Things fell together just right for a ride out to the 1000 Islands in Eastern Ontario. My lovely wife had a conference in Ottawa, so we spent the weekend before where Lake Ontario empties into the St Lawrence Seaway. This meant, for the first time, I had a support vehicle! The panniers and top-box all went in the back of the car and I got to ride light and solo. It also meant I had a vehicle that could take pictures of me riding.
I'd dialed back the rear suspension for a single rider, so the Tiger was more compliant. The weather was, as it has been for weeks, sunny and very hot. It wasn't so bad in the morning, but by noon it was sweat-box hot. We dodged around the GTA, not trusting the crumbling infrastructure, overcrowded roads and distracted yet aggressive drivers. Traffic was light and moving well north of the city on a summer, Saturday morning. We stopped briefly in Schomberg at Main Street Powersports for a quick stretch and look around what may be one of the most eclectic motorcycle shops in Ontario before pushing on into the heat. Bypassing Newmarket, we found mostly empty roads as we wound our way down to Uxbridge where we stopped for a second breakfast/early lunch at Urban Pantry (having a foodie and professional researcher driving your support vehicle has big benefits!). Every time I got off the bike it was that much hotter suiting up again. It was just past noon when we finished lunch and the air temperature was in the mid-thirties with humidity pushing it well into the forties. It was just bearable in motion so we quickly got moving. Pushing down to the 401 meant more traffic, but once on the highway we made quick time and the hot wind was better than stagnant air at traffic lights. My support vehicle pulled off at Port Hope where we discovered a lovely, old downtown during a hydration stop. I thought it would be nice to take the old King's Highway (Lakeshore Road) along to Prince Edward County where we were going to check out some wineries and Sandbanks Provincial Park. At first this seemed like a bad idea as we were constantly stopped at traffic lights through never ending box store/strip malls in Coburg, but soon enough we left the last remnants of the GTA behind and found ourselves on a winding old highway that kept Lake Ontario in sight to our right. Crossing the Murray Canal Bridge, we entered Prince Edward County, which immediately impresses with a relaxed island vibe. Following wine and arts tour signs we meandered across the island enjoying light traffic and a stop at Sandbanks Winery, which not only had some wines on hand that you can't get through retail, but also appeared to be where all the pretty girls go to drink on a Saturday. The bachelorette party looked to be well along at two in the afternoon. They jumped into a shuttle and were driven to the next winery, which was about five hundred feet down the road. They must have looked like a train wreck the next morning. We rode into the afternoon, stopping at The Duke of Wellington Pub for a much needed cool down and hydration. The view off the deck into the harbour was lovely, as was being out of the relentless sun for a while. It was a short ride to Sandbanks Park, but getting in was tricky. After waiting in line for ten minutes I pulled up with the car and said I'd just park in the same spot as the car since were all here as a group, but the kid at the gate didn't know what to do about that and spent ten minutes calling people to ask what he should do... while I stood there on the bike on 50°C tarmac. He finally told us we had to pay two full vehicle admissions. It's things like this that make motorcycling in Ontario that much harder than it needs to be. We're not the same as cars or the massive SUVs most people like to drive around in, we don't require the same space or resources, but rather than honour that Ontario seems to do everything it can to ignore it. The park itself was nice and the dunes that make it famous looked like something out of the Caribbean. We stuck around for a couple of hours and even went for a swim to cool off. If you walk down the beach a bit the crowds let up and it's possible to find some quiet space to relax. Back on the road with sand in my everywhere and sweating freely, I was starting to feel this ride. Into the lengthening shadows we went, pushing across the length of Prince Edward County toward Kingston. I felt like I was in a sandwich press, the setting sun and the tarmac both pressing in the heat.
A welcome break came at the Glenora Ferry, which takes you from Prince Edward back to the mainland for free and runs every fifteen minutes in the summer. It's only a ten minute crossing, but it's a pretty one with beautiful views up and down the straights. The line up was a welcome fifteen minute break from the saddle that gave me time to change into some cooler jeans. Once on the ferry you can wander around and see the sights. Before you know it you're firing up the bike ready to go again. If you have to get to Kingston from Prince Edward County in the summer, go the Glenora way!
The temperature finally began to abate as I rode away from the ferry. Shadows got even longer and the bugs began to thwack off my helmet. We dodged and weaved across southern Lennox County, eventually finding our way onto the 401 just outside of Kingston. A stop for gas had the Tiger using 19.7 litres to travel 412kms. That's 4.78l/100kms or 49.2 miles per gallon on everything from urban stop and go to fast highway riding. Considering it's expected to get about 40mpg, I'm really happy with those numbers.
It might have been dehydration and heat stroke, but the final ride into the 1000 Islands was pretty magical!
After a stop for dinner in Kingston we got back on the highway for the final forty-five minutes to Gananoque and our hotel in the Thousand Islands. The sun was well down and the air temperature had dropped. Stars filled the sky and heat boiled out of the sun baked pavement. Tucked in behind the windshield as I thundered down the dark highway, it felt as though I was riding through VanGogh's Starry Night. We pulled in to the Glen House Resort just past 10pm. I immediately took a cold shower and flaked out on the bed.
Tree shade just outside of Newmarket
Downtown Port Hope, lovely!
Next to Lake Ontario in Sandbanks Provincial Park, where bikes pay the same parking costs as six thousand pound SUVs.
Making long shadows as the sun sets in Lennox County.
It's just past 8am on day one of the ride. Even this early in the morning it's already in the mid-twenties and the sun is relentless. The padding I thought I'd try in my helmet was a bad idea, and by the time I reach Creemore I'm working on a full scale headache. Thirty seconds after we stop the Roof lid is back to normal and it works like a champ for the rest of the trip. Motorcycle gear is an ongoing process of fine tuning, especially when you mess around with something that already works.
This trip grew out of a friend's cross country anniversary ride with his wife on his new-to-him Goldwing. We were originally going to drop down to the ferry on Manitoulin Island for the ride home after day one, but the ferry is booked solid during the day so I started looking at another way home. Having never been to Northern Michigan, it seemed like a good idea to wrap around Lake Huron. It's just over 1500kms of wilderness riding with few people in between.
The goodbye in Creemore went long as we'd been accompanied by friends out that far, so we got back on the road just as the sun was going fully nuclear. Day One was the longest of our trip, five hundred kilometres around Georgian Bay up to the small town of Massey, Ontario. A gas and lunch stop in Perry Sound followed by a couple of road side stops along the way made the heat bearable with lots of consuming of liquids at each stop. You know it's hot when you're sweating freely at highway speeds.
Mohawk Motel: clean, cheap & odd!
We rolled into the Mohawk Motel in Massey just past 4pm. The grass was brown and crisp, just like us. The motel was basic but clean with air conditioning. Everyone cold showered and relaxed for a while before we wandered out into town only to discover that the only restaurant was closed early due to it being hot. We were told to walk down the street to a variety store that also doubled as the local fast food joint. Forty five minutes of waiting in forty degree heat later I'd paid forty bucks for a cheeseburger, fries and a couple of slices of pizza. We staggered back to the hotel and called it a day. The next morning Massey totally redeemed itself with a fantastic breakfast at the Back Home Bistro. As we finished up the eggs and bacon, rain moved in. It was still in the mid-twenties, but humid and wet. We rode into heavier and heavier rain as we traveled west over the top of Georgian Bay. A brief stop in Blind River to check on my stoic pillion had us bump into a couple doing a similar route to our Huron circumnavigation; it wasn't the last time we'd meet them. The rain came and went before finally relenting as we rode into Sault Ste. Marie. We parted ways after a surprisingly excellent and cost effective lunch at Pino's Supermarket where you can get a brick oven baked pizza and amazing sausage on a bun for next to nothing.
Jeff & MA were on their way to Wawa up on Lake Superior, while Max and I were headed over to the border crossing into Northern Michigan. After a day and half together we'd made good time, covered a lot of ground in all sorts of weather and everyone still had smiles on their faces (a good Italian lunch helped there). After a quick goodbye we saddled up and headed over to the bridge only to bump into the couple from Blind River again. We followed them up onto the bridge to discover a massive line up. Inching a fully loaded two-up bike five feet at a time up the side of a suspension bridge is about as much fun as it gets. Fortunately we had a great view of the river beneath us. Sault Ste Marie is one of those places that reminds you just how big the great lakes are. In the hour plus we were inching our way over that bridge I tried to imagine the tons and tons of water that rushed beneath us out of Superior and into Huron, it feels very powerful and boggles the mind. A highlight of the interminable wait was getting to the peak of the bridge. From that point up until the customs gates we were going downhill, so the bikes stayed off and in neutral as we glided forward, inches at a time. As I said to our doppelgangers, 'at least it isn't yesterday!' That bridge on a forty degree sunny day would be unhealthy. My magic power kicked in at the split into lines for each gate. Which ever one I pick will immediately stop, and of course it did. The couple ahead of us were down the interstate a good fifteen minutes ahead of us while we sat there pondering karma, or just plain old bad luck.
Once finally freed into Michigan we headed south into the tail end of some very violent
thunderstorms. The mist became rain, and then strong winds came up out of west. It was an hour of tacking against the wind down i75 to St. Ignace and The Breaker's Resort. We got in about 4pm drenched and weary after a long day in the rain broken up by the better part of two hours crossing the border in five foot increments. Java Joes provided a first class milkshake and coffee before we headed over to check in. They weren't ready for us, but housekeeping did back flips to get us into the room ASAP.
We enjoyed the hot tub and pool, but Breakers is a family resort, kind of like Disney World but with a great lake instead of mice. If you like screaming, unmanaged children and drunk, indifferent parents on smartphones, this place is for you. Max and I vacated the pool in a flurry of OCD after a kid pretended to be vomiting water out over and over again. Dinner was takeout pizza from Java Joes, and it was exceptional. With everything scattered around the room in a vain attempt to dry it out, we crashed on the beds and watched Seth Macfarlane cartoons as the fog rolled in outside. After two days and the better part of a thousand kilometres on the road, we were both pretty knackered. We woke up early in backwards world to blue skies and the sun rising out of Lake Huron (the sun goes to sleep in Huron where we're from). A savoury breakfast of heavily processed meat pucks and bad coffee with large Americans eating all they could while watching Trump speeches on FoxTV (we are far from home my son), had us ready to hit the road. I wiped down the trusty Tiger and we loaded up for a day that was more about exploring than making distance (though it eventually turned into both - you're always making distance if you're trying to get around a great lake). After a quick fill up and a slow ride around St. Ignace's lovely harbour, we got onto the interstate and headed for the Mackinac Bridge, it was spectacular:
The Mackinac Bridge is worth the ride!
We took our border-buddies' advice and headed over to the Tunnel of Trees. This put us on the shore of yet another Great Lake (Lake Michigan). The micro-climate on the west shore of Michigan's northern peninsula produces fast growth. As you ride onto that side of the peninsula everything is super green and the trees get Pandora big. The M-119 is a twisty little blacktop that runs through those forests along the shore. It's barely two lanes wide with no curbs or runoff. You need to keep your eyes on the narrow lane, but you're never moving that quickly. Surrounded by a sea of green, you quickly get into a meditative mood. The Tiger can be whisper quiet when it wants to be, and we purred through that green cathedral in near silence.
You can't help but get that look on your face on the M-119.
We ended up getting redirected off the tunnel road due to construction and never found our way back. We eventually got to Petoskey, which I was interested in seeing because it was where Earnest Hemingway used to spend his summers as a child. It's box stores and hotels bent under the weight of lots of tourists nowadays. If Hemingway were to return, I'm not sure much of it would ring a bell. Out of the heat in a McDonalds at lunch we ran into our doppelgangers again. They suggested an alternate route out of Petoskey and we wished each other a safe trip once again. A short time later one of the retirees working there walked up to chat about bikes, he had a big old Harley in the lot and couldn't identify the Tiger. When I told him it was a Triumph he got the same happy, nostalgic expression that a lot of people did when I told them what we were riding. There is a lot of good will and nostalgia around the marquee in the States. On the road again we struck east across the peninsula aiming for Alpena on the Huron coast, but between the heat, increasing traffic and the strong westerly winds, we were both losing the will to get there. We turned south on 65 and wound our way through Huron National Forest, stopping for an ice cream in Glennie. The lovely young lady who served us told of her hours spent horseback riding the day before, then three local farmers came in for a cone and were curious about the Triumph. It was all very nice. When we left she came out to her car that had a big 'Vote Trump' bumper sticker on it. I found it hard to reconcile how nice Americans were with the insane politics they practice.
Old Detroit charm - built back in the day when the motor city was a world traveller destination, the Bay Valley Resort reminds of the golden years.
When we finally turned onto 23 heading back out to the interstate I gave a barbaric yawp in my helmet, as it felt like we'd never get there. The final blast down the interstate in 60km/hr cross winds was performed using shear will power. We staggered in to the Bay Valley Resort after nine hours and over 450kms on the road in strong winds and relentless heat. Bay Valley Resort was a real treat. Cheaper than Breakers, but better in every way. If you like modern hotels, this isn't for you, but if you like character, Bay Valley has oodles. The doors are made out of wood (!), and the entire resort is situated in the middle of a golf course. It's much more adult orientated, but it had all the accoutrements my son loves. The pool is an indoor/outdoor design with a river between them, and the spa was a hard hitting jet affair with strong bubbles perfect for loosening up sore muscles after a long day in the wind. The whole thing was set into patterned concrete. The on-site restaurant was swathed in dark wood and was both classy and dated, I loved it! The food was chef prepared but priced very reasonably. We fell asleep feeling well cared for in the silence of a golf course at night - no sounds of screaming children anywhere. We woke up the next morning and hit the pool one last time. Max wasn't keen to mount up for yet another day on the road. Day one had been a high mileage sweat box, day 2 a rainy, windy ride with an interminable border wait, and day 3 was a high mileage meander across the peninsula in heat and high winds. We were both tired, and having to get my pillion in motion made it even heavier. After a late breakfast we finally got on the road just before 11am and I made a command decision to take the Interstate rather than head over to the coast on another back road ride. No wind and less heat made our interstate jaunt through poor, old Flint, Michigan a relatively painless affair. Flint feels like a ghost town at the best of times, but this year it felt abandoned. We stopped at a rest stop on the i69 on the way to the Canadian border when Max got a leg cramp, but otherwise high-tailed it home.
Distracted Stratford drivers put that look on my face.
It took all of five minutes to line up and cross the border back into Sarnia. Heading into The States was misery, coming home was a dream. We stopped in Sarnia for lunch and then hit the bricks for the final ride home. We thundered up the 402 on the long legged Tiger before angling off toward Stratford on back roads. After over sixteen hundred kilometres of riding, much of it through wilderness, it was the ride through Stratford and its dithering, well dressed theatre patrons that was the most dangerous. We were cut off and almost run over by people less worried about killing us than they were making their curtain call. It was the only moment on the trip that I was tempted to chase someone down in order to thump them.
Back in the stable after a flawless 1600+kms ride, what a champ!
We finally pulled into the driveway just before 6pm, sore but elated. The ride had its challenges, but the memories made were keepers. The road into Sault Ste. Marie is lovely and surprisingly mountainous. The Mackinac Bridge is a must-do experience, and riding down the tunnel of trees is like attending the best church ever. Java Joes makes a good food stop and Bay Valley Resort is a forgotten gem worth staying at if you're in the area. All in all it was a great adventure, albeit a trying one. Sometimes, usually when it's least comfortable, I wonder why I'm doing this to myself, but the memories sort out the discomfort from the awesome, and the awesome always wins.
Riding the Tunnel of Trees road in northern Michigan http://www.motorcycleroads.com/75/309/Michigan/Tunnel-of-Trees-Road.html#sthash.BxFBBpqw.dpbs - Spherical Image - RICOH THETA
We're looking at a few days in The Thousand Islands at the end of Lake Ontario before my wife goes to a conference and my son and I head home. Fortunately, between here and there lie some of the best riding roads in Ontario. I finally get a chance to Ride the Highlands! The ride out is going to be an avoid the GTA at all costs exercise (like most things are). Other than getting pinched in Newmarket, it should be a straight shot across the top of population. Port Perry is nice and once I'm past Peterborough, Highway 7 is a winding ride into Canadian Shield. Where I drop off Highway 7 at Mountain Grove and cut down to the godforsaken 401 looks like a roller coaster of a road. A quick blast (no such thing any more) down the 401 should finish the trip at Gananoque where I'll meet up with the family and we'll hang out for a couple of days.
The Ride Back is an even greater attempt to avoid the GTA, but this time with a find the twisty roads vibe. Using ridethehighlands.ca I linked together a series of suggested roads to get my son and I back to South Western Ontario in the lest efficient but most pleasurable manner possible. We meander north west from the east end of Lake Ontario before finally cutting south around the end of Georgian Bay. If we leave Tuesday morning, we'll overnight somewhere around Haliburton before finishing up the ride on Wednesday.
All told it should be about 1300kms of riding some of Ontario's best roads.
I'm at it again. Wanderlust, but with my trusty production crew this time. North and West and then back again with the least amount of same roads:
I must have some kind of strange OCD, but I really enjoyed putting this together:
With scheduled production crew meetups and travelling together from Prince Rupert to Vancouver Island and back to Vancouver, it turns into a 41 day ride schedule with a 36 day production schedule. The production team (Max & Alanna) have 8 flights spread over the 36 days they are on the road. This would be an opportunity to collect video and develop a cross Canada story from a lot of different angles. The production team would collect stock footage of the various regions we're in and save footage and data off the bike at meetups. They'll then backup all data including footage and keep it safe. I also hope they'd maybe develop their own stories in the process. The goal of the production will to use the latest in digital tools to record the trip, eventually producing a variety of media out of it. My goal would be a written story of a long distance, cross Canada, endurance motorcycle ride with photography to support a book. I'd also then look to turn the ride into an episodic travel TV show.
Tools We'd be using
A 360° camera for experiential video. I used a Ricoh Theta 360° camera a few weeks ago and was impressed with the results. I'm not sure how we'd integrate this video into a media piece, but it would open the door to exploring virtual reality, which feels like the next big thing. The lack of a single point of view makes for challenging post production, as does the huge amount of data it collects. ThetaS: $450 The 360fly could be another choice.
A Contour action camera on the bike. I used this last fall and found its small profile ideal for collecting video from a motorcycle. The upper scale model allows memory and battery swap-outs, making it ideal for shooting on long days. I'd have one wired in to the bike so it could keep shooting for footage we could use in high speed video. When things get really rough up north, this will keep collecting footage when others fail. Conour+2: $430 The Olympus Tough TG-Tracker might be an interesting alternative. I'm partial to Olympus Cameras. In addition to the video camera on the bike, I'd also carry an Olympus OM-D E-M1 DSLR for photography. It's weatherproof and tough, takes a wide variety of lenses (I'd carry a tele-zoom, 2x teleconverter and super wide angle with me). Backup batteries and memory cards mean it'll keep going all day. Olympus OM-D E-M1: body & lenses $2800
The production team would carry a pro-quality DSLR camera for shooting highest quality video. The Canon EOS 70D is generally considered the top DSLR for video. With proper video LED lighting, tripod and on camera and interview mics this kit would collect top quality video and sound. Multiple battery and memory cards mean it can keep shooting on long days.
Multiple microphones (on camera and clip on interview), a teleconverter and a wide angle lens along with the 18-135mm lens would cover pretty much every eventuality. Canon EOS 70D with accessories: $1700
Another leading edge tool for this trip would be an aerial drone to take fantastic establishing shots. The DJI Phantom 4 is a Canadian made aerial camera platform that produces astonishing video footage. Its 28 minute flight time mean it could be used on multiple flights and recharged in the camera truck between flights. Phantom4 with spare batteries & case: $2300 $30k seems like a good price for generating a wide variety of footage that could eventually be made into multiple cross country stories of epic proportions! Now to find a producer and some corporate support. My logo-ed dream team would be:
I'd dialed back the rear suspension for a single rider, so the Tiger was more compliant. The weather was, as it has been for weeks, sunny and very hot. It wasn't so bad in the morning, but by noon it was sweat-box hot.
Every time I got off the bike it was that much hotter suiting up again. It was just past noon when we finished lunch and the air temperature was in the mid-thirties with humidity pushing it well into the forties. It was just bearable in motion so we quickly got moving. Pushing down to the 401 meant more traffic, but once on the highway we made quick time and the hot wind was better than stagnant air at traffic lights.
It was a short ride to Sandbanks Park, but getting in was tricky. After waiting in line for ten minutes I pulled up with the car and said I'd just park in the same spot as the car since were all here as a group, but the kid at the gate didn't know what to do about that and spent ten minutes calling people to ask what he should do... while I stood there on the bike on 50°C tarmac. He finally told us we had to pay two full vehicle admissions. It's things like this that make motorcycling in Ontario that much harder than it needs to be. We're not the same as cars or the massive SUVs most people like to drive around in, we don't require the same space or resources, but rather than honour that Ontario seems to do everything it can to ignore it.
A welcome break came at the Glenora Ferry, which takes you from Prince Edward back to the mainland for free and runs every fifteen minutes in the summer. It's only a ten minute crossing, but it's a pretty one with beautiful views up and down the straights.
