09:00 Rushing River Provincial Park (ON)
12:00 Winnipeg (MB) 270 km
The Rain! (Note the capital R!)
It rained lightly all night, but luck granted me a one-hour window upon waking to pack my things and prep the bike.
Traveling this way is truly different; I am totally at the mercy of the weather and nature. Everything is wet.
First lesson: always keep the next morning’s clothes inside the tent! It’s no fun going out to retrieve your things in the cold and rain. I quickly lose body heat and have to dress fast to stay comfortable.
My first night in the forest gave me a bit of trouble and was relatively expensive, but it was relaxing and appreciated. I imagine I’ll eventually establish a routine and things will become simpler with practice.
On an encouraging note: I am already ahead of my schedule and have very little driving to do today to reach Winnipeg, where I plan to spend the night. 250 km maximum! It’s child’s play.
Of course, nothing is ever that easy on a motorcycle.
The temperature drops below 10 degrees and the rain gets serious. And when I say rain, I’m not talking about a gentle little shower, but one-liter drops straight from the Ice Age! I stop to gas up in Kenora (ON), a pretty village surrounded by lakes, but the deluge prevents any thorough visiting.
The cloud cover is so thick that it is literally dark. After 45 minutes, here I am in Manitoba! As promised, I have to take a photo of the sign, but what a storm! I summon my courage and pull over on the shoulder for two quick shots in the middle of the lightning.
It’s impressive to see how crossing the border transforms the landscape. Almost instantaneously, I go from a winding road lined with lakes to a four-lane highway, straight into infinity. Despite the rain, riding becomes easy. I engage the cruise control and relax a bit, taking my “shower” while moving. Jokes aside, my gear is no match: I am soaked.
Water penetrates my jacket (BMW Rallye 2 Pro), my shell (North Face), my heated vest, and ends up wetting my shirt. My gloves, which are too short, also let water in. I’ll need to adjust and find solutions, as this worries me for the northern portion of the adventure. For the first time, I truly wonder what I’m doing here.
An old friend, Nigel, whom I’ll run into in Calgary at the end of the trip, is originally from Winnipeg and suggested I stay with his mother, Ivy.
Winnipeg isn’t a tourist destination per se, but it is significant to me. In 1985, I spent the summer here at the University of Manitoba for English immersion. It was my first plane trip and my first journey without my parents. I wanted to see the city again for those memories.
Ivy, originally from Jamaica, welcomes me like a king. Such kindness! It’s not simple: I’m soaked and she has prepared an elaborate meal. Yet, I hesitate: Winnipeg in the rain doesn’t thrill me, and if I stay, I want to explore the city and have dinner downtown.
I go down to the basement to call Nadine. She is so excited she tells me four things at once. We are already discussing changing her flight plans to meet me in Vancouver instead of Prince Rupert. If the rest of the journey is like these past few days, she won’t enjoy the cold and rain between Prince Rupert and Vancouver.
After the call, I go back to talk with Ivy and finally decide to stay, as the sky is miraculously starting to clear.
I head to the University of Manitoba. Incredible: I remember nothing! Yet, the buildings are superb and historic. The eyes of a 16-year-old clearly don’t see the same things as those of a 40-year-old man.
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I then pass through downtown. Nothing special, but the good weather settles in for good, confirming my decision to spend the evening here.
Back at Ivy’s, I take my luggage apart again. My system isn’t right; I’m losing too much time loading and unloading. I’ll have to rethink my strategy. For lunch, the smell of Ivy’s Jamaican chicken is irresistible. Nigel was right: it’s delicious!
Later, I head back downtown. I spot four motorcycles parked on a sidewalk. I decide to mimic them to avoid the parking meters. I lock everything, set the alarm, and get ready to visit when a security guard stops me: it’s a reserved parking area for Canada Post.
Fortunately, he is friendly. Seeing where I’m from, we chat for 30 minutes. Finally, he lets me park there and even offers to watch my bike!
The tour can begin. Winnipeg reminds me of a mix of Denver and Chicago, in a smaller format. What strikes me most is the poverty and panhandling, particularly among the indigenous population downtown. That, I remembered.
I quickly visit The Forks, Saint-Boniface, and the Exchange District. The city seems a bit quiet, perhaps because I’m used to the excitement of Montreal or cities like Barcelona.
Fortunately, Irish Pubs are the same everywhere! After two beers, the city comes to life a bit more. I move on to the neighbor, “Oui Bistro.” I am pleasantly surprised by the meal and the atmosphere. The wine is very much appreciated after these few days on the road. A small cultural note: my steak-frites was served with ketchup… definitely, I am no longer in Montreal!
It’s past midnight when I get back to Ivy’s. Tomorrow will be a big day: I’m aiming for Edmonton. Over 1,300 km and 13 hours of driving… We’ll see if I make it!