After breakfast in North Bay, I rode across the street to fuel up. I didn’t like the sound of my bike AT ALL! This was the first time hearing this new sound and I was pretty sure it had something to do with my chain. Great. Dan said I needed to keep an eye on it, so when I was stopped at the pump I had a look. The tension seemed pretty tight, but I also knew it would loosen up with every mile I put behind me.

This day was an absolute scorcher! I kept to the 17 and had Tanya’s addressed plugged in so I felt confident I would arrive in Deux-Montagnes (Two Mountains), Quebec by mid day. I worked in a lot of stops, but each time I set out again, I immediately felt thirsty. It was annoying because I didn’t ALSO want to have to make a lot of bathroom stops too!

I’d hoped to see my friend Darwyn whom I’d met on my motorcycle adventure in Peru last fall, but our scheduled didn’t align this day. On I went. Eventually I get to Ottawa. I knew I’d need to go through it as Ray had already given me the heads’ up back in Wawa. What I did not have the heads’ up about, was the fuckery it would take to get to the other side and past Ottawa!

After Petunia (remember, this is what I’ve named my phone rather than saying “Google Maps” eleventy nine thousand times) had me wandering around some very fancy neighbourhoods, riding in circles, and not getting anywhere, I finally stopped under a big tree to figure my shit out. I had to peel my jacket off because it was virtually glued to my very sweaty self. A 37 degree day is a hard one with all that gear! With the humidex, it was 42!!!

Just as I was shimmying out of my jacket, Chris texted from Deux-Montagnes. He and his sister Tanya are my destination this day and I felt like I was NEVER going to make it out of Ottawa. When he asked where I was, I replied, “lost in Ottawa”. He immediately called and wow was I grateful! He talked me off the ledge and assured me that my phone would get me through the fuckery of Ottawa. Off I go again.

I’m guessing it was because my brain was starting to melt, but once on the road again, I realized I’d forgotten to close my dang tank bag. If it hadn’t been flapping in the wind, and if I hadn’t been worried shit would start flying out, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Stopping was out of the question in the busy day-time traffic, and rolling up the top so I could secure with one hand was definitely out. So I folded it over and leaned on it. I figured I’d come to a red light soon enough. Yeah. Nope. Fawk! without any place to pull off, I’d have to wait. When I finally got it taken care of, I nearly lost my left side case by a maniac driver. Jeeze!

I managed to catch a glimpse of Parliament, but Petunia wouldn’t take me right past. I have to admit I wasn’t too broken up by that missed opportunity. I needed the highway again so I could cool down! The wet towel I’d wrapped around my neck was now steaming!

Back on the highway, it was certainly obvious when I crossed into Quebec! Holy rotten roads, Batman! When I wasn’t dodging cars, I was navigating potholes, uneven lanes, and the municipality’s crazy attempts at road repair. Seriously, friends! Did they just dump left over concrete on these spots and call it done? Yikes! All of this was worth it though. I was on my way to see people that mean the world to me.

About 8 years ago I met Bruce. He lived across the road from me and was one of the dearest friends I could ever have. I loved him very much. When I had something exciting to share, I told Bruce over coffee. When I was going through stuff, Bruce listened with kindness in his eyes. We shared meals together, laughter, and always much love. We adopted each other as family. When he passed last year, I got a chance to meet his kids Tanya and Chris. I adopted them as my family too. They are a big part of my reason for doing this epic adventure now and I noticed I was pulling harder on the throttle the closer I got to them. it had been almost a year since I’d seen them.

With the toxicity of my recent work gig, I was left doubting a lot of things in my life. As the miles slipped away in ribbons of broken road behind me, I found myself wondering if perhaps I was wrong about my relationship with Bruce’s kids too. Those doubts immediately dissipated when I arrived. I parked, got off my bike, and turned to see Chris with a big smile. Man he looks just like Bruce! We hugged hello and I knew I’d made the right choice to stop to visit. We walked towards the back yard and I saw a very shaky hand reach over the top of the gate to unlatch the door.

Tanya stepped through and we both burst into tears and shared an incredibly powerful and heartfelt hug. that embrace spoke volumes. It spoke of our mutual gratitude that the friendship forged in grief was solid, that the time between our last words meant little, and that we were sisters from another mister.

We spent the next seven days laughing until we cried and I can’t wait to see them both again upon my return.