Tourist

Day 79. Edmonston to Grand Falls. 40 mi. 4925 MI ttd. 1200 ft elevation. Weather perfect

The blue dot is me. I’m in a very different part of the world. It’s so different that I didn’t even realize there’s another time zone. When I came into New Brunswick, I entered the fourth time zone of my trip: Atlantic time. Yes, I’m hanging out in the Atlantic Ocean for all intents and purposes. In fact, next week, I will be down and to the right of my present position on that sliver that almost looks like an island called Nova Scotia. In 4 weeks, I will be on that island even further to the east called Newfoundland and in my fifth time zone.

Last night, checking routes, Google Maps tried to send me down the east side of the US Canada border. Ride with GPS wanted me to go down the west side in Maine. I’m grateful that once again, I ignored Google Maps because the road in Maine had a wonderful shoulder, and it was fun to ride in another state.

This part of Maine, at least this time of year, is beautiful. I was hoping to see Mount Katahdin, which was mentioned by the AI describing interesting things to see on this route. Unfortunately, it was too far south. It is, of course, not only the highest peak in Maine but also the end of the Appalachian trail.

I was only in Maine for about 25 miles. Then I cut back across the border, which meant going across the St John River. I had been following Southward. The river is the border between Canada and the US. It seems funny to me that this ridiculously long border, that runs through a lot of empty land and, in many places, through water, can actually be guarded. I can’t imagine that it’s too difficult to just take a canoe across or, for that matter, swim. In any case, the border crossings were uneventful even when I confessed to having bear spray on entering Canada. When I told her it was purchased in Canada, she let me keep it.

The last few miles into the town of Grand Falls was on Rail Trail and part of the Great Trail, which crosses Canada. It was a beautiful ride, and then a train trestle, which has been turned into pedestrian and bike bridge, brought me into the town. I had only ridden 40 miles, so I was feeling guilty, and it was only about noon when I arrived. I decided to play tourist after a few more miles ride to get my bike washed at a local car wash.

Not surprisingly, Grand Falls is named for the falls that cut a beautiful gorge through this area. It’s apparently the narrowest section of the St John River. The pictures don’t do it justice, but it was quite beautiful.

Some of the views were free, but if you wanted to go down into the gorge, you could pay to climb down and then back up. Being full on tourist mode, I paid my $5 and walked the 280 steps down into the gorge. It actually was worth it because the view was beautiful from within more than from above.

I’m not sure how much I’m up for being a tourist again. In fact, I rerouted the next two days in a way that added some miles. Some of that choice was because when I came upon the Great Trail this morning, I noted that it headed down to Woodstock, and that sounded like an interesting route. Of course, it’s not the Woodstock of the 60’s. BTW the anniversary of that Woodstock is this week. I’ll let you know tomorrow if there’s any gray-haired hippies that got confused and ended up in Woodstock New brunswick.

In the meantime, please watch this Jim Gaffigan clip about French speaking in Canada: https://youtube.com/shorts/FZm8zX8hBRs?si=az6_cnm4VKJqFQD8