Sun, Jun 10 2007 - Bicycling the Rideau: Chaffeys-Westport-Perth Loop (75km) (View Original Event Details)
|  |
“Bicycling the Rideau: June 10, 2007 Bike Ride on the Chaffeys-Westport-Perth Loop”
Part I: Jim's Perspective
Tania and I loaded our two bikes onto my bike rack and left Toronto by about 9:10 a.m. on Sunday morning, a little later than planned. As we drove and talked, we listened to the new Feist CD, which seemed to capture the mood of the day perfectly. The traffic on the 401 was not too frenetic (we encountered only one crazy driver, who attempted to pass us on the right-hand side just as I was moving into the right lane to make room for him to pass), and we arrived at Chaffeys about 3 hours later.
To get there, you have to take Highway 10 (Perth Road) north of Division Street in Kingston, and then turn onto Opinicon Road, which is a long and winding road that leads to Chaffeys. (For someone learning how to steer an automobile, Opinicon Road offers a great opportunity for plenty of practice turning in both directions.) At the intersection of Indian Lake Road and Opinicon Road, we easily found the starting point for our ride. We parked on the side of the road next to an entry point to the Cataraqui Trail. It was a hot day, so we plastered ourselves with sun-block before starting our ride down the trail. We also took a few minutes to pump our tires up. Each of us was carrying a spare tire tube just in case. Luckily, the spare tubes would not be needed.
The Cataraqui Trail is a little rougher than some of the trails members of the TOC have frequented this year, but Tania and I were eager for the challenge posed by the Cataraqui Trail, and we made our way along it at a good clip. The scenery near the start of our journey was quite spectacular, as our photographs show. We had breathtaking views of sky-blue lakes set off against dense green forests. We also encountered interesting wetlands, swamps and/or marshes, which, though quite still and peaceful, seemed to be teaming with life. The trail was, at times, at the top of an embankment, so we took care not to come too close to the edge.
A little ways into our ride down the trail, Tania directed us to turn left onto what turned out to be a private road. This little detour added about 4 km on to the overall length of the ride. While finding our way back to the trail proper, Tania said that she had heard some rustling noises in the woods. This was the first of our many encounters with wild-life during the ride. We periodically encountered frogs and rabbits on the trail, but they were gone in an instant, and I was unable to obtain photographs of them. We also encountered some fairly large snakes—to me, one or two seemed to be three to four feet in length. Tania gave out a huge shriek of alarm at every snake sighting. Interestingly, the trail was frequently marked by turtle holes, and occasionally by turtle eggs and actual turtles. At one point, I thought I saw a porcupine scurrying across the trail ahead of us.
At about the 30 km mark of our journey, we left the Cataraqui trail and headed north along Highway 10, which had some traffic, but not too much. For about 20 km or so, the highway challenged us with hills of varying lengths and heights. Tania was simply amazing during this portion of the ride, which took a lot out of both of us. She took the lead, and I must say that I had a hard time keeping up with her. Given my additional weight, I seemed to go faster downhill, but Tania was better at the uphill grades. She was simply indefatigable.
At one point, we decided to take a small, 2 km side-loop, which led us to a lovely old church whose cornerstone had been laid in 1907. Near the church there was also an old mill with a rushing stream of water next to it. We managed to get some good photographs here before continuing on our way towards Westport.
Westport is a lovely little village to discover. After replenishing our water supply at a local gas station, Tania and I followed the advice of a local couple with whom Tania had talked. They directed us to the waterfront at the centre of the village. There we found a nice bench in the shade, a great place for having a late lunch. We thoroughly enjoyed our food, as we were both quite hungry. It was, after all, in or around 5 p.m. The food and liquids gave us new energy for the remainder of the loop back to Chaffeys. We wanted to end our time in Westport with some ice cream, but it was a Sunday, and the ice cream store had closed at 5 p.m., before we were ready. As a result we were forced to proceed without the added pleasure of ice cream. We headed past Newboro and Crosby. We passed by Highway 15. Finally, we found another entrance point to the Cataraqui Trail, an entrance point that would lead us back to our starting point, at Chaffeys. The final trail portion of our journey was about 15 km in length. It was starting to get a little dark, and so Tania and I felt the need to push forward towards Chaffeys.
Throughout the ride, I had been trying out my new bike computer, and it worked perfectly. The computer, in combination with the map that I had printed off from the internet, helped to reassure us that we were on schedule. At any given point along the way, the computer told us what temperature it was, how far we had traveled, how fast we were going, what our average speed was, etc. This was useful information to have. By the time we got back to Chaffeys, where the car was parked, we had ridden for 82.4 km! Our two small detours had added about 7.4 km to the ride. Our average speed was 18.4 km per hour. While one of Tania’s legs had started to cramp up with a couple of kilometers to go, we both made it back to the car safe and sound, and with a huge feeling of accomplishment. It had been a challenging ride. Because of the length of the ride, and the rolling hills, the ride should probably be classified as “difficult”, not merely “moderate to difficult.” Those who attempt the ride again at some point in the future should keep this in mind.
With the bikes once again loaded onto the bike rack, Tania and I slowly wound our way back along Opinicon Road toward Highway 10. At one point, Tania saw some deer feeding in a pasture to the left of Opinicon road. I brought the car to a stop and rolled down my window. Tania and I both looked at the gentle, peaceful deer and felt a moment of pure ecstasy as we watched them in the pasture. It almost seemed as if one might jump over the fence and come towards the car. I took a few photographs. What a beautiful way to end the bike trip.
After stopping briefly at Tim Horton’s for some food and refreshments, Tania and I drove back to Toronto. We had a wonderful conversation while the Feist CD played in the background. We confirmed, through our conversation, that the car rides to and from an event can be an equally satisfying part of TOC events. Within the cocoon of the car, on the journey from somewhere to somewhere else, there is an opportunity to share words and feelings—to transcend the formulaic conversations of our daily lives.
We arrived back in Toronto by about 11:45 p.m., I think. It had been a full and satisfying bike ride and event. Thanks, Tania, for sharing the day and the experience with me.
Part II: Tania’s Perspective
Jim’s write-up captured Sunday’s bike ride perfectly. I can’t hope to improve on it, but I can provide a different perspective on our wonderful day …
To start, Jim wrote some very flattering things about my fitness and stamina on those hills, and I thank him for that. I must confess, however, that I suspect my biking success was achieved through sheer bloodymindedness rather than any particular athletic skill!
The first hill was a welcome challenge following the flatness of the Cataraqui trail; I shifted gears and charged up the hill, reaching the top exhilarated and pleased to coast down the gentle downhill grade. Then the road curved and another hill appeared. After successfully cresting that one, however, any sense of accomplishment evaporated like a bead of sweat beneath the noonday sun: I could already see another hill ahead. And then another. And another. Each time a successive hill would reveal itself, my heart would sink a little and I’d mutter a curse under my breath, realizing there was simply no way around it: the hills had to be climbed. And so, sighing the sigh of the damned, I set my jaw with determination, checked my gears and kept pushing onward.
Partway through our journey to Westport, when we paused on a detour to visit an old clapboard church and snap some photographs, Jim asked if I’d notice how one of the houses we’d passed had a lovely arrangement of trees planted in the front garden. Trees? Houses? What?? All I had noticed was that cycling on County Road 10 had, with the precision of a surgeon, taught me exactly where my hip flexors are, and that each successive hill became a little harder to climb than the last.
Stopping in Westport was a much-welcomed break; in fact, I don’t think I’m overstating it when I say it was a blessed relief! The fact that we found a lovely lakeside spot in which to eat our lunch was an unanticipated delight; I suspect both of us would have happily picnicked in a ditch by the side of the road if it meant we’d have a break from our bikes and those hills!
The hills were certainly the biggest challenge that day. Even with the additional kilometers we covered thanks to my creative interpretation of local roads, the distance of the ride itself was quite manageable, but the rolling landscape sapped our energy and tested our endurance.
The condition of the Cataraqui trail added to the difficulty of the ride, as it was more poorly maintained than the others we’ve done. There were loose stones and rocks, mud and sand, long grasses and overhanging obstacles: on different occasions, Jim and I each got brained by low-hanging tree branches. And when we stopped to photograph the low-lying sun glinting off the wetlands, my bike wobbled into a rut by the side of the trail and I was almost pitched into the swamp. Jim responded by laughing and taking a photo of me. No doubt it was Karma that arranged for the next big snake we encountered to be on HIS side of the trail.
Yes, there were snakes. And yes, I did indeed shriek whenever I saw one. I didn’t mean to; the shrieks ripped from my throat on their own, usually in the middle of something I was saying ( “So that was when I decided to – AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! SNAKE!! SNAKE!! – What was I saying? Oh yes, so then I decided to …”). I had to remind myself that we were really the scary ones: we were intruding on their landscape. Just like the egret and turtles and rabbits and frogs and deer (oh, those deer!) we encountered, the snakes belonged there, while we were merely passing through.
Despite the hills and snakes and swamps, and despite the distinct lack of ice-cream, we had a truly amazing day. My thanks to Jim for organizing the event, and for being such an agreeable companion along the way.
Have some photos from this event that you'd like to share in our photo album? Please forward them to Erik Sonstenes at photos@torontooutdoorclub.com. Please note that we prefer to receive the photos in approximately 640x480 or 750x500 pixels - do NOT send original high-res photos. If you have a LOT of photos, please submit up to twenty of your favorites (only) for a day event, or up to forty of your favourites for a multi-day event. Thank you.