I woke up and it was raining. At least I had the indoor area to get ready and have breakfast in. I left Grand Falls, and started following the signs for the NB Trail until I realized the NB Trail is shit, it’s meant for mountain bikes and is not suitable for road bikes, and with the rain it made the gravel pathways like 10 time worse. There was a highway running almost along the exact same route as the NB Trail, so I started to follow that. But then that road was closed, and so was the trail that ran parallel. But at least this time, there were directions for a detour. This detour was straight up a hill to another hilly highway before heading back down.
I got back on the road that runs parallel to the Trail, but after awhile, the road cut up (with a pretty steep incline), while the trail went straight and seemed to stay flat. I checked goodglemaps, and it seemed as though the country highway just jut out and then back in, whereas the NB Trail was more direct. So I decided to get back on the NB Trail just for a bit, until the highway came back down and reconnected with it. This was a terrible decision. When I was about halfway through the path, I came across a fallen tree that was blocking the pathway. So this was my 5th blocked routeway in 3 days. It looked like someone had made a bit of an alternate route to get around the tree, going down the ledge that the path was on and then back up. So I followed this detour down, but when it was time to get back up, it was so high, I had no idea how I was going to lift my bike back up onto the path. Especially with all the rain, the whole path had turned to mud, so there was nowhere to dig my feet in to get a grip. I took off my panniers, and one by one managed to climb back up with them and set them on the path. I went back down to the path, and somehow, I clambered back up this steep mudslide with my bike.
Once I loaded up my bike again, it wasn’t far until I got back to the highway. At this point I decided I was not going back onto the NB Trail at all, and that a few detours or big climbs were much preferable than dealing with gravelly pathways with trees blocking them. So I carried on. But then the road I was on curved up, and when I checked my phone, it showed it wasn’t going to come back in this direction again. My only option was to take the damn NB Trail until I connected with the next highway. So I took this terrible pathway which was littered with pebbles and other debris. Finally I can see I’m coming out of this forest pathway with a bridge up ahead, and I’ll be able to reconnect with the highway. But just as I leave the pathway and get onto the bridge, I feel my tire deflate. My third flat tire in 3 days. Good thing I bought that extra tube in Edmundston, I thought. At least I was on a bridge at this point, so although I had to be extra careful about where I put my tools, it was much cleaner than the forest pathway, so less crap could get into the tires or onto the rims.
From here, I carried on (not on the trail) from forgettable small town to forgettable small town. I thought Perth-Andover would be a small city. It’s 2 tiny towns that had to amalgamate because neither was big enough to exist on its own. I stopped at a general store just outside the town, and the woman who worked there was really nice and friendly. But when I asked her where I could get a cup of coffee in town she said my only 2 options were Tim Hortons or the gas station.
Then I got to Bath; it’s the third Bath that I’ve been to in 3 months, and I’d rank it number 3 on that list. They had benches facing the water, which would be nice, if they weren’t positioned in places where trees were blocking the view. They also had one of the benches turned away from the water, so people could watch the highway and the local Lions Rotary Club I guess. And the bench was bolted down like that.
Next was Florenceville, I think that’s where the McCain food company is from, as everything in the town is named after the McCains, and there’s a big factory on the outskirts of town. This town was trying to market itself as the “French Fry Capital of the World.” Which is a pretty bold claim, especially when you’re sandwiched between a province known for their potatoes and a province known for their poutine.
Next was Bristol. The UK did it better.
Finally I got to Hartland, which is famous for its covered bridge. I took the bridge across the Saint John just before the covered bridge to get to the golf course/campground I was staying at. This golf course was huge, and I had to bike all the way around it and then down this steep valley and back up the other side on an unpaved road to get there. When I finally arrived, I was so exhausted—once I sat down, it was really hard to will myself to get up to go shower. But after I did, I was so happy to have that leftover chilli.
One nice thing about NB is they have these tall pink and purple flowers everywhere in the wild. So I found one thing I like about this province.
Total distance: 104 km
Total elevation: 596 m
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