Steve´s Adventures

Greetings Long Lost Friends!

2009-04-09T17:25:00.000-07:00

Hello
Yes, I do realize it has been a year since I last wrote on here. Many adventures have been had and many more miles logged. I have been in a jaded and disconnected relationship with the internet and have been trying to stay off it. This may not change in the future, but I think I should let you all know that I am still alive and moving. A lot has changed since I last wrote.

A Short synopsis of my adventures is as such:
- Upon arriving home to Hinton, Alberta, I met some German girls and and after 2 weeks, the 3 of us departed on a journey to Alaska in the late fall.
- While in Alaska some events compounded each other and we 3 had a falling out and I was left in Fairbanks, Alaska.
- I stuck out my thumb once again and left as the snow began to fall, making my way south, back to Whitehorse, Yukon, and Dawson City, where i spent a few weeks.
- The Ferry from Skagway, Alaska took me back to Prince Rupert, BC and a long bus ride dropped me in Vancouver, BC.
- From there I hitched up to Whistler, BC. I found a small cabin in the woods there, got a job, and lived rent free for 7 months, until April 23, 2008.
- I made a marathon dash from Whistler to Hinton in 17 hours (1 Full day) to make it home for my 20th birthday and departed soon after on May 1st bound for Nelson.
- I started working on Organic farms here and had an interesting experience with a group called the 12 tribes. interesting people. Nelson is a beautiful place.
- From Nelson i went back to Whistler, met my Brother, Geoff, and we took off to the Juan de Fuca and West coast Trails for 2 weeks of hiking 170 KM.
- After the Trails we met another Organic farm called Medicine farm near Ucluelet, BC and i stayed with them for 2 and half months. Here I met a beautiful woman named Serena, who is becoming a constant presence in my mind.
- After the farm, i took the ferry to Prince Rupert again and then to Haida Gwaii, an archipelago off the BC coast for just over 2 months of Chanterelle Mushroom picking in amazing second growth forests. Once again running into Serena.
- Back to vanouver island briefly via Nelson and victoria, to the farm before returning to vancouver to meet Serena.
- She drove me to Manning park to meet my Brother and I hitched the rest of the way to Sylvan Lake, Alberta. Here I am now. This winter i got a job at a rock climbing gym, and have been working and living for the last 6 months. I am almost ready to go again. in 11 days i pack up another bike and head to Vancouver, The Island, several festivals and all kinds of adventures.
The reasons for coming to Alberta and leaving the woman I love in BC are many. Among them was the opportunity to see my mom once again, having not seen her or my sisters much in the last few years. Also, I attended a meditation course during the new year called Vipassana, and it has been a truly life changing experience. My life is balanced and full of LOVE! Upon getting the job as a rock climbing instructor, I was "volun-told" that i would be working a 10 week kids camp for rock climbing, which just ended this week. I had the opportunity to work with tons of little ones from the ages of 5-15, teaching them to rock climb, as well as getting a lot of hours in on the rock wall. I am looking forward to a summer of bouldering about in BC. Good times ahead.
So, the climbing courses finished, I am now gearing up to leave again. The bicycle has been calling me ever since I left it. I still remember the glorious freedom of the road, and look forward to sharing it with someone I love. I will email again sometime soon, after I leave with some adventures. When i am on the internet, I frequent Facebook more than anything, so look for me there.
Blessings of Freedom, Peace, Love and eternal Bliss to you all. talk to you soon
Steve Fox

#22 The Long Road Home

2007-09-07T11:16:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don’t know, I have returned to Canada. I am now in Edmonton, Alberta, quite safe and sound. My bike trip may have come to a premature end, but the traveling will not be stopping soon. Sorry I haven’t updated in a long time, but I have been short of time and computers in the process of getting home. Here’s the story:

My friend told me about a beach party, and as you may have guessed, I accepted this invitation. I hitchhiked out to a town called Villa Rica on the Gulf coast, just north of Veracruz. I arrived in the late afternoon as the sun was setting with some other random hitchhikers I met on the road. We soon had a cold beer and a swim to kill the heat of the day, and my other friends arrived shortly after.

On the second night of this several day beach party there was an incredible storm. First it was lightning like I have never seen it before, hundreds of shocks. Then the wind picked up and the rain pelted down. Some of us decided to go for a skinny dip and left our clothes on the beach, which may have been a mistake because I now no longer have a pair of pants. It is in the ocean I assume…and in my pants was my wallet…in my wallet was all my money and identification…

The next day, quite poor I headed back to Jalapa. I phoned home and told my family of my dilemma. My mom naturally offered to pay for a plane ticket home. I could have been home 4 months ago if I had taken up her offer, but instead, not out of pride but out of the opportunity to experience what it is like to be so humble, I turned down such an offer. Really just to see if I could do it, I set out to make my way home, pesoless.

My last week in Jalapa was spent working on the street, selling the jewelry I learned how to make there with fellow Artisanos. This proved itself useless so like in all times of crisis I made cookies. Seriously, I went to a friend’s house who kindly lent me the ingredients for the first batch and I made about 70 cookies and sold them all the next day. Then on the way home, I bought more ingredients, and made several hundred cookies that night. I sold them all in a matter of a few hours the next morning. I made money this way for 3 days before hitting the road with 2 lovely lady friends.

The three of us hitched to a town called Mazunte in Oaxaca to work on the beach. As it turns out we worked on nothing but our tans and made much less money than we spent. We met with 5 more girls from all over the world and spent 2 days there before they all went their separate directions. I stayed there for a few more days, working a little everyday just for my hotel room (my tent was quite broken, and still is).

I left 2 days after they did, bound for Puerto Escondido. I didn’t end up working on that beach either as I met a guy just after waking up on the beach who gave me his rented surf board and told me I could collect the deposit. Needless to say I spent the whole day surfing. I slept on the beach again that night and headed to the tourist trap of Acapulco.

It took the better part of the day to get there but I got there in time to work a little on the beach and when night fell, I headed up onto the strip of discos where all the tourists go to spend money in the night. I sat down with my backpack and my drum and work in front of me until a slightly drunk man approached me asking to play my drum. I saw that he was an Artisano as well by the display case he had in his hands, so I took a look at his wares while he sang a song with my drum. He then invited me to come sell with his friends, more Artisanos. I followed him up the street and met a very cool group of people making things in peoples hair called Trenzas de Colores. These are a kind of hair extension made with string kind of like a braid but a little more complicated. It can consist of several different kinds of knots and the people in Mexico are crazy about them. I quickly learned how to make them and was on my way to making money. I stayed that night with some of the people I met and met a girl the next night who I stayed with for the duration of my stay in Acapulco. We did move out of her house after about 8 days to live with another friend up on the hill.

Now, up on the hill is a kind of valley that I was told about. So one day I went for an adventure after work. I went after work because we usually start at 8PM and end around 6AM when the tourists go home. This is a prime opportunity for an early morning adventure. I went up into this valley composed of about 50 prominent and massive boulders, some bigger than most houses. These boulders are set on each other to make a huge network of caves beneath them, almost all of which are well lit. I spent the day rock climbing and spelunking.

The next day I met a very good friend and offered to show him this valley. We were on our way to his house after work when we spotted a police truck. The truck pulled up to s and stopped and 5 police armed with M16’s stepped out of the back. They told us to stop and demanded a bag search. When they found nothing they went on to say they needed to take us in for further questioning. This is really just a con to get a bribe out of us. We refused and another cop got out of the cab and demanded another bag search, this time including my pockets and a search through my wallet. The others did their best to distract us, and it didn’t seem to matter how closely I watched my things get rooted through. They left soon after, probably because they stole most of my money and my digital camera. This was no bribe. This was blatant highway banditry made by sticky fingers. To serve and protect, my ass.

We carried on however, and made it up to the mountain again in the morning. We spent several hours free climbing up and down into caves and up to the tops of massive boulders.

I left Acapulco son after that, still 4000 pesos short of being able to legally cross into the United States. You need to have a certain amount of money in your pocket at the time in order to cross as they don’t want you working in their country. More Mexicans will need to learn how to climb walls now. Here’s to the Great Wall of America.

Anyways, I made it into a town called Zihuatenajo after I left and met a little boy there who told me his mom owned a hostel. I went with him to El Rincon Del Viajero Hostel, roughly translated to “The Travelers Corner Hostel”. If you ever go there I would suggest checking in there with Mali. It is a very beautiful hostel with an amazing host, well worth checking out. I was able to clean there very big and very green garden for a few nights of camping under their patio. I camped there instead of in the garden because my first night I had some funny dreams about swimming and woke up in about a foot of rain water in my tent…

I met a German girl there who lived in her Volkswagen van and traveled to all the cool surf spots. She was heading to one such surf spot in the same direction I was going, so I hitched a ride with her and got back on the road. I caught a good succession of rides for the next 2 days into Mazatlan. My second last ride was in the back of a truck with several surfboards bound for San Blas. They dropped me off in the middle of the jungle there on a half built road. Off in the distance was pitch black at this time as a crazy storm was slowly rolling in my direction. I could see the road for miles to the north slowly become very wet and get closer. I could see forests of bamboo swaying in the gale force winds and the ditch filled quickly with water.

The storm hit before anyone would pick me up (although many people were kind enough to point at the storm in front of them to let me know it was coming, as though I didn’t see it…). The wind hit me and with it the rain. Buckets upon buckets poured from the sky. I had put my bag on top of some rocks on the side of the road and covered it in my rain coat, but this proved useless. Everything was soaked through in a matter of minutes. I stood there for 20 minutes or so becoming saturated with water until a big black pickup stopped. I ran up to him and looking like a drowned rat, asked where he was going. He said Mexicali. At this point I think the heavens opened up and a chorus of angels beckoned me into the back of the truck. If you know your Mexican geography, you will know that Mexicali is a border town right next to Tijuana.

I sat in the back of the truck with my cat for 2 days. We drove into the desert by nightfall and the man and his wife checked into a motel. I slept in the back of the truck until it started raining again and I retreated to the lobby of the motel to sleep on a bench. We got on the road when the sun came up. And it got hot. Very fast. In fact, it was way too hot for a kid who comes from an icebox like Canada. It got up to about 50 degrees that day with the direct sunlight beating down on me. I drank water like a madman, but still managed to stay very dehydrated. I asked to come in the cab, but the man said no, too may bags in there. My cat was in the process of dying and was drinking as much water as I was. With no other options I set my somewhat delirious mind to work and made a tent out of my blanket in the back. I simply hooked it on my feet and my elbows and my head and opened up a flap at the back end so the wind could come through. This kept me out of the direct sunlight and filled my tent with fresh blast furnace like wind. This probably saved me from heat stroke.

They dropped me off right next to the American border. I got my cat vaccinated for rabies and worms, put her in my drum and walked into America. This is how it went down…

I walked into the building and waited my turn in line for a while. I flashed the front of my passport to a guy and he said “ok that’s fine, go check your bags.” So I put my backpack through their scanner and raised no red flags so they passed me through. Then I said, “I have a cat in a drum, what do I do with her?”
They asked “Is it was alive or dead,” but nothing more. Then I asked where to get a visa. And the man said “You’re Canadian, you don’t need one.”
“So where do I go?” I asked.
“Well”, He said, “Just walk right out those doors right there”, as he pointed to the United States. So I said peace and love and left.

You may notice a fundamental step in crossing borders is missing here. I not once showed one piece of ID aside from the front of my passport, and I didn’t have a stamp in my passport. I officially entered the States as an Illegal Immigrant. How applicable to have entered this way from Mexico.

While I was in Mexicali I met a woman there who loved my cat sitting on my shoulder, and because of her, she invited me to stay at her house in the States. I made it to a town called El Centro and stayed at her house to dry out my still very wet bags. I left the next day and started hitchhiking in a place they call the Sonora Desert. It’s really hot there. Having drank all my water I flagged down a short ride into the next town, where I got a ride to a truck stop about 100KM away. Then I waited there on the exit to Interstate 10 for two whole days until a trucker picked me up. He drove me another 600 miles to San Francisco. There I was left at a rest stop and picked up not only at night, but by a woman, which almost never happens. This was because of my cat, once again. Come now, any guy with a cat on hit shoulder can’t possibly be a bad person. We drove together all night and she talked a lot, but she had amazing stories from traveling in Guatemala and Mexico.

She left me at another interstate exit on I 5 after taking me out for 2AM breakfast in a casino. My next ride at 6AM got me into Redding, California at the last big truck stop the man said. I caught a ride from there with another trucker all the way to Seattle Washington. He left me in a nasty spot however. I slept at the truck stop on the back of a flatbed trailer in between some boxes. I had asked the man the night before and in the morning was greeted with half a cantaloupe. I tried hitching at the truck stop until someone reported me to the security and escorted me off the property. From there I went to the interstate exit for about an hour before a police man pulled over, and only on his loud speaker (like the several other cop encounters I had in America) told me to leave. So I went to the road that ran alongside the highway, but was told by yet another cop that I couldn’t hitch in town limits. So I caught the bus downtown. I saw on my map that there was a ferry to Victoria, British Colombia. I walked into the ferry terminal, cat in drum as usual and found out that I had just enough money to get me there and from Nanaimo back to the mainland in Vancouver. Then my cat decided to stick her head out, and the man said “Aww, you’ve got a little kitty. Are you taking her with you? It will be another 20$ for her ticket and if you don’t have a proper kennel for her, you can rent one for an additional 10$.” This news brought my total way higher than I had money for. Luckily the man there was thinking fast and told me about a shuttle service to downtown Vancouver from Seattle for only 30$ and that if my cat just didn’t stick her head out, there was no problem with her. I took this option and on the first of September I crossed back into Canada. This makes a total of 17 months abroad.

When I got back into Vancouver I got in contact with Ira Sutherland, that guy I met 3 times biking across Canada. He was back in town after a huge adventure in South America and said I could stay at his place. I was on my way there when I met some of the local street punks panhandling. I was curious to experience the Canadian busking and panhandling scene so I stuck around with them. It is nothing like Mexico. People in México have respect for each other, they say please and thank you and would you like to buy something. In Vancouver they say “Gimme some money”, and say that people like it rough; it’s a novelty for them. I was pretty unimpressed. I ended up staying with all of them that night and learned places to sleep in Vancouver streets. I met up with another traveler who was with us and went with her to the beach instead of sleeping in a gutter reeking of urine.

In the morning I got a new bank card as soon as the bank opened. I went for coffee with that traveler girl and walked around downtown for the morning. Then I went to Ira’s house that night. Being a traveler himself, he understood fully why I didn’t show up the night before. Plans change all the time.

I stayed with Ira for a few days and went rock climbing the first day, then we went on an epic bike ride, my first time on a bike in 4 months along the entire coastline of Vancouver. My legs loved it.

As luck would have it, Ira’s parents happened to be driving to Golden the next day, so I hitched a ride with them. From golden I got a ride right away into Lake Louise, and from there I was picked up by a cool punk rock guy who drove me down the entire Icefields parkway, a truly spectacular drive and dropped me off in Jasper. From Jasper a man picked me up on his way to Bingo in Hinton and was kind enough to go out of his way to drop me off on my doorstep there.

Now comes the time when I rub in every naysayer and bad wishers face that hitchhiking is a good and legitimate way to travel, although never taken lightly and always with precaution. For example, not once in my life have I ever simply jumped in the front seat. I always leave my bags sitting where they are and run up to the car, ask some questions, scope them out, and then decide if I should get in. Just don’t be stupid and use your head. I made it.

So in total I hitchhiked from Mazunte, Oaxaca, just north of the Guatemala border to my house in Hinton, Alberta, a trip of close to 5000 KM in 23 days, excluding my 2 weeks in Acapulco. Not bad, eh?

So that was the past, now some words on the future. I really can’t be sure at this point that I will take up bicycling again and finish the trip. I feel that I have had an amazing trip, and I have no regrets in 17 months. I traveled a total of close to 20,000 KM by bike and around 10,000 KM hitchhiking. I don’t really know exact figures right now. I have learned so much, met so many amazing people, experienced so many eye opening events and I have successfully broadened my mind to the point that it will never stop getting wider. I also got a wonderful virus in my travels. It’s called the Travel Bug. I’m stricken with it. I can’t stop now, although it may not be quite like I had planned from the beginning, I will still keep moving. My future plans are as such. In the short term I will be returning to Hinton for no more than a day, just long enough to pack my bag there and leave. Hinton is a dead end town for someone like me. I would die inside if I stayed there. I plan on heading into interior British Colombia instead to work on the ski hills for the winter, replenish my funds and next spring there may be a return trip to Mexico. More on that trip later. However, as you know, plans are made to change, and they change frequently.

Lastly I want to thank you all for tuning into my travels. I hope I might have inspired some of you to get out and move your bodies. It’s easier than you think in this day and age of super fast and efficient travel. Thank you to everyone who has helped me along the way; Everyone who has let me fill up a water bottle, or picked me up on the highway, or allowed me to sleep in their yard. Without the kindness of strangers I might not have been able to make it this far. I have learned that the world is filled with amazing people, even if it takes some time to find them sometimes. Thank you all so very much. Peace and Love, Brothers and Sisters.

Steve Fox, back in Canada

#21 Living in Jalapa

2007-06-26T08:45:00.000-07:00

Hola, buenas dias. ¿Como estas amigos? Estoy en Jalapa, Veracruz. Si quieres ver esto mensaje en Espanol ir a babelfish.altavista.com

Ok sorry, but I am really enjoying learning Spanish. It´s such a wonderful language. I am in the city of Jalapa, Veracruz, Mexico. I have been here for about 3 weeks and I am renting a house for 500 pesos a month. That´s about $50 USD. The bike trip is currently on hold for a little while, but not to worry, I will be picking it back up in a few months. In order to make travelling a little smoother I will be returning to Canada in about a month to renew my passport as I only have 8 months left on it. It is probably best get this out of the way as soon as possible so I can continue to travel in south america. They don´t like it when you enter a country with less than a year on your passport, and least not on a bike. I plan on hitchhiking up through the USA to Canada and returning to Alberta where my family is to wait for a new passport, then when I have a thick, shiny, new key to the rest of the world I will make my way to the Mississippi River where I will invest in a canoe and spend 3 months riding the river, Huck Finn style all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. I´ll head along the coast after this all the way to Mexico and pick up my bike there for more travelling. This should take me 6 months, give or take.

My trip has begun to take on a different meaning to me as well. I started out with the mind set of bike everyday lets-go-for-a-record kind of bike trip. I have been on the road now for a little over 14 months and I have learned so much. I have learned that life is short and I have learned that I need to make the most of every second of it. 20, 000 kilometers have taught me never to stop living, never to stop the adventure. So I will be taking it a little slower. I realize now I don´t need to bike everyday. Many times in my journey I have come across wonderful opportunities to stay in different places, to stop and learn something new, or just to take a day of on the beach and relax, but the expectation of the bike trip has made me push on.

So now I am living in Jalapa. The house I am renting is great, filled with cool people, plus it has a stove downstairs and everyone here enjoys my cooking, so I try to do it as often as possible. One of those things I have missed horribly is a stove on my trip. You don´t notice it until it´s gone. There is a garden in the back yard, 2 bathrooms, all the amenities for sitting, hot water which is hard to come by here in Mexico, and free internet, of which I am taking full advantage of right now. And for 500 pesos, it is a great deal. It´s a cool story of how I found this house as well. I was talking with some wonderful Canadians here in Jalapa (it is a very international town, full of students), Tara and Jill. Just after Jill gave me a box of amazing maple syrup candies from Canada, which I thouroughly enjoyed, we were talking about how I was looking for a house. Jill said something amazing at this point. "Sometimes when we are asking for things, we aren´t specific about when we want them, and they take thier time in coming. Maybe you just need to say you need it right now". I did need it right now, as I was quite tired of carrying my bike and all my gear around town looking for a place to stay, and at the end of every unfortunate day, push it to someones house to sleep on thier floor. I did this for about a week when I first arrived here. At this point, all the energies in the whole universe aligned themselves in my favor and on of my freinds told me there was a guy who needed to talk to me. Turns out he had a house, cheap and beautiful, and needed someone to live in it. Easy as that. A huge thanks to Jill and Tara, not only for the delicious candies, but for ading a little more energy to fire. Peace and love girls.

So anyways...I last left you in Cuidad Serdan just after climbing Pico de Orizaba. I took my borrowed gear back to Tlachichuca to the hotel and spoke with Poli there. He made me an offer to work teaching english. All of my room and board would be free and all he wanted was 6 months, of which i would get paid for. I told him to give me 2 weeks to travel some more, and think it over. I wanted to test out the teaching in Zacapoaxtla, where my 2 friends from Britain were teaching english at the time. I hung out with Saul for another 2 days then headed to zacapoaxtla, hitchhiking. Hitchhiking in Mexico is so very easy, unlike America. It took 4 rides and about 3 hours to get there, and by cahnce ran into Amber in Centro.

The next day I went to try teaching English with Alex, and as it turns out, it wasn´t what I wanted to do for 6 months. I did get my face dunked into a cake though, that was cool. It was Dia del Maestros (day of the teachers) and all the teachers got face planted in cakes. There was no school the next day so we went to a town called Apulco which has some waterfalls and explored around there, then the four of us, Alex, Amber, Mateo, and I rented a cabaña for the night. I stayed in Zacapaoxtla for about 4 days, then left with my thumb out for Jalapa. it took me about 5 hours to get there.

My first day in Jalapa I bought a very cool drum. I have been playing the drum for about 8 months now, and I am really enjoying it, plus it gives me the opportunity to work and make some money, which will help me travel for much longer. I was on my way to play my drum that night when I met a guy named Alfredo. He invited me to come play my drum with him and a freind in his house, as he had a Djembe. I went there later that night and we made some amazing music.

I hung around Jalapa for about a week. I was introduced to a drink called Pulque, it is make form the juice of the Maguey plant, the same one used to make Tequila. It is delicous. I also found Callejon del Diamante (Alley of the Diamons) which is where the Artisanos go to work. I spent a lot of time there learning a lot about being an Artisano. These skills along with playing my drum have allowed me to untimatly not spend any money in Jalapa.

So after a week in Jalapa, I stuck my thumb out again and headed back to Cuidad Serdan for my bike. Before I left again I hitched to Nogales to visit Ulises and pick up my other bags. The day I left for Cuidad Serdan to climb the mountain, his cat, Psst psst had babies, and he told me i could take one. I put it in my drum and headed back to Serdan. Now, the plan was for Ulises to come to Serdan and for us to head south, him on Fiona, and me on Mary the Mule, but as usual, plans change, and he decided to stick around with hid girlfriend, So i headed back to Jalapa to look for a house, this time on my bike. It took me 2 days to get there, the road being perfectly flat until Las Vigas, then a 30 km decent into Jalapa. Easy riding.

Now the whole time I have been in Jalapa has been a fiesta or an adventure. There is always something to do here, and it´s easy to find things to do. One such adventure occured with my freind Alfredo in a town called Xico, which is right under the mountain Cofre de Perote. It is home to a variety of mushroom that has an amazing effect on the brain. They call them Hongos. I went there the first time with Alfredo, his girlfreind, and my friend Marco. I ate only 1.5 hongos, but the effect was intense. Everything began to move. The ground beneath me swirled in orange and green circles. Trees wiggled and danced in the wind and sounds became amazing. Simply walking sounded like the most beautiful of music. These hongos make you think and they can tell you amazing things, however, i wasn´t prepared for what they were trying to tell me, and didn´t fully understand, so after about 3 days, I returned to Xico with my tent to learn more. This time I ate 9 and being alone is much better when you eat them. They aren´t meant for parties or hanging out. They are for thinking, and for learning about what ever it is you want to learn. You can go there with a question and when you return, you´ll have your answer. I thought about almost everything, my Family, my bike trip and where I plan on going with it, and the general world. I learned that life is but a game, and you have to play hard, or what´s the point of playing.

So while I have been in Jalapa I have learned a lot. I have also partyed a lot. In fact, I am taking a rest day today because I have partied for 4 days now. So my body needs some time to clean itself out. I think ill lay off the party for a few days, but I know when the weekend comes in Jalapa, there will be parties. There always is. I am never bored here.

So anyways, my cat is pawing at me looking for some food, and I am hungry as well, so on that note, buena suerte, paz y amor.

Steve Fox (or Rasquachito, ultimatly little sasquatch with rastas)

#20 Ooh the suspense...

2007-05-14T12:09:00.000-07:00

14 de Mayo, 2007

¡Buenos Tardes!

I am currently in Cuidad Serdan, Puebla, right underneath the highest mountain in Mexico, Pico de Orizaba. I have been here for several days now and have had many adventures. The adventures never end in Mexico.

I left Veracruz on a very poorly rigged and wobbley Fiona. She inched her way over the course of 5 days to Orizaba. The road there took me along a nicely paved road through small rolling hills toward the mountains. I managed to become part of a wedding in Mata de Agua. The Mexicanos sure know how to party. It sucks though, when you wake up in the morning after a wedding looking into the eyes of a cow. No it`s not what you think. I camped that night beside a river and when i woke up there was a herd of cows gathered around my tent watching me sleep. I discovered some wonderful beans that morning as well. thier pods are covered in some great fuzz that causes pain like you wouldnt believe. And nothing but time stops the pain. It drives you insane because you can`t scratch it, you can`t wash it and it`s persistent. Water helps a little, but it still takes 10 minutes or so to stop stinging.

"Donde puedo obtener los plátanos" I asked. This means "Where can i get some bananas?" Several minutes later I was invited into the house, fed, given a shower in a bucket and a bed to sleep in. Easy as that. The Mexican people have been amazingly friendly.

I made the mountains the next day, and climbed over 3 big passes into Orizaba to look for Ulises. I checked my notes again for his address and realized i was in the wrong town so I carried on down the road to Nogales and found the Lake there. La Laguna de Nogales in a little lake under a mountain with the clearest spring water. It is so cold and refreshing in the hot Mexican spring. I didn`t take one shower in my time in Nogales (about 2 weeks), but prefered the clear, cool waters of the lake instead.

I stayed around the lake for several hours, hoping my friend would show up, but as night approached and I was getting ready to find a place to sleep, some people saw me and my bike and asked if I was the friend of Ulises. They took me to his house (technically my house, I paid the rent last month) and I set up my hammock and settled in.

Within the next few days I biked back into Orizaba to find a new bike. I found an excellent bike shop there who built me a great bike. It has a steel frame, 26" wheels, very simple setup for fast fixes on the road. I have dubbed her La Burra "Mary". Burra is a female donkey. Mary the Mule. She is an amazing bike. She`s a little slow going up the hills, but she flies down them at obscene speeds.

April 20th was a good day. If you don`t fully understand the signifigance of 4:20, you don`t need to. For those you who do, I had a great time. We cooked a funny light green drink called "Cafe con Leche". It is translated as Coffee with Milk, but has nothing to do with Coffee. We had a good buzz on from it to say the least.

April 25th was my 19th birthday. On the 24th Ulises and I packed our backpacks and headed out into the mountains in search of a waterfall we were told about. 3 hours or so up a dried up creek bed we came to the waterfall. It was small, but supplied a great place to camp, with a little lake of fresh drinkable water. In the morning we headed down a little ways before finding a steep valley to climb to the top of the mountain. I would have liked to have made it to the top, but several vertical walls near to top pf the valley made continuing impossible. I managed to get injured on the way down as well. As I was climbing down, with Ulises above me, I heard crashing sounds as a rock barrelled towards me at high speed. It didn`t get me but a smaller one hit my ankle. Not 10 minutes later another rock hit the same ankle. After that I made Ulises walk below me.

The next night we took the bus to Atzacan to work. Ulises is an Artisano and makes bracelets and necklaces out of seeds. He is teaching me his trade. Very beautiful jewelery. There was a fair there and I spent the whole night dancing and got invited onto the stage to dance. The only problem was I had no girls to dance with, but the band quickly rectified that and called 3 girls up on stage with me. Like I said before, these people know how to through a party. Later that night after a mad dash in my birthday suit from a house chased by a broomstick I flagged down a ride to try to get home. The guy turned out to be quite drunk and had some problems driving. He had to slow down for a speed bump, so I jumped out as he wouldnt let me out. He grabbed my shirt in the process, and almost ripped it in half. It took a 90 peso taxi ride to get my somewhat inebriated body home at around 5AM.

May 1st, 2007 signified 1 whole entire year of travelling. My journal entry says quite simply "Slept all day..." Me and Ulises made a special cake the day before, which is why I slept all day. I had planned to get back on my bike that day and head out for Pico de Orizaba, but plans changed when I woke up at 5 PM. oops.

I left the next day though on Mary, bound for Tlachichuca under the mountain where I could climb it. I spent a whole day climbing uphill out of the Orizaba Valley. I camped half way up the hill and finished it around noon the next day. It was a very big hill. Out of the valley the terrain levelled out and became a flat plain full of fertile fields, and right in the middle, the behemoths of Sierra Negra and Pico de Orizaba. As I biked along I noticed a sign that said "Gran Milimetro Telescopio". It is a telescope that sits atop Sierra Negra at 4600 Meters. This is also the home of the highest road in North America. Being the highest road in North America, I decided I needed to bike up it.

I took me 2 days to get to the top. The road was paved for a while, but after the little town of Texmacilla it turned into cobbles, and finally into gravel. The going was very difficult. The higher I got the less air there was and coming from the low, humid valley I was not acclimitized for any kind of elevation, least not on a cold mountain with snow. I made it though with much toil and many breaks. I camped at the top and had funny dreams about giant killer pineapples...

The next morning I headed down. About half way down my brakes failed and I started hitting some extreme speeds on gravel roads. It was after the switchbacks though, so it wasn`t as dangerous. As I got down farther my head stopped hurting so much and things got better. The road turned to pavement again and not having brakes didn`t matter so much as I tore down hill into the valley on the open road. I made it into Tlachichuca that night and found The Hotel Los Tres Garcias. If you are ever in Tlachichuca, look them up. They have a very nice hotel there. I spent 2 nights with them and met Saul there. He offered me a place to stay at his house in Cuidad Serdan, which is where I am now, and have been for a week.

Now, as for Pico de Orizaba, or Citlaltepetl. The plan was to climb it last Wednsday, but my friend who I was planning to climb it with wanted to do it on the weekend, so I agreed on Saturday. I borrowed crampons and an Ice axe, packed my Camelbak (by the way, my hat is off to Camelbak for making a wicked good backpack) and headed out for the Volcano, with my friend Pimpoes in his sisters car. I had planned to climb from the northern side, a much easier accent, but decided to take the southern route instead. It is a much more difficult climb. We got to the first road block and started walking. The road entered the forest and climbed up and up passed the odd house or herd of sheep, through little feilds of corn and towards the mountain. We passed Xipes, the ecotourist hotel in the mountains, but Pimpoes told me that was for "Mujers con caros" not "Hombres de la Montañas". It started raining shortly after that so the 2 men of the mountains pitched the tent and hid from the water for about an hour.

We carried on after it stopped and as we passed to tree line the snow began to fall. we walked into the night between Sierra Negra to the South and Citlaltepetl to the North. we pitched the tent behind some rocks out of the wind around 9PM, made some hot tea, ate some chocolate and went to sleep.

Most people wake up around 1 AM to start thier accent. We woke up around 5 AM, well rested and ready. We packed everything and headed closer to the mountain. After an hour of walking up we left most of the equipment, including the tent, sleeping bags, my stove, most of the food, a backpack and every other unneeded thing hidden behind a large white water tank. There is a small building right under the mountain near the snow that Pimpoes called the Albergue and we arrived there around 7 Am. I put another pair of socks on under my sandals and we headed upwards. The sun peeked over the mountain at around 830. The weather in Mexico is on a perfect schedule. We had till almost exactly noon before it would start to storm on the top of the mountain, so we had to hurry. Scrambling through the rocks was relatively easy, considering I was much better acclimitized at this point, but I still needed to stop often to catch my breath. Pico de Orizaba is 5756m above sea level making it the highest point in Mexico, and the third highest in North America.

Around halfway up, near the glacier Pimpoes called up to me from quite far below me. He motioned that his heart was beating too fast and he didnt want to continue. I told him give me 3 hours, and if I`m not back at the Albergue, to come find my body. Shortly after this I made it onto the glacier and put my crampons on my sandals. Yes, I was still wearing sandals at this point. I left my boots at the Albergue, on purpose. I was wearing 5 pairs of socks and a plastic bag under them, so I was quite warm and dry. Slowly but surely I made my way up the very steep ice. On footstep at a time was enough to keep my mind occupied. My body felt good though, not very affected by the elevation. my heart rate was fine, my breathing was good and I felt a constant adrenalin rush from such an amazing adventure.

As I neared the top the winds began to pick up. I knew it was close to noon by the sun directly over head. the snow began to fly soon after and the winds increased in strength until i was forced into the cover of some rocks. At this point the Mountain let me know in its own subtle ways that I wasn`t going to climb any higher. everything became dark as the clouds swirled around me and blotted out the sun. The wind screamed trough the rocks around me and battered my face with sharp snow. I pulled my toque over my eyes to protect my face and sat in the cold wind eating chocolate for half an hour. The wind slowed down a little at this point and I took the chance the got out of the rocks. As I did the mountain taunted me with a perfectly clear veiw of the summit but a stones through away, and as the thought to climb the last hundred meters crossed my mind the winds picked up again and I started down.

The decent went down without a hitch. Not being attached to any kind of ropes and only a pick to save me I took it slow but steady. At one point I slipped on the open ice and slid about 20 meters before my crampons caught the ice. You can`t imagine what 20 meters of out of control sliding 5000 meters in the air is like. I took it very slow after that and as I got lower the winds died a little. At this point I had planned on trying again in a few days from the other side, but some events to come have hindered that. I saw Pimpoes far below me near the bottom of the glacier, apparently I had been gone more than 3 hours. He had seen the storm on the peak and came out to find me. The reason most people climb this mountain very early is because the weather, especially in the spring is very volitile.

I made it down to Pimpoes and we walked back to the Albergue. On the way down we met some more climbers there for the day. They had jeeps as the road runs almost all the way up to the Albergue and agreed to take up down. They went and had an adventure on the mountain while Pimpoes and I walked back to the water tank to get our gear. Now comes the reason why im not attempting the mountain again. we got the water tank and there were no bags. No backpacks, no tent, no sleeping bags, no equipment of any kind, nothing. Someone stole it all. Well, not all...they left 1 bag of peanuts, an orange, half a bottle of water and a salt shaker...

We made our way back to the jeeps and waited for several hours for the others to return. When they did we eagerly hopped in the trucks and tore down the gravel roads for Atzizatlan. They dropped us off at the parada for the bus and we took the half hour ride back to Cd. Serdan. Once there a large bowl of rice and tortillas, several glasses of water and a shower were very welcomed. I went to sleep early last night feeling very good to back at a lower elevation. Oxygen does amazing things for the brain.

So today is a day off. I will be heading into the market soon to buy some new blankets, as I now have nothing to sleep with. Ill need to get some more gear before I take off, but Im not planning on replacing everything lost on the mountain. Mary will be much lighter because of it. I try to look at everything on the bright side.

The plan for now is no plan, as usual. I think in a few days I will leave Serdan bound for Zacopoactla, then on to Jalapa before returning to Nogales. Ulises is very serious about bicycling with me to brazil, and it will be nice to bike with someone who knows the area. Other than that who knows, you`ll just have to wait for my next update, just like me.

Peace my friends.

Steve in Cuidad Serdan, Puebla, Mexico

Archive "Steve`s World Bike Trip - Mexico"

2007-05-14T11:48:00.000-07:00

Mexico Updates

#17 Texas and Mexico

March 11, 2007

Hola Amigos

So, I survived America and made it out before my VISA expired, but I cut it pretty close. Here´s the story: After the wonderful meal of Crawfish, a southern delicacy I suggest you try if your ever in Louisiana, Art drove me into Laffeyette where we found a bike shop, then he drove me to the texas border. I realize I cheated here, but worse is yet to come. I rode a few miles into Texas then stopped for the night in a yard full of mosquitos. They weren´t the smartest bugs though, none of them bit me.

The bike problems continued the next day as I pedalled down HWY 87. I got to the end of the road and it disappeared, turning into sand. I turned around preparing for a 20 km back track on a dwindling time frame. All of a sudden I heard that all too familiar hiss sound of a flat tire. I groaned but had no choice but to fix it. As I was pumping it up matters got worse. The tire exploded, leaving me stranded. I gave up at this point and stuck out my thumb again. A truck already loaded with people, inside and out picked me up and through my gear in the back, dropping me off at a gas station where a mexican man drove me a little farther down the road. He dropped me off at another gas station where I stayed the night, pitched behind the building. I made some money that night as well, playing my drum. I managed to pull 100$ out of my hat. I was pretty happy with that.

At this point I had 5 days left on my visa, and at least a 10 day ride ahead of me, so I was in a hurry. I am not a religious person, but what happened next made me think twice. I was pedalling hard, in the beating sun, fighting the wind praying; praying for someone to stop and help me out. And someone did. An RV pulled up in front of me and a man got out. He had white hair, a white beard and was dressed in very plain clothes. i was sure he was Jesus, and asked if he was. He said no, but asked me if I wanted a ride. It was a miracle. I through everything inside the RV and he drove me to Galvaston where I found some wonderful tubes in the bike shop. they are very thick and supposedly prevent flats very well. So far so good. I biked till almost midnight after being dropped off and pitched my tent in a church yard, far too tired to eat more than a few hand fulls of peanuts.

I started thumbing rides at 8 AM. The first ride got me 9 miles, the second about 200 miles into Corpus Christi. The man said I had a kind face, which is why he picked me up. I got back on the bike after he took me out for lunch in Corpus and headed down the road. And I didn ´t stop. At all. I biked all night through the desert under the almost full moon. trucks roared down the road all night, but most of the traffic ceased after 11 ish.

I made it to Progresso, Texas, right on the border by the next night and went to the 3 diamonds hotel. A little smooth talking and I managed to get the room for free, which I was thouroughly grateful for. I ate a pile of food and crashed. 24 hours on a hard bike seat will do that to you.

I left the hotel late in the morning of march 1st, bound for Brownsville, texas, where I stayed in another cheap hotel. That day I tried to cross the border at Progresso and Los Indios, but was turned around both times because I didn´t have my visa forms, which I needed to get in Brownsville at the Mexican Consulate. I also met 2 cyclists that day, snowbirds from up north on a day tour from thier RV camp. It was neat to bike with someone again.

March 2nd, the day of reckoning, I got to the consulate early, only to find out that It didn´t open till 9...So i waited 2 hours. I got my 6 month visa without a hitch and headed to the border and crossed the Rio Grande for the last time into Matamoros, Mexico just in the nick of time. I got myself a hotel room. 80 pesos (8$ USD) a night got me a faded pink 8X12 room, 1 bed (1 sheet and 1 pillow included), a table, a sink with brown water, a fan but no plug in, a burnt out light bulb and just enough room for me and my bike. I was in heaven. I sat there, on the bed near the open window in the breeze during the hottest part of the day, reading a book, surveyor of all that is mine. I crashed early that night instead of going out for beer.

The next day was a day off. I slept in, hung out, had a shower, walked around town, played my drum for the tourists ate lots of cheap street food and went to bed early again. Life was good.

After 2 days of chilling in Matamoros I decided I wanted to head into Mexico. I left town and was greeted 20 km in by a checkpoint, at which I flashed my passport, showed off my visa and was waved through without even saying a word. That night I camped off to the side of the road, hidden in the cactuses. It got cold enough that night to freeze my water bottles.

In San Fernando the next day I was flagged down by some students. They gave me the message that I shouldn´t go south. they made many hand signals to me depicting guns and shooting and they ran thier hands across thier necks several times, but I kept going.

When you can´t speak the language it makes it difficult for things to happen on the road. most of my experiences so far have had to do with meeting people and talking and doing things with them, but so far, I haven´t met anyone on the road worth noting. It´s been a very lonely time biking. Most of my conversations happen at gas stations when i buy water or at road side food stands buying fruit. Im not complaining by any stretch of the imagination though, this is great. I am slowly learning a few more spanish words every day and increasing my vocabulary. I keep my Spanish-English Dictionary in my pocket all the time and pull it out at every chance. the locals think its the funniest thing when I do, but that´s OK, im glad I can make them laugh.

I have gotten into a new schedule here in Mexico. I get up around 630 AM when the sun comes out, make food, pack up and hit the road around 8 or so. My watch beeps for 10 AM and the wind slaps me in the face, every day, never failing. Around 2 or so it is too hot for a northern Gringo like me bike, so I find a tree and pull off to the side of the road, have lunch, read, nap, work on things, or do whatever I feel like until the clouds come out around 3 PM. Then I bike till 6 and camp. It´s very simple. Life is good.

So anyways, March 7th, around 6 Pm I wandered down a back road trying to find a spot to camp. i went through a gate, down a path, down another path, through a forest and came upon a house. It was a huge house randomly placed in the back woods. It had banana trees growing in its yard as well as oranges, which I indulged in. The house itself was amazing. set in almost solid marble, it was very beautiful, and completely abandoned. I asked a man the next day as he rode his horse passed if it was for sale and he told me to inquire in Tampico, which is where I am now. I would stop biking if I could buy that house for a cheap proice and fix it. Im truely in love with that building. But, alas, I probably wont get it.

So yesterday I made it into Tampico. I milled around town most of the day trying to find a hotel and ended up at one for 150 pesos a night. I´ll be moving to a cheaper one tomorow downtown in the market. I am looking forward to the rest of Mexico, and with a 6 month visa in hand, i´ll be taking my time, so expect many adventures in the coming months.

In my next update Ill add some final words about the USA, but for now, i have 1 minute on my time at this computer, so I must go.

A message for Will in Virginia Beach: You bet your sweet ass I am.

Paz y Amor Amigos

Steve Fox

#18 Tampico and some thoughts on America

¡Hola Amigos!

I have not left Tamipco yet. I had to cut the last update short as my our on the computer ran out, but I have time now.
America Stats:
Total Kilometers in USA: 6378.55
Total Kilometers: 17579.10
Spent: 787.42$ USD
Days spent in America: 90
KM hitch-hiked: About 700, give or take
Top 5 Cities: Boston Mass, Spartanburg SC, Mobile AB, Galvaston TX, Talahassee FL
Top 5 Scenic spots: Delaware Water Gap, Catskill Mountains, Outer Banks, The Live Oak trees from Virginia south, The beach in Destin, FL
# of Flats: way to many, somewhere in the area or 30.
Fav state: toss up for Conneticut, South Carolina and Florida.

As I have said before, america met none of my expectations. Any image I had in my head about what it would be like was chopped up, mashed and rearranged into something completley different an unexpected. I met some amazing people there. I would like to tip me hat to the Fort Family especially, you guys were amazing to me and you wont be soon forgotten. The same goes to everyone who helped me ( and Paul) out along the way. there are so many out there I wouldnt know where to start naming you off. you know who you are.

Overall I enjoyed America. Some of the people there were a little more disagreeable than others, but i got along with most people. I did meet a few nasty people and had some bad run ins, but that is to be expected in my line of work. People are nice, they just some times dont know how to show it. It´s forgivable. I do look forward to cycling up the west coast through California in the future.

The plan...:
Since the last time I wrote I managed to find a family to stay with that wants me to stay with them in thier house forever and marry thier daughter. Life is good, the food is amazing and I am learning a huge amount of Spanish. I plan on staying here a few more days, possibly weeks, but seeing as i have 6 months to bike mexico and a strong urge to use all 6 of those months exploring and having adventures, i will be taking my time. If you dont hear from me for several weeks, dont be alarmed. Nothing will happen in Mexico. the people here rival the freindliness of Newfoundlanders, and that is huge. They are so very patient with a Gringo like me talking like a baby, I am so grateful for that. The adventures have begun already though...:

3 nights ago, round 1130 pm, I was laying in bed, writing in my journal after walking around town, exploring the downtown area when I heard someone bang loudly on my door yelling ´FUEGO, FUEGO´ and going on in spanish I understood fuego as fire. i opened my door, 3/4 naked and sure nough, thick smoke billowed into my room. It stung my eyes so i got low, light in hand and ran down the steep stairs. they guy yelling followed me down and as we passed the reception desk the smoke thickened into a black haze. Someone grabbed a fire extinguisher and ran at the door, but upon grabbing the door handle of the enflamed room, he burnt his hand and jumped back. Someone managed to open the door and exposed the flames, a mere electrical fire in the power box, a small flame, but spewing black smoke into the air. they came out of the building a few minutes later as the fire truck was pulling in covered in the yellow fire extinguisher chemicals. someone forgot to aim. No one was serisouly hurt and there was very little damage done.

Anyways, it is time to go learn more spanish with my lovely Familia de Mexico.

Peace and love

Steve Fox

#19 The Road to Veracruz

April 12th, 2007

Buenos Dias. I am coming to you from Veracruz, Ver., Mexico. I have been here for 2 weeks now and have not had a chance to send anything out as I have been having too good or a time here. This city is amazing. There is music all the time on every corner, at times almost too much music. The people are friendly, the night life is pretty good on a weekend and it’s always hot. The beaches here leave something to be desired, but it is worth the bus ride to some of the more distant beaches for a swim, and the Zocalo and other parks in town, surrounded with architecture from days gone by make up for them. It is a big tourist hub for the locals, but you can often see some random gringo, backpack towering high above their heads and laden with camping supplies, glancing about in awe of the visual overload in the colorful squares.

I stayed in Tampico for about 5 days more after the last update with the DeLeon Family. I enjoyed my time there, although it was very different to what I was used to. On the road I have no worries, no cares, to routine (not a rigid one at least), and no one telling me what I can and cannot do. It was definatly strange for me to be around people who cared about me enough to enforce rules. Not that I really cared, but for a free bird like myself, that can get suffocating after a while. Leaving Tampico was filled with tears and when I got half way up the large bridge that over looked the whole city, I saw most of the family gathered below it, flagging me down. I stopped and waited for Miguel to walk up the bridge to give me a watch. The first day I stayed with them we went to the beach and when I went in the water without taking off my watch, it stopped working. I bid one last goodbye towering above the city and headed back out onto the road.

I got searched for the first time at the police check stop just outside of the city. It went down without a hitch, but they broke a bolt on my bike when they set it down. I fixed it there and shared stories and maps with them before leaving. I started out on a paved road, but my map told me of a smaller road to the East. I thought there would be less traffic there, so I took a scenic and winding perfectly paved road to the coast. I found the road, but it turned out to be gravel. There was no traffic aside from the odd VW and a few nearly empty buses and some farm trucks. The road soon turned to finer gravel and then sand and went this way, with patches of pavement in some of the villages, and large pieces of pounded rock. It was not a good road, and my bike told me so with a bent rim at the end of that ordeal.

I made it back onto pavement in 2 days and made my way back to the coast in Tamaihua, a little river port town where I found a cheap hotel for 80 pesos. Getting there was entertaining though, as the road was patchy and there was a bridge over a river missing. I stopped there for a bath and lunch before wading across. The water only came up to the bottom of my bags though.

The next day I made it to Tux pan. It was a cute little city, but seemed to be lacking bike shops. I left in the afternoon and shortly after broke a spoke which sent my wheel grossly out of true. It was almost dark at this point to I hobbled up a hill and pitched my tent at the top in an orange grove. I have been eating very well so far in Mexico. The food is very cheap and always fresh. It is much easier than I thought to not eat meat here, especially when I am alone as there is a huge abundance of different fruits and vegetables. Right now is the beginning of spring here. The banana trees are hanging low, laden down with bunches of green fruits, the oranges are falling off the trees, the mangoes are turning red, and the coconuts are filled with delicious water. It is easy enough to find any of these things and much more wild. Often times cycling along the coast I can find a grove of cocos. I usually have to climb the tree, which is easy enough and chop them down. It’s much more difficult to get them in real life than you see in the movies, believe me. They are tough and fibrous and it takes a lot of hacking to get a bunch on the ground. When you do though, you are rewarded with several liters of liquid. It is well worth the effort on a hot day. I have also discovered tortillas. They go well with anything to make a meal a little more substantial, and coupled with beans and rice, and some chopped up vegetables, they make the perfect meal.

I dodged back inland from the coast and headed into Poza Rica to see some ruins, but got horribly lost and ended up on the wrong road, which wound its way up and up into the mountains. For several hours I climbed and pushed and just when I thought I had come to the top there would be more hills. Eventually near dark I pulled up on the top of a ridge as the sun was sinking below the mountains in the West. I got off the road at that point in an old farm yard and enjoyed the beer which I had just bought and listened to the night. The beer here is amazing. It goes down just like water, especially when it is hot out. It is also nice to be able to drink it again. I have been caught in a strange limbo of adulthood in the last year. I turned 18 only 5 days before I left last May, and when I got to British Columbia, the drinking age turned into 19. Most of Canada was 19, and all of America was 21. Not that I drink that much when I am on my bike, but the odd weekend would have been nice. Not here in Mexico though, where the beer is cheap and the night clubs are hoppin.

By the time I made it back to the coast to bad roads had taken their toll on my bike. As I was riding along I felt that the weight was a little off. When you are on the bike this much, you notice every single change, no matter how minute. I leaned my bike over to check out the back, thinking another bolt had broken. Then I noticed a gaping crack in the frame where the rack attaches just below the seat post. It turns out that both spots that hold the weight there were almost off. I fixed it temporarily with some random bits of wire I found on the road, a stick of cane, and some zip ties.

It was hot when I woke up in the morning, and got hotter as they day progressed. I didn’t make it very far before spotting a summer home with no one around, plus there were several low coco trees and a beach. I ended up staying there most of the day, but put on a few more kilometers as the sun was going down.

I ended up in Cardel the next day. I had hoped to bike up to some ruins in a town just north of there, but the road was very steep and very bumpy and completely absent of wind, so I began to overheat in a hurry. With the sweat pouring off my body, I turned around and headed back to the highway where I quickly drank a 2 liter bottle of water to replenish what I had just lost. Near Cardel that night I camped in a football pitch. I talked to several people there, and one of them returned later with a bag of beans.

The next day I made it into Veracruz. Not to make the same mistake as in Tampico, I made sure I found the perfect place to stay, which meant about 3 hours of touring around the streets looking for a hotel. I managed to find the Hotel Buenas Aires for 80 pesos a night. I think it is the cheapest hotel in town, and I looked at a lot of hotels. It is the cheapest for good reason, too. That day I met a man from Colorado who said he was jokingly going to send a picture of the outside of the Hotel to all his friends saying that he stayed there. I didn’t think it looked that bad from the outside. I found out that night that there were bed bugs as well. Those are not fun.

I met a very cool guy within the next few days. By the way, I have lost all track of time here in Veracruz. I never where the watch I was given in Tampico, and because I have not written in my journal all that much, I don’t know the date. His name is Ulises and he hand makes jewelry out of seeds which he collects himself from the local trees. He was some beautiful pieces. I followed him around for the next few days, learning the ways of the local artisans. I also moved into his house with his family to sleep on their roof. It is the most amazing place to sleep. It is cool at night in the wind, although sometimes it rains which is not bad. You just wake up a little wet.

After a few days of walking, playing my drum and hanging out all over town with Ulises I met Alex and Amber, 2 GAP girls from Britain. I was sitting with some other travelers, who coincidentally played music and sold bracelets, when two white girls sat down beside me and listened to our music. They talked to me in Spanish and I tried talking to them as well, but quickly let them know I was from Canada and didn’t speak much. ``Oh, well you must speak English then`` they said. Ulises left a day or so after that and I concentrated on hanging out with my new found British friends. We went to several clubs and drank a lot of beer. I had a great time with them. They are both English teachers in the mountains here on for Semana Santa, so they were out to have a good time after several weeks in a tiny village. I chilled with them for about 8 days, give or take. They left yesterday for another town, and will return to the mountains in a few days. I have had an amazing time in Veracruz so far. I have walked a long ways here as Ulises` house is a 40 minute walk from the Centro, and I do that at least once a day. There are so many people here to meet and interact with that I have never been bored. There really have been no breaks in the adventures, aside from a little yesterday when I slept all day, a detox thanks to Alex and Amber. I have gone to the beach, gone to the clubs, or just walked around playing my drum and meeting people in the Zocalo. There is always something to do in this beautiful town. I also had an entertaining time getting my bike fixed yesterday. In Mexico, if you want something, all you have to do is put out the ``I want something vibe`` and someone will approach you. In this way I found a bike shop where I was led to a welder. Instead of fixing the problem however, they just covered it up with slag. The guy didn’t weld my frame, but welded the rack, which was not broken, so I could attach it to the frame without bolts. I think it will get me to Orizaba, but I will get something permanent done about it there before I head into the mountains on some nasty roads again.

So, I will be leaving Veracruz today, after it cools off in the afternoon. Right now it is 1pm and I am sitting in an internet cafe between 2 outrageously perfumed men. There is only one fan and every time it passes them, I can catch a thick smell. I will make my way west to Orizaba, which is where Pico de Orizaba is, the tallest mountain in Mexico. I happen to be renting a house there at the moment with my friend Ulises, so I will go there and ditch some equipment, get my bike really fixed, then head into the mountains to visit Alex and Amber in their town. From there I have heard of a large festival of some kind on Mexico City in 3 weeks, so I will make my way there for that. After that all I know is I will be going south on the coast. Who knows what will happen.

Paz y Amor mi familia y amigos.

Steve Fox in Veracruz, México

Archive "Steve`s World Bike Trip - United States"

2007-05-14T11:08:00.000-07:00

#12 Of Strange Places To Sleep

Canada is officially over, and I have now begun my journey through the United States of America, along with my "interpreter" and fellow cyclist, Paul Dorr, who contacted me in the interest of biking to texas with me.

So the last few weeks have been very entertaining, all the while I have been crossing my fingers in hopes that I wouldn't get snowed on while I was still up north here. I almost lucked out if not for the blizzard Paul and I pedalled trough on Dec 4. I left Halifax on my way to the border and headed up Highway 1 towards the Bay of Fundy. My first night was spent in a bed in Newport, NS after a difficult time finding a spot to lay my head. The difficulty may have started when I started asking people if I could sleep in thier sheds, as opposed to pitching my tent in thier yards, as I have done al summer. The reason for this is when I wake up in the morning, my tent is almost always frozen, heavy and hard to stuff back in the bag.

The next night was worse for finding a spot to sleep. I knocked on several doors until I found some people who told me about a youth group in town at one of the churches that would have a spot for me. I biked in there, well after dark (which was only about 5pm...) to be told that it wasn't church policy to allow travellers to sleep in thier walls. In the Bible it clearly states, several times, that it is in fact, church policy to give safe haven to travellers. I was turned away to the night and approched several houses before finding a shed to sleep in. At least it was a roof over my head. That night, Ashleigh, who owned the house, asked me if I wanted to sleep inside on a couch, but I was in no mood for telling stories, much less to people. I agreed to join them for breakfast though, and ended up staying for 5 days. Ashleigh had some very interesting ideas about living simpler and back to the land. I also got a chance to go back to high school for a day. It was like a flash back. I realized that all high schools in Canada are the same. I talked briefly to some of the classes there, in small groups, about my trip. I also got corraled into helping out with a church group full of little kids, and I got to attend a university class at the Divinity College. It was a busy couple of days to say the least, but definitely spent with good people. They had tried to convince me to stay for Christmas, but i knew by then there would be snow on the ground, and they were not planning on letting me leave in the snow.

The night after leaving Ashleigh's house in Walton I found myself soundly sleeping in a dairy barn, snuggled up with some cats and chickens. If anything, the barn strengthened my resolve to stop eating meat, which I have been experimenting with for the last 7 months. It can't be all that fun for a cow to live in its own excrement.

Another day down the road I managed to find a spot in a wood shed behind a tire shop, on top of some stacked up tires to sleep. It was cozy, with not much room to roll around and thrash about in my sleep. The logs in the shed were also stacked perilously as though they could fall at any moment. I tried hard not to sneeze near them all night.

One thing that I have noticed, living with the hospitality of people is even though some people might not feel comfortable letting a traveller sleep in thier garage, they always want to talk to me, and sometimes won't let me leave. This was the case on a particularly dark cloudy night, my last in Nova Scotia. The lady there insisted on me waiting at her door until her son and husband came home, then wouldn't let me get back on my bike. She proceeded to borrow a freinds truck, help me take the bags off my bike and drive me to gas station against my reassurances that I would be fine and would find some place to sleep or pitch my tent. I ended up sleeping in the truckers lounge of that gas station on the floor where I couldn't turn the lights off.

I slept on 2 more couches on my way into Fredricton, New Brunswick, and once more in my tent high up on a hill so the sun would wake me up early in the morning. When I passed through Moncton, which is a very nice city, especially on a Sunday morning when there is no traffic on its cobble stone streets between glass buildings and under glass pedways, I stopped in at Magnetic Hill. This hill is fabled to pull cars backwards up the hill. As I arrived, a car was in the process of rolling up the hill, and before I left another car did the same thing. I myself felt no need to pedal from the bottom to the top as I magically rolled, albeit slowly, to the top. Some say it is caused by Ghosts, others by aliens, and some think it is massive iron deposits. For the most part I think it is an optical illusion, but maybe it is magic. Who knows?

In Fredricton i stayed 2 nights in the Hostel there, meeting travellers and students as the Hostel doubles as a residence, and cooking marvelous foods. Fredricton is a very nice city as well, although it is very conservative on the outside. You really have to look hard for eccentric people. Very neat rows of elm trees line the streets, and gardens adorn the middle of the roads.

My first night out of Fredricton, on the final push to the border landed me on a couch of yet another dairy farm. The next night I was driven into a Wreath factory ebcause of the rain and ice falling from the sky. I spent the night there making Christmas wreaths, then I slept on a a table covered in tree boughs.

On December 2nd I crossed my first border of this trip into the USA. The border guard gave me a rough time after I told him my age and what I was doing. He was especially confused about the fact that I was a teen from British Columbia, and I didn't have any drugs on me. He didn't search my bags, but he felt the need to scare my mom by phoning home and telling her they had me in thier custody. Finally, I proved to them that I had enough money to sustain myself, and he let me pass on a 3 month visitor visa. I met Paul in Calais, just 10 minutes after crossing the border into Maine. We pedalled all afternoon and slept my first night in the states in a Baseball Dugout.

That night we camped in the trees under a quickly built lean-to, made of some logs and my tent fly. In the morning we woke up with several liters of rain water pooled precariously above us on top of the lean-to. We made oatmeal out of it, and the warm porridge motivated us to get back to biking in the cold. That's about the time it started to snow. We stopped in at a Blueberry farm for water, and only an hour later found ourselves in a slushy white mess. The roads became like skating rinks and cars repeatedly pulled over to warn us that it only got worse up the road. Then Pauls rear tire exploded. He quickly fixed it and we hurried to the next town to find shelter from the storm. We were flagged down by Jeff, who brought us to his house 4 miles away and housed us for the night. In the morning it was very bright, but also very white, with 5 inches of freshly falled snow on the roads. It was a very cold day for biking, and most of our gears were frozen in place, making riding up and down hills interesting.

Our next night found us in Lyman and Jean's garage, curled up by the wood stove. They treated us to a delicous breakfast of porridge, bagels and orange juice before we left on the final push into Rockland, Maine, where Paul lives. We pushed all day in the cold wind and arrived after dark, in rush hour, in the rain, tired cold and hungry, and blinded by the lights of hundreds of cars on thier way home. Paul almost got run over, it was very close.

So here I am in Rockland now. We have taken a day off to get Pauls bike worked on and stock up on food, so tomorow we can start out south towards warmer climates where we can start riding again in shorts and tee shirts, as opposed to several layers of thermal clothing and coats. Today I went and talked to the local radio station and did a 15 minute show on my trip, and in about a half hour I am going to talk to the local newspaper. It's time to start getting the word out to the people. Well, here's to warm weather and no snow till we hit Florida.

Peace

Steve Fox

#13 A Short and Sweet Merry christmas

Hey everyone. Just wanted to wish you all a very happy holiday, filled with food and love and friends and family. Everything on the road is great. Any impressions and prejudices I may have had about the USA have been turned right around. The people down here, and the hospitality have been amazing, in some cases better than Canada. I am so impressed with the kindness of strangers. Everyone has been amazing. But, there will be a more in depth update later, when I have more time to write, because a lot has been happening in the last few weeks. I hope everyone has a great holiday, and remember to keep those new years resolutions to get on your bike and visit some place new. Keep the rubber side down on the slippery roads, and pass crazy bikers like myself as wide as you can.

Peace Out.

Steve Fox

#14 The Kindness of Strangers

December 30, 2006

As a warning, you may want to take some time off work to read this update, it’s kinda long. Sorry.

"Be careful in the States Steve, they practice paranoia down there", my Mom said over the phone. This was not the first time I had heard similar words about Americans. Most people I talked to in Canada had really nothing nice to say about it. I was going to be turned away every time I approached anyone, I was going to be robbed, flogged, tarred and feathered, before being told to leave. So naturally, with all these people telling me to be so careful, I was a little apprehensive about crossing the border into this new and foreign country. But, what about all the Americans I met in Canada? What about Richard and Carole, the couple who rescued me from the bear in Dryden? What about the slightly unorthodox, but very friendly people I met in Niagra Falls? I met several Americans traveling in Canada, and not once did I have a bad experience. Nevertheless, I was a little worried.

So, the last time I left you I was in Rockland, Maine, at Paul Dorr’s house. We woke up the next morning faced with about a foot of white stuff on the ground. With the slippery roads and bad weather, we decided to wait another day till the snow plows made the rounds. The day after that was spent with my bike in Bikesenjava, the local bike shop/café with a horribly bent chain, and several other broken, misshapen pieces after sliding around in the snow a little too much. My hat is off to Chris at Bikesenjava for the great job he did, and for setting up the newspaper interview.

We finally left Rockland via route 1 along the coast. We arrived in Woolwich that night, and after asking Darrell and Denny if we could sleep in their shop, we were given our own rooms in their house, each with massive beds. I really didn’t know what to do with all the foot room. In the morning we left around 6 AM, long before the sun was thinking about coming up. We stopped that afternoon to visit Eartha, the world’s largest operating globe, which is slowly spinning all the time, making a full days revolution in about 10 minutes. We wild camped that night in a water shed area.

Early the next morning, December 12th, we crossed over the border into New Hampshire. Only 18 miles (30 km’s or so) we crossed into Massachusetts. That night, and the next was spent at Paul’s sister’s house in Haverhill, Mass.

A very quick ride into Boston turned into a long day when we got quite lost in one of its suburbs. We eventually found our way to Needham, at the very south of the Boston area, where Paul knew more people, who he worked with last summer on one of the ships. We arrived quite unannounced to find them not home. So we sat on their door step till they got there, which didn’t happen until long after the sun went down. At that point everything I had heard about Americans was beginning to cross my mind. I was pretty sure they would find us there and tell us to leave, but much to my disbelief, when they arrived, we were welcomed with very open arms, fed some delicious food, and given a room inside to sleep for the night.

I left the Sandlers house the next morning on foot, bound for the commuter train. $3.50 got me into Boston for a chance to check out the sights and do the tourist thing at the Harvard University. If you’re ever in Boston, the Museum of Natural History is an amazing thing to see. One exhibit includes over 4000 hand crafted glass plants made in the 1800’s with very rudimentary tools. The plants look perfectly real. They also have a large gallery of stuffed animals, of every imaginable species. I was mentally exhausted by the end and slept through most of the train ride home. I arrived back at the Sandler’s house just in time to start eating a Sadar dinner, which is for Hanukah. It was an excellent dinner followed by relaxing and playing card games.

After a late start the next day, and many stops to talk to interested people we made it to Cumberland, Rhode Island, following an address given to us by the Sandlers. As we got closer to their house, a car pulled up to me and a man inside asked if we were biking across the country, because we were staying at his house. He directed us to his house which was at the bottom of a massive hill, then drove off. We got there to a note telling us they had gone to a Christmas party, and wouldn’t be back till late that night, to make our selves at home and to sleep in the porch. This was a huge leap of faith that really bamboozled me. Not once had people in Canada done such a thing, to leave two perfect strangers in a house alone. We had a very nice dinner of curry space food that Paul was itching to stop carrying around, watched the news and some silly sitcoms that really have a way of hypnotizing you, and then went to bed. I woke up that morning when the family came back to talk to them before they went to bed as well.

The next day we met another amazing person. As we biked across a causeway over a reservoir, a cyclist stopped to talk to us. He asked us if we needed anything, but since we were quite content with how much out bikes weighed, we declined any offers. We did need water though, which we mentioned, and he immediately turned around and escorted us to a friend’s house down the road. Once there they insisted on plying off their day old pizza with us, which amounted to about a large pizza before sending us off. We camped for free that night at the River Bend campground.

The next two nights found us in East Haddam, staying with more friends of Paul’s. Paul used to be their chef, and eagerly fell back into that role, cooking up a storm for 2 days. While there I took a leisurely walk through the surrounding forests, which included wading twice through waist deep swamps with my pants held above my head, a tree climb from one side of a creek to the other where it was too deep to walk, and several run ins with deer. It was quite entertaining.

One thing I have noticed as well is that every time Pauls bike breaks, someone always stops to ask if we are ok, drawn to his bike flipped upside down, usually as he fixes a flat tire. I only mention Paul’s bike, because mine doesn’t seem to ever break. In Pauls defense though, his bike is older than I am…

Then we met Mr. Mic. Our destination was a closed state park down the road in Clinton, Connecticut, until we saw a man waving his arms at us from the side of the road. He flagged us down and asked where we were staying that night. Before we could say anything he explained that he was a teacher in town for 22 years, that he knew a lot of people, and that we weren’t camping that night. He told us to follow him and before we could even think to object, we were following his car into town. We pulled up in front of a massive house. He knocked on the door and a young girl, whom he taught in school, opened the door. He introduced us all, and we were invited in. Her parents were not home, but he insisted on us waiting there until someone arrived. He commanded the situation very well. Mrs. Gordon arrived shortly after that with a very surprised look. Mr. Mic explained the whole situation and the Gordon Family took us in for a night. They were an amazingly friendly family. The next morning Paul and I went to the school to thank Mr. Mic for what he did, and ended up staying 2 hours to talk to his class about what we were doing. Mr. Mic is an avid bike tourist and has logged about 100, 000 miles on a tandem with his wife.

The next friendly person we met was the next day at Bully Dog Bikes in Guilford, Conn. We stopped in there to get Paul a new tire, and ended up having both bikes serviced, tuned and lubed, as well as 4 brake pads for me and a new tire and tubes for Paul for the low price of 10$ each. Our bikes could be heard purring at that point. We spent the night camped in a Wal-Mart parking lot, and had our first “bad” run in with someone, a worker at the store who didn’t like us camping there and threatened to phone the police if we didn’t leave. It was soon rectified when he talked to the manager, whom we had talked to before setting up camp, and only had to move farther away from the building. Everything worked out in the end.

In New Haven, Conn. We met up briefly for coffee with another one of Paul’s friends, and then went to the local bike shop where I traded in my low rider rack for one that I can attach things to the top of, which has helped to take some of the weight off the back tire. Then we headed up one very large hill. About half way up, we stopped to celebrate having climbed that hill, only to bike around the corner and realize we were no where near the top. At the top were a lot of very nice, but very huge and very similar houses. Knocking on these monotone behemoths proved to be useless, as no one could spare 1 out of 3 of their garage doors, or 4 square meters of their several acre back yards for some travelers. We eventually found the Sibley’s house. They put us in their garage, then left to go to a Christmas party, the second time that has happened. They came back later that night and we shared travel stories.

We spent 2 more days fighting hills and headwinds in New York State and Connecticut. The hills there are massive, and there are a lot of them. We camped one night at a resort at Bear Mountain state park and the next in a yard with a nice fire place before arriving at the much anticipated Delaware River. The road there follows the river and it is almost perfectly flat, except one very hilly section where the road goes inland. Christmas night was spent in a plastic garage in Bushkill, Pennsylvania in the pouring rain and making play dough animals for the little guy in the house. The real treat for us was Christmas morning. We left without eating and by the time we got to the next town, my stomach was beginning to eat itself, but it was all worth the excellent pancake breakfast we had.

At this point we entered into one of the most beautiful spots I have been to in the states yet, the Delaware Water gap. The Delaware River carved huge cliffs along its banks so you can see all the individual layers of rock from millions of years past. I met a man there who was quite vulgar and told me some jokes not worth repeating, but he let me in on the location of a cave that I found off to the side of the road and explored. It only went about 40 meters back, but was still fun to explore. It remains 38 F all year long.

Paul’s tire popped once again in Easton outside an apartment building. As we were sitting there a woman called down to us from the second floor asking if we wanted a beer. We declined, but at the offer of cookies, I couldn’t resist. By the time Paul finished with his tire I had secured us a place to stay on their floor for the night. We had vegetarian pizza and Stella beers for supper with our hosts.

We carried on through the water gap and crossed a small ped bridge into New Jersey to follow a lovely tow path along the Delaware canal. We camped that night in Washington Crossing state park, which is at the stop on the river where General Washington, who later became the first President, crossed the river on Christmas night in the snow and the cold to launch a surprise attack on the British in Trenton, which he won. We left the flatness of the river banks the next morning to find a bike shop for Paul’s wheel, which was now falling apart. We ended up in Etra that night camped in a very nice forest with a small camp fire. I slept outside that night by the fire watching the stars and the orange clouds floating passed.

We are now staying in Brick, NJ, at one more friend of Pauls. We met Ian last night at a Scottish Fish and Chip shop where he works, and spent several hours in Barnes and Noble reading a book waiting for him to get off work. Last night was very entertaining, with about 7 people (I think) and several cases of beer. Needless to say we have decided to stay a day in favor of writing this update as to biking with a hangover.

So as you may be able to see, you can’t really believe everything people tell you, especially those who have never been to the place they are talking about. It may sound strange, and even most Americans I tell this to are surprised, but it has been easier to find places to sleep and to meet people in the States than in Canada. People really are good if you just look hard enough, and smile pretty while they are eyeing you up on their door step.

Till next time, may your hills be small and few.

Peace Out

Steve Fox

#15 Out of the Northern states

So, it's been a few days since my last update. I have been really busy biking, covering lots of ground in an attempt to get to the Mexican border before my visa expires, which is getting closer and closer. I am now in Spartanburg, South Carolina staying with some amazing people I met on the Outer Banks in North Carolina.

I last left you in Brick, New Jersey on Dec 30th. Paul and I left his friends house that morning heading south along the coast. We ended up in Stafford, New Jersey and made camp in a forest in the middle of town. While setting up my tent I managed to break one of the poles in half, so I picked up some logs off the ground and threw a lean to together, with my tent draped over it. It worked well until the rain started. I was very wet the next morning. Just as we went to bed in the lean to I heard some screeching tires and the sound of metal on metal and glass breaking. I grabbed my little first aid kit and dodged out of the bushes to see if I could help out and found a head on collision. No one was hurt, just a little shaken up, but it really made me want to stay out of cars as much as possible. That night instead of going to sleep I went out wandering down to the beach, watched some New Years fire works and stumbled into a garage party. I stayed there most of the night doing keg stands and bringing in the new year, stumbling home (to the tent) around 7 am to find Paul getting ready to leave. We agreed that since I was in no fit condition to bicycle that day, and because I had been offered some work by the guy whose party I was at last night, that I should stay and sleep and go make some money, and that we may meet up somewhere down the road. I think I asleep before Paul left. I didn't get to go to work however. I broke camp after a few hours of being rained on and made my way to the house in Manahawkin. When I got there I found some Jewish Apple Cake in the refrigerator, so I had a small piece. That small piece left me very sweaty and shivery on the couch, and several times wrapped around the toilet that night. The cake was not so great...

I left the next day as I had the feeling I had outstayed my welcome, although i was kind of delirious all day. Late in the afternoon I pedaled passed a bike shop on the side of the road. I didn't pay any attention at first, but after getting down the road in my delirium, realized I needed water, so i turned around. A few minutes of taking with Quas and Terry in the shop and I was invited to stay in their yard in Seaville, just down the road. I met them there and was put up on their couch for the night. In the morning Quas rode with me for half the day to the ferry terminal at Cape May. I took that ferry to Lewes in Delaware and found a very nice camp site near the beach in Henlopen State Park. I spent the night outside by my fire playing by drum.

I left late the next morning because of a long walk I took to the beach and a quick swim in the icy water. It also began to rain soon after I left, so rather than fight the weather I found a beach house to hole up in under the roof. It rained pretty hard all day and into the night, but the next day riding into Ocean City, Maryland was gorgeous. it was +20 degrees Celsius all day, which is amazing weather for January. In Ocean City I stopped in at Continental Cycle where the guy there told me about a restaurant called SeaCrets and that they had a radio show. I found my way there and was invited in to do a quick radio show for the guys there, then was treated to an excellent meal. the cool thing about this place was the floor was made of sand. It was like walking on the beach. They had a lot of plants and greenery in there as well. Very cool resturant. I made my camp in a farmers yard that night.

I had a very uneventful day on January 7th, aside from a flat tire which i fixed in the rain. I started again in the morning but right away I had a blow out on my back tire that shredded most of my sidewall, and conveniently enough for me, there were no bike shops to be heard of in the area. I left my bike near where the blow out happened and hitch hiked into the nearest store that had tires to pick one up and bring it back to my bike, but the girl who picked me up took me back to my bike and took everything to the shop so as to not let it sit in the rain. I get the tire fixed, but had very little will to move that day in the pouring rain, so I chilled out in the store talking to all the customers that came in. A big thanks to Jason Kirby at the Western Auto store for letting me hang out there and letting me camp in this back yard.

I spent most of the next day hitch hiking again, this time to cross a bridge tunnel into Virginia Beach. I had no luck until I got a flat about 1 mile from the tunnel and someone picked me up in their truck. I would have liked to bike the bridge tunnel, but it is 20 miles long and has no shoulders to speak of. It's also illegal for bikes, pedestrians, tractors and horses. I met a very nice guy shortly after that as he was walking his dog down a path. He immediately invited me to sleep in his back yard and spent the night in his beach-front island-house resort/fire watch tower of a tree house in his back yard.

I left Will's house in Virginia Beach after an excellent breakfast of pancakes and made my way south to Knot ts Island to catch a ferry. This was kind of by accident as I had made a wrong turn, but it worked out in the end and I don't think I lost any time in the process. I got a sunset ferry ride out of the deal. I camped in the Waddels house that night.

From there I followed the coast to the outer banks, which was an amazing ride. I spent about 5 days cycling down a perfectly flat road with sand dunes on both sides. The outer Banks are simply a long sand dune pushed up by hurricanes about 20 miles off shore. The first night out there was spent at Kitty Hawk, the site of the Wright Bros. first flight. The second night there I met some very amazing people, who I am staying with in Spartanburg now. It was under some strange coincidences that I found them, too. I first talked to a man named Richard, asking if I could camp in his yard. the problem there was that he didn't have a yard, but he told me about a nice camp site his friend owned, so I went to find it. i saw the sign, but saw no vehicles there, so I guessed no one was around to ask and carried on. The next spot I stopped was apparently an auto shop. There were a lot of broken VW's in the yard. I asked the guy there and he said OK, but as I was setting up my tent, I realized I didn't want to camp near all the broken cars, so I packed up again and went a little farther down the road. That's when I stumbled into the Fort's home. Before I could ask to camp in their yard, John explained that he had seen me biking on the road, and Tricia asked me if i needed a place to sleep and a meal. Within 2 minutes I was being hugged, and escorted to the kitchen where supper was almost ready. It's always amazing to meet people like the Forts who are so good to people. I was even treated to a bubble bath, which was excellent. I stayed with them an extra day.

I had a ferry to catch the next day, so I boogied to Hatteras to catch the 4 o'clock one. I biked late that night so as to be in the right spot for the very early morning ferry to get me off Ocracoke Island and back onto the mainland. I camped right at the ferry terminal and got up for the 7 AM departure.

I have now entered the Bible belt. I have also had better luck with sleeping at churches than ever before. I camped under one of their picnic areas, then I was sent to a church to sleep inside the next night, and the following night was spent pitched behind another church. One reflection I have so far of the south is that most people are very nice, but some are extremely rude when approached. For instance, I ran out of water at one point and knocked on a door to fill my bottles. The lady there told me to drink out of the ditch...I have also had more doors slammed on me and more people yell at me than ever before. It is very strange. In the end I always manage to find nice people though.

This past week has been one of many bike problems. I broke my chain twice, have had no luck with derailleurs, and I have discovered that I have two very loose wheels. In Lumberton, North Carolina I had to fix my very broken chain in a tire shop, and turned my bike into a one speed for a while, till it broke again. Thanks to the guys at the shop for letting me hang out in the dry warm shop for a while. I ended up staying in a motel that night after it broke the second time and hitched a ride to Fayetteville to get a new chain and sort out some other bike troubles.

I made it to Laurinville that night and stayed in the Hester's yard with their goats. After another uneventful day crossing into South Carolina I made it into Chester where I stopped at the fire department to warm by bones, as i saw a light on in there. The man there called some people and eventually got me a place to stay in another hotel and police escort through the rain.

January 22nd was a very solid day. I made it into Spartanburg in a hurry, and barely stopped all day, except to eat, and get more water. I arrived around 2:30 PM at the Forts house after 8 days of riding from their beach house in Salvo on the Outer Banks. they have a huge house, big enough to get lost in for several days at a time. Being in Spartanburg also means that i am back into the mountains. From the time Paul and I got to the Delaware river till about 4 days ago, the roads were perfectly flat with no more than a 2-3% grade at any given time. It's been very nice riding. Back in the hills though, it's much different.

Well, to cut this short, I have a newspaper meeting to make it to in about an hour and a bike that really needs some work done to it, so I need to get to work. thanks for tuning in my friends.

Peace Steve

Fox in Spartanburg, South Carolina

#16 Of Southern Hospitality…

Last I left you, I was in Spartanburg, NC. I had planned to take a day or two off to work on the bike, get some laundry done and relax. A week later I was back on the road. I had a lot of fun in Spartanburg, hanging out with Emily and her friends, cooking amazing food and doing some very heavy relaxing. I managed to fix the bike eventually and get back on the road around Jan. 30th as the Mexican border was calling me. Given more time, I would have stayed longer. The Fort Family was truly amazing to me, and I’m not sure I have met nicer people.

Back on the road I caught wind of a news report or two forecasting heavy rain and a good possibility of snow. With this in mind I knocked on a door around 7 pm, well after the sun had set and asked if they could help me out. I was invited in by the son, and soon after the father arrived and I ran my request passed him. He didn’t really say anything, but walked out the door with hid phone in his hand, leaving me with his 2 kids in their 20’s and his frail old mother who looked about 80. Within 20 minutes or so 3 police officers walked through the back door, all packin’, and almost arrested me, but I was so cooperative in getting my ID and explaining what I was doing that they really couldn’t take me in. They gave me to ultimatum that I could go get a hotel room 10 miles down the road (keep in mind its already after 8 pm and very dark) or they could arrest me and I could sleep in a cell. My budget and sense of adventure told me I should go with them, but my better half told me to carry on down the road and not cause trouble. I ended up following a pastor (everyone down south is a pastor) to the Salvation Army where I got a bed to sleep in.

7 AM in the pouring rain and heavy, sticky snow, the Salvation Army kicked me out. Within an hour or so I was drenched, as the moisture permeates even the heaviest of rain gear. I stopped at a church and asked if I could warm up, then pedaled to the pastors house where I was able to dry out a bit and get some food. I crossed the Savannah River later that afternoon after the snow had stopped falling and went to TG’s house to fill up on water. He quickly invited me inside, fed me, and insisted on getting me a hotel room for the night. TG is another pastor, and they hand out hotel rooms like they hand out socks in Newfoundland, which is often.

In the morning I met with TG and a very eccentric reporter who took all day to get my story, which included taking me out for Mexican food and giving me the grand tour of the town of Lincolnton. We finished up late in the afternoon, and with the sun on its way down, I asked if I could stay with one of the reporters, who took me home and took me out to karaoke that night.

The next afternoon I pulled down a little back road and found a nice place to eat lunch on a fallen tree. I reclined after that and had a little power nap until the wind picked up suddenly and almost knocked me off the tree. I packed up quickly and just as I was pulling out of the road a man with a gun pulled up asking what I was doing on his property. I explained my lunch situation and he put the gun down and let me go. I passed through Greensboro that day and camped in a hunting blind 15 meters in the air.

The next 2 days were uneventful aside from having a cup of soda thrown at me from a passing vehicle. On Feb. 6th I stopped at a beautiful house and asked if I could camp in the yard, but they invited me inside, so I cooked them supper of salmon steaks and rice. They were very impressed so they gave me the address of their niece in Tallahassee, Florida.

While in Albany, Georgia, I passed a little shop called BioBuzz and spent most of the afternoon there hanging out. It’s a very cool little store, if you’re a little left wing. I camped in a Pecan grove near Camilla that night.

The next morning I made it into Florida and headed straight into Tallahassee. I phoned the contacts I had there to find a place to crash and ended up following the address of Eve, the niece of the people I cooked for. Her room mate was a little leary about me staying there, but I turned down their offer to take me out to supper and cooked for them instead, after which they agreed to let me stay. The next day I left, bound for a bike shop to fix my cones again, as I didn’t get them fixed properly in Spartanburg. I ended up going to Krank It Up a free community bike shop where I fixed almost every thing, until I found out that my chain had popped off the gears at some point and tore the spokes on my rear wheel to pieces. Luckily it held together long enough for me to get to a bike shop the next day. I was invited to a pot luck dinner that night and enjoyed a very cool game of bike polo. That was a lot of fun. Bike polo is like polo on horses, only on bikes. I went to Joes Bikes where I got a new wheel and had my bike looked after.

While in Joes bike shop I met Jason, who had just hobbled back form mountain biking on a broken bike. He had toured across the states last year and knew how cool it was for locals to approach him with cool ideas about things to do in town, so he asked if I wanted to go spelunking, or caving. I agreed so we grabbed some food and took off to the caves. We spent about 3 hours under ground wading through creeks and crawling through mud and tiny holes. It was really a beautiful cave with lots of stalactites and a very nice fissure. I also went for a swim in the little under ground lake. That night we went to a Sheesha bar in town and smoked a hookah. I met the owner and told a lot of people about what I was doing.

Jason and I left the next morning and headed west. Jason came with me for about 30 miles then caught the tail wind back into Tallahassee. I camped that night on the banks of the Chipola River and had a near run in with what I thought was an alligator…turned out to be fish jumping in the river. If only I had known that the night before, I would have slept better.

I stopped at a natural spring the next morning and met chuck who gave me a fishing rod. I caught a little bass but nothing worth keeping. That night I stopped at Remonia’s house, and she insisted that instead of camping in her yard that I should stay in the motel in Ebro, courtesy of her. I had no choice, so I went. That night I over heard a man come into the hotel looking for a room after the lobby had closed for the night. The cranky lady at the front desk told him to leave so he offered her cash and said he could go sleep in his truck. She told him to leave again, so I asked him if he needed some help. He had run out of gas and needed to phone home to let his family know what was going on, so I let him use my room phone. He gave me his phone # before he left and told me to stop in the next day when I got to Destin. In the morning I went to thank her and got corralled into some tea, and just as I was getting ready thunder cracked the air and the rain started, so I opted out of riding and went to the race track to watch some dogs run around in circles all day long. Fun stuff…

I made Destin the next day and stayed with Tim, the guy I met the night before. He owns a barber shop in Destin, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make me beautiful. No point fighting a losing battle. Travelling into and out of destin along highway 98 is insane. It’s nothing but tourists behind the wheel and they drive like animals, but I survived. I ended up that night camped beside a lake in someones back yard.

Into Mississippi the next day and headed into Mobile. I caught my first Mardi Gras Parade there and loaded up on all sorts of different colored beads and things. In Mobile is Africatown, which is where the last ship of slaves landed after slavery was abolished, so they set up the first free town in America there.

I made it into Biloxi the next day with some difficulty. The bridge on highway 90 was out from Hurricane Katrina and the detour took me to the Interstate. I got pulled over there within 2 miles and was told to go back to the exit I took to get there. So I tried hitch hiking across. I stood there in the baking sun covered in Mardi Gras beads looking for someone going to New Orleans for about an hour before another cop pulled over and tried to arrest me before I talked my way out of it, playing the dumb tourist. He told me hitch hiking was illegal and that I had to go back a mile and take a back road, which took me to the parade. I tried passing the parade until I got pulled off to the side by yet another officer of the law and told I couldn’t ride my bike. I gave him the excuse that my visa was running out but he didn’t care. So I sat there under police surveillance for 3 hours while the parade slowly floated by. Around 4 I managed to get out of town and around the washed out bridge. I ended up in Free port at the Gospel Singers Of America’s house sleeping on the floor of a spare room.

I had banked on making it to New Orleans that day, but I ran into some bike trouble with my chain near Slidell, Louisiana and had to take highway 190 as opposed to 90 into New Orleans. The bike shops were all closed that day for Mardi Gras. So I had no choice but to keep on keepin’ on. Highway 190 is a bad road. Heavy traffic, no paved shoulder and what shoulder there is is covered in debris which resulted in 4 flats that day and I ran out of patches. I also had an interesting run in with a trucker. I was riding the white line and he didn’t like that so he honked, his way of telling me that he wasn’t going to move and I had to. So I dove off the road and he followed me into the shoulder, going about 70 miles per hour in traffic. I wasn’t ready to take that, so I flipped him off. So he stopped. Then he started backing up. I dove into the ditch and he stopped a few feet short of me. Then he got out, sporting a large knife on his belt. We had some words, he approached me and I quickly talked my way out of the situation by subtly telling him to piss off as I hid behind my bike. He left and as he pulled out he spun his tires, spraying my with gravel. It must have been soon after that when he got on his CB and told every trucker in Louisiana that some biker was being disrespectful, because all the truckers honked at me and gave me dirty looks. Its not a good thing to get on the bad side of the truckers. I ended up with my last flat of that rough day and pushed my bike to a gas station to inquire about buses bound for Mexico, of there were few. I ended up staying that night and the next with Jim at his house while I worked the kinks out of my bike and washed everything I had. I sent a large box of things home, mostly Mardi Gras souviners and junk from the bottom of my bags that I had been carting around uselessly. My bike is much lighter now.

I left Jims on the bike trail, which was a nice change from the horrible 190. I took highway 22 out of town bound for Baton Rouge. That night I stopped in at Mikes yard and left the next morning back on 190, which had gotten much better although there were some patchy spots. I found a strawberry stand around noon and had some berries for lunch, then continued on to Baton Rouge. I got into town late in the day and had no choice but to push it late that night to get out. Crossing the bridge over the Mississippi River was insane. It was about a kilometer across with no shoulder, very heavy traffic and fading sunlight. Most people there were very respectful, thankfully, and gave me a lot of room. On the other side of the bridge I started looking for a spot to camp and took the first driveway I saw, only to be chased out by a very angry old man who called me several nasty names and followed very close behind me out of his driveway in his car, honking all the way. I managed to find a very nice lady who let me camp in her yard a little way down the road. One thing about camping down south here is the humidity at night. I often wake up in the morning very damp and sometimes very cold, even in the sleeping bag. This would explain why I got sick about a week ago. Being sick while riding isn’t fun at all, when your body aches more than it normally would.

I left her house around noon after a very entertaining conversation. A few miles down the road I met up with 2 hitch hikers. I stopped and talked to them for about an hour, and found out that they were from Seattle and were headed to Florida. They also said they had never had a more difficult time thumbing than in the Southern states. I hope they made it across that bride in Baton Rouge alright. Later that day however, I was in their shoes when my chain broke outside of Krotz Springs…and so did my chain tool…making it impossible to fix. I stuck out my thumb and stood around for about an hour until Art picked me and took me into Opelousas where he had some tools. Last night we tried to fix it but decided it was best to head to a bike shop and get the parts I needed to do it right. So I stayed at his house, camped in his back yard. I also go the opportunity to sample some local Louisiana food, known and crawfish. They are little lobster looking bugs that like in the mud and are kind of like shrimp. We got 10 lbs of them and between the 2 of us, we killed the whole bag of deliciously seasoned mud bugs. They are a lot of fun to eat and if you really get into them, you can make some gross sounds as you suck the juice out of their heads and crush their shells to squirt the succulent innards out. MMMM. We watched the movie Cars last night as well. This is for you Art: The word of the day today is Mallow Mint Marsh Pepper…also known as Marshmallow Peppermint spelled sideways. Just for you, man.

So now it is today. My visa expires In 6 days and I am still 400 miles from the Mexican border. 400 miles converts to about 640 KM, so I would need to put on some huge days to make it on time. So here I am, cruising down I 10 going about 70 miles an hour bound for the Texas Line, courtesy of Art, who drove me to Laffeyette to Precision Bikes where Josh hooked me up with some great service. I normally wouldn’t take rides, but this 100 mile head start will save me a lot of time, and possibly put me back on track to making the border in time. It will be tight, but there’s a good chance ill be on time. Hopefully.

I would just like to say a little bit about the “Southern Hospitality”. It doesn’t exists anymore. After Hurrican Katrina blew through it has taken a turn for the worst. People no longer open doors. I have had more guns pointed at me in the last week than in my entire life. I have had more people yell at me and call me names and be out right rude than on this entire trip. I have had more things thrown at me from vehicles in the last few weeks than I ever had. People have become paranoid. If you recall in my last email I said that all the stereotypes and opinions I had about Americans were completely backwards, I still hold true to that. I was told by everyone that the south would be better than the north, but it is a changed place. People just don’t like people anymore. This is not to discourage anyone from coming to the swamp. It is a lovely place full of panthers and gators and skeeters oh my, and there are still a lot of people who are friendly and helpful and very nice, but there are many scared people. Now, to try to discourage people, my advice for traveling by bike is: Don’t. Its rough. Especially the roads. Save yourself some gray hairs. However, I urge you to do what I do. Don’t take peoples advice seriously and do it any way. Mexico here I come.

Peace and love, and happy Mardi Gras

Steve Fox

Archive "Steve`s World Bike Trip - Canada"

2007-05-14T10:16:00.000-07:00

Update's From Canada

#1 Trip Itinerary April 8th, 2006

Contained in this update my itinerary for my trip. so far only the canadian section is very detailed, and it is even subject to change without prior notice. Ill be leaving Hinton, AB, Canada on May 1st, 2006. The following dates correspond to where I will be arriving, approximatley, give or take a few days. These dates are very tenative.

Hinton, AB - May 1st
Prince George, BC - May 6th
Vancouver, BC - May 13th
Calgary, AB - May 31th
Edmonton, AB - June 7th
Saskatoon, SASK - June 15th
Regina - June 20th
Winnipeg, MAN - June 30th
Kenora, ONT - July 28th
Sault St. Marie, ONT - August 7th
Toronto, ONT - August 18th
Ottowa, ONT - August 24th
Quebec City, QUE - August 29th
"Tour Maritime Provinces": New Brunswick, PEI, NOva Scotia, Newfoundland between August 30th - September 30th approx.
Portland, Maine, USA - September 30th
New York, New York, USA - October 5th
I need to be in New York to catch the Queen Mary II on November 5th, 2006, so, ill probably be taking my time through Canada and the top of the United States, so more if im coming to visit you in one of those regions, add a few days to the tenative date provided. Also, I'll be stopping to visit quite a few people along the way, and ive tried to add in the approximate amount of dates that I'll be staying, but i really have no idea at this point in the game.
Southampton, England - November 11th
I will be touring Britain and Ireland for about 2 months before heading to France, Spain, Portugal, Italy, and Austria before April 25th
Veinna, Austria - April 25thI'll then be touring Northern and Eastern Europe for another few months, arriving in Tangier, Morocco, Africa by fall 2007.
From there it is all speculation, but I plan on touring the entire Atlantic and Indian oceans coastlines in Africa before going briefly through the middle east. This will take me about 12-18 months. Then into Asia and Austria, for about a year and finally along the entire Pacific coastline of North and South America, for about 18 months. This is all speculation though, as I dont know what will happen between now and then, and the entire route may be subject to change, depending on what road looks nicest. All in all, it looks like about a 5 year trip.
I'll also be sending this email via my google group, which you can sign up for at http://groups.google.ca/group/stevesworldbiketrip. Sending emails to everyone on my list is difficult to do in hotmail because I can only send to a certain amount of people at a time, this Google Group makes it easy for me to send it to everyone at once, so sign up if you want to catch the important emails. Also, if you havent done so already, and if I am coming to pay a visit with you, send me your address and phone # so I can find your house, and to make sure that I pencil it onto my map.Well if there are any questions about my route, let me know, and I'll try to answer them as best I can. Hope to hear and see everyone soon.
Steve Fox

#2 On the Yellowhead, Highway 16

May 12th, 2006

HelloIm writing to you now from the 28 Inn in New Hazelton, British Colombia, Canada. I know what your thinking, "Say what, Steve isn's supposed to be there..." but, I am in fact, here, I assure you. I am here because there has yet again be a spur of the moment change of plans. When I got to Prince George, I decided it best to carry on to Burns lake and Houston, to visit some people I knew. From there, I found out that the cost of the ferry from Prince Rupert to Port Hardy on Vancouver Island was relativly cheap, so that's what Im doing. Taking the ferry. This will give me a chance to relax for a while off the bike, as Ive been going hard for the last 12 days straight with very little time off the bike. From Port Hardy, I'll tour the Island, and be in Vancouver by the 20th, where hopefully Ill ride the last few kilometers with Colin Angus and Julie Wafaei,as they finish off their soley Human powered circumnavigation of Earth.

The ride up here has be awesome so far, Im having a great time, and my body is slowly but surely getting used to putting on close to 100 km a day. The mountains and the scenery I've seen is amazing. I passed by mount Robson early in my travels, and it's huge. I would suggest that as one of those things too see before you die. There are some amazing places here in BC. As for wildlife, I've seen 5 black bears, one of which was this morning just outside of where I camped, a fox, also today, tons of deer and a few moose.

The weather has been a bit weird though. For example, on the very first night, it snowed almost an inch, just outside of Jasper. It has snowed severl times since then, and rained almost every day, but not quite. There were some sunny days in there, enough to burn my left ear, even with repeated sunscreenings. I was also caught in a tornado, or probably more of a simple dust storm trying to be a tornado. It happened yesterday, as I was departing from Smithers. I was biking along the highway, when, out of the blue, came the spinning death from above. The wind picked up enough to stop me dead on a flat peice of road, and it proceeded to lift my 2 front panniers off the rack, and trown then a few meters, at the same time, sand blasting my face. It lasted about 10 seconds, and then, as suddenly as it had arrived, it was gone again...leaving me standing quite rock pummeled, in the midle of a clean patch of road.

Well, thats it for now, ill try to keep everyone in the loop as much as I can. feel free to write

Steve

#3 Southern BC and back Into Alberta

June 13th, 2006

Good day my family, friends, and faithful followers.This latest update comes to you from near my departure point, in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, a mere 3 day ride from Hinton. I will not be going west to Hinton though, as sad as that makes my mom. I`m sorry mom. No, instead, tomorow I will continue East in an almost straight line all the way to the east coast.

Ok, to recap on the past few weeks:

My last update came from New Hazelton, in the heart of British Columbia. From there I made my way to Prince Rupert on the coast and the scenery proceeded to do nothing but get more beautiful as I rolled along. One of the most amazing places I saw was the Exchamskis Park, which was an old camp site that was returned to nature to protect the massive trees that grow there. As much as I would have liked to take pictures of them, my camera had been broken since Terrace, BC, so I can only say go see it for yourself.

Once in Prince Rupert I stayed in a hostel for the first time, and it was a very rewarding experience. I also had the opportunity there to work for my stay, and managed to pay off my dorm room for the night and end up with some pocket change for dinner, and all I had to do was work on my tan (which is coming along fine after my very bad burning coming into Prince Rupert) in the back yard. I also met Claus from Denmark, whom I have since run into several times on the road. It so happened that we were in the same hostel, shared the same ferry, shared yet another hostel in Port Hardy, and met once more in Nanaimo. For the record, I won our race to Nanaimo, even though I was on a bike and he was bussing and hitchhiking, thus proving that bikes are faster.

Anyways, as I continued down Vancouver Island I met up with Ira Sutherland. That day I was having a rough time as my sun burn from the previous week was beginning to itch uncontrollably, almost to the point where I could no longer carry on biking. Thanks the the help from a couple in an RV, I was given some temporary relief with calomine lotion and aspirin, but that soon wore off. I was helped only by meeting Ira, who gave me someone to talk to and a reson not to concentrate on my itching back. I pedalled with Ira, who is biking across Canada this summer, for 2 days on the island before he sprinted ahead to Nanaimo to catch an early ferry, whereas I planned on taking my time getting there.

From Nanaimo I hopped on the ferry to Vancouver. I arrived later than I had expected, so I went to Ambleside Beach and camped behind a large statue right next to the Lions Gate Bridge. Then next morning I crossed the said bridge and toured about in Stanley Park, which has some amazing bike paths cutting along the ocean and into old growth forests filled with massive slugs and black squirrels. I carried on through the massive urban sprawl of Vancouver and its surrounding cities, which seemed to go on forever. It took me 2 days to make it through, and at the end I was quite finished with city driving and on my last nerve. I made it passed Hope and camped for 2 days on the side of the road in the pouring rain, resting, eating, reading and attempting to dry some things out. It had been raining for 3 days and everything was wet. It wouldn't stop raining for quite a few more days either. Wet tents are a pain to carry.

The road to Merritt, BC followed the Thompson River before punching through a desert. Once in Merritt, I ran into a hill, which didn't stop going up at obscene gradients until I reached the Okanogan Valley, which sent me on a 30 KM descent into a head wind. What a waste of a good hill. I arrived in Kelowna and met Alwyn and Val from London and cycled with them to a camp site (my third campsite of the trip) in Kelowna. The next day I left the Okanogan Valley and followed the Trans Canada Highway through 3 mountain ranges and over 2 very satisfying mountain passes. I met Stewart and Karen from Austria and camped in a campsite for the fourth time just outside of Golden. I camped for my last night in BC just inside Yoho National Park before making the home stretch back into Alberta, the land where I can legally buy alchohol. Hurray.

I left Canmore and spent 3 days biking to Wetaskawin, pulling off over 120 km a day for 3 days straight. I have since done about 130 km in the last 5 days, spending a lot of time visiting friends and relaxing before heading off into the vast plains of central Canada on my way to the East Coast.

You'll be happy to hear too that almost everything is holding out on my body and my bike. I say almost because some things have started to wear down, such as my patience with bad drivers. But that aside, I bent my front wheel on Vanvouver Island when a logging truck passed way too close for my liking and forced me off the 12 inch wide shoulder causing my front pannier to fall off, catching my spokes and putting a really nice wobble in my day. I did get it straightened in Campbell river, but that was still a 50 KM ride on a wrecked wheel. I have also worn out my rear tire. I noticed after about 1000 kilometers it was starting to wear out a bit, and just inside the Alberta border after being worn down right to the inner tube, it blew a flat, or rather, several flats all at once, writing off both the tube and the tire. I had planned ahead though, and bought a new tire a few days prior, so a simple switch and I was off again.Well, to sum everything up so far, this trip has been absolutly amazing. Im really looking forward to continuing travelling into unchartered territory as I have never really been much farther east than Edmonton. I would also like to thank everyone who has helped me out along the way so far. Whether it was by letting me sleep in your back yard, helping me with directions, or just showing an enourmous amount of kindness, you've made an impact on me, and I've only just started my journey. You guys and girls all rock. Thank you.Peace Out

Steve Fox

#4 Where You Can Watch your Dog Run Away for 3 days...

The Never-ending Canadian Prairies

Im writing to you now from Thunderbay, Ontario, Canada, where I'm in a swanky hotel room for no less than 98$ a night...But more on why I'm stuck here to come. All that matters is that I made it through the prairies with my sanity intact and the will to go on. I must admit, although there were some tough stretches where, if not for the curve of the Earth I would be able to see forever, but the people and the places I saw greatly made up for it.

As soon as I left Edmonton on my way to Saskatchewan it started getting very flat. I made really good time, but with nothing to do, you sometimes catch yourself carrying on fluent conversations with the wind. My first stop was in Saskatoon where I stayed with a friend from way back in the day in Basic Cadet camp, almost 5 years ago. I arrived in saskatoon via car as I broke my rear wheel in the middle of the land with no bike shops and couldnt find a replacement anywhere I looked, which included 4 sports stores in Lloydminister and a Canadian Tire. I was forced to hitchhike the equivelant of a 3 days ride to find a new wheel. As guilty as I feel for sticking my thumb out, there was just no way I was going to sling my heavy bike over my shoulder and walk 300 KM, as hardcore as I may be.

The next stop was Regina, where I happened to come across the McCusker Family who graciously put me up in there house, fed me amazing food and took me out to see the sites of Regina, which included a bridge belonging to England and an ice cream stand. I carried on from there to Estevan, but a pencil lead on the map up from the USA border where I stayed with another friend from camp back in the day.

I worked my way north again to Winnipeg, Manitoba, just in time for Canada day, but with no where to stay, regardless of how many people I knew there. One was leaving the day after I arrived and one's parents weren't home, so I ended up for 3 days in the Ivey House Hostel. It was a great stay, and I met up with Ira Sutherland, and his friend who are biking across Canada. I met Ira on Vancouver Island for the first time, and upon departing I said I would meet him in Winnipeg. Coincidentally we were lodged in the same Hostel. Winnipeg was a lot of fun, plus I got my second chance to work, this time at a berry farm, where I paid off lunch and made some extra money picking berries. I left Winnipeg with Ira and Cam heading due East. We took the scenic route through Whiteshell Provincial Park and left the prairies at long last. We entered the Canadian Shield which is the oldest rock formation on the planet, and was at one point covered in several kilometers of Ice in the last Ice Age. All the exposed rocks make for some great afternoons eating lunch by a lake and bouldering till my hearts content.

Upon entering the Sheild though, we also entered bear country again, which is a big part of the reason that I'm in a hotel now. It all started last night as I was looking for a spot to camp. I found a rest stop with a couple in an RV and decided to stay the night as the sun was going down and the mosquitos were coming out. I ate supper and set up my bear hang in a tree quite a ways away, then fell asleep. Around 2:20 AM I was awoken to the sounds of somthing breathing heavily near my tent and walking around. I knew right away it was a bear so I stayed quiet so as not to frighten it, waiting till it had moved away to start making noise. I heard Garbage cans toppling over and I began saying "Whoa bear, Get away bear, no food here" and just making general conversation with the night in an attempt to let it know i was there and possibly scare it away. It stuck around though, and started getting close to my tent again, so I grabbed my knife and talked louder. I got loud enough that I was a light flick on in the RV. They thought someone was stealing the gas out of their truck, but soon realized it was a bear, not a thief. They honked a few times and the bear retreated, so I went to their RV for coffee, all this at about 2:50 AM. A few minutes later, Richard went out for a cigarette, and called in saying " Hey Steve, when you left your tent, was it standing?" A little confused, I got out and sure enough, my tent was gone, laying on its side about 10 feet away from where I left it, completly shredded. Not 10 minutes after my dash to the RV, the bear had invaded and ripped my tent, sleeping bag and air mattress to peices. In the morning, after being up for several hours already I had to hitchhike into Thunderbay to find a new tent, as I was 3 days ride away and tentless. The reason I'm in a hotel now is there is really no cheaper accomadation like a hostel in town, and I was turned away from one cheap place because I had no credit card. Maybe a thing to look into getting?

Well, aside from the huge expenses ive incured with staying in hotels and buying new camping gear, and the near mauling last night, everything has been amazing. The people have been excellent to me (except the guy who wouldnt let me fill my water bottles from a hose in the middle of no where) and although boring at some times, the scenery is, in hindsight, breathtaking. I do have a feeling of guiltiness for having to hitchhike about 600 km, but I'm just going to look at those experiences as more stories to tell people later on. A huge thanks to Richard and Carole last night for helping me out in a time of need, and to that bear, for not eating me. Especially to the bear. Thanks for tuning in guys, I'm out for the night.

Steve Fox in Thunderbay, Ontario

#5 Neverending Ontario, complete with more bear encounters, lovely lakes and other bikers

Good Morning, or possibly good evening. Hope everyone out there is having a good time at whatever they happen to be doing. i know I sure am.

I'm writing to you from Espanola, Ontario, which is on an island in Lake Huron. It's taken a long time to get just this far, and I'm only half way across Ontario. It's HUGE, but it's slowly getting smaller. So, Thunder Bay was a rough time. After staying one night in that hotel, and convinently landing there on a Sunday when nothing in Thunder Bay is open, I needed to find some new accomadations. First I tried another much cheaper hotel, at $50 a night. They were full, so I tried another, but had no luck without a credit card handy. I biked to the youth hostel, and a swath of other high priced accomadations only to be turned away. The youth hostel was closed, or as I found out when I left town, 30 km away. I tried phoning several Bed and Breakfasts, hoping one of them would have room, but everything seemed to be full, possibly a result of the bluegrass festival happening as that time. I even tried the homeless shelter, only to find it full of people, most of them coincidentally not very well off, and me on an expensive looking bike loaded with gear...not a good combination. So I made my way back to my original hotel, stopping at various places to find some internet access to get onto Warm Showers, only to be turned away several times in hotels when asking to get on thier computers. Eventually I found myself sitting in the lobby of the Comfort Inn pondering whether or not to bite it and pay another $98 to stay another night and boogie the next day. Then my solution as to staying in that hotel came in the form of an old man. He had a reservation and had asked over the phone to have 2 downstairs rooms, as he had 2 women with canes with him. The hotel had put him in 2 top level rooms. Over hearing the mans dilemna and wanting to help, thinking of only the old women, I asked if he needed any help carrying his bags upstairs. He declined, saying that he would make due, and left. Then the woman at the desk asked me to get out, on the grounds that I was harrassing customers. For the first time i had to debate feircly with myself, to the point of a near fist fight, to not get on a bus and go home. I managed to convince myself to stay, saying it would get better and departed on my quest to find a spot to sleep. After knocking on several doors, and being told very rudely by some to go away, I found Mahlis (I hope I spelled your name right) who offered up her house. That was just in time too, as I was strongly considering buying a tarp and sleeping in a park. That night Joanne, Mahlis' mom, BBQ'ed steaks, shrimp and a large variety of food. I want to take this opportunity to thank you all for putting me up for those 2 days while i sorted out my equipment. You ladies rock. Thanks so much.

I managed to get a new tent and some other various peices of gear that got totalled by the bear of death and made my way out of Thunder Bay in one peice with a new will to go on. On my way out of town I passed by the Terry Fox Memorial. For those of you who don't know, Terry Fox attempted to run across Canada to raise money for Cancer research, after losing a leg to Cancer. He had to stop his trip prematurely near thunder bay as the cancer had reappeared. He died shortly after without finishing his Marathon Of Hope.

In the next few days nothing overly exciting happened until I got to Marathon, ONT. I rolled over a screw and popped a tire just outside of Marathon and was forced to stop for the night. I stayed near a lake on the opposite side of a campground and woke up around 5:45 AM to a paw hitting my tent trying to get in just above my head. But this time I was prepared. Within 5 seconds or so I was out of my tent, bear spray in one hand, knife in the other (I now sleep with these items), yelling profanities as the bear ran into the trees. In another 15 minutes my tent was packed and I was rolling away shouting at the bear that was still lurking around in the trees. My third bear encounter of the bad kind occured later that day when one walked out onto the road 20 feet in front of me and stopped in the shoulder to watch me barrel towards it. a quick shout scared that one away. On my way passed the campsite I met Joe and Jack, who where also in the process of cycling Canada, and I joined them for breakfast, second breakfast, lunch, onesise, and several other meals in the spirit of eating as much as you can. I tagged along with them for the next few days, leaving Joe in Sault Ste Marie and Jack today just outside of Espanola.

While cycling with Jack and Joe we encountered the largest hill of the journey, th fabled Montreal river Hill, know to the truckers as "The Hill" whose story is told in frightening settings around late night campfires. Some people even dress up as it for Halloween. It's just that horrifying. For days we heard tales of it, consuming cyclists whole and spitting thier bike frames out, and people told us to watch out for this massif, as some dont make it up alive...Needless to say, we were frightened, and the thought of the behemoth haunted our riding. The only thing was, hills only go up in one direction...in this case, not ours, so we simply coasted down at break neck speeds. It really was an anti climax, as the hill from hell turned out to go down, not up. The day got better from there too. Joe had met a friend from his skiiing days who offered up his cabin, conviniently placed at the bottom of this hill. And the cabin was amazing! Right on the edge of Lake Superior and surrounded by blueberries, it had a bathtub outside on the deck so you could sip wine and watch the sun set, and the cabins interior was stunning, built of logs, and completly hand crafted, from the long table to the lights set it burls to the chairs carved of single peices of wood in the likeness of fish. It was truely a five star place, offered up to us to take advantage of to our hearts content, and that included the well stocked beer fridge. Needless to say, we stayed an extra day.

Well, to cut this long drolling update off, I'm running my internet bill pretty high right now and need to go find a place to camp, so I bid you all adeiu, and hope that you'll send me some emails some day, as I like hearing from people. Here's to keepin' the rubber side down.

Steve Fox

#6 Near the end of Ontario, in my nations Capital

So here I am, at last, a day's ride to the Ontario/Quebec border in Ottawa and only 1500 KM away from Halifax on the East Coast.

Shortly after writing my last update I ran into some more bike problems. That morning, as I rolled into a parking lot to do some grocery shopping, I popped a tire. That was OK, just a routine patch job, and I would have been on my way, but as I was pumping up the tire, the valve stem broke off...and I no longer had a spare tube handy. So, I was forced to walk to Canadian Tire, a few blocks away, only to find out that they didn't have the right size tubes. It took me quite a while to figure out that there were no tubes for my bike in Espanola. But then, out of the blue, came Kelly. He arranged for someone to pick up some tubes for me at a bike shop and had them delivered, while I chilled out at his flooring store all day. Huge thanks for saving me, Kelly.

After leaving Espanola I worked my way down Manitoulin Island and hopped on my 3rd ferry over to the Bruce Peninsula. I worked my way along a lot of back roads until I hit Niagara Falls, where there are more "gentlemen's clubs" than Tim Hortons coffee shops. I spent my first night camped behind one of these "clubs" after refusing to pay $59.00 for a camp site across the street, and fell asleep to the thump of techno music. The next day however, I upgraded to a Hostel so I could go out and see the town a little better. The falls really are amazing to see, especially at night, when they get lit up by spotlights.

From Niagara I biked to Lake Ontario and followed it through an endless urban sprawl for 3 days until I finally left Toronto. While in Toronto I checked out the CN Tower, which is the tallest free standing man made structure in the world, sitting at 553.33 meters tall. I also made a stop at the Friendly Stranger Hemp store to talk to them about their environmental policies and the actions that they have taken to help out nature. It is well worth stopping in to see them if you're ever passing through Toronto with nothing else to do.

A few days after leaving Toronto I found myself in Kingston, and on my way to the Blue Skies Music Festival in Claredon Station. As I was biking down the street in Kingston I was flagged down by Jenni, who was canvassing for UNICEF. She brought up the music festival and told me I should go, so I hitch hiked with her the next day. The hitch hiking was interesting, because we got picked up by Dan Ackroyd, as in the Blues Brothers, and a police officer. We made the festival eventually and the 2 days I spent out there were probably the highlight of the trip so far. The people there were amazing, the music was excellent, and the general vibe from everyone made me think that the world leaders should have been there to see how peace and harmony actually works. Talking to some of the "Blue Skies Veterans" who had been attending the Festival since its early days in the 70's said that they had never once heard of anyone getting in even so much as a petty argument. It was really an amazing time there.

So here I am, in Ottawa, at the end of Ontario. I've been staying the last few days with my good friend Jack, whom I cycled with for over a week in northern Ontario along with Joe. He told me when we parted ways in Espanola that I should stop in, and I made it just in time for a little R&R at his lake side cabin. Now that I am rested and full of food, I think I'm ready to tackle the rest of Canada, and hopefully find my way across the pond to Europe. One last thing, I finally have some pictures of my adventures up on my website, so feel free to check those out, and I promise there will be many more to come.

Peace Out

Steve Fox

#7 Out of Quebec and Into the Maritimes

Bonjour!Pour n'importe qui qui accorde dedans du Québec, pour lire ceci en français allez à http://babelfish.altavista.com/ l'obtenir traduit.

Greetings from Dalhousie, New Brunswick! I made it to the Maritimes, which really is exciting for me. Then again, every new area that I have ventured into has been exciting in its own way.

When I last updated you I was in the Capital city of Canada, Ottawa, staying with some friends. I left early the next morning (early, as in 5 AM) with the family and headed towards Quebec. I was a little nervous about Quebec. It would be my first time alone in a place that didn’t have English as its primary language, and my French was severely lacking. I had no idea of what to expect of Quebec, but I had heard stories on the news about the unpatriotic, separatist, anti-English people that lived there. I was a little nervous.

When I crossed the bridge at Hawksbury into Quebec I found that the people there were the exact opposite of what I had expected. They were very kind and generous, willing to open their homes, and the homes of their friends around Quebec, to me. I really enjoyed it there.

Anyways, almost as soon as I crossed the bridge I stopped to talk to an English speaking French Canadien to ask for some directions. He helped me on my way and no sooner had I left him, I ran into Yves, who was cycling from his cabin in Ontario back into St Therise where he lived. I cycled with him for a while before he offered to buy me lunch and offered me a place to stay in St Therise with him and his family. The next day Yves and his wife drove me around Old Montreal and took me for lunch before sending me off to Repentigny to stay in the back yard of one of their friends, leaving me with the address to another friend in Quebec City.

Just as I was leaving Repentigny the next morning I ran into Jean-Matheiu, Elaine and Dominique (2 sexy nurses and 1 crazy nurse according to Jean-Matheiu) who were biking from Montreal to Quebec City to visit some friends. I cycled with them for two days into Quebec City. The only problem when we got there was that I had left the address and the map to my contacts house on the table at breakfast that morning. With no place to go I followed them to their friends house to stay, where I was very welcomed.

The house there was very busy, with 10 kids living there and another one on the way. Their mom was really an amazing person. Even with all the kids, the perpetual state of party going on there and the constant need to give attention to everyone, she still managed to find time for me, for which I am very grateful. The second day I stayed there I went out with Jean-Matheiu, Charles, Elizabeth, and Florence to Old Quebec to see the sites, and met Jean-Matheiu’s family. The next day I left even after sustaining a very bad muscle cramp the night before that left me struggling to walk. I biked out of town with Charles, who is also an avid biker. We fought a difficult head wind all the way out, only putting on 48 KM that day.

The next day I fought another bad headwind but cycling with Blake, going from Kingston to Halifax for a vacation, made it easier. Having someone to talk to lets you ignore the wind for a while. After 2 days of nasty headwinds, the winds turned around and pushed me towards my first actual century, which is biker talk for 100 miles. The total distance that day was 162.64 KM, my biggest day yet. Another 2 days of biking and I found myself here, in Dalhousie at the house of Bob and June Harquail, whose daughter I met in Quebec City at a birthday party.

Quebec really exceeded my expectations, for not only friendliness, but for the scenery as well. The St. Lawrence River is stunning, especially around sunset or sunrise, and it is amazing how big it gets toward the end of the continent. It felt very cool to cycle along side the sea way as I had only ever seen it on maps in school textbooks. To be right there beside it, seeing the things I had read about was amazing.

I am now officially in the Maritimes, and the people here are some of the nicest I have yet to meet. Maritime hospitality is not just a story you hear from time to time. Anyone that I have talked to here has been very interested in what I am doing, and willing to help me out in whatever way they can. I’m looking forward to experiencing the rest of Canada. I am also hoping that my front tire holds out for another 500 KM, so that I can dip the same tire into to Atlantic Ocean as was dipped into the Pacific on the other side of the continent. It might make it, but it is very worn out, with over 8000 KM on it.

Well, that’s all for now. If anyone knows anything about ships going to Europe in the next few weeks, feel free to let me know, as I still have no idea what I’m going to be doing for that. If not, I will probably figure something out.

Peace

Steve

#8 Wow I love the Maritimes!

I am coming to you from Ingonish, Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, Canada. The Maritimes has been absolutly amazing. I would also like to apoligize in advance for any spelling errors I may make in this update. Its late and Im kinda tired, but really feel the need to write to you and keep you in the loop. Bear with me.

I left Dalhousie, NB, where my last update came from on an overcast day, which made for some excellent cycling. The sun isnt beating down on you and your warm from all the body heat you make. I made it the outskirts of Miramichi, NB by the end of the day. I saw nothing that day because of the inland route I took to dodge a peninsula.

One more day of cycling and I found myself loading my bike up into the back of a shuttle across the Confederation Bridge over to Prince Edward Island. While in Charlottetown, I took my bike into the shop where I was warned about an impending break down of my drive train, which includes the chain and rear cassette. I decided to wait to change it until Halifax and hoped for the best out of it. I stayed 2 nights on this smallest of provinces, my second night with a contact I got from some freinds I made in Alberta. They put me up for a day before I headed to thw Wood Islands Ferry, which took me to Pictou, Nova Scotia.

I biked for 2 virtually uneventful days until I got to Stewiacke, NS. While biking on the highway I saw a bright flourescent orange sign that said "Bluegrass" on it. I followed it deep into the wilderness, down secondary highways, back roads and finally a winding road that took me to a field packed with RV's. I decided to stay the weekend at the Music Fest, and spent my time relaxing and talking to a lot of people and listening to music. Thanks to everyone there for all the food you gave me. Meeting everyone there was probably the best part of it. I wasn't such a big fan of the amount of RV's though. Think of the fossil fuels. It was still an entertaining weekend, regardless.

I made it to Halifax and found a place to stay on www.warmshowers.org. I stayed there for 3 days and put my bike in the shop for a new drive train. It was the first time we were apart in 4 months. The day spent walking around town was tough too, and made me realize how much I need her. Just kidding....kinda. I checked out the harbor as well, and tried to find a ship to Europe, but with no luck. I did meet some very cool people there involved in the underground scene of Halifax. A lot of cool people there, including some people who will find a bike for you if you're in Halifac and in need of a bike to get around on. They have a bike shop in thier basement, fixing old bikes. I also met Steve who was a fiddler busking at the water front. Halifax was a good city, although there are some big hills there.

From Halifax I headed out, along the Eastern Shore before hopping of the middle into Antigonish. My first day out I spent most of the day on an old rail trail, which cut through a salt marsh and got me off the highways. My last day on the mainland I came up with an idea. The idea is that while biking across Canada I have noticed that the words "Tim Hortons" show up a lot in the ditches of all the roads I have been on. I decided to pick up all the cups that I saw for about 10 KM and in those 10 KM's I found over 100 cups. I have some pictures of it. Its kinda gross. My plan is to get Tim Hortons involved in cleaning up its garbage in the ditches of Canada, as a way to help out the Environment. Any feedback on this would be great as well, ideas and comments, or if you would like to help me out on this one. I made it Cape Breton island that night and stayed with a contact I made at the last bluegrass festival at the head of the Ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee) Trail.

Cape Breton Island Has so Far been amazing. I was urged by many people to come here and I am glad that I did, even though the hills here are really big, some of the biggest of the trip. Even so, it is so beautiful out here. And all the hills that go up, have to come down, making for some amazing descents, and a speed record for me of 70.4 KM/H. Cape Breton HIghlands National Park which is bordered by the amazing Cabot Trail is one of the scenic highlights of the trip so far. The Highlands are formed from a high plateau with deep valleys and steep cliffs that crash vertically into the ocean. The views are stunning, and while in Ingonish, I went on a whale tour on the Keltic Express. We was some dolphins and Minky Whales. As of today, I have just finished the hard part of the trail, and on the home stretch to North Sydney and the ferry to Newfoundland, where I will be in 2 days or so.

My plans for Newfoundland are to go up to Port Aux Basques on the west coast, and up the Coast to Gros Morne National Park for a few days of relaxing hiking and amazing veiws. From there I will go to Springdale in the north to visit some friends, then the last stretch to St Johns and the end (hopefully) of Canada. From there I will be hopping on a boat, I think, and going somewhere else in the world, whereever is convinient to go at the time. I'll just have to wait and see.

A final word, I would like to pay my respects to Steve Irwin, whos story you have probably heard already. my hat is off to him and he will be sorely missed. Anyone who knows of the Squirrel Hunter from back home will understand this deeply. Also to Terry Fox, as the Terry Fox run was just a day ago. Thanks for tuning in.

Peace, Steve

#9 Canada under my belt, the end of the beginning

I made it!

2 days ago I pulled into St Johns, Newfoundland, athough under some nasty circumstances. Getting here means that I have officially cycled across Canada.

So the last time I left you I was at Ingonish, on Cape Breton Island in Nova Scotia. A days ride and 2 mountains later put me in North Sydney where I around until 1130 that night to get on the ferry to Port aux Basque, Newfoundland (NFLD). Newfoundland is accessable only by ferry, of which there are 4 on the island. This makes it somewhat more isolated.

The ferry ride took all night. In the morning I rolled off the ferry to be greeted by some heavy winds and driving rain. Determined to push on, I put my head down and pedalled away. Just before leaving the Ferry terminal however, several people made strange remarks about a place called "Wreakhouse". I gathered something about "bad winds" and "blows over trucks", but didn't think much of it. Then a few kilometers down the road and man in a pickup frantically swerved toward me and rolled down his window. "Be careful, you're almost to Wreakhouse. You should get on the other side of the road so you don't get blown into traffic." Then he sped away. It made me a little nervous, so I dodged to the other side of the road. 500 meters later I found out what Wreakhouse was. As I came out of the relative shelter from behind a mountain, I felt the pedalling getting easier, which was nice as I was going up hill. The tailwind got stronger until I could stop pedalling and maintain 30 KM/H up the hill. That was exciting, not having to pedal, at that rate I would cruise through Newfoundland. Then the road turned to the right and I was knocked over as 100KM/H winds pummelled me from the side. This wasn't even a windy day on Wreakhouse, but by the end of the day I was wreaked, having fought that cross wind the whole day. Wreakhouse winds are formed by a funnel effect in the mountains, making them much stronger there than anywhere else around it.

Another 3 days of pedalling I ended up in Gros Morne National Park, and found my friend Ira Sutherland, whom I have met with on Vancouver Island and in Winnipeg. The next day we donned our hiking equipment, in my case sandals, and headed towards the highest peak in the park, and the mountain from which the park gets its name. It was a 6 hour hike round trip with an elevation gain of about 806 meters. The veiw from the top was absolutely amazing. Gros Morne is a park and UNESCO World Heritage site because of it's unique geography. Thousands of years ago it sat squished under tonnes of glacial ice, and as the ice melted, it carved sharp cliffs and deep valleys into the rock. These valleys have since become almost completely cut off from the ocean, creating fjords. The dramatic cliffs, along with the changing colors of the leaves and the dark, deep waters beneath us made for some spectacular veiws. Ira and I made our descent and went for supper with an Australian couple we met on the mountain. They must have felt sorry for us for all the "toils" we go through and offered to buy us dinner. It was very good dinner, to say the least.

That night I left Ira in Rocky Harbor to go party with a large group of universtiy students from Corner Brook. Ira, to my knowledge went to the other side of the Bonne Bay to do a few more hikes, while I decided to carry on north, up the Northern Penninsula. On my way north, I passed by and attempted to hike to the top of Western Brook Pond, which is the poster child for Gros Morne park. even from the road you can see the sheer cliffs that plummet into the cold blue water and the high plateau at the top. It is definatly one of the most beautiful things I have seen. I would have liked to have made it to the top, but the fact that I dont have proper shoes, just sandals now, made it difficult to traverse the knee deep mud in som places.

I carried on north for another day, passing some interesting sights, until during a miserably rainy day, I popped both my tires, and while trying to fix them, wreaked both tubes because of little tiny peices of sand that stuck to wet rubber. I was forced to abandon my bike at Hawkes Bay and put my thumb out, in a bid to get to L'Anse aux Meadows, which means Jellyfish Cove in french. This is the sight of the first European settlement in North America, by the Vikings. The original sight was nothing spectacular to see, but the stories told by the interpreters, the sheer history of the place, and reconstructed Viking huts made for a very interesting and educational experience. I spent a lot of time talking to the Cheif Bjorn the Beautiful and Svein the Frenchman inside the huts. They even dubbed me with a Viking name: Thorvald Barelegs. While up there I also got the opportunity to sample some seal meat, which was really quite good. Pam Anderson would be ashamed...

Another day of hitchhiking got me back to Rocky Harbor and 2 uneventful days put me in Springdale for a few days of R & R with some people I met while working in Hinton. They fed me all sorts of Newfoundland foods and left me full and contented.

By now it had begun to get very cold at night. almost all of the leaves had changed colors and were falling to the ground, the days were getting shorter and I was getting anxious to make it St Johns. I hit one very cold rainy day in which I made very little distance, moving quickly from one warm spot to the next. I covered 30 KM that day. The next night I almost got in some trouble for camping in what I thought to be a safe spot to camp. Several managers and security staff approached me just as I was about to crawl into bed, long after the sun had gone down and the cold set in. Apparently what I thought to be a nice grassy patch on top of a hill in the middle of Clarenville turned out to be on several peoples property. I managed to sweet talk my way out of moving though, as relived their apprehensions about me camping quickly. It's amazing how far smiling and keeping your cool can get you. It was an honest mistake on my part though. Oops. The next night I had the chance to go check out some junior hockey games with some people I met and stayed with. Considering I was just going to get some water, It was a pretty entertaining night.

I left the Murphy's house the next morning and started pedalling hard. St Johns was 90 KM away. an easy days ride, but I wanted to be there before dark, so I pushed it. As I rode and thought about the prospect of rolling into St Johns, I was overcome by goose bumps. I had amost crossed Canada. This is the biggest country in the world, and I just cycled across it, coast to coast, under my own steam. This thought got my blood pumping and I couldn't help but get excited. I pedalled harder, trying to make it there quickly, and use every last calorie I could, I wanted to feel the toils of several months of pedalling when I reached Cape Spear, the farthest point East in North America. I hit some giant hills, but none of it mattered as I rolled right through St Johns, pausing only to ask some quick directions to the Cape. The day had been perfcect, overcast, but not raining, warm enough to wear light clothes but cool enough to keep me from sweating too excesively. The wind calmly pushed me along, over steep hills. Everthing was great. Then I came over the second last hill before the edge of the world. Cape Spear opened up to me. I could see it laid out in front of me, I knew where to go. The road went down to sea level once more before winding to the top of the last hill on the road, and on top of it, a lighthouse and some other isolated buildings. The adrenalin exploded, my blood pumped fast and my hair stood on end. I raced down the final descent pedalling hard, but as I reached the bottom of the hill, no more than a kilometer away from my goal, I wiped out. I wiped out hard. I was powering along, attempting to beat my speed record, moving at about 66 KM/H when my front bag rattled loose and popped off my front rack. It was still half tied on however and pulled my handlebars to the side. My bike rolled over several times and I tumbled into the ditch, landing in a patch of grass, narrowly missing a massive, sharp granite boulder and a small stand of broken off, spear like sticks. Not 2 seconds after ladning I stood up and felt myself all over, to see if I had broken anything. i was bleeding pretty badly from my right calf, but it was only road rash with sharp peices of crushed gravel still stuck in it. my right elbow had taken a beating and one of the spear like sticks had gotten me in the back. Everything was OK though, and I hobbled across the road to get some help. I was driven to the hospital and given a rough cleaning and a clean bill of health. I was really quite lucky, because as safe as I usually play it, I wasn't wearing my helmet, which was a little bit of a stupid move, considering the speeds I was trying for. Lessons learned though...maybe.

So, here I am in St Johns now, staying with some people whose address I was given in Halifax. Today I knocked to of my options off as things that I wasnt to do. Firstly, there are no boats in Canada it would seem that want to take a biker across the atlantic unless I am willing to pay a large sum of money, which, being a traveller on the cheap, I am not. I also had the idea of going to work at Marble Mountain, a ski resort in Corner Brook, NFLD, but was turned down for my application. So I am left with a few options. I could continue my search for a ship, which seems to be becoming a wild goose chase; I could get back on my bike and head south, which in these cold times, seems to be a promising option, or I could break my no fly rule and hop on a plane for about 1000$ CAD to London, which at this point is a last resort option that I would prefer not to take. Tomorow I plan on making the final 8 KM assault on Cape Spear, thus finishing Canada off, once and for all. I will be heading out there around 5 AM, hoping to catch the sun as it rises in the east, so I will think these options over carefully before deciding. I will keep you all posted on what my "plan" is.

SOME STATS FROM MY CROSS CANADA JOURNEY
Total Kilometers: 10830.65
Total Spent: $ 4017.76 CAD
Days on the Road: 165
Kilometers hitchiked: About 1000, I wasn't keeping track.
Flat Tires: 11, one every 1000 KM
Top five Canadian Cities: Edmonton, Winnipeg, Kingston, Halifax, St. Johns
Top five Scenic Spots: Cape Breton Island, Niagra Falls, Gros Morne Nat'l Park, Rocky Mountains (so many nice places there its hard to pick one), Lake Superior. I would also include L'Anse aux Meadows there although it wasn't quite scenery.
Best Province: It's hard to pick one becausre they all had good and bad times, so I won't. But If i truely had to It would be Newfoundland or British Columbia.
Anyways, Thats all for now. I will keep you all posted on what happens next, because your guess is as good as mine. To the End of the Beginning.

Peace

Steve Fox

#10 Canada and Beyond...

The Next Step: After several days of relaxing, fixing things and biking around St Johns, I have decided what I am going to do.

My quest for a boat was anything but success, and my pants full of ants are anxious to move again. I also am not going to fly. My only real option is to go south, as I don't want to be stuck in the snow, of which they get a lot out here. Im going to go back across Newfoundland now ti catch the same ferry that I took to get to the Island, in Port Aux Basques, mostly because the other longer more expensive ferry is no longer running for the season. I will probably take several ferries through some of the small isolated fishing villages though, which will cut off a lot of the biking.

From there I will head south, through Nova Scotia and New Brunswick into the USA and down the East Coast. I will check out the differnet ports that I run across to see if there are any boats there willing to take me, but if I don't have any luck there I'll carry farther south until I hit the bottom, then turn around and go back north. This throws my entire "plan" off, but that is OK...who's planning anyways?

I also just got back from Cape spear this morning. I had hoped to watch the sun rise there before taking off, but it has been overcast and rainy for the last few days. It was still nice though, gave the feeling of beginning a new section of my travels. It was also worth noting that it reminded me of the first day of my trip leaving Hinton in May. The first peice of road was a steep hill, and as I wobbled out of my street I was pretty nrevous of the hill, having never really ridden the bike fully geared up. I touched the brakes a lot on that hill. Now, today coming back from Cape spear with no gear on my bike, I was nervous because my bike felt wobbly after being accustomed to the heavy laden touring bike. I was kinda nervous about the high speeds with no gear around me. It was also to the bottom of the hill that I wiped out on a few days ago.

So now, 170 days after starting my trip, I am off again, heading south. Here's to another eventful and entertaining couple of months. Peace

Steve

#11 St John's to Halifax

Here I am in Halifax Nova Scotia for the second time, staying with some people I met last time i stayed here.

I left St. John's late in the day, and only made it to Conception Bay South by nightfall to stay with Phil, a guy I met at Blatch (what they call the house I stayed at in st Johns). He owns a farm and grows his own food there, which is something I am interested in, so I ended up staying there for 2 days. I left there and biked a day into Chapel Arm where I stayed with the same people as the first time I went there. I also got the other broken part of my frame welded where it broke after my crash at Cape Spear.

From there I biked down the Burin Penninsula over barren plateaus to Bay l'Argent, where the first of many ferries took off. I left for Pool's Cove, but ended up for 2 nights in Rencontre East, partying with the locals of the small outport village. I made Pool's Cove and 50 KM of biking found me in Hermitage for another night. My second ferry ride took me to McCallum where I had to wait for 4 days to get onto my next ferry. My time wasn't wasted though, as I spent many days playing my drum and fixing things. i also did my first presentation to the school there, entertaining all 12 students for about 45 minutes.

The third ferry finally came and took me about 2 hours across the water to Francois, where I slept in a warehouse on the floor just beside the ferry so I could hear it start its engines for the 7 AM departure. two more hours took me to Burgeo, and presented me with a choice: I could wait 3 days for the connecting ferry, or I could bike 300 KM of wilderness to Port aux Basqes. i chose to bike and stocked up on food and water for a few days fo riding. The wilderness area I had to bike through was about 200 KM of emptiness, covered in thick moss and muskeg, and almost devoid of human activity, aside from the two small hunting villages I went through. The next night I made it to Stephenville, lured off the beaten track of the Trans Canada Highway by the prospect of Halloween parties. I didn't end up doing any kind of partying, but spent two days with Jim, who invited me into his home and filled me up with delicious food and great conversation for 2 days. It was great to talk about things with someone whom I completely agree with. he also had some excellent travel stories to share.

I left Stephenville with the prospect of a nice day, but no sooner had I gotten on the road, a storm broke out whipping white caps almost up to the highway and soaking me with ocean spray and rain from above. Within an hour I was foreced inside to dry everything I owned out. That done, I carried on to higher ground and some tree cover to hide in from the wind. Up on higher ground, I trudged through several hours of on and off slushy snow. Then just as my mood was plumetting with the temperature, along with that feeling that life sucks, a beacon of light appreared in the form of a hippy van. They didn't pick me up, but as the VW Westfalia sputtered past, someone stuck thier head out of the window and yelled some encouraging words ot me. I had hoped they would stop and pick me up, but they carried on, so I follwed them, filled with a new goal. I assumed they were travellers, cause who else drives a hippy van to a ferry port? I really wanted to meet them so I put my head down, yelled some curses at the weather and pedalled harder until I pulled into Port aux Baspes around 8 PM, long after the went down around 5 PM. As I was sitting in the ferry terminal I caught a glimpse of my beacon of hope, as 2 of the vans passengers walked into the building, and i caught them on the way out. As it turned out, there were 4 travellers in the van, 2 guys from Ireland and 2 girls from Australia, who had met will travelling. At this time, the winds had been blowing strongly for several days and the ferry was unable to get into port, so we were stuck there queing in line for 2 days. this gave us time to load my bike and gear into the van and smuggle me on board when we finally did leave. That night on the ferry was spent jamming with my drum.

Once I was back on the mainland I made my way south, ending up in Port Hastings for a night with a guy who owned a small bike shop in his garage. In the spirit of taking a different route, I took highway 344 along the eastern shore of Nova Scotia. I ended up in St Francis Harbor where I was invited into the home of Frank and Gail for 2 days. while there I read a book put out by a group called OTESHA (www.OTESHA.ca). They are an interesting group of youths trying to make a difference with various problems in our world. The next night I had a very difficult time of finding a place to stay, which was a first in Nova Scotia. i ended up sleeping in a shed that night and a garage the next. It really brought home the fact that I am not in Newfoundland anymore, where people feel no fear of strangers and where hospitality is truly at it's best. While biking back into Halifax, I also have begun biking at night, under the light of the full moon. It is a very different experience to see the road and the world in the dark. There is not a lot of traffic on the back roads I was on and I am pretty well lit with blinking lights and reflectors, so theres less danger of being hit by someone who is not inebriated.

So i've now been staying in Halifax for a week. This is one of the most amazing cities I have been to yet, full of excellent people and great times, which will probably have to wait till i put out a book. I've been hanging out with people from the local Backpackers hostel, even though I am not staying there, and have been seeing the sights and sounds of town. I'm having a great time here, but as usual, and almost right on que, the ants in my pants are getting anxious, although im surprised I still have ants from the size of the holes in my pants made of hemp that barely cover me at this point. That's what happens to pants after several thousand kilometers of pedalling. Now I will be on my way to New Brunswick to see Fredricton, which is so far the only provincial capital city I haven't seen yet. From there It's nothing but sunshine and bikinis, with some inevitable snow in between.

Well, that is all for now. Now, go get on your bike and go somewhere you havent been before, and do it just for fun, regardless of the weather right now (within reason).

Peace

Steve Fox