Wet and Wild
by Scott Chisholm

The Tour Of The Nottawasga Bay 600 - or more appropriately, Not A Tour Of Nottawasaga Bay (the only time you see the Bay is for 30 seconds in Meaford) - was like every other ride we have done this year. It had all of the familiar elements we have had to battle so far, with a little added extra which was entirely new to me. All through the Beaver Valley section I was pelted by these strange flying insects. Never seen them before, but a friend has since told me she believes they might have been shad flies. What the hell are those, something arriving on a slow boat from China?. It was similar to riding through a hail storm. They were unbelieveable - they stuck to everything like baby sh_t to a woven blanket. It took forever today to clean their remains off the bike.

Cary, Rolf, and myself got away from Alliston shortly after 6:00 AM. Apparently the three riders south of our border elected to do a 600 down there somewhere, and one other registered rider was a no show. We stayed together until Orangeville, where Cary and Rolf decided to stop for breakfast.

From Orangeville, where it had obviously just rained, we took the all too familiar route out to St. Jacobs, and then north from there for a change. I soon recognized that we hooked up to a section of the Alliston- Drayton 300 that I rode a few weeks back. This is a fabulous section of Ontario from St. Jacobs to Owen Sound. Nice rolling landscape, you could carry your speed nicely just climbing out of the saddle every so often to get up over the hills. About 20K shy of Owen Sound, it started to rain. I stopped at the control in Owen Sound. After getting the usual fuel, I returned to the bike and the flood gates opened up. You could not see 100 meters - thunder, lightning, the whole deal. With these conditions being the norm now, I thought nothing of it and off I went. The rain continued until just before Meaford, which was the next control at roughly 325K. As it was now about 6:45 PM, I opted for a sit-down meal. There was a little pub in the centre of town. I think it was called "The Leaky Canoe" (how appropriate!). I had a great bowl of their soup of the day, a club sandwich, and my favourite PBP side dish a huge helping of mashed potatos. As I got up to leave I couldn't help but notice the rather large puddle of water under my bar stool.

This is where the fun on this route begins. You head south out of Meaford, climb up the west side of Blue Mountain, and then descend into the Beaver Valley. This is where I encountered the only route sheet error of the ride. This might have been intentional on Isabelle's behalf. At the T junction in Kimberly, the route sheet said "Turn left and go 1.6." So another 6.6K, turn left, got there - no road. Further study of the route sheet said "At the Kimberly T juction, turn left and go south west." I thought I can't be going south and west if the sun is setting on my left. I rolled up someone's driveway, disturbed their card game, made my inquiry, and sure enough I should have gone right. If climbing the valleys of Kimberly once isn't enough, then do it twice just for the fun of it all! (Thanks Isabelle, I hope I can return the favour one day... )

South out of Kimberly you pick uip CR4 and head west for 43K on a busy section of road. What a riot that was at about 10:00 PM! This takes you right into Hanover, the next control. I arrived just before midnight, changed into some dry clothes that felt wonderful, had a snack, and put my head down for about an hour and a half. I finally rolled out of Horton's at 2:20 AM.

The ride went well from there. It was a beautiful evening. I screwed something up in the little village of Clifford and picked up another extra 8K. About 20K outside of Drayton, which was the next control, the fog rolled in just before daybreak it was so heavy, visibility was at best about 100 meters and it was so dense it might as well have been raining. Wet clothes once again. I arrived at Drayton at about 5:45 AM, it was like there could have been a bomb scare. No sign of life anywhere, not even a barking dog. From here it was about a 25K ride to Elora. Fortunately the fog was beginning to burn off. I made my last fuel stop at the all too familiar town of Fergus and then humped it back to the last control in Orangeville.

I have never spent so much time on a bicycle saddle by myself before, nor have I ever had to rely on a route sheet so much. I am sure most of you know I keep the route sheet in my jersey and just ask "Where to next?" It was a different experience for me, and I could not believe how quickly the time passed while concentrating on where to go. I rolled into the Alliston IGA around 10:45 AM with a total distance of 626 kms. That little extra distance is good insurance right? We are all too familiar with that.

Thanks to Isabelle and Keith for their dedicated contribution to the club, and for providing the Simcoe-Muskoka chapter of the Ontario Randonneurs, which gives us almost unlimited options to do any ride any time. I am not sure that any other Randonneuring group has the flexiblity options that we do. Three chapters in one little province!

(In your prayers at night could you all make mention that a little more seasonal weather would be appreciated?)

Tour of the Highways
by Carey Chappelle

Well, Scott certainly had a different experience than Rolf and I. Luckily, the weather gods were shining on the clydesdales for the Tour of Nottawasaga Bay. Even if we had passed on breakfast, we couldn't have kept up to Scott, and only had the pleasure of riding with him until Orangeville.

It's true, the only time one sees Nottawasaga Bay is the pit stop in Meaford. Maybe this tour should be called "The Tour of Highways," as we encountered sections of traffic that would rival the Don Valley Parkway on a Friday afternoon. It seemed that our slow speed meant we followed the storm front, and never experienced the heavy rains that forced Scott into his rain gear. We had some drizzle and wet roads to contend with, but the sun usually shone through at some point and made the experience more enjoyable.

Rolf almost got to use his pepper spray on a dog that had more legs than we did and wanted some calf. The two of them tangled on both sides of the road as I remained quiet and in my lane enjoying the show. Rolf had the canister out and pointed at the dog's muzzle, but being a dog owner couldn't pull the trigger.

We stopped in Kimberly at a bed and breakfast for 5 hours of shut-eye, and got back on the road at 0430 AM, feeling quite refreshed. The climb out of Beaver Valley was better than a cup of coffee, and got the blood flowing again.

Head winds for 125K on the way home kept us humble but not discouraged, and provided some needed resistance training for the legs. Thanks to Isabelle and Keith for organizing the ride.