Winter Cycling in Canada

December 2013 I took the next step in my winter cycle touring experiment by heading to Canada to attempt to cycle the Trans Labrador highway. The Trans Lab claims to be one of the longest stretches of road in Canada without services.

This winter had the coldest December in more than 10 years, bringing with it extreme winds and temperatures down to -40, and of course a sprinkling of snow to keep things interesting.

I did however get to do lots of wild camping in the snow which is great fun.

To read about the trip scroll down to see a copy/paste of the original blog posts.

To just look at the pictures click >HERE<

And to read about the train journey across Canada I did after the cycling click >HERE<

Winter cycling in Canada : pt I

The last couple days stressing in Labrador city were over, bike and gear had arrived complete and fairly undamaged despite the 4 flights and overnight delay. After a short TV interview for CBC I was ready for action.

All my gear for the first 250km leg of the trip from Labrador city to Churchill falls was ready, including food and fuel for up to about 10 days, though I hoped to be done in 5-6. The only thing I was missing was snow shoes, but I’d decided to save space, weight and money by not getting any, hoping the snow wouldn’t be too deep.

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I’d been warned in town that the Trans Labrador highway would be busy with supply trucks, an hour out of town I was only seeing a car or truck every 10 minutes, if only all roads were so busy….

Despite a refreshing temperature of -20 the sunny day and light breeze had me in a good mood, it was awesome to finally be on the road again after a whole summer of work plus the inevitable pre trip stress. By 4pm, just before dark I’d done a respectable 65km, quite a distance considering I had 45kg of baggage and the effect cold has on tyres and my Rohloff hub.

Halfway through setting up camp 20m from the road I started feeling dizzy and sick, my old nemesis BPPV at come back to haunt me. By the time my tent was set up I was feeling so sick I just had to go to bed without dinner hoping I wouldn’t be sick and dehydrate myself further than I already was from the freeze dried environment.

By lunch time the next day I was slowly starting to feel almost human again and was halfway through another 65km day, once again able to enjoy the scenery and wilderness. Well, enjoy what I could see through steamed up goggles. With a mild and sunny -14 it was perfect cycling weather.

Camping that evening was a series of small blunders and hunting for things in the last pannier. This is totally normal for the first week of any trip, sadly in such weather there isn’t much room for error. Fighting with my new Optimus stove was already becoming tedious and I found myself wishing I’d stuck with my old faithful, though with 20,000km of touring use, its just too tired for another trip.

Day three was wake up and smell the coffee day, by the time I was almost dressed my hands were painful from the cold. A check of my thermometer outside the tent showed it was -30, after breakfast I already looked like this.

It was time for the serious business of winter cycling, any blunders now would be life threatening. The cycling was predictably tough in such cold but thanks to a serious tail wind I was still able to cycle about 12km/h on the flat, and while moving didn’t feel too cold. Had it been a headwind it would of been a painful and depressing day of pushing. I was told by a passing motorist that the wind chill temperature was -37.

What does -37 feel like?

Well clothed then cycling is fine, stop and you are cold in a minute  if you don’t add extra layers. Perspiration falling from my mask instantly freezes when it touches my trousers or bike as does warm tea. If I removed my gloves my hands were painful within 30 seconds, I have no idea how I would fix a puncture if its so cold….

The only way to take a slightly longer than 2 minute break was to tramp through the deep snow and hide behind a snow drift.

Too be honest, this day was too much like survival for me, having to be 100% sharp, no room for errors and no room or time to chill out and enjoy the view with a cup of coffee. While cycling there is also no view as you are looking through frozen goggles.

While looking for a camping spot that evening I sank through the snow almost to my chest, with mild panic (read scared to fuck) and a little common sense I was able to get out, but vowed to get snow shoes asp.

Because of the simple blunders the previous evenings my sleeping bag was damper than it should of been, which meant a cold, cold night at -40 wearing most of my clothing, my feet still cold despite 3 pair of socks and a down jacket wrapped around them.

I had to skip a warm breakfast and make do with hot chocolate and crackers as I’d lost my Spork somewhere in the snow, ironically one of the few things I don’t have spare is something to eat with, quite dumb really. Undeterred and after 10 minutes running up and down the road to get my feet warm again I was ready for the last 45km to Churhill falls. It was another beautiful day in Labrador, I was overdressed and too warm to compensate for the previous evening, so the only sign that it was between -30/40 was the my GPS finally quit, I’d been impressed it had lasted so well, Garmin claim it is only good to -15.

Once in town I was happy to pay the $100 for a warm and toasty room and tuck into a huge meal, by 2 pm I started to regret cycling most of the morning without goggles. I’d enjoyed the views but my eyes and nose were now suffering.

Churchill falls is a little creepy in that it is a company town, though the people are very friendly, I was even given a private tour of the huge hydro electric plant.

A check of the weather forecast for the coming week showed that I was in for more of this -40 wind chill non-sense for the coming week, though its possible to survive in such weather its not fun. In a stroke of uncharacteristic common sense I’ve taken a lift to Goose bay, on the coast its forecast to be 5C warmer than inland the coming week, still cold enough to keep me sharp but hopefully with a little more margin to enjoy myself in the wilderness rather than just survive.

Monday I start on the next leg, Goose bay to Port Hope Simpson and basically the main reason I’m here. This leg is about 410km of dirt road. There is nothing in between so I hope to get 40km+ a day done to be done in around 10-14 days.

I therefore have even more food now plus some snow shoes, bringing my baggage close to 50kg…./gulp. Despite the hardships of last weeks warm up I’m really looking forward to getting cracking on what should be 2 weeks of awesome time alone.

Stay tuned…

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Winter cycling in Canada : pt II

Standing at the sign that had inspired this route choice was in theory a symbolic moment, but the frozen hairs in my nostrils and painful fingertips were a reminder that it was -23C, leaving little room for a symbolic gesture or time to set up a nice photo of myself using my fancy camera, instead a quick photo with my phone would suffice as it did during most of the trip.

I put on my face mask and extra gloves and quickly got moving on my overloaded bike to get warmed up again, the adventure into the huge wilderness of the Trans Labrador highway could start.

Within minutes I was warm though frustrated at the now familiar tunnel vision through my steamed up goggles, every minute or so wiping a finger along the inside to create a small window of clear view.

Within a couple of kilometers my gps was once again dead due to the cold and the 10km marker signs stopped around lunch time. Never in all my trips was is more important to know my daily distance than this trip, so this was a little worrying, I went for the obvious tactic of just cycling like a madman all day until just before dark and hope I’d done enough to be done in 10 days or so before my food ran out. At the end of day two I had the brainwave to put my gps in my jacket pocket to warm it then calculate the distance back to the junction, I’d done an impressive 130km in the first two days……time to slow down a little.

Due to the slightly milder weather compared to the previous week it was now possible to take a 10 minute break for lunch, just enough time to cook up some instant noodles or soup, almost civilized touring again.

I would see 4-5 cars an hour, 1 in 10 would stop to ask if I was ok or needed a lift. Even when setting up camp in the evening I had to keep a low profile to prevent people back tracking and trudging through the deep snow to see if I was ok.

All considering, the road for the first two and a half days was in good condition and I started to think I could be through the 400km in about a week, I was slowly starting to find my rhythm and enjoying the camping and time alone in the wilderness away from the hussle and bustle of modern life.

At lunch time on day three it struck me how quiet it was, not even the sound of wind rustling through the trees, no birds or bugs, rarely a car and no hum of a nearby city, motorway or airport. In fact if I held my breath the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat. Imagine the only sound in the world being your heartbeat, it seems unimaginable in our modern noisy world, this was why I’d come to the wilderness, I’d found pure silence.

Though the road deteriorated that afternoon, with many deep icy ruts and tracks I wasn’t too concerned, it was slow going but at least I could see the ruts and negotiate the ruts without slipping around too much. There was no snow forecast and I still had food for 6 days of good eating plus a couple of days dull calories.

I’d found a quiet spot to camp and went to bed content with life and looking forward to the next couple of days in the wilderness, the hypnotic sound of my heart sending me to sleep.

At around 3am I awoke from the silence to a wooosh, woooosh…..” Shit thats snow running off my tent!!”  By morning it looked like this:

There was now 15-20cm of snow covering the road, life was about to get complicated.

Slipping, sliding and bumping over the unseen icy ruts was tedious to say the least, and the idea of a broken wrist or collarbone 4 hours drive by car to the nearest hospital was at the forefront of my mind. I quickly gave up cycling the rough parts, instead choosing to push my bike. Pre trip I’d had heroic images of myself pushing my bike through the snow on such days and maybe still being able to cover 15-20km. The reality of pushing a 60kg+ bike on snow covered ice is far from heroic and just hard, tedious work. It was still snowing and I was beginning to doubt my sanity in choosing to cycle one of the remotest roads in Canada in winter.

My consolation was that I’d passed a work camp the previous day so knew a snow plough should pass at any time to make the road slightly more rideable. An hour later a pickup truck stopped to offer a lift. We agreed that the road was shit and un ridable but I pointed out that a snow plough should pass soon. The passenger then pointed out that he was the snow plough driver from the camp I’d passed the previous day. The snow plough was broken and they were trying to drive the 2 hours to the next work camp to get parts before the road became un driveable.

I’d promised myself not to take any unnecessary risks during this trip, and more importantly as an amateur adventurer I think its important not to get into a situation where locals might have to risk themselves to rescue me from my “holiday”. I was acutely aware of the irony of who was offering the lift and the fact that just maybe this was the last chance of a lift. The images of the winter of 2004(?) when the road was closed for several weeks was at the forefront of my mind.

With a heavy heart and deeply disappointed to be bailing out on day four of what was to be some serious wilderness time I threw my bike and gear into the truck.

The snow stopped an hour later, but the road remained a challenging mess all the way to Port hope simpson.

Emotions and disappointments aside, it was the right an logical choice, but the trip has been hollow since.

More about the remainder of the trip and the perfect Christmas day in pt III 🙂

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Winter cycling in Canada : pt III

After a day off in Port Hope Simpson to recover from my disappointment of having to take a lift for part of the previous leg, it was once again time to hit the road. The beautiful sunrise over the frozen bay did little to bring the temperature above -27.

After around 1000km of similar scenery it was refreshing to be on the coast and see a more changeable landscape, sleepy villages, lakes and a few more hills.

That evening I once again had a quiet night in the woods. The next morning started sunny and felt warm for -20 but by early morning the coastal winds had picked up and soon became gale forced. In my first blog post for this trip I said ” Had it been a headwind it would of been a painful and depressing day of pushing” That is what the morning became, cycling and pushing into the wind at 4-5km/h. I refused several lifts from people accusing me of being crazy. By lunch time the wind had became more gusty and a side wind, regularly blowing me halfway across the road and potentially into other traffic.

As I passed into the highlands there was no more protection from the trees or rocks and before long the windchill(-40/-50) had frozen the damp foam of my goggles to my face and was starting to get painful. I had about accepted that it was time to get off the road and set my tent up for shelter and wait a day till the storm was gone. Just then a pickup stopped and a wise, old looking man said in an almost non-negotiable way “Get in.” He would later write ” Saw this top half of a person through the (snow)drift kinda thought I was losing it ….. man twas an ugly day..” I’d lost the will to fight and humbly accepted my fate, taking a lift all the way to the Blanc Sablon ferry planning to start afresh just before Christmas once the storms had past. Thanks Dennis.

I left St Barbe on Christmas eve, the dockside hotel staff insisting I could take a cabin for Christmas if I wanted, they didn’t want to kick me out for Christmas. But for me the only way to return a little self respect and and recover some of the aims of this trip was to find a perfect spot to camp over Christmas and try to have a quiet day in the wilderness away from the Christmas non-sense.

The ride that day was beautiful and after my 60km I found a small blocked off quarry, out of sight from the world behind an earth wall I found the perfect place to live until boxing day.

The occasional groan of the ice was worrying but I got used to it. Christmas day I relaxed in my beautiful piece of paradise at -20 and spent much of the day preparing the perfect fire for the evening. Wildcamping on ice, campfire, hot chocolate with rum. Tick, tick tick done…..awesome!!

Reluctant to move the next I packed up to try and get some momentum back in my trip. Spending the next couple of days cycling down the lovely Newfoundland coast, often able to have lunch in a local cafe or fuel station.

Gradually the weather got worse, more snow, less visibility and the last leg I really should of taken a lift. Once in Deer Lake I decided I was done, I’d experienced the things I’d wanted to for this trip, learned what I wanted to and the roads where just getting too busy to be cycling on in winter.

Conclusion

This whole winter cycle touring has been an interesting experiment in where my limits lie in cycling and camping in the extreme cold. I now know

-40 cycling and camping are possible but pretty miserable.
-30 cycling is no problem until you need to take a break, camping is a challenge with little room for errors or gear failure.
-20 so long as there isn’t much wind chill then cycling and camping with the right gear is no problem
-15 with the right gear is no different to +15
-5 is miserable because you get all the disadvantages of the wet and the cold………

Before I started this project I had no idea that I’d be comfortable and able to take a rest day in the wilderness at -20 and enjoy it. Quite amazing really.

Physically winter cycling and especially camping is a lot more challenging and there’s not a lot of space for recreation once under -25, then you’re either busy or in your sleeping bag, that said I’m now well rested after my nightly hibernation of 12 hours 🙂

Winter gear is expensive and I can understand that most people aren’t prepared to make the investment for one winter trip.

Winter cycling in Canada

Though possible, the last weeks have shown that a bike is not the ideal means of transport here in winter, more due to the risk you cause to yourself and other motorists than the physical road conditions. Roads are narrower, more slippy and often with poor visibility and people don’t expect to see a cyclist, late or quick reactions from motorists on icy roads are potentially lethal for all concerned.

For now this will be my last trip of this extreme nature and l’m looking forward to some shorter easier trips closer to home the next year or two.

My other and future trips can be followed at www.shanecycles.com

Until then, happy New Year, and I hope it is filled with tail winds and blue skies for everyone.