Jess seems to manage to do just that. It’s always great to have companions on the road—time rolls by.

I’m taking my first full rest day since Calgary. We’re camped by a beautiful lake. I initially had a rest day planned in Kenora; we have cell service, and there’s lots to catch up on, so why not? My favourite part so far about being in Ontario: I can hear the loons. I’m coming up to 3100km cycled, so tomorrow I have some bike work to do, in addition to lots of other Kilometres for Communication catch-up—mainly event planning.

I’ll keep you all posted. There will be photos up from Winnipeg eventually. As well, we will be travelling through areas with poor phone service. Please understand that if we aren’t responsive to emails, or aren’t blogging that we are ok—we just won’t have cell service. We experienced this last night where we camped, and we will likely experience the lack of cell service lots in the next 2 weeks.

In Ontario, and feeling happy,

-Skye

Day 28 – Winnipeg to the side of the highway in rural Manitoba – 80km

There was torrential rain when we woke. It was quite the sight, but it didn’t last long. Rather than dressing in full water-proof cycling gear as I usually would, I decided to wear jeans and a dress shirt. I also put on my leather dress shoes rather than my clip-in bike shoes. Seriously; I’m not kidding you.

We drove to the Deer Lodge Centre—where I had cycled yesterday from Portage la Prairie. No, I wasn’t going to bike dressed like that—as you may have guessed. Ben Adaman, the co-ordinator of the Communication Devices Program at Deer Lodge Centre, had organized an event for us. Gail and I presented Kilometres for Communication and moments from our journey to a room full of people—speech language pathologists, people who speak with AAC, communication assistants and other professionals affiliated with the Assistive Technology program at Deer Lodge.

The message on display at the Deer Lodge Centre promoting Kilometres. A quick phone photo taken after we noticed the message on our way out after the event.

Almost every time I speak in public, I get to a point when I talk about my motivation for Kilometres for Communication. Always, I talk about how I am frustrated when people talk around my brother, Kerr, by asking me questions that should be addressed to Kerr. Almost always, when I talk about this, I get an emotional reaction from someone in the audience who speaks with AAC. Clearly, inability is often assumed when it
shouldn’t be. On this day, it was Janine who had the reaction.

It was nice to meet Janine; she had written to us earlier in the year. As we’ve been meeting people who speak with AAC across the country, we’ve been asking them what they want to share, what they feel needs to change, and what they find some of the greatest barriers are. Janine brought up a question. “What about after high school?” Now, Janine is not in high school, she is older. What she is referring to is the lack of support for transition from high school.  There are many barriers which can make it difficult for someone who speaks in alternative ways to carry the momentum from one stage to the next. Janine’s story is on our website, so please, if you’re interested, do check that out.

I met a young woman by the name of Dorian at Deer Lodge. She can speak, but often it is not clear, so she needs a communication device for when she interacts with strangers or in circumstances such as using the phone. She told me one of the most absurd stories that I’ve heard so far on this trip. Dorian is originally from Brantford, Ontario. She went to a school where she was integrated. One day, they took her communication device away. They locked it in a closet. They didn’t want it to get broken. Yeah right. A similar thing happened to Kerr. A teacher once took away the switch that activates his communication device because she found the computer-generated voice annoying. Yes, these things happen, in Canada. It’s appalling. It’s shocking. It’s the equivalent to a teacher going up to any one of the students—even a good student who rarely talks—and saying: “I don’t like your voice, and I don’t really care for what you have to say, or what you think and feel, so I’m going to put this piece of duct tape over your mouth. You can take it off at the end of the day.” Dorian had other stories too. I hope they’ll be up on the Kilometres website sometime in the near future.

After the official event, several of us sat around talking. It was quite nice, but I was beginning to get anxious about the time. It was 3:30pm and I still needed to get on the road to pedal. We said our good byes, and I dressed up in my bike gear, and set off from the Deer Lodge Centre parking lot around 4pm. Winnipeg is not a bike friendly city to begin with. I didn’t see any bike lanes. The roads are bumpy and cracked. The motorists aren’t used to cyclists, so there is very little space left between the curb and vehicle, and people don’t check their blind spots. To make it worse, I was heading out in the rain, in rush hour. I’ve biked in the rain through the downtown core of Vancouver, Calgary, and Toronto. None of those came close to matching the agony of pedaling through Winnipeg that afternoon. Eventually, I made it out to the country. On this day, I officially left the Prairies. No more fields. No, there were deciduous forests; a welcome change in scenery. It was also nice to have the shelter from the wind. We ended up camping at the side of the road, literally in the middle of nowhere. We were tired, and that’s where we managed to get on that busy, rainy day.

-Skye

Day 27 – Portage la Prairie to Winnipeg, MB – 80km

I was expecting this to be a rest day—the first rest day since Calgary. I was lying in bed half-awake, the window open, and a gentle breeze flowing through. I eventually got out of bed, with the intent to get back into bed once I had gone to the bathroom. My body felt stiff and tired. For some lucky reason, I decided to check the weather. Chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon, rain and strong easterly winds all day the next day. The
forecast had changed. The sun and forecasted westerly had vanished. No more rest day. Get up! Get going! Gear on! Pedal to beat the storms; on to Winnipeg.

I was thoroughly annoyed with the weather again. Not only had it spoiled my rest, but we were also going to spend some more time with the Stewarts that day. Well, so be it. I pedaled the 80km, much of which, again, was headwind and cross-headwind. About 20km before Winnipeg, there were some really dark clouds. I could tell it was pouring buckets a few kilometres away. I felt rain. That gave me a bit of an adrenaline boost. For that final 20km, I raced the storm that never got me. I did get a partial rest day in the end—I was in Winnipeg by 3. However, it wasn’t a true rest day, there’s always a lot to catch up on.

I’m excited about our event at the Deer Lodge Centre in Winnipeg at 1:30pm…later today actually. After that I’m cycling to near the Ontario/Manitoba border, likely in rain. It’s 1:08am now. Bed time. The emails and other stuff will have to wait until another time.

-Skye

Day 25 – Grenfell, SK to Elkhorn, MB – 136km

Today was tough. The forecast predicted southeasterly winds for half the day and eventually changing to southwesterly winds or direct southerly winds later in the afternoon. The winds never changed in a favourable direction. I had a fairly harsh 25-30km/hr headwind for most of the day. It was also raining for most of today. It was sort of like biking against a pressure washer being directed at you from 50 feet away.

A blustery and rainy welcome to Manitoba

We had a lovely stay with our friends in Grenfell. It felt great to sleep in a real bed—to be able to sprawl out and stretch in my sleep. (I don’t have that luxury in our cramped camper—nor is my mattress much of a mattress.) We had a nice breakfast together, and then it was difficult to leave. I got on the road fairly late—around 11:30am. Aaron biked to Broadview with me (about 25km), so that was great. Time doesn’t seem to matter when you have a companion. At Broadview, he turned back, and I pedaled on.

Aaron, Nicolle, Winter, Me, Gail, Marley...in my procrastination stages of leaving

Tomorrow, there are supposed to be westerly winds; fingers crossed. I’m hoping to do a big day tomorrow, as it will hopefully be the first tailwind day of the trip. I’m going to keep the blog short tonight so I can rest up, wake up early tomorrow, and start pedaling early.

-Skye