Day 56: Miller Lake to Owen Sound (78 km)

As it tuns out stereo touting hooligans aren't the only thing that can steal your sleep in the north country. I woke up at two o'clock this morning to Vanessa grasping my arm and whispering something about bears. Last night we found a very secluded wooded site at the back of a campground. Great for privacy, bad for bears.

Vanessa and I could hear at least two outside our tent (we think maybe three) all of which were curious enough to brush up on the tent and stick their muzzles under the vestibule. They came and went over the course of the next three hours and kept Vanessa and I huddled together with a flashlight and a pocket knife for a large portion of the early morning.

At first we took a strategy of absolute silence. No light, no sound. Once we realized they were sticking around, we wanted to try a different tactic, but were unsure of the approach to take: Should we yell, bang pots, play music, flash lights? At this point with one of the bears sniffing at the base of the tent we got the idea to google it. We are truly products of the digital age.

After surfing a few useless chatrooms we found a government of Virginia site that recommended speaking in a loud monotone voice and producing as much light as you can. I now have a bone to pick with Virginia as this seemed to do nothing but peak their interest. This is when we remembered my fox forty whistle. I don't think they were afraid of it, but having it blown in their ear seemed to be enough to at least put them off.

After an hour or two and a few separate visits they lumbered off, and after a few hours more, we got a touch of sleep. After a light nap interrupted occasionally by howling coyotes, we awoke and were relieved to find that the food packs we hung were intact and our gear was basically unharmed.

Once we finally got underway we had a fairly relaxed day. The ride was flat, scenic and we were treated to a wonderful detour for the last 30 km through country roads. Getting off highway is something we've rarely had a chance to do on this trip.

Something I forgot to put on the blog day of, was that we finally suffered our first flat a few days back after I ran over a staple. Since then I've had recurring flats, the third of which happened about 20 km out of Owen Sound. I'm still not sure whether they're a result of injury to the tire or from the replacement tubes being banged around for the last two months in our panniers, but they're really starting to become a hassle. One of our hosts this evening, Maria, suggested that the high heat on the unused tubes could have been weakening them over time. Whatever the problem, I'm hoping that today's flat is our last. Each one sidelines us for about an hour.