I decided that the most direct route was the best route and this meant negotiating Backwoods NS via highway 289 and 236. That's a savings of 36kms or about 3 litres of gas. To say the province has let highway 289 go a little is an understatement. What's worse, there's little to no signage and no signal for the i-phone. I did have a google map which was of the same value as the i-phone (sans signal). That said, we managed to stumble upon Windsor without any major hiccups and I am sure my decision to go back roads was vindicated.
We arrived at our B&B just in time to watch the second half and overtime of the England v France World Cup quarter final. England literally limped through overtime and made it to a penalty shoot-out. Could they be the first English team to ever win a penalty shoot out in any competition under any circumstances? No. No they couldn't. Despite being a shot up, the last two kickers fluffed it and justice was served. France was the better team.
| Seriously, get a roundabout. |
The game ended, the rain continued. I was going to bike the course, but first we had to find it and when we did, it was still raining so we drove the course. I noted a couple of significant hills and very little in the way of flat sections. This was going to be harder than I thought. All that training on the flats wasted. Ah well, same for everybody.
By 6pm it had stopped raining and we made our way to the Windsor Spitfire British pub. What a joy, Curry on chips/french fries (I asked for rice) and a pint of local brew. For my British readers, the curry was touted as a Birmingham curry, yet included broccoli and green peppers. Does that sound right?
We then strolled around the coast to get a lay of the land and to rue the fact that the tides were against us. It was high tide and all the birds had buggered off and were waiting for low-tide. We did see a blue heron fly overhead, but it was too quick and on a mission. Eventually we made our way back to the B&B where we watched Survivorman and Mantracker.
By the crack of dawn, Fran had left to seek out the wildlife, I had a good breakfast and headed off to the race. I went to check in, only to find out I should have brought my NB race numbers with me. It was a $5 error. Armed with number 166 I went off to prepare for the race. I was quietly confident as I watched my competitors unload their Time Trial bikes, squeeze into their Time Trial skinsuits and get on their trainers to warm-up. They had technology on their side, I had old school grit.
The Trial went well, I may have gone out a tad fast, but I didn't die until I crossed the line. The steepish 1km hill at 28kms was a real arse, as was the cross winds on the first and final 4kms, but other than that I was able to hammer home in 1:03.48 for an average of about 38kms/hr over 40.5ks (why is it so difficult to measure exactly 40kms?) I passed only 1 person and was only passed by one cyclist at the 37 km mark. It was a bit discouraging, but impressive, to see the speed with which he disappeared. I couldn't have gone any faster without two things. 1 - an improvement in technology. I need a suit, a TT bike, better TT wheels and shoe covers. That alone could take 2-3 minutes off my time. 2- I have to get younger. Incidently, I was 10th overall. The winning time 58.05. Two guys were under an hour which is, I think, fantastic on that course.
The good thing was that their were no draw prizes or food to hang around for and so I was out of there as soon as the results were up. I picked up Fran and we took the coastal route home which was quite nice, but a lethal mix of roads that intertwine without reason or rationale. Nova Scotia gets a 'D' grade for its road system and signage once off the main drag.
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