4 July

It’s impossible to read the skies here; it always looks like rain in the morning. It was overcast again and a cool 60 degrees for the second day in a row, that makes for great riding. Heading to Elliston, the root cellar capital of the world, found me riding a road that was pot hole free but had moguls! I can’t count how many times I was launched off my seat; it was as if I was trying to break the bike as one would break a wild horse. It was so foggy you couldn’t see these dang things coming. The fog continued to get thicker and thicker and the temp dipped to 55. At one point the yellow line disappeared because the road was repaved and the color of the new road was the same as the fog all around me and I couldn’t tell where the road started and ended, it was one big gray world and it almost felt as though I was airborne. Thankfully it only lasted a few seconds but that was plenty long enough to give a mighty yank on the old pucker string. So between the fog, the moguls, the dipping temperature and watching out for Bullwinkle, it made for an entertaining 80-90 KM. Further down the road I came upon a construction site and thought I was back home, six guys standing around one shovel. The weather started to clear and it began to warm up some. Pulling over for gas a couple of locals on a Honda come over and we chatted for a while. We ended up talking about the ferry and they said with the Tuesday ferry cancel cuz of mx problems all the trucks were backed up and getting on board would be a challenge, not what I wanted to hear. Thankfully Ruth made some calls for me and they guaranteed my reservation and room, we’ll see. Back on the road again and straight into more fog; I was told in Newfoundland you can experience all four seasons in one day, I’m starting to believe it. Finally made it to Harbour Grace; another small fishing community. There are two old churches here, the Immaculate Conception which was built in 1889 and St Paul’s, the oldest stone church in Newfoundland. After lunch here it was on to St John’s. Nearing St John’s it became apparent the small town, country road riding was over. Riding through St John’s is like riding through any major city, ain’t no fun no mo. Riding through town based on how I remember the map because Garmin once again is doing nothing for me (I’m going to Gronkowski this thing before the trip is over) brought me to the end of Water St where I had to bang a hard left straight up a hill, and I mean straight up, and on the top of the hill I see a yield sign…nope, ain’t happening. I ride through and see traffic coming from three directions so I keep hard right and fortunately that’s exactly where I needed to go. I will avoid this intersection the whole time I’m here. After checking in I decided to go to Signal Hill which was the reception point of the first transatlantic wireless signal by Guglielmo Marconi in 1901, as well as the site of harbour defenses for St. John's from the 18th century to the Second World War. This place is huge and like the Cape Bonavista Lighthouse it requires 6 gazillion miles of walking and all I have are my boots and I’m getting tired of hiking…ugh! Signal Hill is quite impressive even with its miles of hiking. Heading back I passed a place that claimed the best streak in town for $20.00 so I stopped in. the steak was real good the server…well let’s just say the beat goes on, they don’t understand the concept of serving.