“I predicted I’d be in Port Bruce by 3:30, in the lake by 4:30. First prediction (came) true.”
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CHAPTER FOUR - Cold nose, cold beer, good sleepin’
According to an old Elgin County Atlas (1876), Port Bruce was “A Romantic Village at the mouth of Catfish Creek, on the north shore of Lake Erie, township of Malahide, county of Elgin. It is a port of entry.”
I didn’t arrive at my destination under a sweetly-romantic moon-lit sky with a mouth watering for fried catfish. Rather, I entered the port by way of a steep downhill ride at about 30 miles per hour. Only my bicycle’s sturdy hand brakes kept me from racing through a stop sign and landing in the tepid waters of Catfish Creek on my way to a waiting campsite at J.R.’s Beach trailer park.
After pitching my tent and organizing my gear I found the main office and knocked on the door before entering. Once inside I was greeted by a bearded man I’d seen earlier travelling around the trailer park on a golf cart, and as I opened my wallet for my debit card I was also greeted - coldly, very coldly as I recall - by a shaggy black dog that had his wet and unwelcome nose up and inside my baggy swim shorts before the count of “one, two, thr-eeeeoo!”
[Except for the dog’s cold nose, money well spent.]
Transaction completed, I walked to the nearby beach, unfolded my chair in the shade of a small tree, placed valuables inside a thick towel and gazed at the welcoming waters of Lake Erie. Upon seeing shallow waves and feeling a lovely breeze upon my sweaty back I sorted various worthwhile goals into their order of importance:
-go jump in the lake
-wash off a thick layer of dust
-bob up and down like a kid for awhile
-sit down in the shade
-enjoy a cold beer
-read and write
Beyond a doubt I took great pleasure in jumping, washing and bobbing in Lake Erie for 10 - 15 minutes. My body temperature dropped from ‘sweatin’ like a pig’ to ‘feelin’ human again’ and once back on dry land, and after looking carefully in all directions several times, I savoured one fine, cold bottle of beer.
My “brilliant notes” reveal my pleasure: “WATER FELT GREAT!! WATER FELT GREAT!! dust from the journey (about 60 km.) washed off nicely and I opened beer on almost deserted beach. BEER TASTED GREAT!! BEER TASTED GREAT!!”
By now, some readers will realize it doesn’t take much to amuse me. Besides the cool water and cold beer, I took great pleasure in receiving my own key to the bathroom and shower house. “Cool! Life in Port Bruce comes w perks,” I later wrote. In such a positive mood, I’m not surprised that, after calling my wife from the end of the pier (the one spot where cellphone service was usually available) to say I’d arrived safely, I bought myself supper instead of cooking it up myself back at the campsite.
Honestly. Here were the choices:
King Burger at the Sand Kastle vs canned spaghetti and meatballs at my picnic table.
$5 price tag vs $1.09.
Burger, cheese, peameal bacon vs canned pasta and mystery meat.
Marvelous vs mysterious.
Easy decision, right? It took me less than 5 seconds to readjust my plans for supper. (I think the long bike ride had a part to play in tilting the scales heavily in favour of the easy kap-easy route and letting somebody else cook on my first night of camping near the peaceful shores of Lake Erie. Of course, I do have a lazy streak).
And once I entered my tent for the night, though a few thoughts about future trips entered my mind (e.g., “Cycling w too much weight is hard work. I may have to think about a B&B scenario or... a cheap, dark motel!!”), they didn’t linger long. I slept like the proverbial rock.
Please join me here for future chapters of Discovering the World in One Pair of Pants and more photos from along the way.
[Photos by G.Harrison]
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Please click here to read CHAPTER THREE
Please click here to view Photos from along the way
Please click here to view a song about A Cheap Dark Motel
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