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SPRING 2017 ISSUE 01 / VOL. 02
Most of Newfoundland is in view of the water, with many small villages dotting the rocky shoreline. many times in the past but this place was memorable for its simplicity and elegance and million-dollar views in every direction. After a five-course lobster dinner I considered my 1,890 miles on the odometer and decided the next day would be my rest day, which still included a short ride to visit the Bonavista Lighthouse where John Cabot“ discovered” North America in 1497.
Most people would stop next in St. John’ s, the wonderful capital of Newfoundland, and based on what I know I would highly recommend it. But on this ride the land, the ocean and the solitude were what I wanted, so I left St. John’ s for another visit. I headed south for the Avalon Peninsula without a particular destination, just enjoying the bike and the open road. I was on Route 10, the“ Irish Loop,” considered one of the island’ s best motorcycle destinations. In the late afternoon I headed down a long dirt road toward the ocean that ended in a little parking lot,
with one ratty camper and two old guys.“ Is it OK to camp here?” I asked.“ Drink this and we’ ll talk about it,” they told me. Sam and Jimmy, friends for 46 years, were hand liners before the 1992 cod moratorium ended generations of the traditional fishing life. For the next seven hours I heard stories about the life of the fishermen in New foundland— many of them true. At midnight I crawled into my tent on the beach with a starry sky, pounding waves and vivid memories of Newfoundland and the friendliness of its people.
I continued south the next day, following the coast road around the Avalon Penin sula. As I rounded the Burin Peninsula I hit the fiercest winds in which I had ever ridden. My 875-pound load was blowing completely out of my lane