Day 92: THE FINISH to Cape Spear




Our rally time at noon in Cape Spear allowed us to sleep in an extra hour, as the ride from St. John's is only 17 kms. The poor weatherman predicted heavy rain but it was warm and sunny. He kept his job. Our Campaign Manager, Carol, had been here for a couple of days and had scouted the route the day before, coming back with reports of long, steep climbs right up to the Cape. For this reason we kept breakfast light and Gin, myself, Darrell and Sue Rea and Colleen Ross were all pumped up and ready to go by 10 AM.

The climbing started right away and soon after we lost Darrell due to a broken gear on my Giant. Grades ranged from 3% to 12% which doesn't sound like much until you're on a bike. 13% is like straight up folks. The longest stretch was about 4 kms, so go figure, if you climb at 8 km/hr. that stretch alone will take you half an hour. One hill on the route was 500 meters at about 12% and after climbing for 4 kms. to get up on your pedals and pump to the top demands all you have in the tank. Hey, what the hell, the last day was supposed to be a push over…NOT!

Grinding and grunting we were rewarded by some nice downhill sweeps and beautiful vistas when you allowed yourself to turn your head. Checking our odometers, we knew we were close and nothing could stop us now. A cab rolled by it's contents: John and Mo Richmond from Whistler. They cheered us on and after 2 or 3 more turnpikes we could make out the lighthouse at Cape Spear. As we rolled in a small group welcomed us with applause, banners and an official finish line. WE MADE IT. Over 8,000 kms in the bank. After hugs all round we walked down to the peninsula, the most easterly point in our vast country and marvelled at the blue ocean, seabirds and wind swept cliffs. The feeling that we had ridden from sea to sea was exhilarating. A group of supporters gathered around the Starship and once again we told our story after greetings by the ED of CMHA and city counsellor Sheleagh O'Leary.

Two more things we wanted to do next were to visit the Terry Fox starting point in St. John's where he dipped his toe into the Atlantic to start his courageous journey and dip our our toes into the water to signify our journey's end. That completed we showered up and if you have been following my blogs folks you can guess what came next, right? Georges St. is only a block or two from our hotel, but its a short compact party block of pure bars, eateries, live music and general tomfoolery. Akin to drinking the sourdough cocktail and kissing the real decaying miner's toe in the bottom of the glass, in the Yukon, we had to be Screeched In, in Newfoundland. This involves recording your name, paying a fee, n return for…well come out here and find out for yourselves...Ha. We bar hopped and danced well into the night, toe tappin' to the lilt of the Irish gigs, celebrating our achievements along with Darrell's 60th. A tough, rewarding day it was for all. Tomorrow we sleep as hard as we can and see the sights.