First Winter's Ride Of 2006
It has been one of the mildest winters on record so far; the temperatures have remained above the freezing mark pretty much ever since late November and instead of the normal snowfall we have suffered many days of rain. We even had to endure a green Xmas, as the snow still hadn't arrived and the grass was still green in many spots on our lawn Xmas Day. That finally changed this morning, 30 Dec 06, when I awoke to see 2cm of fresh white stuff on the ground and a light snowfall still in the air. Bonus! Time for the first winter ride of the season...
Hector did his usual happy-paws dance when I asked if he wanted to go for a ride and he was quite happy to be loaded into the sidecar and wait while the Ural warmed up in the -6C morning air. He was wearing his tartan riding jacket and Doggles, as I expected to encounter a fair bit of slush on our trip and I didn't want road salt getting into the crevices of his eyelids or working its way into his fur. The forecast was calling for another 2cm of snow before the afternoon skies would open up with sunshine, so it looked like a grrrrreat day for a ride! After a quick ride to the gas station for a fillup - and quick ride back home to fix a non-functioning brake light (corrosion on the fuse) - we were off on our adventure.
I started out on the back roads route towards Kingston with the intent of visiting my Harley at Motosport Plus, where it was safely tucked away in warm winter storage. I took the less traveled route because I knew I'd need some time to adjust to winter riding conditions, which turned out to be a smart move. A few km's into the trip, I turned off the highway onto a county road that hadn't seen the salt truck yet and promptly encountered my first loss of traction moment when the Ural suddenly slewed all over the road. All the recent rainfall had frozen the gravel surface underneath the snow into a skating rink and it caught me by surprise when the rear wheel lost traction. After much body English, throttle feathering and countersteering (much to the delight of the people following me in a pickup truck), I got the rig straightened out and carried on. My second loss of traction moment occurred a few minutes later on another side road when I approached a t-junction faster than I should have. It was on a downhill slope and when I applied the brakes both wheels promptly locked up, the engine stalled and the rig slid over towards the left ditch. Some more frantic body English, brake feathering and choice expletives got the bike back under control and we slid to a halt just after the stop sign on the (thankfully) deserted intersection. Hector had popped up in the sidecar and was looking at me with his "again, Daddy!" expression, but I'd had enough butt-clenching moments for today.
By now the salt trucks and plows were out in force and by the time we turned back on to the highway it was a soggy, slushy, sandy mess. Within minutes my lower pant legs were wet from road spray and as I wasn't keen on having to ride though these conditions the rest of the way to Kingston and back, I headed to Mom and Dad's place for a quick visit. I got Dad to take this photo, our first official winter pic. Note my new Bell Lynx full-face helmet with the opening front, a gift from my beloved Angie at Xmas. The neoprene "skull" face mask is my usual under-helmet gear for winter; I've been told it's an improvement over my normal face.
We headed back to Gananoque with the intent of exploring the back roads east of the town. I dipped down to the waterfront so that we wouldn't have to ride through the slush filled streets of the downtown area. The road in this pic is in the heart of the tourist district, on a normal summer day it would be absolutely packed with people, cars and tour buses. By now the snow had stopped, the sun was just beginning to shine and a snowplow just gone roaring by before I took the photo, so it was time to move on before the salt starting melting everything.
The main roads had all been salted by this point and my pant legs and the back of my jacket were starting to get pretty wet, so it was time to find some quiet country roads. I stopped at this lookout along the Pretty River Parkway because something didn't look right on the river and I couldn't figure out what was wrong. Then it dawned on me - normally at this time of year all the bays and inlets along the St Lawrence River would be frozen solid, but it was still open water as far as the eye could see.
After a quick stop at one of my favourite stores, the Rockport Lighthouse (no photo this time, as I figure I've taken enough of that spot by now), I turned on to a back road that had yet to see the salt truck. Which was a mixed blessing, because although my pant legs got a chance to dry out there was very little traction on the glare ice underneath the snow and it required a bit of concentration to keep the Ural in line.
Had a banjo moment after I'd pulled over to take the above photo; that fenceline up ahead on the left marks a driveway into a country home. Apparently my presence had caused the owner some concern, because as I rode by I saw him walking up the driveway, presumably to come over and investigate. As I motored past, he gave me a cheerful wave, then turned around to walk back to his house. What disturbed me was the crossbow he was holding in the hand that he had waved at me with. Maybe he had been doing a little target practice in his front yard and had simply forgotten to put the weapon down before wandering up the driveway....? Man, I sure hope so, but next time I head down that road it will be at a higher speed and without any stops!
We got back onto more traveled roads and the subsequent slush soakings. My butt was starting to get cold and my lower legs were soaked, so it was time for one more stop before heading for home. Hector hadn't been out for a run yet, so I pulled onto an ATV trail and then turned into the entrance of this field to let The Wonder Dog loose for a bit. Had to shake out and hang his riding jacket on the rear luggage rack, as it was coated in road spray. His Doggles had a bit of crud on them as well, so it was a good thing I'd dressed him properly for the ride otherwise he wouldn't have been as happy as he was.
As I stood there watching Hector romp about in the snow like the puppy he is, I heard an odd sound coming from down the trail. At first I thought it was a group of bikes, but that just didn't make sense at this location and at this time of year. A minute later I was treated to the sight of 12 ATV's roaring past on their way home from a woodland adventure. I waved at the leader and got a startled look in return, clearly I was not in his frame of reference. The rest of the gang seemed just as surprised to see me, with many of them twisting around in their seats for a second look after they'd passed by. Okay, I guess a sidecar rig parked halfway down an ATV trail isn't a common sight in these parts.
After they had disappeared, I walked back onto the trail and looked down the way they had just come to check for more ATV's. And I suddenly realised why the road we'd turned off to get here was called Blue Mountain Road. There in the distance (green arrow is pointing at it) was what is obviously referred to as "Blue Mountain". Not near as big as its Collingwood, ON, area counterpart but an impressive sight nonetheless.
Hector and I suited up and headed for home. By now it was late afternoon and I was getting hungry... and the bottle of vodka I'd purchased at the Rockport Lighthouse was well chilled by now. We motored down our favourite roads, alternating between slush grooves and ice patches, slipping and sliding, hooting and hollering and generally having a good time. I glanced in my mirrors at one point and saw an ATV in hot pursuit behind me, so I slowed to see what he wanted. I'm pretty sure he was one of the ATV's that had passed by me earlier on the Blue Mountain trail, but as I pulled over to stop he turned onto a trail and went blasting off through the woods. Then a few km's later I saw him come flying across a field towards me on an intercept course and I realised he just happened to be going the same way as I was, only he was taking advantage of a few shortcuts. And the race was on! We went zipping down the roads, with him disappearing and reappearing behind me as he took several shortcuts through the woods and fields. He chased me the last 8km into Gan before finally turning into a driveway just before the intersection to the highway. Great fun! But all too soon our day came to an end as I pulled the slush-coated, dirty, steaming Ural into the garage. But at least we'd finally had our first winter ride!

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