It never gets old

Enjoying the fall colours, that is.

I’ve circled the sun more times than I care to count and every year I am still awed by the wonderful show Mother Nature puts on for us in the fall.

This year the colours have seemed especially vivid and, given a 13-degree, sunny day, there was nothing to do but take a ride to enjoy them before the inevitable autumn winds and rain turn this particular palette to drab gray.

With no destination in mind I simply followed my nose and explored an area I don’t know too well, west and north of Calabogie.

The little jog south to Ompah took me to a dead-end at Norcan Lake and the Mountain Chute hydro dam.

On that stretch I came upon a coyote, just standing on the edge of the road eating a sandwich. True. I expect some workers in the area must have tossed the remains of a lunch out the window and he found it. I watched him eat while I slowly tried to get my camera out, but before I could an oncoming car spooked him and off he went, sandwich and all, into the woods. You’ll have to settle for this image instead.

After that interesting little interlude I backtracked and swung west and then north to Griffith on  Centennial Lake Road. The roads in that area are narrow and twisty as they meander through and around dozens of lakes and swamps. And although they are rough in places it was a good opportunity to let the horses out and enjoy some spirited riding.  Fortunately I encountered very few other vehicles so it was a great run for 30 or 40 kilometers.

However, once I hit Hwy 41 that all changed. From there it was pretty much a straight shot into Renfrew and very busy. Few places to pass and lots of traffic demanded a more sedate pace. Which wasn’t entirely a bad thing as I had a chance to sightsee and enjoy the views as the highway skirted Mount St. Patrick and the highlands.

It was a great day, and I now have a nice little 215 km loop that I can do again, although next time I’ll skip the Mountain Chute dead-end.

California Road

It was a beautiful day today so I thought I’d take a run down California Road to see how much spring runoff damage there was.

There was still snow in places and the swamps and ditches were full of water. The road was muddy and wet but passable until I got five kilometres in, to find it had completely washed out.

This spot regularly floods in the spring, but usually just over the surface of the road. This year the spring runoff took the road out completely and even managed to shift the culvert (put in a few years ago to avoid this happening) about 30 feet downstream.

As I wasn’t about to start chopping trees to build a 30-foot bridge, that pretty much halted my forward progress.

Being a seldom-used back road, California seems to attract a number of people who view the world as their personal garbage pit. It gets particularly bad during hunting season when all sorts of interesting trash appears under the cover of darkness.

For example, this boat. A couple of kilometres from the nearest body of water larger than the puddle behind it, someone decided it would make a nice roadside attraction. Filled with rubbish, the registration numbers were all removed so finding the previous owner would be near impossible.

And this mattress, queen-size I believe, was left at one of places where hunters pitch their tents for a couple of weeks in November. Except for the mattress the site had been nicely policed and cleaned up, so perhaps it was some local left it over the winter and here I am blaming the hunters. Doesn’t change the fact though that some moron thought it was perfectly okay to toss this old mattress in the woods.

I just don’t get the mindset.

However in the making-lemonade-from-lemons tradition, I did find enough beer cans and bottles to pay for my gas.

Every spring the local community bands together and has a roads cleanup day. We make a bit of a celebration of it with a BBQ and prizes for the most outrageous trash discovered in the ditches. Mattresses are, unfortunately, pretty common, but I may enter the boat this year.

Roads less traveled

I’d been hearing about some good riding roads a couple of hours from home. Since I had a free day and had been wanting to take a long’ish ride for some time, I headed out yesterday morning under cloudy skies but with the promise of sunshine and hot temperatures as the day progressed.

After skirting a nasty storm (Where was THAT on the forecast?) over near Hopetown I hit the South Lavant Road. Running through Poland, Lavant, Ompah, and Plevna this road is made for motorcycles. While the road is rough in places there are lots of hills and curves to demand one’s undivided attention. And while there were few other vehicles on the road, those that I did encounter seemed to be piloted by locals with no place to go and absolutely all day to get there. Given the twistiness of the road it sometimes took a while before a pass could be (somewhat) safely made, but before long I would have nothing but empty highway in front of me again.

Dropping down the Ardoch Road from Plevna I encountered one of those heart-stopping moments every driver experiences once in a while. Cresting a blind hill at about 80 kph I came face-to-face with a Darwin candidate riding a 3-wheeled bicycle with 4 or 5 large dogs on leashes. Coming towards me. Taking up most of my lane. Fortunately there was no oncoming traffic so I was able to brake and swerve into the other lane while his dogs (I think they were Dobermans, but I’m no expert) decided they liked the looks of my shin bone and went nuts. I had just passed a couple of pickup trucks with 4X4s in the backs – good ol’ boys I expect – and can only hope they saw this fool before he and/or his dogs became “grilled” meat. Of course this all happened about 2 minutes after I had turned off my camera.

Swinging back up Highway 7 towards Perth (and a Tim Hortons – it was lunch time) I ran smack into the back-to-school/back-to-university parade. Kilometer after kilometer of bumper-to-bumper stop-and-go traffic comprised mainly of U-Hauls, loaded pickup trucks, and SUVs packed to the ceiling with boxes, blankets, pillows, and kids made the last leg into Perth a nightmare. And any not actually on the road were to be found in front of me in the line to order food at Tims. I guess future rocket scientists have to eat too.

Then it was back on the secondary roads in a roundabout routing home. 350 kilometers, 6 hours, some new (to me) roads, and I managed to not get rained on. A pretty good day.

No choice at all

I haven’t been doing much blogging lately as enjoying this summer weather has been my first priority. So when it comes down to sitting at the computer, or this…..



Well, there’s really no choice at all.

A short’ish ride and a mystery

After a summer that never really got established we’ve had a late season run of spectacular weather. But we also know it won’t continue indefinitely. So when the tasks I needed to do today (winter prep the tractor) were done I took a long way ‘round ride into Arnprior for a few maintenance items and a Timmy’s coffee. As you can see from the map it wasn’t the most direct route, but 140 km of country road on a sunny warm day is never a bad thing.

While I was out and about I came across this apparently abandoned house. I couldn’t get close as it was off the road a ways but it’s unfinished appearance got me thinking about shattered dreams. Why was it unfinished? Did someone die? Did a marriage break up? A bankruptcy? The possibilities are many and the speculation lends an aura of mystery to the building.

But when I got home I looked more closely at the photo. There are some signs of activity around the place with a truck out back and curtains in some windows. The weeds growing on the roof look like they might be intentional, as in a sod roof. The edge of the roof looks like it consists of weathered boards to hold back soil and the heavy log rafters are there to support the weight.  On closer inspection the walls seem to be plaster or perhaps concrete spread between vertical risers of some sort. Plus, the real giveaway, a truly abandoned building in these parts wouldn’t have a single window intact and graffiti would be scrawled on every flat surface.

So what do we have here, a derelict building or a back-to-the-earth type, environmentally conscious, nouveau construction technique, residence? (If the latter I’d love to know how they got a building permit.)

And another clue – Google’s satellite image (undated) of the area shows no building in that location.  But if it has a grass roof would it look any different from the surrounding fields?

Hmmmmm…..

Possibilities…

We are currently enjoying one of the nicest stretches of weather since last summer (and I’m referring to 2016 here). It’s been a week of temperatures in the high 20s with no rain. Perfect weather for riding.

And today was no exception.

Now that I have the little Kawasaki more or less sorted I’ve been casting about for my next project to keep me occupied over the winter and one of these for sale in the local Kijiji caught my eye, an ‘84 VT500 Interceptor.



I admired them back in the day so I thought, “better late than never”. The bike for sale didn’t look this clean in the ad but it was supposedly complete and running, came with a spare donor cycle, and was price negotiable. So I decided to go have a look and combine that with a nice ride on a hot, sunny, September day.

All was going well until Richmond where I ran smack into a parade that totally blocked my route. The oh-so-helpful police officer that was directing traffic gave me, another biker, and a lady in an SUV, instructions on how to get around the parade. Which put us in a working gravel pit. I guess he really didn’t know the town that well. After a few other false starts and u-turns on dead-end streets we all decided to just wait it out, which we did.

After 15 minutes or so I was back on the road and soon at my destination.

The owner was a young’ish lad who bought the bike with the intention of putting it on the road but became a bit overwhelmed with the amount of work it would take, to say nothing of the $$ required. He was right to be concerned. It doesn’t appear to need any major surgery but will require lots of TLC – certainly more than I’m willing to put in.  And with the engine and 4 carbs all shoe-horned into an impossibly small space in the frame, they are notoriously tough to work on. So I think I'm going to pass on this one but will keep looking for something simpler.

But then, while having a quick lunch at a nearby Tim Horton’s, one of these showed up.



It has been a long time since I last saw a Water Buffalo (Suzuki GT 750) and this one was pristine. 39 years old and it looked like it came straight off the showroom floor. Not a scratch on it. The owner claims he bought it like this a few years back and all he did was clean it up. It’s all original – paint, exhaust, etc., everything but the tires. He didn’t want to sell it; said it was his favourite to ride. Bummer.

After a pleasant parking lot chat it was back on the road again, taking a slightly longer route home. And four-and-a-half hours and 230 kilometres after heading out this morning I was having a refreshing swim in the lake to cap off a great day.

MosaïCanada

As part of the Canada 150 celebrations the National Capital Region engaged Mosaïcultures Internationales de Montréal to create an exhibit reflecting Canada’s history and diversity. The end result is a spectacular kilometer-long walk through some stunning horticultural sculpture.

We’d been meaning to visit and finally got around to it today. We were blown away by the artistry and attention to detail – all done in various types of plants, grasses, mosses, and so on to provide the texture and colour the artists desired. It is reported that 3 million plants of 80 different varieties were required to create this magical garden.

Aside from seeing the odd trimmed cedar in a front yard I’d never paid much attention to this art form. Supposedly all the rage in Victorian times it had fallen out of favour but is now making a modest comeback.

It is, understandably, extremely labour intensive and expensive (reported cost – $10 million to put on this particular exhibit of 100+ sculptures) so don’t expect to see this type of exhibit  too often. But if you ever get the chance to visit one, go for it, as these examples were truly beautiful.

Walls and roof of 'station' covered with mosses.

Canadian Pacific train crossing the Prairies. Life-sized and all plants.

Inukshuk and puffins.

Copy of a famous Orca sculpture by BC’s Bill Reid.

Inukshuk and polar bear.

Puffins.

Muskox.

Celebration of Canada’s links to China.

Voyageur.

Mother Earth. She’s probably 30’ high.

Not horticultural art but still amazing creations by a British artist (forget her name) who uses driftwood as her medium.

All in all a great way to spend the day. Best of all, it was free. (Worst of all was the $53 parking ticket I got because I misread the sign. The fact that there was actually a free space should have been my first clue. Sigh.)

La Machine

La Machine is a street theatre company from France known for it’s larger-than-life mythical mechanical creatures. (http://www.lamachine.fr/en/)

Never having heard of them before I was intrigued when I heard that they were making their North American debut here in Ottawa, and so we decided to head downtown today to see them in action.

Of course, so did a few hundred thousand other people (it seemed), resulting in quite a crush as folks tried to jockey for position to see these creatures up close and get that perfect photo. One of our small group suggested that going up into a parking garage might give us a better vantage point and so we did. Fortunately for us it turned out that the machines – Kumo and Long Ma - would eventually come right past us. Good call Max!

It was quite a spectacle, and a great way to enjoy one of the first really nice days we’ve had this year – on my birthday no less.

Syringa vulgaris

If the title hasn’t already sent you to Wikipedia, syringa vulgaris is the taxonomic name for the common lilac, which grows in abundance in these parts and throughout much of Europe and the US as well. It is also the state flower of New Hampshire.



And why am I writing about this? Well this is peak flowering season for lilacs here and the air is filled with their scent, making for very pleasant rides in the countryside.

This month (May) has seen record rainfalls in this area with accumulations more than 3 times the normal average. Combine all that rainy weather with a 2-week absence while we were swanning around Europe and you’re left with about 3 riding days all month.

However yesterday offered up a few hours of sunshine and dry air so I managed to jump on the bike (I really do need to come up with a proper name for her; “the bike” just doesn’t do it) for a quick ride into town to run a few errands. All along the route the lilacs were in full bloom and the smell as I would pass a house with dozens of bushes in the yard was truly divine. Mother Nature’s perfume as it were.

Just another excellent reason to ride rather than being cooped up in a cage with the air-conditioning on.

The day the rally came to town

We live next to a 10 kilometer stretch of dirt laughingly called California Road. Clearly it’s nowhere near California, nor is it anywhere near being what one would consider to be a road. It is sort of maintained during the summer months by fixing the washouts caused by the spring runoff and beaver dams. The township will sometimes run a grader along it, and every few years there might be a load or two of gravel dumped on it to fill the larger potholes and gullies. But that’s it. The sign says “Drive at your own risk” when it should more precisely say “Abandon hope all ye who enter here”.

All of which made it a perfect venue for one leg of this year’s Lanark Highlands Forest Rally. Sponsored by the Motorsport Club of Ottawa this is the 9th running of this particular rally, and the first year that California Road has been one of the sections. So, of course, we had to walk over and check it out.

We didn’t get there early enough to walk out to what should have been a couple of great vantage points, but that’s probably just as well as we would have been stuck there until they were finished with the section (about 4 hours). And since it was 0 degrees and windy with on and off blizzard conditions (Yes, this was today – May 7!) we would have frozen.

But a little cross-country hike through the woods did get us to a spot not too far from the start where we saw a bit of the action.

(click for video)

Slow rollin’

This is cool on so many levels, so why have I never heard of it before?

Started in Detroit 6 years ago, Slow Roll is a weekly group bike ride that tours different areas of the city every week. The concept has now spread to other major US centers and even internationally. The idea is simple – get a group of people together and go for a ride once a week. But what’s really interesting is that the rides have become somewhat mainstream, crossing all socio-economic and racial barriers, and the fact that suburbanites are now coming into the city to experience neighborhoods they would never otherwise venture into.

It’s also a venue to display your latest custom bicycle – worth the price of admission by itself I’d say as there are some pretty amazing builds out there.



This article in The Guardian is how I found out about Slow Ride. https://www.theguardian.com/cities/gallery/2016/nov/02/pimp-my-bike-detroit-custom-cycles-slow-ride-in-pictures?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Gmail

Something like this might even be enough to get me on people-powered two wheels once a week.

My world is yellow…

… and orange and red and brown. Every year millions of photos and thousands of hours of film are shot of the fall colours here in the northeast. It is a spectacle that Mother Nature puts on every year as the trees hunker down and prepare for their long winter’s nap. This year there was concern about the quality of the show because we were in a drought for a large part of the summer, but those worries were unfounded. In fact this year has been one of the most stunning in my recent memory.



The other day I took a quick trip into town to run a couple of errands and to warm the oil prior to the seasonal oil change. I also mounted the GoPro on the bike hoping to catch some video of the remaining leaves before the forecast autumn winds and rain dash the last of them to the ground.

Like a gorgeous sunset or a star-filled night sky images on screen don’t do it justice but here’s a short video (click on link) of some of the beauty that we enjoy for a couple of weeks each fall.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aoc68SvXD7M

I am alone

It is a beautiful fall day and I am alone. Sure, there are other vehicles on the road – lots of them – but mine is the only motorcycle I see. I feel sorry for those who have already put their bikes away for the winter. They don’t know what they’re missing, I think.

Trucks parked on the side of the rural roads with hunters patrolling the shoulders looking for evidence of game indicate deer season is upon us. Most carry rifles, some carry bows, but all are wearing blaze orange vests and caps over top of camouflage pants and jackets. I wonder, what is the point of wearing camo then? All look at me as if I’m nuts to be riding today. Some wave; most don’t.
No more bright reds and yellows in the forest. Now the trees are gray and barren, having sloughed off the last of their leaves during the wind storm a few days ago. It’s evident nature is hunkering down in preparation for winter.

Though it’s only 2 PM the bike and I cast a long shadow across the pavement. The sun, in a deep blue, cloudless sky, is already low on the southern horizon, providing light but little heat, a huge change from even a month ago. So it’s cool. The forecast was for 11 degrees, but it feels like it’s still in the single digits. No matter, I’m dressed for it and am reasonably comfortable. Besides, a cup of coffee at Tim Hortons will warm the blood in advance of the return trip home.

I don’t quite achieve a Zen state of riding – it’s not that kind of day – but for a couple of hours I am in my element. I think about the beauty of nature and how transient summer is at this latitude. I enjoy the sense of calm while riding a country road with no other vehicle in sight. I breath the crisp autumn air, with just a hint of decay as the fallen leaves begin their journey to ultimately become forest loam. I listen to, and feel, the sound of the big twin and remark, again, on how much better it runs in the cooler, dense, air. And I wonder if this is my last ride of the season.

There’s always someone to spoil the day

After a spectacular May we have had a pretty miserable June so far with lots of rain and very cool temperatures. So when this weekend was forecast to be sunny and hot (YES!!) the die was cast – Saturday was going to be a long ride day.

After a bit of a late start (10:30) I headed off for Calabogie and Highway 511 through Lanark to Perth where I stopped for lunch. Not surprisingly there were a lot of bikes on the road and I wasn’t lacking for comradeship at the Perth Tim Hortons while I ate.

I had planned on going north to Carleton Place and home from there, but a spur of the moment decision saw me heading west on Highway 7 towards Kaladar. I stopped there for gas and a chat with a couple of good ol’ boys heading to a tractor pull with 2 machines loaded on a flatbed, and then swung back north on Highway 41 towards Dacre and onwards to Renfrew.


Up to that point the riding had been great. There was quite a lot of traffic but it had been moving well so it wasn’t a bother. But when I hit Highway 41 it was like everyone had gone home. Kilometre after kilometre passed without seeing another vehicle in either direction. It was great riding!

At a tad over 100 kph I wasn’t exactly doing the limit (80 kph on that stretch) so I was watching the mirrors conscientiously in case some cop was looking to pick up a few extra points towards his quota. Nothing until, seemingly out of nowhere, 2 bikes were on my tail. The first passed on my left across a double line at a very high speed, and as I was waiting for his buddy to do likewise, said buddy passed me on the right hand side, in the 4 feet or so separating me from the gravel shoulder catching me completely by surprise.

Now I am usually pretty cool about ride whatever you like as long as it’s two wheels. And I have no issue with exceeding the speed limit under the right conditions. But these guys who crouch over the tank like they’re Valentino Rossi on a Grand Prix track are leaving me with a bad taste for sports bikes in general and, by extension, their riders. Unfair, I know, but if I, as a motorcycle rider, detest these morons who put others at risk with their childish and irresponsible road behaviour, just think what the average cager thinks, and worse, what they say to the politicians considering further restrictions on our sport.

And to the idiot with the IQ just slightly above the total number of cylinders between his legs who passed me, there’s a special award waiting just for you. It’s called the Darwin Award. Look it up.

A day at the auction

One thing I’ve learned since owning a tractor is that everything tractor related is hellish expensive. Actually it’s a bit like owning a Harley come to think of it.

At any rate I need want to get a scraper blade to keep our roadway graded and in decent condition. I could buy new but both cars need new tires, and there are a couple of bike related things I want to get, and … well you get the picture.



So I’ve been watching the local auctions, and when the local M&R Feeds hosted its annual consignment auction of farm equipment this past weekend, I had to pay a visit hoping to find a deal.





The selection of goods for sale wasn’t quite as varied, nor as unique, as last year (link) but there was a 7’ blade being offered up. Not as heavy duty as I was looking for, it had also seen some serious wear and tear, including at least one spot that had been welded back together. (Even the fresh coat of paint couldn’t hide that.) Not perfect by any means but if I could get it for the price I thought it was worth it just might do. After all it’s not like I’m contracting road work to the county; it’s just to grade my driveway a couple of times a year.







While waiting for that lot to come up I wandered the rest of the auction looking for anything else of interest. I found quite a bit, but collecting old tractors is a new hobby that I just don’t need.  And while some of the old, horse-drawn implements would have made great garden ornaments, I couldn’t compete with one guy who was paying top dollar for anything old and rusty, all to be shipped (apparently) to a museum down around Salt Lake City.

People watching is always interesting at these events. Being close to the city we get city folk coming out to see what’s going on. You can usually tell them by the fact they’re wearing sandals, shorts, and tee-shirts with Def Leppard World Tour emblazoned on the back,  and are carrying a Nalgene water bottle. The local farmers on the other hand are the ones wearing steel-toed boots, an open shirt or vest over a plain white or grey tee-shirt, are 2 months past due for a haircut, 3 days past their last shave, and probably have an extra large coffee dwarfed in a hand that’s the size of a catcher’s mitt. The museum buyer was somewhere in the middle.



I did briefly consider an old road grader (forgot to take a picture, but it looked like this one) instead of buying a scraper blade, but figured the spousal unit might consider that a bit of overkill. So even though it would be a neat machine to own I didn’t stick around to see how much it went for, which is probably just as well because if it went cheap I’d just be upset.



Anyone who has been to an auction will attest that it’s hard not to get caught up in the atmosphere, and I’m no different. I found myself bidding on a few items that would have been neat to own if I could get them for a song, but either the museum guy or one of the Def Leppard tee-shirt sporting city types quickly bid the prices up far beyond what they were worth to me, and in at least one case more than the same item could be purchased in one of the many local antique shops.  Oh well...

Finally, after hanging around for a couple of hours, it was time for the lot containing the scraper blade I had my eyes on. The auctioneer started at $500. No takers. $400. No takers. $300. $200. $100. Still no takers. This is encouraging I thought, and so I bid $50. My soon-to-become nemesis (turns out there were only 2 of us interested) went to $75. $100. $125. $150. Back and forth it went in $25 increments until I bid $350 and he countered with $375. Back to me: $400? I thought the blade was worth about $350, and certainly no more than $400. If I bid $400 would he have gone to $425? Maybe, but we’ll never know because I pulled out. That was the end of my day at the auction.

Though I came home empty handed it was still a fun day and I’ll be back again next year. Even if I don’t have something specific in mind I know I’ll find something of interest, and maybe even win a bidding war or two as I’m batting .000 so far and am due for a turnaround.