lighthousesbymotorcycle

[lighthousesbymotorcycle]

Newfoundland Road trip 2023

It was early August 2023; I had just barely made it out of Montreal on my flight as thunder and lighting storms surrounded the airport. I’ve never climbed that high, that fast in a plane, it felt more like a rocket ship. I arrived home in Nova Scotia late that night, but was able to get a good rest and sleep in. After a few loads of laundry, some packing, and a rear tire change on the Indian Challenger I was ready to hit the road. Cam rolled into the yard late afternoon on his Lowrider ST El Diablo. We tore out of there making tracks for North Sydney, Nova Scotia. It was around a 350KM ride. We had to take a backroad detour along the way to avoid a huge traffic delay that occurred regularly in Truro, Nova Scotia. After stopping for supper and then hitting some wet roads, we finally rolled into North Sydney just after dark. There, we were loaded onto a ferry that would take us across the gulf of St. Lawerence to the province of Newfoundland. The ferry set sail just before midnight and would dock on the rock just before 7AM. Being my 7th trip over to Newfoundland on my bike I didn’t find the ferry lounge chairs too bad, and with a little help I was able to sleep through the night.

We awoke just before the ferry reached the island to get some breakfast at the ferry cafeteria. A little fuel before a long day of riding. It would be just over 910KM to travel to our destination of St. John’s on the complete opposite side of the island. Some people say it’s a boring ride, but I’ve always enjoyed it. The landscape is constantly changing. From the Codroy Valley to the winding mountain roads around Corner Brook, through Terra Nova Park, and across the barrens as you cross the Avalon peninsula. The scenery is always changing, giving you something new to look at. You just have to stay alert and watch out for those damn moose.

The sun was shining, and the temperature was in the low 20’s. A perfect day for riding. We made good time, with 5 fuel stops, and a Mary Browns lunch break in Gander. We pulled into our Air BNB in downtown St. Johns around 7PM. The Air BNB was, well, it was interesting. I booked late this time so the spots I regularly stayed in were taken. For trips to Newfoundland its important to book early, or you get stuck with high prices or not so desirable accommodations. The location was right, and it was clean, but the place had that old musty grandma smell. Every room had floor to ceiling wallpaper, and I don’t think it had been renovated since the 60s or 70s.

The next day was calling for heavy rain, so once we got everything unpacked, we went to the grocery store to pick up some drinks and snacks. After that we decided to walk down to George Street for some late-night food, and of course a few drinks. George Street is one of my all-time favourite places to tie one on. You can’t beat the hospitality of Newfoundlanders. We got our food and did a little bar hopping until we wound up at my favourite spot: Christian’s Pub. A hole in the wall bar about the same size as a modern Canadian kitchen. It’s been my favourite spot for years, and its where I became an honorary Newfoundlander (kiss the Cod fish, do a shot of screech, and recite a rhyme). They even still have a cigarette vending machine on the back wall. Over the years I made good friends with the young guys who run the bar most nights, Robby, and Marshall. These guys are a great time, and we had a lot of fun there over the years. I wish I could go into more detail, I probably have enough to write a whole column on Christian’s pub alone. I’ll just leave you with “you had to be there.”. One thing is for sure, the drinks never stop flowing and the tunes are always on point. As Newfoundlanders say, “Best Kind”. You just never want to leave. When you do, you’re probably walking sideways like me and Cam were that night. We made it back to the BNB on foot and passed out around 3AM.

The next morning, we awoke with heavy heads, and to heavy rain showers. Luckily the two go hand in hand when you’re on a motorcycle road trip and you have time for a down day. So, we did just that, took the day off. We relaxed kicking back at the Air BNB. In the early afternoon we did end up dragging our asses into a cab and down to the Bagel Café (the best breakfast spot in town) for some brunch.

The morning of Day 4 we were well rested. The rain had stopped but it was still misting, and the road was wet. We suited up in our rain gear and hit the road for a day of riding. There were a couple loops around the Avalon peninsula that I had never ridden and wanted to check out in the next couple of days. Our first stop was of course a lighthouse, 1 of 5 we would visit on this trip. Lighthouses are one of the best destinations you can have when exploring by motorcycle in Atlantic Canada. The roads to get to them might be questionable in condition, but they provide some of the best twisty’s and coastal scenery. The best part is they are always at the end of the road, so you leave nothing unexplored.

The first lighthouse was Cape St. Francis just north of St. Johns in Biscayan Cove. The road turned to dirt a few Kilometers out. It got tighter and tighter until we came to a steep hill with washouts and large loose stone. Google maps told us we were about 800 meters away, so we parked our bikes and walked down. The road curved along a rocky hill to the lighthouse which was unique as it also served as a helicopter pad. We snapped a few pictures, enjoyed the scenery, then made the climb back up to our bikes. From there we headed to Portugal Cove, where we caught a quick 20-minute ferry over to Bell Island. My friend Gill who I had met just the year before in another part of Newfoundland now lived there through the summer with her boyfriend Curtis. Just off the ferry on the top of a hill she had a great view across the water. We enjoyed a few snacks and learned a lot about Bell Island. Basically, the whole island is undermined. Iron ore had been mined there extensively over the years. All shut down now, most of its residents (including Curtis) are cod fishermen.

We headed out and explored Grebes Nest, a cobbly beach in a very small, secluded cove with rock cliffs over 100 feet tall, accessible only by an old Iron ore mine tunnel. From there we went to check out the Bell Island lighthouse, and then enjoyed a big feed of local cod fish and chips at Dicks Fish and Chips.

After we said our goodbyes, we were waiting for the ferry to take us back to the main island when Cam noticed a problem with his kickstand, his bike seemed to be leaning over a lot more the usual. We did some wrenching and took it off right there on the wharf. Everything checked out, bolts were tight, and the bushings did not seem to be worn. Cam picked up a 2x4 there to jam under it while parked to help keep the bike level. Something he brought all the way back to Nova Scotia with him. We loaded our bikes back on to the decrepit old ferry, by this time the sky had cleared, and the sun was shining.

Back on the mainland, we followed the coastal road along Route 60, through Conception Bay, Holyrood, and Cupids Crossing. We finally hung a right and headed out on a sliver of land towards our third lighthouse of the day at Green Point. Now labelled a heritage lighthouse by the federal government it is well kept and has an amazing view. Time was ticking and we were getting close to riding in the dark, so we gathered up our thoughts and hit the road back to St. Johns, making it back just before dusk. I try my best to be off the road by dark when I’m traveling in Newfoundland. The moose are plentiful, and I’d rather not have one jump out in front of me.

Day 5 on our trip consisted of more exploring on the Avalon peninsula. After a quick stop at Rugged Rock Harley Davidson, we headed south down Route 10 along the Irish loop. Another beautiful ride where the road touched parts of the coast, and then cut straight through the barrens (lots of rock and no trees). We hung a right in Portugal Cove South and headed up this immaculately paved and vacant road to a place called the miniature fishermen, a display of miniature versions of all types of ships you can think of in a small cove. A local that lived nearby had put a lot of time into meticulously crafting these minis. We enjoyed the perfect road to its full potential on the ride back out, making a few passes at speed.

From there we continued around the loop, our next stop was 12KM off the main route down a fairly decent dirt road across the barrens to the coast. The Cape Pine lighthouse sits just in from the coastal cliffs about 300 feet from sea level. The only lighthouse that I’ve been to that was constructed of cast iron. Back when it was constructed in 1851, it cost the British government 6500 pounds.

We followed Route 90 back up the coast. A gas stop and a good lunch at a local store kept us going strong for the rest of the day. We decided to cut across Route 91, and then head south down Route 92 to Cape Saint Mary’s. Here, we would see our first moose, and the first live moose I had ever seen on Newfoundland while riding my motorcycle. Grazing in the ditch, they ran off quickly as we approached them.

Another 10KM off the main road (this one was a paved single lane) we arrived at Cape Saint Mary’s to check out our 5th and final lighthouse of the trip. Along with the lighthouse was a large parking lot with a building labelled Ecological Reserve. Alongside it was a group of ten individuals with the biggest cameras I had ever seen. They looked more like telescopes. As we walked up to the building, I asked one of the ladies what the big cameras were for. She looked at me in surprise and said, “We are here to see and photograph the Northern Gannet.” Not sure what that was I asked, “What’s a Gannet?” She replied in shock and awe, “You’re not here to see the birds!?”

We walked in the front door of what we discovered was a migratory bird museum. There, the curator asked if we were there to see the birds. “What birds?” I said. “The Northern Gannet, look out that giant window in the front, there are over 100,000 of them on that rock over there!” Said the curator. Wow, what a sight! “You can walk right over there in amongst them if you want to get shit on” said the curator, “That’s what’s going to happen to all those photographers from national geographics.” Me and Cam had a good laugh. We checked out the museum and walked out about halfway, staying far enough back not to get shit on.

Not soon after it was time to hustle as it was late in the afternoon. We finished the loop heading north up Route 100, along the windy coast. We wound up on a dirt road, having to backtrack a little before we found pavement again. We made it back to St. Johns again just as the sun set. Time for a bite, and one last visit to Christians Pub before we head back over to the west side of the rock tomorrow. Just one drink, that’s all. Just one.

Day 6 I woke up slightly hungover, but ready to blast to the west coast of the island. Our destination was Norris Point, a small community nestled in Gros Morne national park. I had stayed in Norris Point on every trip I had ever taken to Newfoundland and made some great friends there over the years. It was about a 700-kilometer day of backtracking the road we had came across the rock on. That was until we reached Deer Lake, where we turned north up Route 430 (The Viking Route).

Just up the road a few kilometers we entered Gros Morne national park, which has the best roads, and the best riding in the whole province. There are no potholes to dodge, and no bumps in the road. Just a pile of twistys, blind hills, and corners to navigate as you weave your way north. There’s lots to look at: mountains, rock faces, and the east arm of Bonne Bay. With breathtaking lookoffs just off the road it’s hard not to stop at all of them and take in the beautiful natural scenery. Definitely a must ride if you’re in Newfoundland on a motorcycle.

We stopped at one of my favourite spots, a lookoff at sea level at the base of Gros Morne on a long straight stretch parallel to the bay. You can see Norris Point from here, further across the harbour is the town of Woody Point, and beyond that is the Tableland mountains. We enjoyed some snacks and a beverage before riding the remainder of the road, a quick 15 minutes to our cottage in Norris Point.

Pulling into Out East BNB we were greeted by my good friends Jean and Milton, owners of the lovely property. After unpacking our stuff and getting situated, we noticed rain had started to fall. We had made reservations at a nearby restaurant. Jean was aware of the rain as well, and decided to lend us her car to drive over so we would not get soaked. The hospitality here is hands down amazing, and it’s a big reason why I keep coming back.

After we returned it was down to Terrys Shed to enjoy some drinks and a little smoke. I met Terry on my first trip to the rock in 2016, and my first stay at Out East BNB, which was originally Terrys BNB. The BNB at that time had just been purchased by Jean and Milton but still had Terry’s name on it. I was a bit lost and ended up down at the end of the lane at a shed. I noticed it had a motorcycle in it, and another parked outside. When I poked my head in to ask for some directions, that’s when I met Terry, and I’ve been visiting him on every trip in his iconic shed ever since.

Day 7 was our last day on the rock. We packed up our bikes at the cabin and enjoyed a wonderful breakfast that Jean had cooked for us. From there, we headed south back down Route 430 until we reached the turnoff for Route 431: a road through the mountains and along some rivers to the opposite side of Bonne Bay, which was home to the villages of Woody Point, Trout River, and the Tablelands Park. Another fantastic ride.

I really wanted to take Cam over to see the Tablelands. The Tableland mountains are a very unique place. The rock that forms them are red in color and they are highly acidic, so much so that little to no plant life grows on them. This is because it is part of the earths mantle that has pushed up through the crust.

Across the valley is another mountain that is lush and green. The road runs along the valley floor below perfectly splitting the two scenes. You look to one side, and you feel like you’re riding on mars; look the other way and it’s life on earth. Before we left, we visited the interpretation center there, and each got a sticker for the inside of our saddlebags.

From there we headed to Steady Brook, and a ski hill called Marble Mountain, which was just off the Trans Canada highway. I had gotten into some ziplining adventures earlier on this summer, and there was one here that I really wanted to check out. Nine ziplines back and forth across the mountain, and over top of Steady Brook waterfalls, which would take about an hour to complete. We lucked out as it was calling for rain all day, so we were the only two on the tour with the two guides, a couple guys from college. What a blast, what a thrill!

Afterwards we grabbed a quick meal in Corner Brook and headed for the overnight ferry in Port-aux-Basques. There was a slight delay due to high winds the last few days. It was raining hard by the time we were loaded up onto the ferry. After we got situated, it was lights out for me.

Day 8 we floated into North Sydney, Nova Scotia somewhat rested, and ready for the ride home. Rain or shine, from this point its always hammer down to get home, get unpacked, and give the bike a much-needed wash. Until next year Newfoundland!

Travis Mack - Darksiders Dartmouth

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North Coast – End of the Road

It was late June 2023. Myself, some Darksider’s brothers, and my friend Greg hit the road on a sunny Saturday morning. Greg was on his HD Road Glide, and I was riding my Indian Challenger. I had just gotten my bike back from the dealership after having some electronical sensor issues that kept putting it in to limp mode. Our destination was Bathurst, New Brunswick, where our brothers from the Darksider’s North Shore charter were hosting their 9th Annual Coastal Run. The run takes place along the North Shore coast of New Brunswick. The ride up was fast. Double lane highways in the Maritimes have little traffic, and navigating a large pack of motorcycles along them is done with ease. When the highway turns to single lane just past Shediac, New Brunswick it gets more interesting. We tend to do a lot of passing, requiring lots of concentration to do so safely.

We made it to the North Shore clubhouse about an hour and a half before kickstands up and got our run t-shirts. We chatted and hung out with our brothers and the local supporters, as more clubs from across the Maritimes began to arrive.

Around 150 bikes hit the pavement heading north to a private spot where some club and family members had a BBQ set up with their famous lobster rolls and ice-cold beverages. Ice cold beverages were very important because I remember it getting extremely hot outside. It was one of the few Saturdays in the summer of 2023 that we didn’t have rain. After the run we made our way back to the clubhouse to party the night away with our brothers and friends.

Greg and I stayed at the nearby hotel for the night. Our plan was to meet up with my brother Roller and his wife Jana in the morning and embark on a journey along Quebec’s route 138 that runs along the north coast of the gulf of the St. Lawerence to the end of the road.

The next morning the sun was gone, and the road was wet. Greg and I suited up in our rain gear and headed north to Roller and Jana’s place. They would be joining us the rest of the trip on Roller’s orange HD Road Glide. By the time we arrived the road had begun to dry up. We had a cup of coffee and relaxed in Roller’s gazebo that overlooks the bay, which has a great view of the Appalachian Mountains in the Gaspe peninsula.

Our destination for the day was Baie Comeau, Quebec. It didn’t consist of a lot of riding (less than 300KM) as we were constrained by a ferry crossing, as is a normal occurrence when traveling in Atlantic Canada. We left Rollers without our rain gear on. The road had dried up, and the weather was looking promising. We crossed into the province of Quebec and travelled north along Highway 132 through the Matapedia Valley. Usually this was a beautiful ride with the twisty roads winding along the Matapedia River through the mountain range. However, that was not the case today. Just before the rainy weather had started, Atlantic Canada suffered from one of its worst dry spells in years resulting in several forest fires. We just happened to be downwind of a few big fires raging in Northern Quebec. There wasn’t a whole lot to see but the faint outline of the mountains. With the smoke partially blocking out the sun, it gave an illusion of a cloudy overcast.

We rolled into Matane, Quebec, and loaded up on the ferry that crossed the St. Lawerence River destined for Baie Comeau. The ferry ride was about 2 hours long, costing a little over 50$ for one person and their motorcycle. Between the smoke and the fog, you couldn’t see much. The ferry itself being only a few years old was very nice, especially compared to many of the relics still in use in the Atlantic. When we arrived in Baie Comeau, miraculously the fog cleared, and the smoke lifted. We found a hotel to stay at, unloaded our gear, and off we went into the town to find the best place to eat. When we finished our well-deserved supper, we went on search for what looked to be a lookoff at the top of a large hill in the middle of town. After I led us down a bit of a goat path (A little off-roading has never deterred me…) we found ourselves at a giant cross and a lookoff that hasn’t been cleared in years.

From there we made our way back to our hotel to wind down and relax. The red lights all around the hotel reminded me a bit of the red-light district in Amsterdam, but instead of sexy women in lingerie behind the doors there were weary travellers coming and going, and fire fighters who were fighting a nearby blaze.

The next morning, we were up early packing our bikes and checking tire pressures. We had around 600KM Northeast to travel to our accommodation at the end of the pavement in a small town called Natashquan, which has a population of only around 250 people. We had a quick breakfast and set out for our first stop: the Pointe-de-Monts Lighthouse. It was about 12KM off the main road, down a narrow and bumpy side road. The lighthouse was in good shape and had a couple of cannons posted up out front.

After the lighthouse, our next stop was the town of Sept Iles. The road up until this point was mountainous, running along the coast and winding inland with lots of bridges, and even a tunnel. From Sept Iles on, the road began to flatten out, hugging the coast. The trees got smaller and smaller. We had heard a lot about the local cuisine being very good along the North Coast, so we decided to stop in Havre Saint Pierre for a late lunch. I wasn’t disappointed with a good feed of cod fish. The road became even flatter and the land more barren as we neared our final destination of the day. The quality of the pavement surprised me, I hadn’t expected it to be in such good condition. A wide road with little to no potholes or bumps, with very little traffic as well which is always a bonus.

We made it to our auberge where we would be staying the next two nights and checked in. The lady there reminded us to close our blinds as the sun rose there at 3:30AM. We were quite far north having just crossed the 50th parallel. We wanted to grab a few drinks and snacks for the evening but had noticed that the one local store was closed when we rode by. “That’s okay!” said the lady from the auberge, “I’ll call the owner and get them to open it up for you!”

We were very appreciative of this, and thanked the lady for the kind gesture heading to the store. Afterwards we were treated to another amazing meal, this time at the auberge.

The sky was clear so we thought we would catch the late-night sunset on the beach and check out the historic fishing village over 150 years old called Les Galets. It turned out the be a great evening for shooting some photos. On the way out I spoke to a couple of paramedics who were enjoying the sunset and our motorcycles. One of them had recognized my Indian Challenger off the new racing series ‘King of the Baggers’ and mentioned he had never seen one before in the area. We headed back to the auberge and after a few drinks I was ready for bed.

The next morning, we woke up to some light drizzle and a temperature around +12. After having our fill of breakfast and coffee at the auberge we suited up in our cold weather and rain gear. The destination today was the end of Route 138. About 55km east of us (50KM dirt) was a small community of about 50-60 people called Kegaska. The lady at the auberge shared with us that we were a little early. In about 2 weeks they were planning to pave the 50KM section. But right now, they were just doing grading (oh, joy…).

We left and were quickly greeted by the dirt. The light drizzle was in our favour as it kept the dust down. The start of the road was newly graded but well packed down. Soon we found the freshly graded gravel, which is like driving on a bed of marbles. We passed the grader but got stuck on the wrong side of the road by the windrow of gravel it was leaving on the centerline. The road packed down again and we were able to travel along going about 70Km/hr. We passed a bulldozer in one spot spreading more gravel. We finally reached the small village of Kegaska after about an hour.

There at the end of the road was the famous 138 FIN sign. We stopped to grab a few pictures and put our stickers up on the sign. Every year it gets so plastered with stickers the Quebec government must replace it. From there we headed out to the coast to check out an old shipwreck called Le Brion. I’d guess in another 5-10 years the earth and the sea will fully reclaim this decaying ship.

On our way out we ran into a Kegaskan local named Terry, AKA “Mr. Clean”. He was busy working on his new campground that he would soon be opening for the very short tourist season. A great guy, he was surprised to see us all the way up there on our baggers, he told us that he once had a Harley V-Rod. I found this rather unbelievable as we were 50KM from the nearest paved road and it was the ONLY paved road to ride aside from the small towns off it for 600KM. He said it spent most of the time in a closet in his house, and that his wife hated that. He invited us over to his home, showed us his garage which included a mint 1996 Ski-doo Elan (the last year it was ever produced), more cool memorabilia, and a plaque celebrating the purchase of his V-Rod. He showed us his lobster shack and bar as well. I wish we could have stayed longer, but some heavier rain was scheduled to start late afternoon that could turn the dirt road into a mudhole, so we were limited with time. Before we left, he called a motorcycle friend in Natashquan who could give us a hand cleaning all the dirt off our bikes when we got back.

As we made our way back my check engine light came on, and my heart sank. No f*cking way is this happening about as far away from home as possible. I still seemed to have all my power (no limp mode). I quickly flicked to the diagnostics menu. It was a code telling me the bike was running rich and the fuel correction was out of range. The gas was terrible up there, and with the aftermarket exhaust and the slow speeds on the gravel road, I couldn’t open it up like I was used to doing. Luckily it didn’t turn out to be a problem at all, and the code disappeared the next day when we got back on the pavement.

On the ride back we got lucky, the drizzle had picked up but not enough to turn the road to mud. When we came across the bulldozer it has just spread out 2 truck loads of gravel in about a 1-foot lift. 1 foot of loose gravel is almost like riding on a dry sandy beach. The bike just sort of goes where it wants to. You must keep your momentum up, don’t let off the gas, don’t break, and stay very loose and try to just ride it out. The front wheel goes where it wants, all over the place. We all made it through in one piece with no spills.

We pulled back into the auberge and were quickly greeted by Terry’s friend in a Toyota Tacoma truck. He was there to lead us down to his place where he had his hose ready, along with a wash bucket, rags, and whatever else we needed. He was even nice enough to leave his Toyota there for us, with the keys in it in case we needed to go anywhere since it was raining! The hospitality on the North Coast is truly outstanding.

The next day we packed up all our stuff and hit the road heading west. Our destination was back the way we came to Baie Comeau. We staggered our stops in different small villages for a while. Taking in some beautiful coastal scenery, waterfalls, collecting some stickers for inside our saddlebags, and of course enjoying some more local food. I think I gained 10lbs on this trip. We got back into Baie Comeau just before more heavy rain started to fall. Greg and I were going to continue down Route 138 to Quebec City the next day, but with torrential rains forecasted for the complete 600KM ride we decided to book the ferry to Matane for the following morning with Roller and Jana.

We made it all the way south to Amqui for a lunch stop at a microbrewery when the skies opened up and it started to pour. It didn’t take very long, even in our rain gear to get soaked. From there we said goodbye to Roller and Jana as they headed home.

Greg and I stayed in Bathurst, New Brunswick for the night and made the final leg of the journey home the following morning, completing our approximately 3000KM 6 day road trip. All the way to the end of the road and back again.

[lighthousesbymotorcycle]

[lighthousesbymotorcycle]

Lighthouses by motorcycle is a picture book that includes over 100 different lighthouses from across Canada that I visited on my motorcycle from 2016-2023. If you would like a signed copy please leave a message or email me at travismackenzie138@gmail.com

they are 30$ + shipping

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When It Rains It Pours

It was the middle of June 2023. Me and prospect Cam were gearing up for an 800+km day of riding in our beautiful province of Nova Scotia. The weather was cloudy, warm, and humid but we knew by the time we got home (which would be late into the night) that it would be raining. So, we packed all the appropriate riding gear. I was riding my 2012 Victory Highball, Cam on his 2022 El Diablo.

I met up with Cam, and a handful of the brothers from the Dartmouth charter at the Mt. Uniacke Pub just outside of the city. Freedom RC was putting on their Ride for Fred, a memorial run for one of its member’s fathers, who had passed away a few years back. It was a smaller group ride with about 35 bikes. Freedom RC led the way, and we all headed down towards Hubbard’s; snaking along the road that follows the Atlantic coastline of Nova Scotia. From there we headed back up Highway 14 towards Windsor. We made a few stops along the way for gas, snacks, smokes, and to just hangout. On the last stretch of the ride, confidence levels were high, everyone was feeling great on their bikes carving some nice twisty’s along Highway 1. Just in front of me, Eric of Freedom RC, was on his cholo style bike. These style bikes have very little lean angle, they do not corner well. He was using the whole road to make the tight corners at these speeds. Suddenly, on one tight corner, he high sided on his fishtail pipes, sliding across the road until the bike met the shoulder. When the bike hit the shoulder, it dug into the gravel and started to violently roll. Eric was thrown off the bike down into the ditch. A few others and I went into the other lane to avoid the flipping motorcycle and parts flying everywhere. Luckily there were no vehicles coming. By the time I got my bike parked, Cam and the others were already down in the ditch with Eric. He was alert and responding. A group of us picked his bike up and moved it off the road. The ambulance and first responders showed up quickly so most decided to continue the ride to a Freedom RC members house. There, family and friends who didn’t ride had the BBQ fired up and lots of food ready for us when we arrived. Eric also had his snack truck set up as well. We all grabbed a bite to eat. While we were eating, we received the bad news that Eric had to be air lifted from the crash site to the QE2 hospital in Halifax.

After eating, Cam and I decided to push on and hit the road. We were traveling to the Highlanders Antigonish annual bike draw in Havre Boucher. We grabbed a few snacks from Erics truck and off we went. After a quick stop for fuel in New Glasgow we got off the highway in Sutherlands River and headed up a beautiful section of the sunrise trail (Route 245) towards Cape George, pushing the limits, riding hard, and having a blast. We decided to stop at the Cape George lighthouse for a little snack, and to take in the scenery. While sitting at the picnic table we opened our phones and read the tragic news about Eric. He had not made it. He passed away on the way to the hospital. With a lot of riding left to do ourselves before we made it home that night, it was a difficult thing to process right then and there. It takes time for this kind of news to sink in. We hopped back on our bikes with heavy hearts and lighter hands for the last stretch of the run to Highlanders. When we arrived, we found that the news had beat us there. News travels fast. We stayed for a while, chatting with some friends as they drew numbers for the bike draw. We enjoyed some more BBQ and cold beverages. Bikers love BBQ (Good Thing).

The sun went down, slowly sinking behind the tree line. The rain still had not started. I checked the radar and seen that it was indeed coming, but we could get to our first fuel stop outside New Glasgow before we had to suit up in rain gear.

The ride back was all highway. The newly twinned section had just been completed a few weeks before between Antigonish and New Glasgow. The fresh pavement was smooth, obscuring the sense of speed as we rode. We arrived at a 24-hour Irving outside New Glasgow just before midnight. The guy inside working was resting his eyes, so we had to wake him up to turn on the fuel pump. Before we left, we suited up in our rain gear. As we rode down the highway towards Truro, we crested Mt. Thom. As the whole sky came into view again, we got an amazing sight and surprise. Lightning was lighting up the sky ahead. As we rode closer to Truro the lightning was getting closer and brighter. What an amazing experience. I looked to the left across the town of Truro towards highway 102 and all I could see was a wall of water. We rode straight into it. The rain was torrential, coming down so hard you could not see. The road turns into a lake, your helmet fogs up, and the rain starts to find its way into your suit. All you can do is try to stay loose and have a laugh. Most people hate riding in the rain, especially that kind of rain. I love it, it’s a hell of a thrill. We pushed on, passing a cop car that was going about 50km/hr with the 4 ways on. They couldn’t have caught up to us if they wanted to, bikes are much better in the rain then vehicles.

The torrential rain pounded down for 30 minutes before it lightened to a steady rain just as I pulled off my exit, and into my driveway. Happy to be home, I parked the bike and stripped off my rain gear. I headed inside, physically, and mentally exhausted after a full day on the road.

In Memory of Eric Alexander – Freedom RC – Gone But Not Forgotten

-Travis Darksiders Dartmouth