Nap Time

DW always wanted a lap cat, one that would climb up on her and keep her company. And we had never had one before Finn.

But where one cat will go, others will follow.

Happy Friday!

Third Time's a Charm

Last year, I rode this route many times. This year, it seemed like I wouldn't even complete it once.

It started off with DW and me looking for and finding the Osgoode Link Pathway, a disused railway line that has been turned into a recreational path and runs from Leitrim Road, near the Hyland Golf Club, all the way down to Buckles Street, in the south end of Osgoode.

We rode out to Manotick and then followed Mitch Owens Road to Bakker's General Store, and then hooked a right, onto Manotick Station Road, and caught up with the pathway a few hundred metres down. The fine gravel path is a fairly straight line, heading south.

Once we reached Osgoode Main Street, we'd follow it to Nixon Drive and then head back north, up to Snake Island Road, Roger Stevens Drive, and then Rideau Valley Drive, back to Manotick and then home. It was a 50-km route that DW considered her long ride.

It became my medium-length route.

But as I wanted to branch out and take longer rides, I'd skip the Osgoode Link Pathway, tending to ride Mitch Owens all the way to Old Prescott Road, where I'd pass through Greely and Enniskerry, before reaching Osgoode Main Street. I'd pass Nixon Drive, preferring the paved shoulder of River Road, which took me back up to Roger Stevens, and the rest of the route that DW and I took to get home.

Not liking the condition of Stagecoach Road south from Enniskerry, nor Osgoode Main Street into the town, I cut back on my route, taking Snake Island Road from Enniskerry all the way to Nixon Drive, and completing my route.

This final, medium route is nearly 58 kms long.

On my first attempt at this route, at the beginning of this summer, I had to cut it short because my bike was having problems. Because of where the issue with my crank arm occurred, I didn't cut it very short, only eliminating 2K from the ride (I like to speed through a couple of neighbourhoods to add some distance).

When I received my bike back from the shop, I attempted this route for the second time and ended up stopping between Osgoode and Kars, along the Rideau River. The so-called repair to my bike hadn't been completed and my crank assembly started coming apart.

I've since had the entire crank assembly replaced and have completed several rides since then, but it wasn't until this week that I attempted the ride that had seen my crank arm come off, twice.

The third time was a charm.

My bike performed so well that I skipped my usual rest spot—where the crank came off, twice—and didn't stop until I was 36K into the ride, at the Swan on the Rideau. I got off my bike, stretched, drank some of my lemonade, and continued the rest of the way home.

My average moving speed was 25 kph and I had reached a top speed of 50.6 kph, likely when I zoomed downhill at Longfields and Prince of Wales, and crossed onto Rideau Valley Drive (I love that rush but wish the road was in better condition between Prince of Wales and Barnsdale). It was a good ride.

My bike is running like new and I feel as though I'm ready for some longer rides. I may head down to Kemptville, Oxford Mills, and Burritts Rapids. I'll have to work out a safe route. Or perhaps I'll cycle to Ashton Station, stopping at the brewery and pub before making my way back home.

Stay tuned.

Inuksuit on the River

Man of Many Hats

I'm not known by the hats I wear. In fact, I don't really have a lot of hats that regularly don my head.

Photo by Scott Oakley.

I've worn my share of baseball caps, which are sensible over the summer for keeping the bright light off your face. I'd never wear it backwards—personally, I find it kind of looks dumb and defeats its purpose—except when I am shooting photography and the bill gets in the way as I bring the camera to my face.

One of my favourite ball caps is my CBC Ottawa cap, which I won by answering some trivia questions about CBC Radio during Westfest, in Westboro. I like travelling with it because the CBC logo is about as recognizable as the Canadian maple leaf (the hat also says 'Ottawa' on the back). And, when I wear it while taking pictures, some folks assume that I'm covering a story for the news outlet and tend to cut me some slack, especially at music festivals (no need for a media pass).

Sorry, it has just worked out that way. I didn't portray myself any way other than as myself. The hat did all the talking.

When I lived in South Korea, from 1997 to 1999, I wore some pretty funky hats. Summers could be brutally hot and the more shade you had, the better. DW often carried a parasol to protect herself from the sun's rays. As I don't like to carry umbrellas of any kind, a wide-brimmed hat did me just fine, no matter the looks I received.

And of course, I have my expedition hat, which I purchased in La Jolla, California, in 2016, after my old expedition hat of almost 20 years was lost to the Grand Canyon. My replacement hat is much better, with a wider brim, and I use it every time DW and I go kayaking or explore the great outdoors.

It keeps the sun and rain off my head, keeps the deer flies off my face, and never lets my head get too hot or too cold. It's my favourite hat and has followed me to Mexico, Cuba, and as far as South Korea.

DW and I will be going to Portugal in September, and we're already starting to plan what we want to bring in terms of clothes, shoes, and equipment. And, of course, we've been thinking of the types of hats we want to bring.

My first thought was to bring my expedition hat. It's my travel hat, after all. But sometimes, I find it's a bit big for taking on a plane. I can't wear it while I sit and can't keep it on my lap if I need to put the tray down for food or drink. And I hate putting it on the floor, where my restless feet constantly move and tread all over it.

There is a hat that I bought in Venice, Italy, in 2009, and don't tend to wear very often but might be a decent substitute for my expedition hat. It's a black trilby hat. I don't tend to wear it that often because even though it's an extra-large size, it looks small for my head.

I have a very large head.

The trilby hat might do the trick because I can keep it on my head during the flight and on the various trains that we'll be taking across Portugal. Though the brim isn't as big as the one on my expedition hat, it will keep the sun out of my eyes, and even allows me to put a camera up to my face without getting in the way.

But DW makes a very good point: it does little to keep the sun off the back of my neck. And sun is a factor in Portugal, which receives a lot of it, particularly in the southern region of Algarve, where we'll be spending a few days. We even have plans to kayak off the coast on a couple of days.

I can't imagine kayaking without my expedition hat.

What do you think? Should I stick with my expedition hat or should I take my trilby?

I'll also throw my CBC cap in my bag for good measure. After all, that logo is just like sticking a maple leaf pin in my backpack.

Closet Culling

We've been meaning to do this for several years.

When we moved into our house, in 2000, we ordered beautiful oak furniture for our bedroom. The drawers were made of cedar, which apparently keeps the moths away (so far, so good). The small, family-owned company that made the furniture, by hand, was located near Montebello, Québec, and I remember how it took two very muscular young men a lot of effort to get the dressers up our stairs and into our bedroom.

In our original layout, we didn't like how one of us had very little room from the edge of the bed to a wall, so after a couple of months, DW and I rearranged the furniture so that we both had lots of room on either side of the bed.

And yeah, that furniture was a bitch to move.

The only problem with the rearrangement was that one of the dressers, which also has a small door that hides shelves, didn't quite fit in one corner, so we had to place it on an angle in order for us not to bump into it.

It's been in that spot for more than 20 years, on an angle, next to our walk-in closet. Over the years, we've stored odds and ends behind that dresser—mostly items that we didn't want our cats to get at, such as DW's yoga mats and our camping mattresses.

This weekend, DW and I finally decided to de-clutter our closet, and DW said that the time had come for that dresser to no longer occupy that corner. She wanted it to go in our closet.

We pulled literally everything out of the closet: shirts, pants, dresses, suits, suitcases, gym bags, the laundry hamper, and more. There were things that we hadn't seen in years. It all went on our bed and wherever we could fit it on the floor in our room.

Next, we vacuumed the carpet and wiped down the shelves. It was so weird seeing the closet completely empty. With the blinds drawn and sunlight flooding in, it seemed huge.

It was time to move the dresser into the closet. Even with all of the drawers pulled out and the shelves emptied, it weighed a ton. But DW and I prevailed and the dresser was at the back of the closet.

Our next job was to go through all of the clothes and items that we had in the closet before, and to start culling. I threw out some dress shirts that I hadn't worn in years. Some, I hadn't worn because my gut had grown over the years and no longer fit me, but to my surprise, they fit me once again.

But I still put them in a donation bag. "If I haven't missed these shirts before now, I'll probably never miss them in the future," I told DW.

I pitched some dress slacks, some that didn't even look as though I had ever worn them. DW found outfits from which she had never even removed the store tags. She found one of her old black-velvet and satin cocktail dresses, that she had worn when we were first dating, and asked Kid 1 if she would be interested in wearing it. Kid 1 liked it, tried it on, and it fit perfectly.

DW also found a cloth bag, with Korean Hangul written on it, which had been tucked away at the very back of the closet, behind other clothes. Inside was a perfectly folded dress. It was a Korean hanbok, or traditional dress, which had been given to her, in 1997, by our friend, Kyung-hee.

DW showed it to Kid 1, who immediately wanted to try it on. She had to look online to find out how to adjust it so that it fit properly, but the dress, although a tiny bit too long, otherwise fit Kid 1 like a glove.

Photos shot, we carefully refolded the dress and placed it back in the bag that had preserved it for 25 years. It's a keeper.

We've filled almost four bags of clothes and shoes for donation and have moved other items into storage in other parts of the house that can better fit them. There are lots of items that are being disposed of, no longer being of any use. And we have more things that will be sorted and dealt with in the coming days.

But our closet is less crammed—we can actually walk into it without tripping over things—and more organized. And it was nice to step a bit into the past.

Happy Monday!

Pro Mode

Typically, when I use my smartphone to take a photo, I go with the automatic mode on the camera. I just point and shoot.

No muss, no fuss. I can fix things up, later, in post production.

But every once and a while, I like to override some of the automatic settings and take more control of the camera to see what it can really do. After all, the camera on my Samsung S10 is pretty damned good, sometimes rivalling the quality of my Nikon D-SLR cameras.

In some instances, it even surpasses them.

This year, I've used my smartphone to capture photos much more often than I have with my D-SLRs. Mostly, it's out of convenience; many times, it's out of laziness, not wanting to carry a bunch of gear with me when I can slip my phone into my back pocket.

When DW and I were in Mexico, last February, I left my bigger cameras at home, opting to use only my smartphone or my 360-degree cameras. But when we head to Portugal, in September, I'm bringing both D-SLR bodies and at least two lenses (likely, three).

And, of course, my smartphone will come with me.

Last Saturday, DW and I drove to Almonte to kayak along the Mississippi River. It was the first time that we have paddled this stretch of the Mississippi and we only covered about 2.5 kilometres before a set of class-1 rapids forced us to turn around—while we'd have no trouble tackling the rapids in our kayaks, the current was too strong to paddle back.

After our paddle, we felt we deserved to treat ourself to food and drink in the town, and we ended up on the balcony of Joe's Italian Kitchen, right at the corner of Mill Street and Almonte Street, in the narrow heritage building that used to be a mill. As luck would have it, we faced the falls that cut through the main part of town.

Immediately after we were seated, I pulled out my smartphone and took the following photo in fully automatic mode:

It wasn't a bad shot, considering the water level was at a minimum and there wasn't much to the falls. It wasn't like it was when I last photographed them, before sunrise, in early spring of 2020.

I showed DW my pre-dawn photo, from 2020, and she wondered if she could capture moving water on her phone. She has an Apple iPhone 13 (not Pro). She looked at her settings and couldn't find a way to set up the shot manually, which surprised me. I thought that the only difference between her phone and the Pro version was the extra lens, but it seemed that there were no manual overrides.

If we're wrong, let me know in the Comments section.

My phone has manual overrides, which I've used only a few times. In Mexico, I learned that my phone even has a Night mode, which allowed me to shoot in very low light. After failing to capture a good evening shot in Manual mode, and after donning my reading glasses, I learned about this Night mode and it made all the difference in the world.

As DW explored the camera settings on her smartphone, I set my own smartphone camera settings to Pro mode. I slowed down the shutter speed to 1/6 of a second, set the ISO to 50, and opened the aperture to f/2.4. I composed the camera similarly to my first shot and pressed the shutter release.

I don't want to brag but DW swears by Apple phones and I didn't purchase the plus-version of my Android phone. It's a standard S10. And unless we're wrong about her smartphone, my two-and-a-half-year-old phone beats her new one from this year.

Yeah, I leave my D-SLRs at home more often. But when you have a smartphone that can do a lot of what my bigger cameras can do, can you blame me?

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Orange CreamsicALE

Photo: Google

One of the things that I miss about being a kid in the summer is the Dickie-Dee person. I remember hearing the bells ringing from their handle bars long before you saw the person on the three-wheeled, freezer-forward cycle coming.

My friends and I would drop what we were doing and rush to our homes, begging our mothers to give us some coins so that we could get our favourite cool treats.

For me, I loved the Orange Creamsicles. I haven't had one in decades but I'll never forget the taste: a juicy orange popsicle shell with creamy vanilla ice cream inside.

Last year, when Farm Boy, our local grocery store, came out with its own line of sparkling water, I tried the orange-vanilla flavour and it brought back memories of my childhood summer treat. Of course, without any sugar, this is not a sweet beverage but it does quench my thirst and is my favourite flavoured sparkling drink.

When I learned that a Southern Ontario brewery came out with a creamsicle-flavoured ale, I had to try it. Would it remind me of my childhood? Let's see...

Orange Creamsicale (4.8% ABV, 5 IBUs)
Railway City Brewing Company
St. Thomas, ON

Appearance: a pale, hazy orange, like a watered-down Orange Crush, with a white, foamy head that settles to a loose, fine lace. There are fine beads of effervescence, similar to that sugary soda.

Nose: the aromas are quite closed, and it took some time for me to discern anything. At first, I caught hints of the malted wheat and gradually I could discern orange zest. But the aromas are subtle and I had to get my nose right into my glass to detect anything. As I drank more, I could detect hints of vanilla, but not much and I really needed to breathe in deeply.

Palate: again, the flavours in the mouth are subtle, though I could discern mild orange. I expected some creaminess, hoping that there was added lactose, which would make this more of a milkshake cream ale. I don't get any, can't see lactose on the label, nor can I find any mention of the use of lactose on Railway City's Web site. There's a bit of vanilla that comes through in the finish, which is short, but my mouth is not left with much in the way of residual flavour. It's a very light, thirst-quenching ale with light flavours.

Overall impression: on a hot day, this will quench your thirst. But if you're looking for a burst of flavour, if you're looking to be reminded of the flavours of a childhood ice cream treat, you may be disappointed. The orange is light; the vanilla is faint; and the cream is absent. This is not the Orange Creamsicle of my youth.

That said, I didn't dislike Orange Creamsicale. It was refreshing and easy to drink. But I was disappointed by the subtle flavour profile and the lack of any creaminess. I was set up to enjoy a nostalgic moment and was disappointed.

Kind of like when I ran home for change for the Dickie Dee person, only to find my mom had none.

In all honesty, I actually prefer the Farm Boy Organic Orange Vanilla Sparkling Water. I love so many brews from Railway City that I feel bad for this review, but it is what it is.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺.5

You can find Orange Creamsicale at your local LCBO. You can find Creamsicles, if you're lucky, in your grocer's freezer section. And you can find that refreshing orange-vanilla fizzy water at your local Farm Boy.

Cheers!

Kayaking in Almonte

In Training

With only 60 days before DW and I head to Portugal, there are things that we still need to do in preparation for our trip. Sure, we've booked our flights, our accommodation, some tours, and we've fleshed out our itinerary, but there is some other planning that still needs to happen.

For example, we've learned what sizes of carry-on suitcase are required for various flights. Honestly, it kills me that every airline has it's own size limitation, and each time we fly, the size gets smaller and smaller. (When I flew to South Korea, in 2019, I was allowed one roller suitcase no taller than 21"—mine is 20"—and a secondary bag that was smaller—had to fit under the seat in front of me: I used a 20-litre backpack.)

For this flight, the roller suitcase must be no taller than 20" (DW's is 21") and the secondary bag must be no more than 17" tall, which negates my Swiss Army backpack. I had to buy a new backpack that fit the personal-item dimensions, and I'll have to get creative with what I bring and how I pack it.

Good thing I'm a capable traveller.

Our Ryan Air flight, from Porto to Faro, is even more restrictive, so I'll have to juggle things to check my carry-on suitcase and keep my camera gear on me.

But packing, while important, is not the biggest challenge for which DW and I must prepare: it's the walking.

Both Porto and Lisbon are towns with lots of hills and lots of stairs, and we need to get in shape so that we don't exhaust ourselves over the course of a day. In Algarve, there's an 11-kilometre trail along the coast, where there are also lots of ups and downs. Again, we need to train.

I'm sure that my cycling has helped a lot, but there are some muscles that are required for climbing and descending stairs that aren't fully used while pedalling. I also use the gears on my bike to a great extent to ensure that I can climb a hill without wearing myself out.

I'm getting up in age and my knees aren't what they used to be.

During the day, while DW and I work from home, we try to go up and down the stairs as often as possible, but of course there are long stretches where we sit at our desks, getting our work done.

My morning routine has me descending two flights of stairs, into the basement, where I clean the cats' litter boxes. I then walk upstairs, to the kitchen, to wash my hands. I then go back down to the basement to retrieve frozen fruit from our deep freezer and bring them up to the kitchen.

I measure out quantities of blueberries, raspberries, and pineapple, and then go back downstairs to return the bags to the freezer. Back up to the kitchen, where I make my ritual fruit smoothie. I then take my smoothie upstairs, to my office, to start my work day.

That's four times down a flight of stairs and up another four. And I haven't even started work.

To make sure that I get up from my desk, which is one of those kinds that can be raised or lowered for standing or sitting at, I make sure to raise my desk for every meeting and I march on the spot throughout the meeting (I never have my video camera on during a meeting so I'm not a distraction for my coworkers). Depending on how many meetings I have in a day, I can usually get about 7,000 to 10,000 steps completed by lunchtime.

Walking on the spot and climbing stairs at home are fine, but DW and I need to really experience climbing, so we've been looking for places in and around Ottawa to wander. But Ottawa isn't a particularly huge hill city—at least, not many hills close to home.

On the weekend, we wandered over to Hog's Back Park, where there are some trails that take you up and down. And, depending on how fast you walk, they can be a challenge.

DW was telling me, as we walked up a trail from below the Heron Road bridges to a lookout high above the Rideau River that she could feel the burn in her legs. She was unable to speak while we climbed. I spoke while we ascended the path, that had huge stone steps, but my quads were getting a good workout and I could feel my knees protesting by the time we reached the top.

It was a good first walk. I took some sunset photos as we wrapped up our first day of training for hills.

Mooney's Bay, just before the Hog's Back Falls.

We plan to revisit these trails between Hog's Back Park and Vincent Massey Park throughout the week, plus I'd also like to wander up and down the Rideau Locks, between Parliament Hill and the Chateau Laurier. Between the slope up the locks and the stairs that lead to Wellington Street, there's a good workout there.

All of the important planning requirements for our Portuguese trip are taken care of. There are a few minor organizational plans still left to take care of. But the hardest part, in preparation, is the physical training. We have only two months left before we set foot in Portugal but I'm confident we'll be fit enough.

Wish us luck!

Flying over the River

For years in the 'before times,' I used to invite people to join me for photo walks and other photography opportunities. Rarely, am I the one who is invited to a photo meetup.

A couple of weeks ago, I was invited by the Ottawa Instagram group, IgersOttawa, to participate in a rare photo opportunity, and I'm glad I went.

Through IgersOttawa's organization and an offer through Interzip Rogers, about a dozen photographers were allowed to take the zipline across the Ottawa River from Chaudière Island to Gatineau and photograph it. The opportunity was rare because photography is not allowed on the zipline—all personal effects are stored in the office where you sign the waiver and collect your harness and other gear.

We had to sign an agreement that said if we dropped any of our gear while crossing the river, it was an unfortunate mishap that was our fault and our fault alone. Too bad, so sad.

I took my Insta360 One R camera and a selfie stick that I could tether around my wrist, and headed out. I've gone over a waterfall with this rigging and didn't let go of the camera, so a zipline was no problem.

Interzip is Canada's only interprovincial zipline, crossing from Ontario into Québec. The ride takes you 36.5 metres (120 feet) above the river and runs 427 metres (1,200 feet) from start to end. Depending on the wind and your weight, the ride takes about 30 seconds or so.

If you saw last week's Wordless Wednesday's post, you've seen the still images that I captured from the video that I shot as I travelled across the Ottawa River. But I also captured video before and after the action, and I've made a short video to document the experience. I've posted it to my YouTube channel but you can watch it here.

It was a great experience and the view is great (it'll only get better once the area is more developed) but there's no adrenaline rush unless you're afraid of heights, and even then, there's not much fear. I'm afraid of heights but felt secure in the harness.

I can't thank IgersOttawa enough for thinking of me and inviting me to come out and document a rare opportunity. Thanks also to Interzip Rogers for allowing me to ride for free.

If ziplining is your thing, definitely give this one a try.

Happy Monday!

Borrowed

For the first time, I didn't think I'd meet a challenge.

Spoiler alert: challenge met.

At the start of the month, I had joined a cycling challenge through my Garmin watch and its Connect app. I join these challenges almost every month during cycling season, knowing that I can complete it. June made these challenges difficult—to cycle a certain distance in a period of time, like 400 kilometres over the course of the month, or 100 kms in a week, or 40K over a weekend—because the weather was bad (either rain or gusting winds).

I completed all of my June challenges and confidently joined the July challenges the same way, taking on all three of the aforementioned distance challenges. The challenge to complete 100 kms in a week ended last Saturday, and I came close to not meeting it.

All because of my bike.

Last Thursday, as I mentioned on Monday, the crank arm that was supposed to be repaired came loose during the first ride that I took after collecting it from the bike shop. I would have ridden my bike sooner, except I had come down with a throat infection that took the wind out of my sails. Thursday was the first day that I felt good enough to ride, and I only had three days left to complete my 100K challenge.

I had planned to ride about 60K but only made it just over 36K before I called it quits, not wanting to risk further damage to the bike or to my safety. DW rescued me about 24 kms from home and we took my bike directly back to the shop. I wouldn't see it again until Sunday, the day after my 100K challenge would be over.

I do have another bike that I can ride and I had used it at the end of June, when my road bike was initially in the shop, in order to complete my June cycling challenges. But that bike is heavy and I find that my thumbs will ache after a couple of hours of changing gears. My hands also get numb faster than with my road bike (poor circulation does it to me all the time).

On Friday afternoon, some good friends of ours invited us to join us at their cottage, just west of Perth. We were already planning to visit them on Saturday but they told us that if we didn't have plans, we could come that evening.

The only plan I had for Friday (and possibly later, on Saturday) was to complete my 100K challenge. If DW and I were to head to the cottage after work on Friday, I wouldn't have time to complete the remaining 64 kms of my challenge.

Unless...

I asked DW if I could borrow her bike. "I'll cycle to Perth and you can pick me up and take me the rest of the way to the cottage."

I've cycled to Perth before, as part of the Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour. But the 77-km route from Algonquin College avoids major roadways and would take me more than three hours to complete, and I had forgotten parts of that route (I've only cycled it twice and I was following signs and other cyclists). This time, I would be starting from home (a little closer to Perth) and planned to stick to the most-direct route, which would mean taking County Road 10 through Richmond and Franktown.

I know this road and there are sections that I just don't like: long stretches of unpaved shoulders; potholes and crumbling pavement on the edges of the asphalt; drivers exceeding the 80 kph speed limit (I should know: I do it, too).

"You'll take good care of my bike?" asked DW. Her bike, an Opus, is the same size as mine, and DW has it pretty much configured as I have my own. It wasn't a perfect fit but I didn't have to readjust her seat or handlebars.

"At least as good as I care for my own." The parts that were being replaced were due to years of use and not due to neglect or abuse.

Fallowfield Road, between Moodie Drive and Steeple Hill Crescent, is awful and I hate to ride it, but at least it's a short distance. Same with Richmond Road, from Steeple Hill to just past Cambrian Road, but then there's a paved shoulder into the town of Richmond. Where the road gets bad, again, is the west end of Richmond until you cross Munster Road, when the shoulder is paved again until you reach Dwyer Hill Road.

The paved shoulder comes and goes, and I was constantly finding vehicles—particularly, pickup trucks—not respecting the one-meter distance. IT'S THE LAW, PEOPLE!

It took two hours and forty-five minutes to get from my driveway to Perth's town hall. DW had passed me, just before I reached Richmond, and waited in a parking lot as I passed by. She was looking for me to give a thumbs up, a signal that I was comfortable on her bike and could make the whole journey. By the time I had reached Perth, she had spent at least an hour with our friends at their cottage.

Straight line to Perth.

From home to Perth, I covered 67.5 kms, completing my week-long challenge. Nearly two-thirds of the challenge completed in one ride and on a borrowed bike. When I arrived at the cottage, I went straight into the lake, not bothering to change out of my cycle shorts and jersey.

They needed a good rinse.

Would I do this ride again? Maybe. And maybe, next time, I'd continue all the way to Stanleyville, the closest village to the cottage. But I think I'd have to see if there's a smoother and safer route to take. It might be longer but it would be less stressful.

Of course, I'd have to wait until DW and I are invited back to our friends' cottage.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Release 58

It is rare that I see a new beer released, through social media, order that beer, and have it delivered to my door the very next day. It's even more rare to try that beer on the day that it arrives at my home and write a review of it.

I think that this is the first time where both rare events have happened.

One of my favourite Ottawa breweries posted a photo on Twitter and it immediately grabbed my attention. The photo showed a glass of hefeweizen, one of my favourite styles for the summer. It was the latest offering in a special series of brews and I knew I had to try it.

I immediately placed my order, along with a Kölsch that was also new. It's summer and these styles are perfect on a hot day. The very next day, just after lunchtime, the beer showed up on my doorstep. I placed them in the refrigerator, got back to work, and cracked my first can open at dinnertime.

That was yesterday.

Let's take a look at this new brew.

Hefeweizen: 174 Taproom Series Release 58 (4.7% ABV; 12 IBUs)
Broadhead Brewery
Ottawa (Orleans) ON

Appearance: pours a hazy apricot gold with a thin white head that settles to a solid lace that stays on top as the beer level drops. Not a huge abundance of effervescence.

Nose: even before my first sniff, I expected a healthy presence of banana and I was not disappointed. There's also a bit of pear, also expected. The aroma is a classic hefeweizen.

Palate: more pear and a hint of pineapple. There's some banana in the finish, which is light and a tad watery. The body is light—perfect for a hot summer's day.

Overall impression: this is an excellent hefeweizen and I'm so glad that I was able to snag some. Every expectation was met, from the colour, the aroma, and the mouth feel. Perfect.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

Because this brew was only released on Tuesday, I'm hopeful that it will stick around for a bit. But like all releases from Broadhead's 174 Taproom Series, they don't last forever. If you like hefeweizens, Don't miss out.

Broadhead Brewery offers free delivery throughout Ottawa (minimum $40 order) and only $10 for deliveries throughout Ontario (minimum $60 order). And, of course, you can always visit their taproom and enjoy a glass on their patio.

Cheers!

Flying High

One-Track Mind

It's all that DW and I have been able to think about for the past few months: travel.

I'm not talking about the kind of trips that we've made since the pandemic, once travel was permitted. We flew to Cuba—one of the safest countries in the world when it came to vaccinations and safe distancing, with masks. We also flew to the Mayan Riviera of Mexico, where we also made sure to mask up.

There was little to no planning for those trips. We simply boarded our flights, gained transportation to our resorts, and relaxed. Eat, swim, eat, drink, lounge, eat, drink, sleep.

And repeat.

I've talked about these vacations in past posts and I've recently mentioned that DW and I have been planning our next vacation. We've researched, we've booked, we've made lists, and we've bought required supplies. And now I feel as though I can share those plans with you.

We're heading to Portugal for just over two weeks in September.

To be honest, Portugal was never really on our radar before this spring. Our original destination was southern Spain, mainly in Seville.

When we first started planning for Spain, we looked into airfare, thinking that we would fly from Ottawa or Montreal to Madrid, and then take a train south, to Seville. But when we were quoted prices for airfare, we decided to see if we could fly into somewhere else—somewhere that would take no longer to travel to Seville than from Madrid.

We found inexpensive tickets by flying into Lisbon, Portugal.

"I don't know anything about Lisbon," I told DW.

"Neither do I," she said.

We turned to YouTube and watched an Expedia-produced video of Portugal's capital. And I fell in love immediately.

"You know, I could just spend two weeks in Lisbon."

"I agree," said DW.

All I knew about Portugal is that it was the home to port wine, something that both DW and I love. We love a good tawny. We watched a few more videos of Lisbon, and made the decision to make this city our prime destination. But we also wanted to visit Porto and explore the Douro Valley, home of the Portuguese quintas, or vineyards.

Over the past couple of months, our trip has taken shape. We'll fly from Montreal to Lisbon and then take an express train, north, straight to Porto. We'll spend three days exploring this beautiful city and touring the Douro Valley.

From there, we'll fly to the southern coast of Portugal and to the Algarve region. Beaches, beautiful cliffs, and rock formations. We'll relax in the city of Lagos for two nights and then move over to another Algarve town, Portimão, for one more night, before taking a train to Lisbon.

We've rented a lovely apartment in the happening neighbourhood of Bairro Alto and will explore the heart of Lisbon. (I've watched so many videos of Lisbon that I'd have no problem finding my way around without a map.) We've also planned some day trips to the nearby towns of Sintra and Cascais, on the western coast.

All of our airfare is purchased. All of our accommodation is booked. In the next couple of weeks, we'll be able to reserve our train tickets. Our itinerary is almost complete.

All that's really left is the waiting. September cannot come soon enough. Because Portugal is all that DW and I are thinking of.

Everything Old is New Again

In the first six months of 2022, I only missed publishing a blog post once. The reason was beyond my control: the derecho that cut through Ottawa and knocked out power was to blame for that missed post.

In the first full week of July, I missed two blog posts in a row. The first, because I was sick and didn't have the energy, much less the brain power, to write something meaningful; the next day, I just didn't have anything to say.

I have more to say now.

Coming off of a nasty throat infection that lasted almost a week, I feel somewhat renewed. I went for more than three days without eating solid food, relying on fruit smoothies and protein shakes, and my body felt a bit of a toxic purge. No junk food, no fats, and no booze.

A bit of a clean slate.

Needless to say that while I was sick, I didn't feel like riding my bicycle. On Canada Day, I had started a new virtual challenge through the Appalachian Trail, starting in Georgia, just north of Atlanta. The 3,167.6-kilometre trail should take me about 126 days, if not sooner, but I'm scheduled to be done by November 3.

With my throat infection starting that evening, after DW and I took a 6.4K walk along the Rideau Canal, I hadn't felt like getting on my bike for any sort of distance, let alone walking around the house. But it was just as well because I had sent my bike into the shop for repair on a worn-out crank arm. Monday would have been the earliest that I would have been able to ride it, anyway.

On Thursday, I was starting to feel better. It was the first day that I had been able to eat solid food and I had more energy. So after work, I hopped on my bike to test out the fixed crank.

It hadn't been fixed.

As far as I got (36.4 kms).

About 25 kms into the ride, the arm felt loose again and I was able to remove it without difficulty. I was exactly in the same place I had been in when this first happened to my bike. I was able to tighten it up a bit but knew that the ride home would be difficult, and I prepared to call for help.

When I reached the village of Enniskerry, the entire crankshaft was coming loose, so I called DW to come and rescue me. I told her that I would try to make it a few more kilometres, to the Swan on the Rideau, a restaurant and marina at River Road and Roger Stevens Drive, and would meet her there.

While I awaited DW in the Swan's parking lot, I called the bike shop to notify them of what had happened and that I was now waiting in the middle of nowhere to be rescued. I would then be bringing my bike directly to them to be fixed. The right way, this time.

To the people in the store's credit, they were very apologetic. When a mechanic removed the arm from my bike and inspected it, he yelled to the back, "Who did the repair work to the Cannondale on the weekend?" There were some murmurs and then the mechanic excused himself while he took the arm to the back.

Words were exchanged in low tones.

When the mechanic came back, he showed me my crank arm. "I'm so sorry," he said, showing me inside the arm where it attaches to the crank mechanism. "See how it's worn down on this side? It should have never gone back onto your bike. This should have been caught. You need a new crank arm."

Because of the age of my bike, it was difficult to track down a replacement. The store was about to close but the mechanic said he'd look into finding one. He also gave me the details of the arm, in case I wanted to do some searching on my own.

"Worst-case," he said, "we'd have to replace the whole mechanism but at least we have all of those parts in stock." He told me that for my trouble, he'd cut me a deal on the cost of the parts. I left my bike with him and he assured me that he'd call me the next morning.

And then Roger's crashed.

The mechanic wasn't able to access the Internet on Friday, but I had looked on Thursday night and was confused by the wide variance in prices, let alone who to trust when it came to ordering. The mechanic gave me a ballpark figure of what the new arm should cost, as well as the prices for ordering the complete mechanism. Again, he said that he had no assurances to the availability or wait time on his end.

"You know," I said, "my bike is 11 years old. It's been reliable and has cost me next to nothing in terms of parts." Indeed, apart from tubes, tires, one wheel, some spokes, and a chain, I've only paid for regular maintenance every couple of years. It was a good, reliable, well-built bike. "Go ahead and replace the whole mechanism."

He charged me just over half of what he originally quoted me.

When I picked up the bike, yesterday afternoon, it looked brand-new. Yes, they had thoroughly cleaned the bike when I had taken it in, the week before, but there was something different with it this time. Some of the deep scratches on the frame seemed polished up and were hardly noticeable. But it was the new crank that stood out.

The old one was stainless steel: this one was black with a low sheen. It seemed to blend more with the black-and-white frame. Even the person who helped me (a different mechanic) looked at my bike with admiration. "That's a great bike you have there," he said as he wheeled it over to me.

Test ride (28.24 kms).

To make sure the bike was working as good as new, I came dressed in my cycling clothes. I had an ice-cold bottle of lemonade, my tool pack, and lights. DW dropped me off at the shop and I cycled home, taking a circuitous route to ensure that I could get more than 25K without any issues.

It rode like a dream. It felt like it was new.

I've pretty much recovered from my throat infection and my bike is running like new. I'm looking forward to catching up in my virtual Appalachian Trail challenge, to catching the pace marker and leaving it behind in the virtual dust.

Rideau Canal Walk

Infinite Serenity

I don't often have games on my smartphone and when I do, I rarely have more than two at a time and I tend to change them up from time to time.

I don't go for the combat games that involve story lines, as I find they take a long time to play and can easily distract me for hours. And, believe me, in these times, when I find myself mostly confined to the home for work and daily life, I can be easily distracted.

I like to go for games where my brain has to be engaged. Off and on over the years, I've downloaded Sudoku on my phone and set it up for the expert level. It can take me between five and 10 minutes to play and I feel a sense of accomplishment when I place the final number in the last vacant square. I'd play a couple of rounds while killing time and then take a break.

When I've found that I've become bored with Sudoku, I've uninstalled it, tried another game, and have later re-installed it. But I've recently uninstalled Sudoku for the last time because of the vast number of ads that pop up. I wasn't overly bothered when an ad would come on every once and a while between games, but ads started popping up in the middle of a game, often when I was in my zone, only to have my concentration broken.

That was enough for me. I'd get too stressed, waiting for the point when I could stop the ad from playing and return to the game.

I've tried some of those games where you pour different colours of sand into bottles in an attempt to sort all of the colours. I find those games relaxing, as there is no time that you're trying to beat and the game is often finished in a matter of minutes. After a couple of rounds, I'm ready to do something else.

But those colour-sorting games get boring for me very quickly and I find that I don't keep those games on my phone for very long. And there seemed to be an ad after every round, which could be frustrating.

I've recently downloaded a game that is challenging, is usually finished in fewer than five minutes, and where the ads seem to be at a minimum (in fact, one of the reviews highlighted the fact that there were so few ads). The accompanying music for the game is also calming, and I find that it's the most relaxing game I've played on my phone to date.

It's called Energy and is made by Infinity Games.

The game is simple: there are various sources of energy, lights, and connections that spin on an axis and are scrambled on the screen. You need to tap each component to move them and connect all of the lights and power sources to complete a pattern and light up your screen.

That's it.

It's not as simple as it sounds but it's also not overly complicated. And as I said, the background music is calming.

There are ads with this game but they don't pop up at the end of every round. In fact, sometimes, I'll play three or four rounds in one sitting without a single ad showing up. Of course, like so many free games, if you need a hint, you'll have to sit through an ad but I've found that those ads don't seem to last for more than about 20 seconds.

If you like games that require a bit of brain work without providing stress, and if you don't like to see ads pop up every few seconds, I recommend giving Energy a try. For me, it's infinite serenity.

What about you? Which games do you like to play on your phone? Do you have any recommendations for calm games? Leave a comment.

Fast Ride

It's the fastest virtual challenge I've ever taken.

At the beginning of this year, as I was still finishing my virtual Route 66 trek of The Conqueror Virtual Challenges, I signed up for three more that I thought would take me to the end of 2022. In February, I started the Great Wall challenge, which wrapped up just over a week ago.

Because that challenge took so long, I thought it would be good to do a shorter route, afterward. The Cabot Trail route, on Nova Scotia's Cape Breton Island, at 300 kilometres, seemed like a good way to go. Plus, having driven that route in the 90s with DW, it was familiar territory.

I gave myself two weeks to complete the challenge, thinking that I could easily complete 21 kms each day, allowing for a decent ride every other day and then a short ride or long walk on alternating days.

I finished the challenge in one week.

It went so fast that I hardly had time to take this beautiful route in. I did stop, one evening, at Cape Breton Highlands National Park, near Ingonish. DW and I camped and hiked around that area for a couple of days. I also stopped along a stretch of the trail road on the western side of the park, where there's a lookout point where, if you're lucky, you can spot migrating whales in the Gulf of St. Laurence.

For real, when DW and I were there, we spied a pod of Pilot Whales.

I have stories to share from that trip, which I may share this week for Throwback Thursday. Riding this route, even virtually, has brought back some memories.

I'm now a few days into my next virtual challenge, the Appalachian Trail. It's nearly 3,180 kms and will likely take me into late October or early November to complete. So far, I've only walked to earn my distances toward this goal. But my road bike came back from the shop yesterday and if the weather is good later this afternoon, I'll rack up more kilometres.

Maybe, I'll catch up and surpass the pace marker, which is set at 25 kms per day.

I have no worries except for the few weeks, in September, when DW and I will be on vacation, without bikes or kayaks. You know, travelling for real.

Wish me luck.

Proud

One of the things that bothered me the most about the extreme-right occupiers in Ottawa, last February, is how they spread their misinformation, disinformation, and hatred under the banner of being proud Canadians.

That's not pride. It's not even being Canadian.

From the moment they set their disruptive convoy in progress, waving our maple leaf—often, upside-down—it made me feel bad at seeing the symbol of our country used in such a disrespectful way, waving side-by-side with American flags, Confederate flags, and Nazi flags.

That's not pride: that's a disgrace.

(Note: waving the American flag in of itself is not disgraceful but it showed that the so-called issue with these protesters was akin to what happened on January 6, 2021, in Washington DC. I'm sure many decent Americans cringe to see their flag used in such a disrespectful, misguided way.)

I am a proud Canadian. I like to see our flag fly high. I think our country can be a shining beacon, where people are accepted, regardless of culture, colour, religion, sexual orientation, or gender identity.

Is Canada perfect? No. Is our government perfect? Again, no. Do we have areas of growth? Plenty.

But I'm going to fly my flag today and show the pride that those who wish to visit Ottawa have sorrowfully twisted.

Happy Canada Day!