L’Anse au Clair’s Northern Lights Inn is conveniently located across the road from a Robin’s coffee shop; the perfect place to grab breakfast and hang out while we waited for the drizzle to clear off. Upon leaving the Inn, we noticed four more motorcycles in the parking lot, and judging from their state of relative cleanliness we deduced that they didn’t come from the northerly direction – they must’ve taken the last ferry from St. Barbe the previous evening. With Michigan plates was some breed of BMW GS and a Honda ST1300, and from West Virginia an older Honda Shadow plastered with stickers from all over North America…and a Harley Sportster 1200 with tires about two-thirds worn out. As we trotted over to Robin’s, I was picturing guy riding the Sportster. Some young American hipster no doubt…not much of a clue about bikes…bought this Sportster and thinks he can conquer the TLH on it. Boy was I wrong. On our return to the Inn we met the owners of these bikes. Read the rest of this entry
Labrador. The Big Land. North America’s Last Frontier. The idea of traversing the Trans Labrador Highway had loomed in the back of my mind since I bought my VStrom 650 four years ago. When Mark joined the league of “Stromtroopers” this spring we decided that we would finally take a trip off the Rock via two wheels –a first for both of us. It seemed like the right time to embark on a Labrador Adventure. Plus, at only $18 each for the ferry crossing from St. Barbe to Blanc Sablon, it made good economic sense! Read the rest of this entry
Port Dover, Ontario holds a motorcycle rally each Friday the 13th. Though I’ve never been there, it’s become sort of a tradition with me to go for a ride on these occasions as long as the weather is somewhat civilized.
This past Friday the temperature got to a balmy 5 degrees C (41 F) with overcast skies and a brisk wind off the water…nothing that merino wool and an electric vest couldn’t handle. We bundled up, grabbed a couple of take-out subs and headed for a nearby trail.
I immediately noticed the difference in soil consistency. A few cold nights had made the mud super slick and clumpy, filling the tire treads and flicking up on the fenders, engine and seat. I had to ride even slower than I normally would, and be really careful on off-camber sections of trail.