Circling the U.S. Chapter 17: Chance Encounter in Bayfield, Ontario

Friday, July 5, 2019

We were putting our panniers on our bikes outside the Albion Hotel around nine o'clock when two guys on bikes passed by. One of them called out, "Where are you from?"

"New Hampshire."

They'd already passed by but circled back and stopped to talk. They both did a lot of riding and were interested in our story. I told them about my blog and gave them my business card; we introduced ourselves. Phil and Gilbert both grew up nearby and lived in Goderich, the small city 20 miles north. I judged them to be about our age. Phil asked, "Where are you going next?" "Kincardine," I said, stumbling over the pronunciation. Phil corrected me, giving the emphasis to the second syllable and the i in the last syllable a short vowel sound. "Do you have a place to stay?" he asked. "Sort of," I said. We had a Warm Showers place lined up, but it was basically a place to set up our tent and we were on our own for dinner and breakfast. It wouldn’t be a big deal to cancel if something better came along. "Why do you ask?" "My sister lives there. She and her husband love having company." "Will we be able to sleep in a bed?" I asked. "Yes." "Will she cook us dinner?" "Yes." I looked at Rob. He said, "Sounds good to me."

I said, "Then we'd love that." Phil pulled out his phone and made the call. He said, “She can do it but is going to a Scottish festival tonight at seven.”

I said, "We both play in a Scottish orchestra. Maybe we can join them." Phil gave us his sister's address and phone number and gave her my phone number. He described her house as brick with a new metal roof and other details which we promptly forgot. He told us it was on Boiler Beach Road, on the way to Kincardine. Phil and Gilbert decided to cut their ride short to escort us as far as Goderich. They wanted to make sure we got back on the Great Lakes Shoreline Trail, much prettier and safer than the highway we'd taken to Bayfield. The road was flat and well-paved with minimal traffic, allowing us to talk while riding side-by-side. Phil hung back with Rob and shared some of his family’s history while I rode ahead with Gilbert. I learned that the road once was lined with orchards, hence the name, Orchard Line. Now it is mostly farms. Gilbert grew up on a hog farm on the same road and bought it from his parents. He sold it not too many years ago, moved to Goderich, and now creates large sculptures. I learned a bit about hogs and some of the state-of-the-art feeding systems that Gilbert and his father used. He pointed out the boundaries to his farm as we rode by, and the place where his mother lives, where he stores his sculptures.

Before leaving Bayfield Gilbert and Phil took us past this unique house. It was then that I realized I hadn't taken any picture of the town or our hotel. But it was too late to turn back. Later that day I realized I still had our room key in my jersey pocket. I guess I was distracted by meeting such gracious cyclists. 

Phil left us on the outskirts of Goderich and Gilbert took us through the downtown, more of a small city than a town. He took us past the salt mine just off shore in Lake Huron. Then we were on our own to find our way to Phil’s sister.

We stopped for lunch at a park overlooking the mine. I said, "We made the right choice staying in Bayfield." Rob agreed. Goderich didn't have the quaint and quiet feel to it that Bayfield had.

The Goderich salt mine is the largest underground salt mine in the world.

It was one of the few very hot days we’d had. Hot temperatures have usually been mitigated by the cool air coming off the lake, but the next 20 miles took us inland on a highway with no shade. When we arrived at an intersection that would take us back to the shoreline, we stopped at Phil's suggestion, at a convenience store, the only place to take a break before our destination. Needing to cool off, we appreciated the tables and a chance to drink smoothies from the sandwich shop inside. I checked my phone and saw a long message from Phil’s sister, Jan. “. . . I understand you are cycling to Kincardine today and need a place to stay. My husbnd Rob and I welcome you to stay with us . . . Looking forward to meeting you.”

We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.