As summer turns to fall in Southern Ontario, I once again prepare for my annual bikepacking trip with three good friends. It reminds me of a trip we did a couple of years ago along a route called the Cannonball 300. The route takes its name from a short-lived bicycle manufacturer from the late 1800s in Thorold, Ontario, Canada.
The morning started early. My friend Zed, his friend Darren (who had driven up from Missouri), and I headed out along a rain-soaked rail trail to meet Rory, the final member of our group.
We began with an easy pedal from the city of Brantford to the little lakeside town of Port Dover—home of the famous “Friday the 13th” motorcycle gathering that happens every Friday the 13th.
After enjoying the classic Port Dover meal of perch and French fries, we rode out of town and followed the rural roads hugging the Lake Erie shoreline. We passed quaint cottages and long stretches of farmland before stopping at our first campsite, just before dusk and 160 km from home. We celebrated our long peddle with a dehydrated meal and a warm beer, looking out over the waves and watching the sunset.
The next morning, we woke to find our tents drenched in heavy dew. No matter how waterproof, they were left sopping wet. We hoped the following night’s campsite would be breezy enough to dry them. The early part of the day took us along a trail more suited to quads or other off-road vehicles. The craters that we encountered held most of the past days rain and the fear of laying out our fully loaded bikes was ever present.
Thankfully, we eventually reached a rail trail that that spanned most of the distance to the next town. Port Colborne is a picturesque town that sits along the Welland Canal, where huge cargo ships travel between Lake Erie and Lake Ontario. To say that the ships were “big” would be an understatement. We were but ants against the backdrop of these behemoths.
Later that afternoon, we pulled into a plaza near our campsite for a quick lunch and to stretch our legs. The sky was looking progressively darker and the gathering storm became a forgone conclusion. I hadn’t packed a single rain gear item and when the downpour came I was forced to take shelter in a shopping cart coral.
After an hour of steady rain there was a break in the clouds that allowed us to quickly mount up and peddle the last few kilometres to our destination. We arrived at the Trailer Park that would be our home for the evening and after one last deluge we set up our tents. We spent the rest of the evening warming ourselves around the fire and reliving the past days ride.
Our final day we rode back towards home across the longest boardwalk that I have ever seen and passed a plot of land that had dozens of massive satellite dishes strewn across the property. Everything about this trip was super sized!
We arrived home in the early afternoon, totally gassed but with the satisfaction of having biked 400km in three days. Good friends, lots of laughs and beautiful sights makes these annual trips so special.
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