Adventure Cyclist August 2000
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Untroubled Paradise Nova Scotia’s turbulent past has given way to an idyllic present got aboard the Air Nova flight for Halifax with my bike around town on my rented bike with my own gel-cushioned saddle crammed into my carry-on and my helmet dan- saddle installed. The town was lively at night. Teenagers gling from my arm in a plastic grocery bag. Apprehen- roller-bladed along the main street; children played in the sion and anticipation churned in equal parts in my little park across from the inn, with its flower beds and Vic- I torian gazebo; couples strolled along the waterfront, where stomach. Not about the flight, though this small commuter plane looked rather marginal lights and laughter spilled from busy restaurants and Author for flying over the North coffeehouses. Beside the harbor, a circle of granite Dorothy Atlantic to a foreign country. obelisks paid tribute to Lunenburg’s fishermen. Each Stephens had It was the Nova Scotia hills one listed the names of those who had been lost at some rough that I worried about. From sea. The center one bore the names of the ships that times ahead all accounts, they could had gone down. of her as she tests and observations I was released. The diagnosis: dehy- prepared to sometimes be long and steep Our first day’s ride took us along the coast to and unforgiving, rising Mahone Bay, a tiny village with one long Main Street dration and heat exhaustion. As I learned later, I had come from young middle age (40s and 50s) leave on her close to the third stage of heat-related illnesses: heat stroke, tour of Nova relentlessly one after another lined with shops and cafes and fresh fruit and veg- Nuts and Bolts to my 75. Almost all except me were Scotia. with little respite for tired etable markets. We cycled around the bay past sum- from which eight out of ten affected people die. fairly experienced cyclists. After we legs and bursting lungs. I mer homes hidden behind lush flower gardens and It was a hard way to learn a valuable lesson. It had been GETTING THERE: Air Canada/Air Nova rode all day, evening activities tended was only three years into stands of trees, interspersed with lovely views across a hot day, over 90 degrees, and I had ridden farther than I provides daily flights to Nova Scotia to be brief, but included an excellent this bicycle riding, after not the water of the graceful spires of Mahone Bay’s three ever had before in one day. I had taken frequent sips of from New York and Boston, and in performance one night of Thornton having sat on a bike for half famous churches. water from my water bottle, quite enough, I thought. I was partnership with Continental Airlines Wilder’s play, The Matchmaker, pre- a century, and I wasn’t at all On a deserted bit of beach seated on a weathered wrong. Sips are not enough. One of my fellow cyclists told offers connections through Houston, sented by the repertory theater group sure I was ready for this. dock and leaning against the pilings, my traveling me later that his rule of thumb is one bottle of water for Newark and Boston. Car ferries run in Wolfville. Many other companies True, I’d trained since companion, Marion, and I shared a picnic lunch of every hour of biking. The doctor’s prescription was to take from Bar Harbor and Portla offer tours in Nova Scotia. Consult spring, but only on the generally flat routes around my sea- fruit and sandwiches that we’d purchased in the little deli in calcium and magnesium every day, eat a banana daily, drink your copy of The Cyclists’ Yellow side home in Massachusetts. Mahone Bay. Later, after a swim in the bracing waters of Gatorade and lots of water. GENERAL INFORMATION: Call or write to Pages. If I’d known that a little more than 24 hours later, and the bay, we cycled on to Blue Rocks, the tiny fishing village I didn’t ride the following day — doctor’s orders — but Nova Scotia Information and Reser- not just because of the hills, I’d be in an ambulance on my where the movie “Dolores Clairbourne” was filmed. A kept our guide company in the support van instead. It was vations, P.O. Box 130, Halifax, Nova BED AND BREAKFAST INNS: We used the way to the local hospital in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, I breakwater of huge boulders protected the minute harbor rainy anyway, the route long and hilly, the road gravelly, Scotia B3J 2M7; 1-800-565-0000; e- following B&Bs: Boscawen Inn, 150 might have had second thoughts about climbing aboard that and its handful of boats from the wild wind blowing off the narrow and slippery. A good day to take time off. I was just mail: [email protected] Cumberland St., Lunenburg, NS, airplane. ocean, buffeting both us and the colorful fishing shacks on as glad to be in the van. For the rest of the trip, with the Canada B0J 2C0; 902-634-3325. Tat- Long known as a center of shipbuilding and seafarers, the slope behind us. Along the shore, the bluish gray rocks weather fine and cool, I took my calcium and magnesium TOUR OPERATORS: Our trip of seven tingstone Inn, 434 Main ST., the little town of Lunenburg on Nova Scotia’s south shore that gave the village its name were coated with golden algae tablets, ate my bananas, drank my Gatorade and lots of nights and six days was arranged by Wolfville, NS, Canada B0P 1X0; slides down hilly banks to the harbor. Bright red wooden that glowed like liquid fire in the rays of the setting sun. water, and rode 30-35 miles every day. I even managed to Vermont Bicycling Tours. The group 902-542-7696. Queen Anne Inn, 494 warehouses and shipyard workshops line the waterfront Led by Roch and Keeli, our two Canadian guides par make it up most of the hills. was almost evenly divided between Upper George St., Annapolis Royal, where the masts of large fishing schooners, including the excellence, we strolled down the hill that night to the Old Like many Americans, my knowledge of Canada was men and women, with ages ranging NS, Canada B0S 1A0; 902-532-7850. famous Bluenose II, bristle along the docks. Farther up Fish Factory Restaurant in the Fisheries Museum of the vague. I’d transited the Halifax airport once, on my way to the hill are elegant 18th and 19th century sea captains’ Atlantic, housed in a renovated and preserved former fish somewhere else; had heard of scenic, mountainous Cape homes, watched over by the Lunenburg Academy, the plant. The portraits of former sea captains lined the walls, Breton Island at Nova Scotia’s northeastern tip; and seen local elementary school. Floodlit at night, this pride and stalwart, sunburned, white-bearded men who in earlier times photographs of the famously picturesque Peggy’s Cove; but most populous and important village of the French settlers joy of the local community, in a gleaming coat of red had sailed their ships to the far-off ports of Africa, the Far the rest of the province was a blank. Lunenburg, with its in this part of Nova Scotia, I stood under the beautiful and white paint, its red towers reaching skyward, East and the Caribbean in search of trade. rich history of stained glass window in the Church of St. Charles and lis- shipbuilding perches like a Victorian castle at the top of the hill. I was feeling reasonably well, I thought — tired, after 57 tened to the guide’s story of the expulsion of the French Lunenberg, built After our arrival by van from the airport, my kilometers of riding, but somewhat refreshed after a shower and seafaring, families known as the Acadians. Caught in the constant its colonial and on a harbor, has a fellow cyclists and I settled down with cold and short rest. I’d tried to ignore the hot sun hammering on warfare between England and France to grab territory in the rich history of drinks on the deck of the Boscawen Inn, my helmet all afternoon, and the headache and slight nausea Victorian archi- New World (this part of Nova Scotia changed hands seven shipbuilding and a restored Victorian mansion that had plagued me, but during dinner, when I stood to tecture, its busy times in 150 years of war) the French settlers became hap- seafaring. overlooking the harbor, to stretch out a cramp in my leg, I suddenly felt peculiar. waterfront, less victims. soak up the late afternoon “I don’t feel very good,” is the last thing I remember filled in the first On a day in September, 1755, they were summoned to sun and the view of fish- saying to Marion before sitting back down and passing out. of the blanks. the church by the current English military commander and ing boats, water and I sank into a world of fuzzy blackness, penetrated by From there, we told that they must leave Nova Scotia. English ships took green hills on the dim voices whose words I could neither comprehend nor crossed Nova them away to New England, Louisiana, the West Indies, and far shore. answer. When the world swam back into view a few Scotia to elsewhere. In the confusion, families were separated, some Later, after moments later, I was in a small anteroom and an EMT was Wolfville, on never to find each other again.