I was back over the confederation Bridge and back in New Brunswick. I was thrilled that hopefully by the end of the day I'd be in Moncton and meeting two friends: my riding buddy Cameron and an old friend who I met in guatemala Etienne. It had been along time since I had actually seen someone that I already knew from before. Unfortuanately I faced the always frustrating task of backtracking down a highway from which I had came. I felt quite tired and considered hitchhiking because I simply wasn't interested in reriding this stretch of road on the ugly wet day it was, also this stretch is where I had that awful night camping and the frustrating flat tire scenario. I said to hell with hitchhiking, I've got a perfectly good bike and so I rode off into the rain.

After four and a half hours I was back in Shediac (pronounced shit-ee-ac) and passing by the giant lobster. From there I had only 25 km or so left to Moncton. It was still dark and raining and the highway from there turned out to be a miserably dangerous stretch of road. Traffic was extremely heavy and the shoulder squeezed vary narrow. It didn't feel safe at all on the dark wet highway so I ended up cycling most of the distance on the loose gravel only taking to the pavement when little or no traffic was passing. This turned the easy 25km section into a gruelling, mud plastering, almost 2 hour ride.

I arrived in Moncton and inquired as to wether there was a hostel or not at the tourist info center. There was but it was full except for the private room for $40 a night. Oh what the hell, sign me up I said and went up to the hostle and checked in. The C'mon Inn was extremely comfortable and the owners Trent and Cindy were extremely hospitable; with only 8 beds it really felt like my own house. My room was incredibly gorgeous with a queen size bed and almost its own bathroom, it was an incredible deal for 40$. I loved it and hated it, sometimes I wish I wasn't so damn cheap but its that incredible cheapness thats spent me less than $1000 on accomadation over almost 4 months of travelling Canada. To my dismay neither of my friends were yet in town but atleast I made some good friends in the hostel. I stayed another night in my luxury suite but still neither of my friends were near.

I decided to leave but had to decide wether to take the direct road to Halifax or the Bay of Fundy Scenic route. I was ready to go the short road until trent told me about Hopewell rocks on the the Bay of Fundy and how it was the best part of New Brunswick. I decided that I had to do it justice as it is my travelling style to try to see the best parts of the places I visit. So off I was onto a quiet country road as it rollercoastered along the coast. I could see the tide was very low leaving huge areas of exposed brown mud along the shore. I arrived at Hopewell Rocks in perfect timing at a very low tide. The place was swarming with camera happy tourists and the admission to the site was 8 dollars. Very dissapointing but after a quick ride around the parking lot it was clear that there was nothing not even a fence to keep people off the trails. So I walked right onto the trails without paying and stashed my bike in a dense patch of forest.

I couldn't believe what I saw down on the beach called Flower Pot Rocks. The tide was near its lowest point and a huge wide beach could be explored. Way up at the top of the beach was high cliffs and sporadic rock towers forming archs and sea stacks. I walked down the beach through rock tunnels and between giant pillars with stranded trees growing on there tops 50 feet above.Many of the towers were precariously narrower towards the bottom and looked as if they would surely crumble in the next winter storm. You could see just how high the tide went on the sea stacks because there were clear lines of errosion where the high tides streamed past two times a day. The Bay of Fundy has the highest tides in the world and the difference between low tide and high tide here was a whopping maximum of 48ft.or almost 15 m. Obviously if you were here at high tide the entire beach was underwater so the only way to see it is by kayak. Just past this beach there was an icredible mud flat. Stretching 6 km. along and one km wide a giant plane of deep brown mud that sat shining in the sun waiting for the next tide to wash back over it.

I spent a couple of hours hiking around and checking out the different views and beaches before I retrieved my bike from the dense forest and continued on my way. Unfortunately I didn't make it far. My progress down coast stopped in a heartbeat as my back wheel began shaking wickedly from side to side.I took it off and examined it, I concluded that it was a problem with the bearing and I dind't have the tools to see anything inside. With no means to repair it myself I stuck my thumb out towards The Bay of Fundy National Park wher I wanted to camp the night. Hitchhiking with a bike is interesting because people want to help you but simply cant squeeze you in most times. Several people stopped but couldn't really help me. A mini van passed that was jammed full of luggage and kids and the people gave me the classic "I'm sorry we want to help you but I don't think we can"look. two minutes later the same van pulled back and out stepped the driver. He was from France but married to an American woman and they lived in Maine with their three kids 3, 5, and, 6. Luckily they had a bike rack so we hung my bike and jammed my bags into the back of the van. I squeezed in and sat on the floor with the dog. It turned out to be an excelent ride because I got into Bay of Fundy National Park on the their permit and they let me camp in their 10 person tent. I knew I was going to end up spending some money to fix my bike so this saved me about 30 dollars ( big money on such a trip). Also togetther in 1998 they did a cycling tour from Texas to the southern tip of Argentina so they gave me valuable insight into what I would be looking at if I made the journey. Man it sounded different than cycling Canada, aside from the obvious troubles of cycling Latin America: theft and violence, difficult border crossings, and cycling under a harsh tropical sun. They told me about rabid dogs that chased and snapped at them, high elevation mountain passes through the Andes that took entire days efforts to climb, and the fierce winds of Southern Chile that sometimes left Cyclists bunkered down in the ditch for days. It sounded wonderful! I got there connection which I think that I have since lost( Yeah hopefully your reading this and you can send me your email because I think Ill be coming your way otherwise Ill try to 411 you when I get there, and big thanks of course).

The next day I headed out on the highway with my useless bike and caught 2 rides up to Sussex where I found a bike mechanic. He couldn't fix it because he didn't have the part but atleast I knew for sure that I had to replace the bearing. I made a sign for Saint John, the largest city in New Brunswick, where I could surely find a bearing and then catch the 3 hour ferry ride across the Bay of Fundy to Nova Scotia. I had a 6km walk out of town to the highway so I decided to stick out my sign while I walked down main street. The third car that drove by pulled up and the guy shouted he could give me a ride. I met him in the parking lot ahead and sure enough I was in Saint John 2 hours later. If only hitchhiking was always this easy maybe I wouldn't have to bike..... yeah right ! all my rides passed in a flash and I hardly saw the scenery at all, yep its for sure now cars most definetly suck for experiencing the places that you travel but hitchhiking is still a giant step ahead. I got dropped on a random corner near downtoen and set out to try to find a bike shop. As soon as I walked around the corner I was at the biggest bike store in town; things were working well for me atleast in some ways. Inside they took by wheel apart and found they had no bearing that might do the trick so I phoned all the bike store in town and then phoned all the bearing manufactures and distributers but found absolutly nothing. There was no hostel in town and I just missed the ferry so I decided to camp in the city wilderness park. But I was in no rush as it was still plenty early so I pushed my bike around and checked things out. The city seemed quite pleasent but slow and not terribly exciting. I had a wierd sleep the night before using my tent as a pillow and my neck had been stiff and sore all day, pushing my heavy bike with my body turned slightly sideways didn't seem to be help so I headed over to the ferry area to lay down and rest. I passed by The Reversing Falls on the way which is a narrows at the mouth of a large inlet from the ocean where the powerful Bay of Fundy tide surges in and out twice a day. Some speradic rocks in the middle of the narrows make for an interesting flow of water as it churns like a waterfall over and around them. A beautiful bridge passes over it and makes for quite a beautiful view. I was there as the tide came in and saw a pretty impressive tidal waterfall but the cool thing is that also when the tide goes and the high water in the inlet drains through the narrows makes a similar tidal waterfal but in the other direction hence The Reversing Falls.

While watching the tide surge through I met a local and she told me there was a midnight sailing to Nova Scotia so I decided to go for it. While walking to the ferry terminal my neck really started to cramp up. it got so bad that I couldn't turn my head at all and then it got so that even while I did't turn my head I would get cruel shoots of pain that made me gringe. Finally I arrived at the ferry terminal, it had been getting progressively worse the entire time that I pushed my bike and I desperately wanted to lay down. Luckily I am very accustomed to pain and I figured that I would be considerably better after some rest so I tried not to let it get me down Upon arrival at the ferry terminal I layed down on the floor inside; even laying down was painful like hell until I found the sweet spot where the muscle would totally relax and sweet relief set in. I slept until the ferry arrived and then borded where I found another spot between two rows of seats to sleep the entire ride. Each time I woke up it was much better. I arrived in Nova Scotia at 4 in the morning at a ferry terminal far from town with my busted bikeand a sore neck. Funny circumstances.

Twice in a row when leaving New Brunswick I've had crappy experiences but that's okay I figure that in a challenging life your bound to face hardships sometimes and after those then the next time is always a little easier. A life without a little pain and hardship is a life with less reward and less appreciation for the privelege of easy and comfortable times that so many people in this modern world like to assume and are happy to accept are the only times.