SICK AND STRAGGLING: Part 1 of 2

Have been sick for five days! The first three were brutal. Less so today. That’s why no posts since my last one. Turns out I caught #Covid! Thank goodness for four vaccine shots!

On my second night in Fredericton, July 6, I went to bed with a dry throat and had a mostly sleepless night. Next morning I was supposed to ride about 60 km north to the Crabbe Mountain Inn in Upper Hainsville. But I was exahausted and in no condition to cycle.

Luckily the family that had hosted me for two nights in Fredericton, Carol and Simmy Airst, were incredibly understanding. The husband drove me the entire way to the Inn, with my bike in his trunk. A huge thanks to him and his dynamo wife for all they did!

Once at the The Crabbe Mountain Inn, in Hainsville (but far from anything else), I collapsed into bed.

Had the sweats, loss of appetite, headache, a bit of fever and sore throat. What happened next is comical (in retrospect). That evening the Inn proprietor, John, brought me a light dinner to my room, something they don’t normally do. I ate what I could an watched the latest episode of The Boys on Netflix. Then fell into a fitful sleep. Was waking every hour or so to use the washroom next to my room. Good thing I was the only guest at the Inn that night; I got nauseous and was making bellowing sounds like a wounded moose!

About 4:00 a.m. as I left my room once more for the bathroom, my door locked tight behind me. I’d left my key in the room. Ugh. All the other rooms were locked tight. Thankfully there was a small closet in the hallway with a folded-up cot and blanket. I trundled the cot into the bathroom, set it up, cranked up the radiator, and spent the rest of the night hunkered down in that bathroom.

I spend most of the next day in bed and had to extend my stay a night at the Inn. My second night there was less dramatic but equally drenched and chilled. The Rogers outage made it touch and go to call a cab for the next morning. However one arrived Saturday morning at around 9:30, no mean feat to even find a taxi company in my remote setting.

I plunked my junk in the trunk and off we went. At first I asked to go to Florenceville-Bristol, home of McCain’s corporate headquarters. For many miles on the way there were potato fields all the way to the horizon. Florenceville itself is lovely. On the St John river, tranquil. Still too far from that day’s destination though, a campground in Costigan. We drove to Perth-Andover, and I figured a scenic 20km ride on a nice day would be healthy. Didn’t figure on the last 8 km or so being mostly uphill.

When I finally saw the campground sign I was spent and ecstatic. This was just the beginning, it turns out…