One of the pleasures of bike touring is moving slowly. If I were traveling by car, I’d dash up along the Bay of Fundy and then sit there waiting and waiting for the tide to change. More than likely, I’d look at some mud, get bored, and drive away.
For the past several days, I’ve been following the rural route along the Minas Basin, home of the world’s largest tides, and have seen the tides come in and out, and in and out and in again. The water in the inlets is a red clay soup and reminds me of Africa. It looks stunning against the blue sky and green fields. Due to the shape of the basin, it takes 9 hours to empty and only three hours to fill. The tides rush in with a sudden violence. It is stunning.
On the cycling side of things: the last week has been fraught with mechanical issues. I now have an old skool down-tube front shifter thanks to the ingenuity of the fellows at Pictou County Cycles in New Glasgow. My front STI shifter had snapped off and I spent several days from Cape Breton riding in my low gears. The wheel had lost a few more spokes, so now it is re-trued. My rear tire shredded along the dirty bead, so I am on to my spare. And this morning in Wolfsville, I picked up some new cleats to replace the broken (and well-worn) cleat in my right shoe. It better well get me to Maine!
Riding bliss along the Minas Basin