Saskatchewan

A Quebecois couple turned up late last night at the campsite and I rambled through my lunchtime panic, explained my paranoia, and asked them (since they were sleeping in their van) to honk vociferously to alert me if they saw anything suspicious. They'd nodded a solemn acceptance of this duty, and my fears were slightly allayed before bed.

...

The morning finally came and both Perry and I had survived the night...although, as expected, it wasn't the most restful; waking up at every twig-snapping critter that ambled through my campsite.

Either I win a free self diagnosis of Paranoid Personality Disorder, or Redneck Rick didn't think us a worthy enough swag.

...

I cautiously peddled on, dreading checking whether the CrazyGlue was holding or whether I was one more pothole's bump away from a totally split tyre and probable damaged rim. But it held - All praise The Bicycle Gods! Regina was in sight and I raced to each bike shop in search of a replacement.

None of the bike shops in the city had similar tyres and considering I still have thousands of miles to go, a bike whose weight wasn't getting any lighter, and terrain which was going to get tougher, I really didn't want to settle for anything less. I bought a substandard emergency replacement and got some contact details for bike shops in the next city, Saskatoon. I couldn't bear sitting around here for 3+ days killing time, so planned to contact them in advance and get replacements ordered and delivered in time for my arrival in a few days.

Plus, Regina is a bit of a dump. Sorry Saskatchewan, I know it's your provincial capital city, but eugh - even Redneck Rick said it was dodgy, I might get knifed, and that I should just cycle on through without stopping.

Regardless, I had to pick some spare parts waiting for me at a Canada Post. The cages on the store's outside windows and the internal counter gave a distinct "this area is dodgy as..." vibe, and I asked a guy in the queue whether my fully loaded bike locked outside was safe. He looked concerned before describing the area as 'sketchy' and I wondered whether they'd be anything left of my bike by the time I got served....he very kindly said he'd go watch my bike.

An age later, I'd been served and had had a lovely conversation with my improvised security guard, Gareth. He was a sporty guy, more into marathons than cycling, but he'd also recently been to Manchester and had Welsh heritage, did video journalism (involving having interviewed Prince Edward nonetheless), so it was a interesting chat and he helped me out with finding a motel and restaurant in the 'right' part of town, and then left me his business card in case I got stuck.

It sounds twee but it's those little trivial moments, when people help you through problems that really make everything well again.

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Brace yourself Saskatoon... I'm coming to get you! Czytaj więcej