I started my day in the saddle just before 10pm again. I knew that today would be a shorter distance so I took it easy.
The landscape was stunning to the degree it was jaw dropping. I was following the Lake Front Trail and could not stop to stare at the beautiful beaches and the little houses with that amazing view on Lake Erie.
I even met about a hundred cyclists from Dunnville who were taking part in an organized cycling event like an RTF in Germany. First they were coming towards me going West with their expensive bikes, then they turned somewhere and overtook me going East, then they all had a break at a rest station when I drove by and finally some overtook me again.
I was cruising enjoying the views and could not help myself but chuckle how seriously some of them were competing against me where one of my paneers weigh as much as their entire bike.
Some also made some nice comments or asked an interested question. Since we were on the official Trans Canada Trail, many gathered from my setup that I was doing a Transcanada myself which generated some “ah” and “oh”.
As we approached Dunnville, one of the cyclist had a puncture and I asked if I could help. He was ok but I was amazed by the fact that a 60km tour was enough to pop a tire with these overbred bikes. I am riding my tires now for over 3,000km without any issues.
In Dunnville, I ate lunch at Tim Hortens. The restaurant was totally overstaffed and undermanaged which resulted in long queues and missing orders. I rarely saw so many people producing so little. But everyone remained friendly and nobody complained. This is Canada. People are friendly here.
If there is one thing that a long distance cyclist should not run out of it is Vaseline. However, after almost two weeks net in the saddle I had developed some sore spots in my “seating area”. So I stopped at a Pharmacy and stocked up.
By 5pm, I arrived in Crystal Beach at Ginette’s house.
She was an 82-year-old lady from Quebec and a Warmshowers host since 2017. In that year her husband had passed away and she was missing some excitement in her life. So one of her daughters who had been cycling in France, told her about the network and she signed up as a host.
I was her first German guest so far. We started chatting when I was still hauling Rosinante into her garage. She was very funny, witty, and well-spoken. We had an immediate connection.
Since it was still early and Ginette did not offer dinner, I wandered into town and came by a pub called “Crystal Chandelier”.
They were prepping for live music and I could see them serving ice cold beer on the patio. Without consulting my brain, my legs went right into the bar and I found an empty table. I had fish and chips and a beer. A little later the band started playing. It was heaven!
I didn’t not stay too long because I wanted to chat some more with Ginette who had offered to do my laundry in the meantime.
We talked for hours about politics, First Nations, Germany, traveling, Trump, family, her husband, sex, global warming and much more. We had a lot of fun. When it had become dark, Ginette made us two scotch as a night cap.
After that, I slept like a baby but had some wild dreams. I was a slave who had escaped and I needed to hide and move through the country in constant fear. It seems that the Underground Railroad has been bothering me more than I realized.