We approached the falls coming over the Niagara Dam. It looked so beautiful from a distance. As you came round the corner you could see a massive spray of water that rose above the cliffs. We continued on into town, dumped the bikes, and went to see the falls face to face. Impressive as they are they didn't quite match the first sight I had. We hung around for a while and then decided we were still keen to get on. We left heading for a place called Guelph which is near Toronto. Dave's friend Cheryl lives there somewhere, all we have to do is follow the directions.
The trip up the freeway was a bit more hazardous than normal; the average speed was well over 70 compared to the easy going traffic in America and the freeway was badly potholed. We found Cheryl's easy enough and spent the evening in relaxing. Apparently I spent a whole 2 hours in the bathroom. If I did, and I'm not saying that it's true, but if I did it must have been because I spent so long picking the bandages of my arm. They had become part of me over the last couple of days, entwined with all the scabs and dried blood so taking them off was not going to be easy. I did it real slowly, a millimeter at a time, till finally they were off. I came out after a shower to find myself being ridiculed about the length of time I spent in there. What do they know about pain and suffering?
Wednesday 17th
We stayed in Guelph for the day. We had planned to head out to a gorge but Harry slept in and I wrote some letters and postcards. Dave and Cheryl went to the gorge themselves for the afternoon. Harry and I put some work into our bikes, for me that meant patching up some holes in my exhaust with some putty. An easy day really.
We had a barbecue in the evening when Dave and Cheryl got back. I never had a barbecue in Scotland so I'm starting to get used to this too much. I'll miss them when I get home. Cheryl invited some of her friends over so we had a full table. It was a good night with all the usual chat plus of course pissing people right off with talk of our tour of the States. People just hate it when they realize that they have to get up in the morning to go to work while we'll be heading off into the rising sun with not a care in the world.
Thursday 18th
We decided to head to Algonquin Park. Harry wanted to listen to the wolves howling at midnight as they stood on a rock pinnacle with the full moon shining behind them. We thought that was as good an idea as any so we headed North bypassing Toronto. Once we got off the freeway the scenery got better, with the usual green stuff of hills, trees etc. When we got into the park we found it crammed full with RVs with children and old grannies running around. We left. We shot back out of the park and found a place to camp as quickly as possible since it was getting dark. We found out, and I can't remember where from, that the park ran some tours to see the wolves. All the cars and trucks and RVs would leave in a convoy following a park ranger to a suitable spot, where the ranger would then play some wolf tape over loudspeakers. This in theory encouraged real wolves to howl back. I don't think that anyone actually got to see any wolves. It all sounded too commercial and just basically crap leaving Harry disappointed. 
We went up a dirt track and found a clearing that looked suitable. We circled the bikes into a sort of U shape, pitched the tents a bit further away where it was grassy and softer, and then built a fire near the bikes. All this time we were getting bit to death by thousands of mosquitoes. There was a stagnant pool nearby which seemed to be home to more wildlife than I cared to see. But once it was really dark and the fire was going strong they disappeared. We sat on our panniers, backs resting against the bikes, facing into the fire, chatting and making plans. Everything else was completely black outside of the fire. Harry would occasionally jump up and disappear into the woods when the fire was getting low. All you could hear was Harry stomping around attacking defenseless trees with his bare hands. He once came back with a whole tree, dragging it behind him, so we all pitched in, breaking it up and piling it on the fire. Great, but simple, fun.
Friday 19th
I got up wanting a shower but surprise, surprise there wasn't one in sight. We broke camp heading for Lake Huron. We got as far as Massey and found a campsite. The highlight of the evening was that I got the shower I wanted. We hit town in the one and only bar and met up with a biker Dave and Harry had met earlier. His recall of his past drug habits wasn't really cutting it and he was the most exciting thing in the bar. So we left, went back to the tents, and talked and drank among ourselves instead.
Saturday 20th
Left Massey with no regrets. We traveled along Lake Huron towards Sault Ste.Marie but bypassed it and headed north along Lake Superior. It was that turn north that we suddenly found ourselves in the most amazing scenery. Apart from the vast ocean of a lake to the left of us there were rolling hills of deep forest to the right and ahead of us. Maybe it was just the change but it felt good all the same. If it wasn't for the road it would have been perfect. Most of the road for miles was in the middle of being upgraded so all we had was a huge dirt road to travel on.
It was no problem until a lorry passed you. They managed to kick up a really huge dust storm which cut the visibility way down and left you choking.
Driving along this road beside Lake Superior Dave noticed a small beach. We saw a side road and took it, which turned out to be nothing more than a construction yard for the road. The road was more dirt and sand so the ride was kind of hard with all the weight we had on the bikes. Near the end of the road we had to go down a steep hill. We thought about this for a while. Going down might not be too hard but getting back up again could turn out to be impossible. In the end we went ahead and went down anyway. Getting back up would be tomorrow's problem.
We hid the bikes in the trees and hiked about half a mile through dense forest looking for the beach. When we found it the beach turned out to have no sand, just large stones. After exploring we found a Robinson Crusoe type campsite made by locals I guess. It had a campfire with all the attachments for cooking and a bar where you could serve food and drinks, all made from wood. We pitched the tents right there. The whole evening was so relaxing, no worries, no debts, no job to go to in the morning, just a beautiful lake that looked more like an ocean and a few dozen mosquitoes to keep us company.
Sunday 21st
We got up early and broke camp quickly. As always, even though we're in a place that's stunningly beautiful and we've got all the time in the world, we wanted to get on and see what's round the next corner. As it was we were lucky to get back up that hill never mind corners. With all the luggage carried up the hill we pushed each bike up one at a time. One person on the bike, revving gently, while the other two pushed as hard as they could, we managed eventually to get all three bikes up the hill. With that done we joined the road again and headed north to Wawa.
We stopped at a cafe on the way up and Harry fell in love with the waitress. He was really getting into the patter when we had to leave. He was heartbroken but all good things must come to an end. (Sorry Harry, but I had to tell this bit of the story). It was so sad. Anyway, we went on past Wawa and hit White River. White River wasn't good. Nothing much was happening there, it was Sunday and it was a small town, and then Harry went and got a flat tire. This downgraded White River to bad. His tube repair, however, was nothing short of miraculous. I can't remember what he did but it worked and with that lucky break we took our chance and left White River late in the evening. We decided to head for Thunder Bay by riding through the night. Yep, White River was that bad!
Monday 22nd
The road to Thunder Bay unfortunately had a lot of roadworks in progress where they rip up the road in 10 mile stretches and then just leave it like that. Most of the roadwork was just loose shingle so we were forced to go slow. We ended up getting to Thunder Bay at six in the morning and by Christ were we tired. We found a camp site, pitched the tents and crashed.
We crawled out of our sleeping bags, feeling none too good, and met another biker called Fred from Kentucky. We all chatted for a while before heading into town to get my bike patched up. For $10 I got my frame welded back together. Part of the bike frame was taking the strain of holding all the panniers since the pannier frame got smashed up back in New Paltz, New York and the temporary frame we put in it's place was OK but not strong enough.
Dave, Fred and I went out to a pub that night that was recommended. It turned out to be a microbrewery and best of all, Fred insisted on paying for all of it. So we tucked in to pitchers of beer and baskets of chicken wings. This habit of sponging of Americans is too easy but if I'm going to last for six months then I'm going to have to do a lot more of it.