Day 55 Saturday 8-29-09 Lake Lauzon to Webbwood, ON

Day 55 Saturday 8-29-09
Lake Lauzon to Webbwood, ON
47 Miles
2572 total miles

The winds did not abate, the rain did not let up all day. After sitting in the campsite until around noon, waiting for the weather to break, which was in the forecast, I decided to get on the bike and start riding again. Very unseasonably cold weather, wind blowing out of the NE and driving rain into my face. Very challenging conditions, on top of which is the unrelenting traffic of the Transcanadian #17. The backblast from the wake of a couple of transports (that's what they call big trucks here in Canada) pushed me off the narrow paved shoulder onto the soft shoulder. Fortunately, I chose a straight line and slowed down enough to regain the highway pavement. When I reached Massey around 6 p.m., soaked like a drowned rat, I found both of the motels in town to be completely full due to the once-annual-last-weekend-in-August fair. Don't ask me what the people were doing at the fair in the downpour and cold-- enjoying themselves, I suppose. I got back onto the bike and sloshed my way towards the promise of a fabled motel in Webbwood, 16 km down the road. Upon reaching Webbwood, I found the last motel room in town, as the fair overflow had come their way as well. Mine was a special room, with a broken heater which I fixed( I stripped and reconnected the burnt wire with exposed hanging wire) and a standing lamp with bare bulb in the bathroom. Hey, I was grateful to have any (heated!) room at all and shelter from the storm to dry my things out. An added bonus: the lady at the motel let me use her dryer to speed up the process. I think by morning I had eliminated at least 5 pounds of water weight! I watched some Quebecois TV station, which I found practically incomprehensible, the accent is so strong. I guess I will need to get used to it and train my ear to the sounds. There was , however, a very good reportage of a legendary "horse-man", Jean-Baptiste Beland 1904-1996, who lived a charmed life and was a man who acted like a horse, pulled a carriage, neighed, whinnied, stamped his feet, ran everywhere, slept in stables, and made his living in carnivals and by transporting passengers in his "charette." He was something of a legend among his Quebec brethren and was genuinely accepted and included for who he was and what he did in society. I wish that we could find more places for people with differences in our society.