I am well over 1000 kms into my journey across Canada and the United States on my bicycle. Days riding solo through northern Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan leave you with plenty of time to mull about in your own head. Indeed, these are often the best times. Similarly to watching the clock slowly countdown at work, there are few times more tedious and frustrating than those where you find yourself focusing only on the bike computer as the kilometers tick away at a painfully slow pace.
The journey so far has brought something to mind. Cyclists and motorists alike are used to honks from cars. But not every honk is the same. My two weeks on the road has led me to identify a honk as one of three types.
The first honk, the ‘Get off the fuckin’ road’ honk, is the one most common among urban cyclists, but has only occurred a handful of times on my trip. We all know the type. People lean on the horn, as if recording a soundtrack for a stereotypical downtown New York TV show. I was used to them in cities when I had no gear on my bike, but it surprises me that I’ve received these honks with a fully loaded bike. Again, it has been most common in the cities, as I tend to arrive during rush hour, some cars seem to be upset that my hundred pounds of bike is taking up a small segment of the lane. Do I look like a typical cyclist? Perhaps the most frightening type of this honk occurred on my first day while travelling south of Steinbach, MB. With no shoulder, some douchebag in a red Dodge Caliber honked at me as he had to slow down to pass me. Little bother. But a few minutes later he doubled back and yelled at me as he passed, “get off the road you mother –“! I can only imagine he wasn’t following that up with ‘Theresa’. These honks are few and far between, but can be quite bothersome.
The second type of honk is the warning honk. These are quick and tend to come from far away. Typically, a trucker or car will notice that I’m straddling the lane as they approach and just want to warn me – without scaring me – that they are coming and I should do my best to get out of the way. These are very much appreciated, as I tend to go into a daze sometimes and forget that I’m not in the shoulder.
The third is the friendly, ‘look it’s a crazy cyclist’ honk. These tend to come from people coming the other way along the road and are quick and as happy as a honk can get. Sometimes they consist of a series of quick honks, like when you see a friend on the street. As if the cars are trying to say hello, these honks really raise my spirit sometimes.
Another aspect of the trip that dominates my riding days, particularly in the United States, is when I see mile markers. Miles are longer than kilometers and I’ve grown up using kilometers to measure my biking distance. So when you see a mile marker for only 30, a feeling comes over you that you are only 30 kms away, whereas in reality you are a good 50 kms away. The repeated psychological impact of this effect can be very detrimental, especially on the days where you are struggling and your mind is not working as effectively as it could be.
Lastly, I have fallen in love with cheap American tastiness. It is not until spending some time in this country that I realize that my typical diet would be far cheaper in the United States. I love fast food and I love beer. With the dollar near parity, it is wonderful to go into a McDonald’s (the main source of my free WiFi) and enjoy three or four burgers for under $5.00. Mmmm, Dollar Menu. But it doesn’t stop at McDonald’s. I discovered that Little Caesars sells Hot-n-Ready’s for $5, just like in Canada, except that the pizzas are size large, not medium. And finally, beer is amazingly cheap. I went into a corner store and saw that Labatt Blue, which was ‘imported’ was $10 for a 12 pack. In Canada, you’d be looking closer to $19 or $20, and it’s a domestic. A six pack of a quality microbrew only set me back $7 and at least two specials at little bars had giant beers (at least 2 pints) for $4.00 a piece. Good quality beer, too.
What a country.
