Il y a du vent 💨

I knew they were coming and these prairie winds don't disappoint.

I've mentioned before how much attention the touring bike/biker gets - it's almost surreal and I'm questioned at least 5 times a day as to where I'm going, when I started, etc. It's hard not to like it. It plucks those vanity strings tunefully making me feel special, and after 4/5 hours alone in the saddle it's actually really pleasant to talk to random people (never thought I'd say that).

Having said that, such chats usually include me being told in a near-patronising tone that I'll be going against the predominant wind, and then they'd smile and cock their heads in a way I can only read as tutting 'you foolish boy'. I don't suppose it would irk me half as much if they weren't invariably overweight flabbsters whose ample behinds would have hungrily swallowed a bike seat had they tried to sit on one.

I'd politely acquiesce with a 'what am I like' eyeroll, however, they were right - the winds are mentally and physical draining. The concept of free-wheeling has vanished. Even downhills require peddle power... not that there are many hills here in Flatsville.

At least the winds won't last for ever. I just have to get to the foothills of the Rockys....

...1000 miles away.

...

My mood lightened when I popped into CoOp for some food stocks and approached the shelf stacker. I'm learning not to say "Do you have a toilet?" because this can confuse Canadians... once one even replied "Yes, we do" and turned away looking puzzled. So this time I used the correct terminology: "Excuse me, do you have a restroom?" The startled lad turned to me with fear in his eyes as he searched for the right response. "I'm sorry" he started with wide panicking eyes. "I don't speak French" he continued, before adding "NON FRANCAIS" in a loud voice with frantic neck-cutting motions.

I really must work on my Canadian accent.Read more