Progress to date: 33 days, 1466 miles

A year ago I'd never even heard of Gaspé. That all changed when Rich came up with the outrageous idea of the Grand Gaspé Cycling Tour. And today, 1466 miles later we're in Gaspé! Throughout all of our planning and certainly as we cycled through the miles, Gaspé has felt like the pinnacle of our trip. Even though we are still only 2/3 of the way done, we can't help but feel like we've made it. Just getting to Gaspé is an accomplishment in itself.

There's really little of value I can add. For now it's enough just to be here. I'll let the pictures show the lead up to Gaspé and our arrival.

Early morning fog just burning off, with the headlands of Percé in the background

Rich by the Coin-du-Banc salt marshes

I'm always happy when we find a good coffee shop!

Coastal view

Cliffs getting higher - as are the cycling hills!

Indian Head Rock

We arrive in Gaspé!

Time to celebrate!

Percé presented us with a dilemma. It is the eastern-most point of Gaspésie situated in a valley between two high ridges, reached by steep and winding roads. I'd read about the spectacular beauty of the area and had my heart set on seeing it. Rich took stock in the advice of another long distance cyclist who sang the praises of the flatter road that bypassed it all. Fortunately, our Warm Showers host enabled us to do both!

But let me back up. For days the weather reports have been predicting rain. So far, it hadn't materialized except at night. Yesterday the threat seemed more ominous as we started out under dark clouds, so we pressed on leaving Port-Daniel early in the morning hoping to beat the raindrops. But we also encountered the beginning of the steep hills in Gaspésie, as well as a stiff headwind coming right off the water. So we had our work cut out for us. Miraculously, the skies cleared once again and we felt comfortable backing off our pace. I thought it even made the wind more tolerable (“ocean breezes” I called them), but Rich begged to differ on that point.

The payoff for the hill work was the increasingly dramatic coastline. The cliffs began to have the same reddish color we'd seen on PEI. And the views were captivating. Beaches still alternated with cliffs along the shore, and the wind whipped the water into reasonable sized waves that pounded the sand. It may not have been a calm warm day, but it had its own appeal.

Coastal View

View of Grande-Rivière

Our host home for the night was in Cap-d'Espoir, just south of Percé. We were surprised to see the return of rural farmland on the landscape, and delighted to find the home inland on a mile of undeveloped land. We were warmly greeted by Nathalie, who also delivered the latest weather report: 90% chance of rain overnight and throughout the next day, accumulating up to 2″ of rain. Would we like to stay a second night? They were the sweetest words we ever heard!

With certain impending rain, she offered to take us into Percé to see the sights. We didn't hesitate for a moment, knowing it might be our only chance. Nathalie was poised to be an excellent tour guide, as she works in the tourism industry, and she enthusiastically showed us the best sights. The Rocher-Percé dominates the seacoast right from the town – I had not expected it to be so close and I imposing! Even in the dreary weather we could appreciate its massive size and unique structure. We walked up the steep hills near the Rocher where there are attracitve red and white buildings belonging to the university and Haritage Canada. Walking the beach and out on the wharf in the brisk air was envigorating and a nice change from cycling.

Our first view of Rocher-Percé

Rich and the Rocher-Percé

Close-up of Rocher--Percé

Shoreline opposite the Rocher

We could see Bonaventure island opposite the town, with its historic buildings. The opposite side of the island is home to over 200,000 northern gannets (cool looking white birds), but it was not the type of day for a boat ride to see them.

Although the drive into town involved some impressive hills, when Nathalie pointed out the continuation of that road going north we began to get the idea. At 13% grade for almost 2 kilometers, it would most certainly be a cycling challenge! But that was only the tip of the iceberg. She then drove us along that stretch, and it is a sight that will forever be etched in my mind! Over the summit, the road twisted and turned with sheer cliff walls on one side and plummeting straight down into the water on the other. Add to that more steep grades, alternating up and down, and I knew I would feel sheer terror trying to navigate it on my bike. I didn't know whether to be relieved that I would be spared the challenge or disappointed not to see those gorgeous views at close range.

There's no doubt that we will be taking the bypass road tomorrow when we forge on. But thanks to Nathalie, we were still able to take in the beauty of Percé. She was right about the rain. It finally caught up with us. And we've spent a relaxing day staying dry with her warm hospitality. She's been a wealth of information and fascinating conversation, and like us appreciates lingering over a bottle of wine in the evenings. Yes, there are many jewels in Percé.

Thank you Nathalie for a great stay!

In many ways we are an unlikely pair. Rich at 6'2″ towers over my 5'1″ frame, and even his bike dwarfs mine. But we have no problem cycling together, trading the lead depending in the conditions and stopping as necessary to accommodate each others' needs.

When it comes to weather, our differences truly surface. While Rich can't tolerate the heat, my capacity for handling the cold is severely limited. Now that the days are shortening, and the weather is cooling off, we look all the more incongruous traveling together. Take yesterday, for example. Clouds obscured the sun for much of the day, preventing its warming rays from raising the temperature our of the 50s. We faced a stiff headwind with a distinct chill off the Gulf of St. Lawrence. My early morning extra layers of warmth never came off. And Rich? He thought it was still mid-summer! We were both comfortable.

Each night we plan the next day's ride in detail. More accurately, Rich plans it out with Google Maps conveniently downloaded to his tablet. That gets transcribed to turn by turn riding directions which he places in his front pack for easy reference. That becomes his bible for the day. Me, I refold my map. The first thing I do upon entering a new province is visit the tourist info center and get a new paper map. I'm a very visual person, and love that tactical reference point in my front pack. It's my reference point for the day, following our progress town by town. We each cling to our own method. But we always make it to the same destination at the end of the day.

Photography is a common interest of ours. We even have nearly identical cameras. But subject matters tend to vary. Rich constantly keeps a lookout for birds, craving an opportunity to either capture a new species or catch an interesting shot of a favorite fowl. Wildflowers are another passion of his. I think he documented every single flower on the Confederation Trail on PEI. For my part, I can't resist harbors. I traipse down to every wharf, pause at each inlet and look for interesting angles on the docked boats. Fishing boats have become a particular favorite of mine. It's rather nice to have two perspectives on the sights we pass.

Two people. One trip. We will probably each tell the stories differently when we get back. But that's the spice of life. It's worked for 1,400 miles so far. I expect it will last for another 800 miles.

Progress to date: 30 days, 1,368 miles

When we stopped at the Information Booth upon entering Quebec, the woman added us to list of visitors and asked how long we'd be there. We looked at each other and shrugged. She seemed a bit mystified, but even after she told us the mileage around the Gaspé Peninsula we still didn't know how long it would take us. We finally told her two weeks and let it go at that. We're far enough into this trip now that days are blurring together and time seems unimportant. It's a great feeling!

We also leaned a new term: Gaspésie. It refers to the whole Gaspé Peninsula. I rather like the snappy shorthand for where we are.

Like most of the other areas we've cycled through, we are following the coastal road. Many times in the past it seemed a stretch to show the road alongside the water, when there were few views along the way. And in Maine, the coastline was so ragged that we rarely got all the way out to the ocean's edge. But here in Gaspésie we have truly been right near the water for two days straight. We've gotten an eyeful of Chaleur Bay with its capes and inlets, and now it is widening out into the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

To the other side, the land rises into steep, forested hills. Their constant presence is a reminder of the hilly interior of the peninsula. It is a beautiful backdrop to the water scenes and the coastal towns. Along the bay there is a buffer of flat land between the water and the hills. We've been enjoying that mild terrain and the carefree cycling it has afforded us. Blessed with clear sunny days, it has made for extremely pleasant travel.

We had the good fortune to stay in a Warm Showers host home right on Chaleur Bay. Rising early, we caught a nice sunrise over the bay right from their yard. We were pleased to get in a few hours of cycling before the ever-present winds started up. Not only was it smooth riding, but the reflections in the calm waters were a rare treat.

Not all of our favorite sights involve natural beauty. Sometimes a little humor and creative spirit goes a long way to entertain a couple of weary cyclists. Such was the case in New Carlisle. There we found a vast collection of uniquely painted fire hydrants to tickle our fancy. They even had one of our dear dog, Spot! Our progress through town was severely hindered by the need for frequent photo stops, but neither of us minded.

Having reached the end of the bay, it would appear that we have also run out of mild terrain. We have had a few stretches of rolling hills to get us warmed up. And today we finished up with one serious climb. From the looks of the incline leading out of town in the morning, we are heading straight into the hills. Gaspésie is about to show us her true colors. The honeymoon is over. I sure hope we're ready.

Progress to date: 27 days, 1,196 miles

Throughout this trip, when we tell people we're going to cycle the Gaspé Peninsula, they first exclaim how beautiful it is. Then they go on about the hills and wind. We nod politely and say “yeah, we know.” But do we?

We are finally within striking distance. The day before yesterday, we could see the peninsula across Chaleur Bay. It was our first glimpse. “See those high ridges over there?” Rich says. It was enough to send us scurrying to pull up topographical maps of the area, scouring them for the imposition of height on roadway. The first part looks all right, actually. There appears to be enough flatter land between the hills and the coast for a road to squeak through. That's our road. Out toward the end, near the town of Gaspé we know there are cliffs and hills will be unavoidable. The question is only how soon we will encounter them.

I have another niggling concern in the back of my mind. Cold. Already the mornings are chillier and the wind crisper. We've been extremely fortunate with the weather so far. In fact Rich would say it's been too hot. But with September nearly upon us, and traveling in a northerly direction, I can see only one outcome. Brrrr! Once again, we have yet to learn how much cooler it will get, and I can only hope the small arsenal of cold weather clothing scrunched into my panniers will be sufficient.

More than one person has told us we're going the “wrong direction.” With the prevailing winds out of the west, we'll be facing smack into them all the way down the St. Lawrence Seaway. Well, wouldn't we get them one way or another heading out to the end at Gaspé and back? That's my reasoning. I'll cling to that to get me through.

The timing of our travels is such that it has us heading around the Gaspé Peninsula in Septermber. Apparently it shuts down in October, and many places begin to close in September. For a sparsely populated area where lodging and restaurants may be spread far apart already, that could be a challenge. That's why we're carrying camping equipment. Perhaps we'd better replenish our supply of bagels and peanutbutter.

Despite all that, I'm not just looking ahead but looking forward to Gaspé. It's the namesake of our Grand Gaspé Tour, and to me it has always felt like the pinnacle of our adventure. It's what makes this an audacious trip. Getting there and seeing the scenery will be all the sweeter for all the effort involved in the process.

Tomorrow afternoon we will leave New Brunswick and enter the province of Quebec. And head out the Gaspé Peninsula. No more looking ahead. We'll be living it.

Since leaving Prince Edward Island, we've slowed down our pace. We discovered we had not been faithful enough in taking our rest days, and it was catching up with us. So we cut back on our miles, took some time off to relax, and are taking our time following the Acadian Coastal Drive up the coast of New Brunswick. With bright sunny skies and warm days, it's been very easy to stop and enjoy the sights along the way. Oh, and we've been more attentive to fitting in our daily ice cream stops as well!

I think pictures tell the story the best:

Confederation Bridge from PEI - longest bridge in the world, required a shuttle ride

View from our motel room on Indian Point - very peaceful

The Acadian Coastal Drive!

Rich conquers the world's largest lobster!

Molly pauses alongside a bay

Rich, the bird photographer

Boardwalk over the dunes at Bouctouche

Molly found a new ice cream treat - soft serve with Oreo!

We also spent a wonderful afternoon and evening with Warm Showers hosts Charles and Marthe. They whisked us off to Kouchibouguac National Park where we walked the pristine and uncrowded sand beach on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. It was a treat to see the park, as we would not have ventured that far off our route, and it was clearly worth the visit. Charles is an avid cyclist and he and Marthe have big plans for a post-retirement tour next year, so we had plenty of fodder for conversation. We haven't been as well fed as we were in less than 24 hours at their house – we were amazed what we could consume when such good home made food was graciously put in front of us! Our send-off included Charles' signature lobster omelettes, and great advice on local roads and a bike shop, which proved invaluable.

Marthe, Charles and Rich walking Kellys Beach at the National Park

Charles accompanying us at the start of our ride in the morning

We're rather liking this new pace, especially as it encourages us to see more along the way. But with 1,100 miles still to go, we can't dilly dally too long.

Progress to Date: 22 days, 1011 miles

We've hit 1,000 miles for the Grand Gaspé Cycling Tour! It feels like a significant and particularly gratifying milestone. We've also been away from home for four weeks, and cycling for over three. Time to take a temperature check on our bodies and state of mind!

Our Bodies

Physical fitness: Despite three weeks of repeated cycling, we still feel strong. We continue to mount our bikes each day ready to ride. We haven't necessarily been good at taking rest days, and that began to take its toll. A few days ago, my thighs began to complain each time I started up until I got going. And my body was tired. Rich's legs were “toast” in his words, and he was moving slowly. We ordered up a rest day and vowed to repeat it more regularly in the future.

Cycling challenges: So far we've been able to handle the cycling regime. Steep hills are tough, as are strong headwinds, but it's just a matter of pushing through them. Rich did draw the line at going over to the outer coast of Nova Scotia – he didn't think he was up to climbing up and over the ridge line. So we followed more moderate terrain (for Nova Scotia).

Health: Okay, truth be told, we haven't scored as well on this front (pun intended). Rich caught a bug in the very beginning of the trip that plagued him for a couple of weeks. It zapped his strength, left him in fits of coughing, and caused him to lay low in Acadia National Park. Just abut the time he hit 95% healthy again, I succombed to his malady. Continued cycling hasn't helped our recovery much. But we did make concessions on our lodging choices, trading a poor night's sleep in a tent for a real bed in a motel a few times. Hopefully all that will soon be behind us.

Our minds

Missing home? Not really. It sounds kind of cold and hard when put that way, but we're living in the moment and thoroughly enjoying our experiences. There is nothing at home that could top this.

Missing family? Of course. There is nothing I'd like more than to hug my grandkids. Or gather with one or all of our kids. I hate missing some traditional family events while we're gone. But two months in the grand scheme of things is a small period of time to devote to this trip of a lifetime. So we do our best to keep in touch by email, Facebook and eek out a phone call when we can.

Tired of traveling? Not at all. There is still so much to see.

Still talking to each other? Mostly. Our biggest disagreements are over where to eat (Molly: healthy, local and a nice setting; Rich: food when he finds it), and when and how long to linger along the way, including scenic detours. Other than that, we're still good traveling buddies.

What do we miss most? Molly: Healthy home made food. Fresh fruit and hearty bread with raisins. Good coffee, even better, a latte. Rich: Having an occasional lazy morning.

What don't we miss? Our wardrobes. Having no clothes choices makes life very simple. And nobody else knows we've worn the exact same clothes every other day of our trip.

Our Equipment

Rich: 2 flat tires, fixed en route. Lost 1 pair of socks.

Molly: Gears out of adjustment and repaired. Rear view mirror flopping; electrical tape a mediocre repair job.

Overall, I'd say we've passed this check-up with flying colors. And we're ready for the next 1,000 miles!

Progress to date: 21 days, 941 miles

Getting on our bikes day after day. Cycling everywhere. Limited to just what we can fit into our panniers. After almost 1,000 miles, I can give you a small peek into our world of travel.

Probably the biggest piece of reality that I've had to face is that we can't do it all. Not even this Energizer Bunny can reach all the same sights that you can in a car. I thought I was being practical when I chose just the eastern shore of Prince Edward Island to hug the coast. But I had to settle for a small portion of it if we were going to see anything else on the island. Seeing everything up close means seeing less overall. It's not a bad thing. I just had to wrap my brain around it.

Tour books and information signs are meant for car travelers. And directions from locals have to be interpreted with a degree of skepticism. “Just down the road” rarely really is. What's a short detour in a car is a major side trip on a bike. Distances are significant at 12mph. It means we don't veer off our route much. So much for those craft stores “over there.” But then again, we don't have any spare room in our panniers, nor do we want any extra weight. So shopping is a moot point. It's rather liberating, really.

That bring us to food. Rich's adage is “If you see food, eat.” He's right, really. You can never count on finding something up ahead. We've leaned that lesson the hard way. One morning we hit the jackpot. Spotting signs for a home bakery, we stepped into a kitchen filled with goodies. Leaving with handfuls of baked goods each, we stretched out on the grass to consume them on the spot and sugared our way through the next few miles.

It's those spontaneous personal experiences that are one of the best parts of cycling. Having depleted his water bottles in the heat and headwinds yesterday, Rich stopped at a house where an elderly man was out in his yard. Not only did the man provide cold water from his fridge for refills, he also dispensed sage advice. “You're going the wrong way, young man,” he said with a twinkle. “Gaspé is the other direction. Going with the wind!” That exchange powered Rich's legs for the next few miles!

Most stops we make are fairly short. It's hard to get going again after stopping too long, as our legs stiffen up. And we lose our momentum. At times it makes me feel like all we are doing is moving from point A to point B. So I have to consciously focus on making sure we don't just cycle by interesting places. And I have to remind Rich, “I want to see this town, not just cycle through it.”

Nice view for our rest day

After leaving our cycling buddies in Maine, we have only a loose itinerary and make detailed travel plans only a day or two ahead. That gives us a lot of flexibility, which is a mixed bag… On one hand, we can now plan around the weather. Rather than repeat our long slog through the rain of a couple weeks ago, we swapped our rest day to coincide with the forecast for rain. It's a lot more pleasant that way. On the other hand, it leaves our route open to interpretation. Invariably, I set my sights on the more aggressive itinerary. Predictably, Rich weighs in on the practical side. Compromise is not always easy.

Would we change anything? Absolutely not. Despite the realities, we're still sold on cycle touring. Good thing, as we're not even half way through the Grand Gaspé Tour yet.