Exotic Eastern Canada-Northern Latitudes 2010. Trans-Taiga, Trans- Labrador & beyond.

[jdrocks]

Originally Posted by Throttlemeister

...the famous KLR rider...

didn't meet anyone riding a KLR.

[Throttlemeister]

Originally Posted by jdrocks

didn't meet anyone riding a KLR.

Too bad, she is/was kinda famous in TransLab RR for a time.

[RRVT]

Originally Posted by Throttlemeister

Are you talking about Money Penny, the famous KLR rider from Eastern Labrador:
She's the hottie who rides

At the P&K store her mom owns.

Keep up the good work JD, it takes some quality time

Yes, I am talking about Cindy. Very sweet girl and just stunningly gorgeous. Still can't believe I forgot to ask her to pose for a pic. But I did ask her to join us for the ride to Red Harbor when she mentioned that one day should would like to do Translab on her KLR. She said she couldn't leave her father alone on his birthday.

[jdrocks]

Originally Posted by RRVT

I am talking about Cindy.

Cindy...hmmm, maybe i did meet her. how would i know? anything particularly distinctive?...i mean, besides the KLR.

stay tuned.

[markbvt]

Originally Posted by jdrocks

Cindy...hmmm, maybe i did meet her. how would i know? anything particularly distinctive?...i mean, besides the KLR.

She was the really beautiful girl working the cash register at the gas station in PHS. That alone made her distinctive.

--mark

[jdrocks]

Originally Posted by markbvt

She was the really beautiful girl working the cash register at the gas station in PHS. That alone made her distinctive.

--mark

I haven't made it to Cartwright yet, I'll let ya know ...

[RRVT]

Originally Posted by jdrocks

Cindy...hmmm, maybe i did meet her. how would i know? anything particularly distinctive?...i mean, besides the KLR.

stay tuned.

Let's see - gorgeous face, she is as sweet as they get, good sense of humor, nice legs, rides motorcycles, studies molecular biology at a college, helps her family at the store during her summer break. So no, nothing distinctive about that girl.

[jdrocks]

Originally Posted by RRVT

Let's see - gorgeous face, she is as sweet as they get, good sense of humor, nice legs, rides motorcycles, studies molecular biology at a college, helps her family at the store during her summer break. So no, nothing distinctive about that girl.

i couldn't have seen that girl, i haven't even been into Cartwright yet. if i see her, i'll let ya know.

[jdrocks]

Day 11: ate year="2010" day="31" month="8">Tuesday 8/31/10ate>-Churchill Falls, Lab, to Cartwright, Lab, 424 miles

Rain on the tent fly woke me at 4am, a good shower but short, and when I heard someone moving around near the tent at 6, I got up. Two guys from upstate New York traveling by pickup were also camped, and when I stop to say hello I get handed a cup of coffee, a gracious gesture. Different modes of transport, but brothers of the tarmac none the less. They had come up through LabradorCity, camping along the way, and sightseeing while enjoying the ride. The guy doing most of the driving said the deep gravel surface wasn’t all that easy on four wheels either, interesting. They were headed to HappyValley, maybe I’d see them there when I stopped for fuel.

The weather had cleared, and I got a better look at the scene of my wreck the night before. I picked what had to be one of the largest civilian buildings in Labrador for my stunt, I bet they roll out the red carpet for me the next time I show up in the neighborhood. A local pickup rolls by on the street, and the passenger is pointing my direction, as in “There’s that goofball I heard about”. I might have made the front page of the local newspaper, but I don’t think there is one.



The bike had been fueled the night before, so I was back on the road for a run east to the metropolis of Happy Valley/Goose Bay. The gravel starts almost immediately past the substation, and I find the usual varied conditions, but decent speed. Road construction through several areas, and the roads becomes tough through some very coarse aggregate. The road is very dusty, with truck traffic in both directions.

Looking in the distance down the road, I see some animals walking back and forth across the road, and from the size alone, they can only be wolves. I’ve seen plenty of wolves in my northern travels and they did not hang around on the road, but these were just about tame and must be getting fed from passing traffic. As I ride up, two wolves are sunning themselves on the right and four are standing on the left, and all move very reluctantly. I was thinking of stopping for a photo, but when I ride up to the location, a juvenile wolf is still caught on the right side and looking unhappy that I’m between him and the rest of the pack. He might be a juvey, but those teeth were adult size, screw that, better not stop.

Once again, there are small river and stream crossings along this road, I might have stopped for a photo of each.





The shoulders of the road are graded with such a slope that it’s tough to stop at random locations and get your right foot down while being far enough over to be out of the travel lane. The bridges and culverts have guard rails and the road is level, so those are an easy stop.

The sun has returned, man this weather is ever changing, and I’m still making good progress towards HappyValley, little traffic for a short time.



I can tell I’m getting closer when I see more cottages along the road, some on small lakes and some not. The road is roughly graded stone again for some reason, but then I see pavement in the distance and it’s 12 miles of new smooth surface, not even striped yet.

I pass the turnoff to Cartwright, not sure when I’ll ride this new section, maybe today, but I’m undecided. I stop at the first fuel opportunity, fill the tank and go in to pay. The cashier was a pleasant young woman with one of those piercings stuck in her nose, and she was trying to answer my questions about the new section of road, but didn’t know much. The gasboy was semi comatose in the adjacent chair, a young kid gone to fat, no help there. If there was only one road in and out of your community, it seems reasonable to think a local might know something about it, guess again. That pair must not get around much.

At the pump island I get in a conversation with the guy on the other side, and for half an hour we had the island blocked in both directions, sorry about that. He’s a construction man, and his complaint is that on any of the bigger work, most of the general contractors and subcontractors tend to bring in there own crews leaving little work for locals. That’s a common complaint on the other side of the border too. He was thinking about going west like so many of the others from the area, good luck my friend, and we part with a handshake.

I rode up to GooseBay and looked around a little, but decided to make the Cartwright run after all. This wasn’t my kind of town and I wanted to see Cartwright anyway, lets go. When I look at my watch, holy crap, this is going to be tight getting there before dark. Back to the turnoff, and now I’m on the new section of the Trans Lab just completed this season, although there had been some traffic across it this past winter. I was curious what I would find since photos from a month ago still showed work in progress on the lower 30 miles.

The start of the gravel road in this new section is coarse aggregate marbles again but smooth, and usually a track beaten through it, so the pace is moderate. Even the guard rails look newly minted.



The first new bridge is over the Churchill River where it widens and flows into the west end of GooseBay.



The bridge is of the truss and steel grate deck variety, and the design must be right out of the handbook because these are found all across the northern roads. Beats the heck out of the wood plank bridges which can become as slippery as pig poop in wet weather.



More river crossings down the road, and I can’t resist a stop. I think I’ve stopped a hundred times. These rivers carry water through this country, like blood through your body, life itself, and I’m fascinated.


The subgrade of the road has been exposed and that means speed, lord knows I need some, the shadows are getting longer. I see some cut spruce on the side, the first firewood I’ve seen for some time. Not chunked and split yet, but it will be before the snows.



I pass a car blocked up on rocks, all four wheels gone. I don’t think those wheels were removed for safe keeping, and the scene has a distinct inner city look. I pass on the photo, who needs that memory?

(To be continued…)

[jdrocks]

Day 11: Continued

Time for a break, and I stop at a …river, obviously a weakness.



No traffic for miles, but the minute I stop a northbound pickup comes along and stops to check on me, the driver’s face full of concern. How do you describe this, or account for it at all? It must be some innate goodness that runs through these people, the true bedrock of the north.

As I jump back in the saddle, the left hand mirror falls off and bounces on my boot. An unpleasant development, it had broken in the exact location as the other side. These roads are tough to ride, and without mirrors, they’re close to suicide. The sun’s going down, I need to get to Cartwright, let’s test that theory, gotta move.

Try to ride 50 or 60mph on marbles with no mirrors, it’s an experience. Traffic is light, but the traffic that is out there and running your direction is making 80mph. Just looking over your shoulder occasionally to see if anything is coming up behind you is about the most dangerous thing you will do that day…maybe that week, or month.

The best tracks in the road are on the northbound side, and while I had been using the whole road, I was about to switch over to the left. Runnin’ 60, I hear a faint “tweet, tweet”. WTF is that noise?, I had my earplugs really jammed in there. I catch movement on my left, a fuckin’ truck bumper, then fender. It was like a ghost snuck up behind you at midnight and tapped you on the shoulder. I could have reached over and touched that truck, a maelstrom of dust rolling off the front tire. The muted “tweets” I heard were the truck’s airhorns. I’m off the gas, I couldn’t see the truck or the road, trying to hold a straight line so the trailer doesn’t hit me. Can’t touch the brakes in the marbles, I just have to ride it out, my mind was in a strange place well beyond fear.

Ok, I think I just proved that theory, it really is suicide, and I’m off on the right to rig up a mirror. I zip tie one of the broken mirrors to the inside of the left hand guard, the only solution that would work. I pass the same truck parked at a road crew camp, and later he passes me again, but this time I saw him coming.

It’s late when I get to the Cartwright turnoff, no vehicles on the road now, a familiar situation and not one I liked. The Cartwright road is less traveled than the Trans Lab, with plenty of loose gravel and berms. Hell, let’s ride it in the dark, and I start down this lonely road.



Labrador is sometimes called “The BigLand”, and I’m a believer, although the word “Big” is somehow inadequate. Avoiding any clichés, a poet might describe it better.



Forty five miles to go and the trouble I anticipated is right in front of me. The road is getting worse, and only 15 minutes of daylight. Shadows across the road make difficult riding, and it’s tough to pick out the hazards.



The sun goes down in flames, now it’s full dark. Freakin’ A, alone on this road, another little test coming up.



I feel better when I switch on the little Piaa fogs. I haven’t been using them much, but when you need light you’re glad they’re mounted. It’s so dark on this road I might as well be underground, it seems the light I’m making is the only illumination on earth. The lights don’t show much relief in the road surface and I can’t see well enough to get the shit scared out of me. Rock and roll, let’s get this bike to Cartwright. The temperature is falling fast when I see some signs and then some lights, I’ve arrived. Damn, what a day.

The motel is being remodeled and a little beat up, don’t care, I need food, beer, and a bed. Hot water would be nice. The girl bartender checked me in and gave me a key, no food, the kitchen was closed. On the other hand, the bar was open, and everyone knows that beer is food, same thing. I stash the drybag, jacket, and helmet, head for the bar, and walk in on “Bingo Night”. So now there were 75 women and only two men in the bar, the other male was the guy calling the bingo game through a scratchy mike. Jack the Ripper could have walked through the door and those women would have never even looked up from those bingo cards, serious stuff.

I was sampling all the different beers in the cooler and enjoying my potato chip dinner, man, I was starting to feel a lot better after that long ride. Even the bartender was playing bingo, and when she caught a number she would use that highlighter like she had a hammer in her hand, boom, boom.

Just then another guy comes in, takes a seat at the bar, and asks if I’ve been traveling on the Trans Lab. Yup. Now I’m being interviewed by a reporter for some Ontario newspaper who’s doing an article on the Trans Lab travel experience. Lucky he found me, after six beers, I’m Professor TLab, the ultimate freakin’ expert on the subject. He ran out of notebook space to write on, I was sorta rambling, and so he reached for his video camera, and now we’re doing a video interview. I drank another beer or two, warmed to the subject, and filled up the memory card on that camera. Then I filled up the spare memory card with even more pertinent information and he had to quit…besides the bar was closing. Whew, this Hollywood stuff is hard work.

Eventually I found my room and retired, I reckon I pretty much used up this day. If ya happen to see that interview, take notes, I might have said something important.

(To be continued…)

[Geek]

I'd love to see that interview.



p.s. I'd like to request one update per day completed before 9pm mountain time.
I've been reading them before bed and dreaming of gravel up to my eyebrows

[jdrocks]

Originally Posted by Geek

I've been reading them before bed and dreaming of gravel up to my eyebrows

i'd like to see that interview myself...then again...

i know about those dreams, except mine are daydreams.

"travelers never return" is a quote that comes to mind.

[sailer]

I just firgur i bump this back to front page,

I understand your old and want to make it easier to find after you wake up from your nap.

[jdrocks]

Originally Posted by sailer

I understand your old and want to make it easier to find after you wake up from your nap.

geez, how 'bout this...
Awakened from his nap by the faintest noise, indistinct but growing louder, seemingly a wild chant that sounded like “Aaaaaaaa…Deeeeeee…Veeeeeee”, the old man reached for the bottle, empty, no help there.

opps, that's a page from a different book.

i'll get it straight yet, more RR on the way.

[Geek]

I'm going to report this post... my bedtime story is 2 days over due!