Day 6 Kingston to Johnstown

It's true. Tour director Ian Lobb said that Day 6 would be better and that's what happened. This morning, it didn't take 15 k for my legs to kick into gear. My bicycle flew like a gazelle and I had difficulty holding it back.
However I have now moved into the ranks of persons with a sports injury. I don't think that has ever happened to me before. I did break my leg skiing when I was a kid but they didn't have sports injuries in those days - it was just a broken leg. My ankle started acting up on Day 4, and by Day 5 I mentioned to a couple of people that it felt like my tendon was strained. I thought it might need to be wrapped. They didn't seem very worried. One suggested ice, the other that I drink lots of water. So I just powered through it. It's nothing, really.
For the first time I was able to say 'Coming up on your left,' to a couple of people. (That's cycling etiquette for passing.) One of them, unfortunately, had a real injury. Jim Best of Ottawa had a twisted knee from a soccer game with his granddaughter that he then aggravated in a fall on Day 3. That hasn't stopped him from completing the full route every day (unlike me). And speeding up to pass me after I passed him. "It's starting to get sore," he said later. "I'll get through."
One of the great things about Day 6 was the rain. We all thought that a kindly deity was watching out for us when it chose to rain on the night we weren't camping. We stayed in St. Lawrence College in Kingston and revelled in the joy of a bed and a shower after four nights camping. Then it seemed to let up. But as we breakfasted and listened to speeches from Kingston dignitaries (big cheers for Councillor Vicki Schmolka, one of us), it started to pour. We set out to the sound of gently squeaking brakes, guided single file through town by members of the Kingston Cycling Club, and it just got worse. It didn't matter. It was an an immense relief after five burning hot days.
After a long 5-k climb past Fort Henry, the route resolves itself into a steady slog along Higway 3. It dips in and out of view of the lake and offers long moments for reflection on the roadkill that litters the side of the road - goldfinches, squirrels, snakes, flattened out of recognition but for the flutter of a bright feather, the sheen of a bushy tail, the intricate pattern on smooth skin.
Some of us have signed up for a kayaking break with 1000 Islands Kayaking Company of Gananoque. We're so wet it makes absolute sense to go on the water. We learn some basic strokes and we're off, across the St. Lawrence, examining a sunken ship and weaving through the islands. A bonus is that we get shuttled 30 k or so to lunch, repressing mild guilt as the van whizzes past our fellowe cyclists straining at the pedals. Then it's on to Brockville, an attractive town where churches and some of the grander houses are roofed in intricate patterns of slate in two shades of grey and one of red. Time for a quick unveiling of a plaque to mark the achievements on the trail so far and it's back on the road, which seems a whole lot busier.
And so we roll into the Township of Edwardsburgh/Cardinal, where the local council has laid on a lavish reception, complete with free dinner and breakfast, a town crier and a tour of the Prescott grain elevator, an impressive facility built in 1929-30. The port of Prescott is a deep-water harbour that was purchased by the municipality from the federal government for $60 in 2000 and now is the outlets for grain grown in Eastern Ontario, yielding a million dollars a year in profit.
Like an army, a bicycle tour moves on its stomach. The sight of the chicken pieces lined up on the long charcoal barbecue pit operated by Richard Woodland, owner of Woodland Barbecue, was only surpassed by the taste, or so I'm told, being a vegetarian. "Put the chicken recipe on the website," one enthusiastic cyclist urged. "It's a secret," Councillor Hugh Cameron replied.
Cameron emceed an entertaining show involving members of the audience at Johnstown Grenville Park, where we're camping, and feelings of good fellowship abounded, prompting a standing ovation for Cameron, Mayor Larry Dishaw and Councillor Pat Bayeau - folks who clearly enjoy a good time.
Should I tell you how I appear to have mislaid my tent pegs and poles? No, it would make me look too silly. Anyhow, the tour has a spare tent - of course, they have a spare everything - which is five times the size of mine, so it has all worked out for the best.