I can't believe it's been almost two months since I posted. I need only look at the last date of my posting to determine the approximate time when life went from being busy to being ridiculous. Seriously, I feel like I've not had a spare moment to breathe in the last 6 weeks. Both my body and my mind are in disrepair due to the lack of care I have been showing them. Well, what can I say? Between the weddings, memorial, random visitors, trip to Ottawa/Kingston/MOntreal, stagette, bridal showers, work events, and general summertime fun there's been little time to chill and even less time to find my will...power.
I would write more, but it's 12.33 and I just finished watching three hours of the Olympic opening ceremonies...perhaps I'm not as busy as I'd like to believe?
AM going to try on bridesmaid dress now and cross my fingers it still fits....
'Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.' Robert Frost
Friday, August 08, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Tip to Tip - More Than Half Way to Somewhere
Saturday night I have the luxury of sleeping in my own bed. I took my bike on the bus back to Charlottetown as a precaution. Just in case I get no sleep, I want the option of taking the short trip on Sunday. It strikes me that my propensity to commit to something is entirely dependent on the circumstances and, perhaps, amount of alcohol I’ve consumed. It took me about two seconds to commit entirely to the idea of doing the Tip to Tip, but making up my mind about 40 kilometres of the trip seems a much more daunting decision. That being said, I knew even as I put my bike on the bus, that I would be doing the long haul on Sunday.
Sleep does not come easily in my own bed. I curse myself for thinking too much when I clearly needed sleep. Hurrah. I finally doze off and manage a good FOUR hours. The next morning, back at the Rodd we all pile onto the coach and made our way back to Emerald Junction. I plan to ride with Jen, but my impatience gets the better of me and so off I go on my own. I’m not alone for long though, as I fid myself in the company of Bob and a couple of other bikers. It’s an overcast morning, but the sun looks like it’s promising to make a breakthrough and the trail is kindly sloping down. Bob and I bike side by side, keeping a good pace until we hit the first snack break in Hunter River. Oh my goodness – I have discovered the second best cinnamon rolls on PEI - Kudos to the bakery in Hunter River, the name of which escapes me right now. Only Mary’s Bakery in Cornwall serves up comparable cinnamon rolls!
And then Bob & I are off again, climbing the hills of Hunter River en route to our lunch break in Winsloe. Bob is kitted out with an odometer and we clock varying speeds, depending on the grade. We hit 28 kph at one point, but then, at other points we are averaging about 18 kph. Oh, this is so much more fun than going nowhere on a treadmill at the gym!! We make it to the Winsloe United Church about twenty minutes after the service has begun. There are a couple of bikers already in the church, but most of the pack is behind us. We decide, after indulging in extra cinnamon rolls that appear in the back of the support vehicle, that we won’t be hungry at 11.30, when church gets out and the food is served. So Bob and I take off for the next pit stop, which is in Morrell. The sun is shining brightly now and we just want to keep moving along. It’s forty kilometres to Mount Stewart, where we plan to nip off the trail for a quick bite. The going is good, although I find the last few kilometres tough because my stomach is screaming out for food and I am rather dehydrated. Oh to have a camelback!
We stop at Josie’s Diner for lunch. It’s so typically a small town diner, with mediocre fare on offer and a church crowd leaving just as we come in, all sweaty and spandexy. About an hour later, with tummies filled up, Bob and I make our way to the trail to discover that some of the front riders have caught up with us. We ride as five, sporadically pulling. For anyone who is wondering – the trek from Mount Stewart to Morrell is kind of tough, thanks to a softer trail
We hit up the snack break in Morrell. A crowd of people is starting to gather – these are Adam’s friends and family. We are all headed up the trail a few kilometres to the most beautiful stretch of the trail, where a short ceremony will be held in honour of Adam Mermyus, a young man who rode the Tip to Tip and passed away in April of 2007 from an aggressive cancer. I think of Patrick, who counted Adam amongst his closest friends, and who is now in Korea teaching English. Patrick’s always had a love for living life to its fullest and that, I think, is the best way we can honour those who pass before their time – by realizing our dreams and giving every moment our fullest devotion.
That evening we eat well - a lobster dinner in St. Peter’s Bay Community Centre, followed by some great music by Chas Guy and friends. Extra entertainment provided by some of the Nova Scotia guys, most notably Ian whose dance moves rival those of the contestants on ‘So You Think You Can Dance’
Finally, finally, after a long day and fun-filled evening, we hit the sack. And I sleep a full 6 hours. It’s wonderful.
Sleep does not come easily in my own bed. I curse myself for thinking too much when I clearly needed sleep. Hurrah. I finally doze off and manage a good FOUR hours. The next morning, back at the Rodd we all pile onto the coach and made our way back to Emerald Junction. I plan to ride with Jen, but my impatience gets the better of me and so off I go on my own. I’m not alone for long though, as I fid myself in the company of Bob and a couple of other bikers. It’s an overcast morning, but the sun looks like it’s promising to make a breakthrough and the trail is kindly sloping down. Bob and I bike side by side, keeping a good pace until we hit the first snack break in Hunter River. Oh my goodness – I have discovered the second best cinnamon rolls on PEI - Kudos to the bakery in Hunter River, the name of which escapes me right now. Only Mary’s Bakery in Cornwall serves up comparable cinnamon rolls!
And then Bob & I are off again, climbing the hills of Hunter River en route to our lunch break in Winsloe. Bob is kitted out with an odometer and we clock varying speeds, depending on the grade. We hit 28 kph at one point, but then, at other points we are averaging about 18 kph. Oh, this is so much more fun than going nowhere on a treadmill at the gym!! We make it to the Winsloe United Church about twenty minutes after the service has begun. There are a couple of bikers already in the church, but most of the pack is behind us. We decide, after indulging in extra cinnamon rolls that appear in the back of the support vehicle, that we won’t be hungry at 11.30, when church gets out and the food is served. So Bob and I take off for the next pit stop, which is in Morrell. The sun is shining brightly now and we just want to keep moving along. It’s forty kilometres to Mount Stewart, where we plan to nip off the trail for a quick bite. The going is good, although I find the last few kilometres tough because my stomach is screaming out for food and I am rather dehydrated. Oh to have a camelback!
We stop at Josie’s Diner for lunch. It’s so typically a small town diner, with mediocre fare on offer and a church crowd leaving just as we come in, all sweaty and spandexy. About an hour later, with tummies filled up, Bob and I make our way to the trail to discover that some of the front riders have caught up with us. We ride as five, sporadically pulling. For anyone who is wondering – the trek from Mount Stewart to Morrell is kind of tough, thanks to a softer trail
We hit up the snack break in Morrell. A crowd of people is starting to gather – these are Adam’s friends and family. We are all headed up the trail a few kilometres to the most beautiful stretch of the trail, where a short ceremony will be held in honour of Adam Mermyus, a young man who rode the Tip to Tip and passed away in April of 2007 from an aggressive cancer. I think of Patrick, who counted Adam amongst his closest friends, and who is now in Korea teaching English. Patrick’s always had a love for living life to its fullest and that, I think, is the best way we can honour those who pass before their time – by realizing our dreams and giving every moment our fullest devotion.
That evening we eat well - a lobster dinner in St. Peter’s Bay Community Centre, followed by some great music by Chas Guy and friends. Extra entertainment provided by some of the Nova Scotia guys, most notably Ian whose dance moves rival those of the contestants on ‘So You Think You Can Dance’
Finally, finally, after a long day and fun-filled evening, we hit the sack. And I sleep a full 6 hours. It’s wonderful.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Tip to Tip - A Spirited Adventure of Spandex and Generosity
DAY TWO OF FOUR
I cannot sleep. For the love of me, I cannot sleep. I spend the majority of the night tossing and turning, sneaking peeks at the bedside clock. At one point I even pull my sheets off the bed and try out the floor. Sleeping is normally not a problem for me – I’m good to go once I’ve put my earplugs in and turned the light out. Fred’s company also helps, but there wasn’t room for him in my suitcase. Sigh. This is not good. Eventually, I give up trying to get a full night’s sleep and promise myself I will make it through whatever the next day brings. I finally fall to sleep somewhere around 4.00 a.m.
The next morning brings more grey clouds and cool temperatures – the silver lining is that the winds are light. I wish I drank coffee. I really do. I sit down to breakfast with Derek Lawther, one of the veterans on the trip, who has taken it upon himself to share the ‘Top Ten Things You Really Didn’t Want to Know About Me’ with the group during the weekend. Last night we learned he has only had one cup of coffee in his life. Yes, yes us non-coffee drinkers secretly like to think we are superior in our abstinence of a caffeine-induced morning pick-me-up. Except on those mornings after a night of no sleep, then we just curse and grumble a lot and search for a vending machine that sells chocolate bars.
Jen and I are the last of the group to head off from Mill River. This, surprisingly, is not because I am sluggish. Truth be told, after a few chocolate almonds, I feel mighty and strong – ready to conquer the trails. If only Jen could crawl out of bed...a morning person she is not. So we head off at 8.10, with our shepherd, Bruce, and Geoff, the bike mechanic with the pink bunny horn and T-shirt that reads ‘Bicycles Can Save The Planet’. Early into our ride Jen stops to take horse pictures, and my impatience sets in. I want to get to lunch! So off I go alone. Along the way I encounter a hare on the trail and chat with other riders. I’m surprised when I catch up with other bikers, I didn’t think we’d see any of them until lunch, but Bruce did say we were doing a good pace when we left the hotel. Eventually Jen catches up to me and we ride into our lunch stop together. Brrrr. Everyone is freezing and the warm chicken fricot served up at the Wellington Community Centre is a godsend to the starving, shivering group of bikers that descend upon it. Yummy biscuits and plates of delectable sweets complete the deal. Based on what we’ve been fed so far, I determine I will not be losing any weight during this trip. (Insert lame attempt at foreshadowing - little do I know then what devastation the scales will bring me on completion of the four-day trip…)
I want to be closer to the front of the pack – more specifically I want to be at the Boxcar Lounge in Emerald Junction before it starts raining, preferably with a beer in my hand. I head out with some of the first in the group, it’s 39 kilometres to our next break – the Frosty Treat in Kensington. I find myself biking with Jeff and Ryan. We draft most of the stretch to Summerside, with Jeff doing the lion’s share of the pulling. I am smitten with this thing called drafting, it makes pedalling so much easier (up to 30% apparently). We take an unscheduled break at the Cows in Summerside, where Cynthia and Derek are enjoying ice cream cones at staff prices. We indulge as well, and then head back out on the trail. That’s when we discover what headwinds are really made of and the going gets a bit rough. The trek from Summerside to Kensington is all grind, grind, grind. It’s unrelenting, there is no shelter from the wind and as we crisscross over Route 2, I fantasize about getting on the highway and going the quick and easy way. Thank goodness Jeff is there to keep me in line and pull me along.
I have been waiting for fatigue to hit all morning and afternoon, but it does not come. I am filled with gratitude to my body for giving me all it has and to my mind for sticking with the program on only three hours of rest. I am keeping the promise I made to myself in the wee hours of my sleepless night – I will get through whatever today brings.
A short break in Kensington, then Jeff and I are off again, trying to beat the dark storm clouds to the Boxcar Lounge. 19 kilometres later we are ordering up drinks and warming up beside the propane fireplace. The cheers grow louder with each cyclist that comes through the doors. And then it starts raining and we hear that someone has been injured. Kim braked really quickly and flew over her handlebars. She’s OK, a bit bruised and battered, but nothing broken, thankfully. Finally, everyone comes in from the rain and we climb on the bus to Charlottetown, where warm showers and a banquet evening await us.
Mom and Jim join me for the banquet dinner. It’s so nice to see their smiling faces at the halfway point. Some familiarity in the midst of unfamiliarity is reassuring to say the least. Dinner is followed by an auction of South African goods generously donated by Don Wagner, a professor at the School of Business who has been on sabbatical in South Africa working with micro-financing groups for the last year. I watch tables filled with people who were strangers 36 hours ago, laughing together and bidding each other up on items made halfway around the world and purchased by a former Tip-to-Tipper and PEI resident. I amreminded that there are no boundaries in this world, except the ones we set. Friendships can be forged on bike trails, and neighbours can help neighbours half a world away. We need only open our minds and our hearts to the idea of living in a world without boundaries and we will find ourselves richly rewarded. So give it a try, I dare you!
I cannot sleep. For the love of me, I cannot sleep. I spend the majority of the night tossing and turning, sneaking peeks at the bedside clock. At one point I even pull my sheets off the bed and try out the floor. Sleeping is normally not a problem for me – I’m good to go once I’ve put my earplugs in and turned the light out. Fred’s company also helps, but there wasn’t room for him in my suitcase. Sigh. This is not good. Eventually, I give up trying to get a full night’s sleep and promise myself I will make it through whatever the next day brings. I finally fall to sleep somewhere around 4.00 a.m.
The next morning brings more grey clouds and cool temperatures – the silver lining is that the winds are light. I wish I drank coffee. I really do. I sit down to breakfast with Derek Lawther, one of the veterans on the trip, who has taken it upon himself to share the ‘Top Ten Things You Really Didn’t Want to Know About Me’ with the group during the weekend. Last night we learned he has only had one cup of coffee in his life. Yes, yes us non-coffee drinkers secretly like to think we are superior in our abstinence of a caffeine-induced morning pick-me-up. Except on those mornings after a night of no sleep, then we just curse and grumble a lot and search for a vending machine that sells chocolate bars.
Jen and I are the last of the group to head off from Mill River. This, surprisingly, is not because I am sluggish. Truth be told, after a few chocolate almonds, I feel mighty and strong – ready to conquer the trails. If only Jen could crawl out of bed...a morning person she is not. So we head off at 8.10, with our shepherd, Bruce, and Geoff, the bike mechanic with the pink bunny horn and T-shirt that reads ‘Bicycles Can Save The Planet’. Early into our ride Jen stops to take horse pictures, and my impatience sets in. I want to get to lunch! So off I go alone. Along the way I encounter a hare on the trail and chat with other riders. I’m surprised when I catch up with other bikers, I didn’t think we’d see any of them until lunch, but Bruce did say we were doing a good pace when we left the hotel. Eventually Jen catches up to me and we ride into our lunch stop together. Brrrr. Everyone is freezing and the warm chicken fricot served up at the Wellington Community Centre is a godsend to the starving, shivering group of bikers that descend upon it. Yummy biscuits and plates of delectable sweets complete the deal. Based on what we’ve been fed so far, I determine I will not be losing any weight during this trip. (Insert lame attempt at foreshadowing - little do I know then what devastation the scales will bring me on completion of the four-day trip…)
I want to be closer to the front of the pack – more specifically I want to be at the Boxcar Lounge in Emerald Junction before it starts raining, preferably with a beer in my hand. I head out with some of the first in the group, it’s 39 kilometres to our next break – the Frosty Treat in Kensington. I find myself biking with Jeff and Ryan. We draft most of the stretch to Summerside, with Jeff doing the lion’s share of the pulling. I am smitten with this thing called drafting, it makes pedalling so much easier (up to 30% apparently). We take an unscheduled break at the Cows in Summerside, where Cynthia and Derek are enjoying ice cream cones at staff prices. We indulge as well, and then head back out on the trail. That’s when we discover what headwinds are really made of and the going gets a bit rough. The trek from Summerside to Kensington is all grind, grind, grind. It’s unrelenting, there is no shelter from the wind and as we crisscross over Route 2, I fantasize about getting on the highway and going the quick and easy way. Thank goodness Jeff is there to keep me in line and pull me along.
I have been waiting for fatigue to hit all morning and afternoon, but it does not come. I am filled with gratitude to my body for giving me all it has and to my mind for sticking with the program on only three hours of rest. I am keeping the promise I made to myself in the wee hours of my sleepless night – I will get through whatever today brings.
A short break in Kensington, then Jeff and I are off again, trying to beat the dark storm clouds to the Boxcar Lounge. 19 kilometres later we are ordering up drinks and warming up beside the propane fireplace. The cheers grow louder with each cyclist that comes through the doors. And then it starts raining and we hear that someone has been injured. Kim braked really quickly and flew over her handlebars. She’s OK, a bit bruised and battered, but nothing broken, thankfully. Finally, everyone comes in from the rain and we climb on the bus to Charlottetown, where warm showers and a banquet evening await us.
Mom and Jim join me for the banquet dinner. It’s so nice to see their smiling faces at the halfway point. Some familiarity in the midst of unfamiliarity is reassuring to say the least. Dinner is followed by an auction of South African goods generously donated by Don Wagner, a professor at the School of Business who has been on sabbatical in South Africa working with micro-financing groups for the last year. I watch tables filled with people who were strangers 36 hours ago, laughing together and bidding each other up on items made halfway around the world and purchased by a former Tip-to-Tipper and PEI resident. I amreminded that there are no boundaries in this world, except the ones we set. Friendships can be forged on bike trails, and neighbours can help neighbours half a world away. We need only open our minds and our hearts to the idea of living in a world without boundaries and we will find ourselves richly rewarded. So give it a try, I dare you!
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