What a day. First some background. Two days ago I had my first success. I biked over 100 kilometres in like 5 hours (bike people, which I am not, will scoff at how far that is and I could have gone further for sure but it was a barrier I needed to cross and I was proud). I got into La Have got the key to my aunts cottage and passed out in the tub. Bicycling, even far distances, doesn’t feel hard but at the end of the day you konk out. I was feeling like finally I was in the shape I needed to start making real ground. Nova Scotia was my mussel. Next day I biked into a Blue Rocks or High Rocks or something like that to pick up some spare inner tubes because I was going bike into this big remote National Park that was about 80 kilometers away but had only three towns on the way and in Nova Scotia a town can easily be and often is five houses. I didn’t want to get a busted inner tube and be fucked. Got the tubes camped out at Russel Provincial Park about 6k from La Have. Beautiful Night. Today. Today I got up pretty early and decided to put off the Park in favour of going back to my parents empty, which is rare, summer home to get in a couple solid days of chess. Same trip as two days ago minus 6k. No problem. I booted it to Liverpool, about 2/3 of the way, got there at like 11:45. Ate two turkey sandwiches and a donut and drank tonnes of water. It was hot all morning so I drank a whole bunch (I had two packets of oatmeal and a health bar for breakfast). At 12:15 a man says to me loudly “If my wife is keeping you up just tell me and I will get her to quiet down”. I think how that is kinda sexist then I realize I had passed out at Tim Hortons. This made me a little nervous so I drank more water and relaxed a bit. The Radio guy goes “If you can leave work early and go to beach today is the day. It’s 31 degrees out.” I get on my bike and go. After a bit I notice my arms and hands, which, with my face, I lotion about three times more then the rest of my body, are burned. I start getting nervous even though my body feels like it has plenty of energy and strength. I feel something is wrong. Im very hot. The headache I had in the morning is now a cap of pain attached to my head. My mind starts eating itself. I start telling myself something is wrong and then berating myself for being a pussy. I start having little hallucinations. A black streak. A person mowing there lawn that is really a well. A dog barks and I freak. Finally I say to my self “Jacob your young your full of food and water and everything is fine” Then I hear a horn blast and realize i've drifted to other side of the road. In the corner of my eye I see (I only saw the panniers, leg and shoe but I knew the rest was there) a biker who is in all black, with no skin showing. Like some sort of devil touring bicyclist. I get off the road. I go into some sort of seafood thing (It’s a bit of a blur now) and ask to use the rest room. The woman walks me there. I look at my face and its dark red. I touch it and it goes super white and then dark red. It dawns on me that I have really bad heat stroke. I splash tonnes of water on my face. My eyes are red and weird. Try and pee but I cant which strikes me as peculiar. I walk out and ask if I may sit for a moment, a little too much sun I explain. She doesn’t even look at me. I sit. Two guys start chatting with me. Wouldn’t want to be out in this sun. Do you have any water with you? It’s a little beyond water now I explain. I know Im not to far from a place called the Quarterdeck. Figure I will try out my legs. It takes for ever to get there and there is no shade anywhere along the way. I just need a piece of shade so I can pass out wake up and finish the ride. If I can get shade and sleep I will be back in order. I sit in tiny slice of shade of cast by the quarter deck sign for like 15 minutes when this short short woman, no more then 5 feet, walks in from the road with an old old red bicycle (during the conversation she tells me its 17 years old) and full packs. She must be late 50 early 60. We start chatting. This woman is a dream. She is all stout and friendly and looks you in eye and is self-effacing, which I am and love. She explains how to bike ride to me. How she putters along. Best time to ride is 4-9 in the evening. talks about how independence and constantly challenging your self is the only way to live. She talks to me for about 30 minutes and keeps smiling and putting love in me. Tells me about biking in Ireland and hitchhiking through Australia. About how she is on this trip to lose the weight she gained after the change. Her name was Shirley and she kept using my name while we spoke. I loved her. I wanted to ask her to come back with me to Port Joli but I couldn’t find the words. She says she must be going and I tell she is angel and then she smiles and says +Sometimes I Am+ and bikes off.
I still had 15-20 kilometres to go. With the angle in my mind I knew I could do it. I got more water at a gas station and headed out. Ten minutes later I was boiling again and now I was on a highway. I got worried and frantically looked for shade but there was none. I walked every hill and glided down the other side. After a bit more time cooking in the sun I tried to get off my bike and fell into a ditch. I layed there for a second and then realized what had happened and that I was still cooking in the sun. Then I noticed I had tick sucking my blood. You can’t flick a big tick off you have to pull it out of you. I pulled four off of me got up and pulled another two off once I was on my bike. I hobbled home walking and gliding the rest of the way, defeated.