El Niño

El Niño, in case you don’t know, is a band of warm ocean water that develops in the central and east-central equatorial Pacific in a cyclical pattern that effects weather patterns all over the world. In South Africa where I grew up, El Niño meant drought and very hot summers, it still does, and this year is one of the driest and hottest on record, I can believe it, I felt it when I was visiting a few weeks ago. I believe that here in Canada the strong El Niño contributed to the wet fall and so far mild winter, and to a small, but gratefully received Christmas present for me. Yup, you guessed it, I’m spending my Christmas afternoon riding the KLR instead of sleeping off too much turkey. Thank you Jesus…in case you also didn’t know the term El Niño refers to the Christ Child.

Since the Muskoka trip I have indeed not managed to do any longish rides, but finished off the season with a few pleasant local rides… a loop through Terra Nova, few times to Port Perry via Uxbridge, once around Lake Simcoe, a few times to Musselman’s Lake near Stouffville and a loop or two through Zephyr and Udora. All together I guess I have managed about 14,000 Km this season, about half on the late and lamented Boulevard and half on the KLR. The accident in the middle of the season sort of put a kybosh on my plans to do a cross continent ride, so maybe that’s on the cards for next year, we shall see how things turnout.

Near to Terra Nova - one of the last rides in the fall. 

Anyway, just before leaving for South Africa for the brief visit, I decided to winterize the bikes in the reasonable expectation of icy cold weather laced with snow and the occasional ice rain storm.  Previously Helena and I had stored our bikes at Barrie Harley Davidson, but this year we decided on a DIY job and save us the $600. There is more to the decision than a bit of Scots canniness, it goes with my decision to take personal control over at least the basics of the maintenance. A few moments with Google and I knew what the procedure was, and a trip up to Royal Distributors to buy a few bits and bobs and I was ready. I gave the KLR a full service, including oil change, new oil filter, spark change and doohickey reset and Helena’s Harley got a similar treatment. Filled up gas and added fuel stabilizer, cleaned both bikes, oiled the KLR chain, wiped all exposed metal parts with a clean oily rag, hooked up drip charges to the batteries and put dust covers over the bikes. To keep them warm I put the bikes on rubber mats and switched on the cheap electric oil radiator, I’d purchased from Walmart, to a low heat setting.

Winterized bikes, the camo motif is a bit much, but if I ever need to hide away in a forest... 

I felt ready for the cold that quite frankly hasn’t yet descended. Sure we have had a few days of sub-zero temperature, Fairy Lake (the little artificial lake that is the center piece of the park close to my home) has achieved a skin of ice for the odd few days and there has been a dusting of snow a couple of times, but honestly there has been nothing to write home about. Even the Canada geese are still hanging around, they really should have deserted us by now. Not that I am complaining, the Canadian winter is not the prime reason I live here, but it is odd that it has so far been largely absent, worrying a bit actually. I know that this is an El Niño effect, but I am sure that the effect is magnified by the worsening global climate change. Last week I saw a video of a lake that slid over a cliff, I kid you not, the lake slid down a hill and disintegrated over a cliff, this was somewhere in northern Canada where the permafrost has recently become a little less permanent and so trees topple over and lakes fall over cliffs.  I don’t need any more convincing that our species is driving the mother of all extinction events on this planet, and our species won’t survive that. I don’t think that we should abandon efforts to prevent the cataclysm, but I harbor a strong doubt that we can stop it. Our problem is that there are just too many people and too much greed and I am as bad as the next guy. I have begun to think that this planet will be so much better off when the last human has breathed its last breath.

That all said, it’s Christmas day and it’s 8 degrees centigrade and almost wind still, so I have pulled the cover off the KLR, unhooked the battery charger, double socked, put on the Kevlar jeans, mesh jacket scarf, bright green wind resistant rain gear, boots and so on.  The sausage dogs look at me in wonder and doubt, nothing would lodge them from the sensible thing they are doing ‘ballasbak’ in front of the fire. ‘Ballasbak’ means baking your balls, or taking it easy, not that they actually have balls after a visit to the vet a few years back.  

Ballasbak

Merry bloody Christmas and off I go. I head west into the watery sun, it’s barely past midday, but the sun is low in the sky and all the shadows it casts are long and have an eeriness to them. The village of Kettleby is as quiet as a church on Tuesday morning, in front of some of the houses there are groups of cars parked, I guess that ham and turkey feasting is going on inside, but outside nothing stirs, just me riding through. Pottageville is the same and Schomberg, if possible is even quieter, its many restaurants are all closed – weird I would have thought that there is at least some demand to be fed commercially rather than bother with all that cooking. My family have given up on all that, too much effort, which is why I’m able to be where I am instead of stuffing my face with the obligatory festive fare, yay freedom.

From Schomberg I go north, following dirt roads in the general direction of Cookstown. I am contemplating going through the forest area around Terra Nova, but I notice that the temperature is dropping quite noticeably the further north I go. Just past Cookstown I chicken out and decide to go south again, I aim for Beeton via dirt roads. Beeton is a repeat of all the other villages, dead as a doornail, I turn west again, Loretto then Hockley Village. Now that I’m on a well-travelled motorcycle route it is evident that I’m not the only dude taking advantage of the day, not nearly as many bikes out on this road as you will see in summer, but a lot more than I would have thought for a winter day, we do the wave rather more enthusiastically than normal, it’s a ‘what the fuck we are actually riding today’ sort of wave.

Green Christmas 

Long eerie shadows, just past noon 

This, as I have said before, is a terrific road to ride and the watery sunlight, relative cold and general bleakness of the scenery takes nothing from the pleasure of carving through those bends. By the time I get to Orangeville it is almost 4.p.m and the sun is seriously low, shining right into my eyes, and the temperature is falling fast. I have started to lose feeling in my fingers and toes, toes isn’t an issue, but I’m worried about the fingers, I still need to use them to get home, the case for heated grips or gloves is made abundantly clear. I turn around and head home the way I came, weaving through Hockley Valley Road, now with the setting sun at my back. At Highway 10, Airport Road, I decide to go south to Highway 9 to get home quicker, but end up unable to resist a small detour along Coolihans Side Road, if ever I manage to buy that small holding this is where I would like to buy. Back on Highway 9 I ride like the demons of hell are just behind me, which in a sense they actually are, assholes in large pick-up trucks that drive like the road belongs to them. I’m home before dark, but it takes a painful half hour for the fingers and toes to thaw.

Hockley Valley Road Christmas day 2015 

Tomorrow I’ll re-winterize the KLR, I suspect that this was the last ride of 2015. No doubt the Canadian winter will arrive soon and we’ll be having to cope with a few feet of snow. This is the last post for the year, and I may not post again until the spring.