And The Cat Came Back, . . .

Well, that didn't take long.

Exactly 7 days was all my sister could manage.

It seems Aya did not take well to her  new owner, or at least not as well as we had hoped that she would, and so Aya is comfortably and happily back home with me.

My sister will look after Aya for the 6 or 7 weeks that I am away, and I am quite certain that will be chock full of interesting tales, but I am also pretty happy with that.

It was only a week, but I missed the little bug.

Come next March-April I am going to have to revisit the whole new-home-for-Aya thing if I follow through with my travel plans, but until then we are both much happier with Aya being right here at home with me.
I know it's not completely uncommon, but the silly little critter loves playing fetch with me, constantly bringing me something to throw - when she's in the mood, of course.

So, life here at casa-Enberg is back as it should be, and all is once again right in my world.

Let me mention Friday - my retire-from-work day.

It started at St. Pius X High School where I was once again invited to speak to a class of grade 11 Law students. The announced reason for my being a guest speaker has always been the same over the past 8 years: "Joe is going to share with you his experiences with the legal system."

I have never failed to be unexpected. To give the kids more.

This time though, it was off the charts. I don't know if I went in with a different mind-set due to it being an already significant day in my life, or if it was simply the way it was supposed to be, but the engagement with those kids was so close, so life-to-life that it left me a little awestruck. And very, very grateful.

I spent most of my allotted speaking time encouraging this class of bright young future leaders to find someone to talk to.

About the dark places in their lives.
About the stuff they are not talking to anyone about.

And I used my past as the backdrop.
Alcoholism. Drug addiction. Criminal activity. Jails. Homelessness.

Heavy prices to pay for keeping the dark stuff a secret.
For being scared to name the monster - whatever it may look like.

I wish that I could somehow impart to you as you  read this the feelings that I experienced as I saw that glimmer in her eye, or that pique of interest in his face as we engaged in a back and forth of question and answer.

I think I have found something that I am every bit as passionate about as I am about adventure motorcycle riding.

Sharing my story with our youth.

It was such an incredible way to start my last day of work, and I thank God for the continued opportunities.

I left St. Pius X at noon, feeling full and empty at the same time. Both invigorated and exhausted.

I drove to Shepherds, parked my car and knew as I was walking through the parking lot that it was going to be a short and emotional visit.

I spent the next hour making the rounds and saying so-long to the myriad people who have touched and impacted my life in that environment of mixed feelings and conflicting personas.

I will remember my days spent at the Shepherds of Good Hope for the rest of my life. Most of them, quite fondly.

I don't think you can ask for more than that.


Now, a final piece of housekeeping. I am going to be traveling a lot this summer and with my travels come all of the expected - and many unexpected experiences. Which, of course, I will be writing and blogging about.

The problem is, I am currently trying to keep two blogs current! And as you have noted over the years - I suck at it.

So - if I may ask - please make a note of my other blog on the ADVJOE website:

http://advjoe.ca/blog/

I will be keeping that one up-to-date on a regular basis as I travel, and I will be treating it as my blog, not just advjoe's blog. The type of stuff that I write here, I will be writing there. So if you are, for some unknown reason still following me here (and I really hope that you are, my faithful few), well, now you have somewhere else to follow me.

This is starting to sound like a Genesis song. . .(or the best Cineplex ad they have ever come up with - remember the one with the young girl, the snow man and the freezer?)

Ok. It is now the first Wednesday - I can no longer call it hump day - of the season of my contentment. I think that means I have to shower today,. . .or shave, . . or something . . .

Later folks,

There was Darkness. . .

Something happened in the fall of 2015 that I never considered possible.

Something so completely out of my left field that had you told me in August that it was coming, I would have laughed out loud.

It is pretty apparent, I believe, that I am a generally happy guy.

Gregarious, some may say.

And why not? I have a lot to be happy about - and grateful for, after all.

Early one morning in late September of 2015, I noticed it was gone.

The happy, easy-to-get-along-with Joe was nowhere to be found.

I was spending way more time than usual 'taking naps'

My bikes sat in the garage through the entirety of the week, and sometimes all weekend long as well.

The things in my life that used to bring me joy, weren't.

Whaddafuk?

It all came to a glaring point for me at 0635 one morning as I was pulling into the parking lot at work and verbally snapped at a client who was not following my direction.

Like I am some kind of authority or some shit.

15 minutes later I was in the HR office asking for the contact information for our EAP, or Employee Assistance Program.

By the end of the day I had an appointment set up.

By the end of the next day I had been diagnosed as suffering from depression.

I'm sorry, what?

Me? Depression? Not friggen' likely. No way. Uhn uh.

That mysterious ailment afflicts other people. People less happy than I am. But not me.

No way it had hit me.

Boy, had it ever hit me.

And everything that I had ever heard about depression proved true: you do not see it coming, you do not acknowledge that it is here and you do not have the energy to do a fucking thing about it on your own.

At least, those were all true for me.

Thank God that I just followed my gut and contacted EAP that morning.

I ended up having to take some time off work, and I attended therapy regularly and followed all of the suggestions given me by my therapist.

And not too much later I was able to return to work.

What a strange, heavy dark cloud it was that had settled over me for a time.

It seems that I had some unresolved issues surrounding grief.

Feelings that I neglected to talk about or share with the people that I love and trust.

Feelings that I had just tried to stuff, or ignore.

Man, you would think that a guy with my past, with my fairly deep understanding of the benefits of talking about what is going in in my life would have done just that.

It is the centre-point of recovery for gods sake!

But I hadn't. Or at least, not enough.

So the message for me - and maybe for you as well - is that I really do need to talk about the things that are going on in my life. Not just the good stuff, or the exciting stuff.

But the shitty stuff too.

The things that pain my heart deserve to be spoken, and I deserve to heal.

I am one of the truly lucky ones. I mean that. I am really, really fortunate.

My dark cloud lifted, and it did so very quickly. If I had to guess, I would say that I truly suffered for no more than 8 weeks.

I came away from the experience with a deeper understanding of depression, and a much greater understanding of how debilitating it is.

I also came away from the experience reminded of something: it is vital, for my well being, that I try to remain grateful every day of my life. And when I feel like things are going shitty, if I simply remember how grateful I am that I did not have to use today, the shittyness seems less significant.

If you, or someone you love suffers from depression please reach out and speak to someone. As the saying goes, the life you save just may be your own.

Peace,

From There to Here

As I mentioned in the previous post, 2016 brought with it a really good riding season for me.

I explored a lot of familiar territory in Frontenac, Lanark and Renfrew counties and I also explored some new areas in western Quebec.

I even took it a step further and explored the most remote regions of an entirely different country.

On an entirely different continent.

I suffered the usual mishaps: lots of low-to-no speed ‘offs’ (this is what we like to call it when we drop our bikes while moving at less than 10 kilometers an hour.)

The most impressive of those was an evening ice-cream stop in the Byward Market with Ryan. We decided to hooligan-park up on the sidewalk beside the Beavertail shack and I promptly dropped Betty to the sidewalk while hopping the curb. My pride wasn’t too sorely injured though – there were only about a hundred onlookers, hahahaha...

Of course the most dramatic of my mishaps occurred on the above-referenced out-of-country adventure.

Myself and 5 other riders met in Quito, Ecuador to take part in one of the incredible adventure-riding packages offered by Ecuador Freedombike rentals.

On day 3 of a 6 day ride I sent my DR650 into a low-side slide at approximately 50 or 60 km/h, which ended in a spectacular high-side and me flying through the Ecuadorian rain forest like a howler monkey.

The bike took a bit of damage. I took a bit of damage. The adventure continued.

You can read all about that trip, and see some pretty great photos here if you wish.

I took part in the Fundy Adventure Rally for the second year in a row. (and broke my 3^rd rib of the season)

I went to the Horizons Unlimited Ontario event and was given the opportunity to present on my Trans-Lab adventure of the year before.

I traveled to the most remote regions of northern and eastern Quebec, completing one of the most iconic motorcycle adventure rides on the North American continent – the Trans Taiga.

I dipped Big Ethel into the frigid waters of James Bay.

I mean, it was a really great season.

I intend to highlight some of last season’s adventures over the next few posts, but I also want to highlight some of the other bits of life that have happened since August of 2015.

After all, it isn’t all rainbows and puppy dogs. Or motorcycles and good times.

For now, know that I am happy here, behind the keys, sharing some of my life with you. I am learning more and more that it is not what we have, but what we give away – or share – that matters most.

You have the luxury of deciding to stop reading whenever the thought occurs.

I have the luxury of having lived, and enjoying the catharsis of writing.

I have had a wonderful day today, and my hope is that you have as well.

Peace.

Here I go again on my own . . .

Man, time sure does fly. . .

It has been a really long time since I last posted to this blog.

Not because I have had nothing to say. In truth I have said quite a lot.

But I was saying it here, on my other blog. A blog that my friend James and I started in late 2015 as an experiment, or maybe a project is a better term for it.

James was looking to expand his skill set at the time, and website design was something that he thought might be fun.

When asked if I would like to have a website created and maintained, basically for free – his guinea pig, if you will – I readily accepted.  I mean, let’s be honest, even if it didn’t work, I’d lose nothing, and stood to gain, well, a really nice website.

And a really nice website is exactly what James created.

A place to host a new blog, write product and equipment reviews, host a photo and video gallery and so much more.

We had about 10 followers that first week – some of you among them.

By the time we go around to posting the blog and video’s of my Ecuador Adventure, we were up to over a thousand.

James created a truly great site for the adventure-interested motorcycle rider, and also for the aficionado of the Dakar rally.

His in depth background, and personable coverage of the 2016 Dakar is, I dare say, amongst the best to be found on the entirety if the world-wide web.

And then, we went quiet.

The 2016 riding season unveiled itself from beneath the receding snow of a winter that came in softly and gently, and became truly brutal in its longevity.

By late April I was itching to ride, and riding is exactly what I did. 

Some 30,000 kilometers rolled beneath my tires before Mother Nature once again forced my hand, and demanded that my bikes be stored yet again while she threw us into another long, cold season of discontent.

It was another great season of riding for me, and it was a great summer for adventure of a different kind for James.

You see he likes Zodiacs in much the same way as I like bikes.

Which is to say that during the warm-weather months James lives on the water.

And so it was that we let the ADVJOE website gather dust. We were both just having way too much fun pursuing our passions to stop and hunker down over the keyboard.

And now, here I am. Back where I started, and in some ways, back where I belong.

You see, I thought, for a while at least, that it would be really cool to have a world class adventure motorcycling website – and in truth it was.

But it takes a lot of work. I mean, it really, really takes a lot of work. And you kinda need to know something about building, designing, promoting, supporting and maintaining a website.

Of which I know very, very little.

So the ADVJOE website will continue to gather a little dust. Not entirely ignored, mind you. I just have to decide what to do with it. I may pare it way down, and simply use it as my motorcycle adventure-related blog site. I just don’t know yet.

I do not have the skills to maintain the website as it is, with all of it's various plug-ins and radio buttons and grapple grommets and filbert flanges.

But I do know how to write. I can put together a fairly interesting blog post, add some interesting pictures, and in doing so satisfy my need to share some facet of my life and my adventure with the world on a very small scale.

And just maybe, satisfy the craving of the odd reader or two for inspiration. Wanderlust. Adventure. Introspection.

A hell of a lot has happened since I last tapped these keys.

Over the coming weeks, and months I intend to share a lot of those happenings with you.

It feels good to be back.

Joe

Happy Birthday Mom...

There was a lot going on for me today. A myriad of thoughts, and emotions running through my brain and my heart.  

Today is my mom’s birthday. And I really miss her. She headed off on the next stage of her adventure – whatever that may be - a little less than a year ago.

And I have found myself missing her every day since. 

 

See, I am not entirely clear, even in my own thoughts, about what I believe happens after we leave this earthly existence. I just know that I do not believe it’s over.

And with that belief, I am able to feel mom close to me whenever I need her. And that suits me just fine.

So happy birthday mom. Whatever you did today, I hope that you enjoyed it.

But truth be told, my mom was not the only woman on my mind today.

No, this morning and early afternoon was reserved entirely for the new lady in my life, named Suzi (yes, as a tribute to my dear friend, Susie)

I picked her up from the dealership where I get all of my maintenance and repair work done – Motor Sports World – yesterday evening. The mechanics had completed her safety check, installed new rubber, chain and sprockets, and given her a clean bill of health.

And today was the day where we got to know each other a little better.

I spent a few minutes bolting on her Ontario licence plate, as well as an aluminum skid-plate, at 0730 this morning, and by 0815 we were gallivanting down River Road towards the Tim Horton’s in Manotick where I was to meet up with my buddy Jason.

We were going to go out and spend the day in the Limerick Forest, a favorite riding area of mine.

You may recall reading that Big Ethel and I have spent quite a lot of time riding in the Limerick – there are even a couple of videos out there in YouTube land I believe, but in truth they are pretty boring.

Today, however, was anything but.

Now, understand that Jason is a friend of mine. We have ridden together on a several occasions and I have always enjoyed it. Jason is a good rider, but he is not a dangerous rider, so I felt very secure in having him lead the way while my new mount, Suzi and I, followed his track.

Ya, my opinion of Jason began to change rather quickly. I guess he decided that trial-by-fire was the only way to go, because less than 100 meters after entering the Limerick forest on a two-track, atv-type trail Jason had veered off into the woods on a single track rut through trees barely wide enough to allow my handle bars to clear.

Muttering under my breath while doing my best not to lag too far behind, I finally decided to just relax and let Suzi do her thing. She is, after all, a much more nimble – and svelte – machine than Big Ethel is. Almost 200lbs lighter, with an off-road setup and almost 11 inches of ground clearance, Suzi is able to do a whole lot of things that Ethel just can’t. But then, that is why I got her, after all.

I began to get comfortable with the terrain – and Suzi – quite quickly, and before we had completed a second circuit through the bush loop I was able to keep up with Jason quite well. I stopped calling him very rude names under my breath, and began really paying attention to his line and riding style, deciding that the old axiom rings true.

If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

Well, approximately 4 hours later, I was done. Wiped. Spent. Exhausted. Wore-the-fuck-out.

I had discovered on a couple of different occasions just how much easier Suzi is to pick up than Big Ethel, and found myself very happy with her mannerisms and capabilities – though let’s be honest, it is my capabilities that need work – I cannot even approach all of the things that Suzi is very capable of doing.

Yet.

Today’s ride was an amazing introduction into the world of true dual-sport riding for me. And I have to say, I absolutely loved it.

I am going to practice as much as I can over the next few weeks, and then Suzi and I are off to the Fundy Adventure Rally where I will attempt to really stretch her legs, and see what she’s got.

Big Ethel, I mean no disrespect. You are still my #1 dance partner – Suzi will never compare to your moves in the twisties.

And mom, I miss you daily, and love you with all of my heart.

Happy Birthday.

             

There have been some changes...

I must apologize for neglecting this blog, and my faithful readers.

I have been focused on a new project - one more centered on the main passions in my life - adventure motorcycle riding and travel.

My friend James decided, about a month ago, to learn a new skill-set. He decided that he wanted to become well versed in the art of website design and development, and subsequently asked if he could use me, and my adventures, as his first project.

Well, I can tell you that the results are nothing short of amazing.

James has created a website for me, http://advjoe.ca/ that is so much more than just a place for me to host my blog.

With James' know-how (and very quickly broadening skill-set) and my passion for writing, this new website is growing into a wonderful new project write before my eyes. (did you catch that-  pretty smooth, huh?)

There are product reviews, posts about my adventures, photos, links to adventure-motorcycle related media and events, and much, much more is yet to come.

But where does that leave my first born, this blog that allowed me - no, invited me, to delve into the arena of writing for readership?

Not to worry. What I've Learned Along The Way will continue to be the place where I post from my heart.

My more personal, close-to-home-and-heart writings about my life, my love's and my continued rambunctious journey through this wonderful second-chance-at-life will be hosted right here, right where they belong.


I will get back to writing more about addiction, and the recovery there-from, and the beauty that resides in an awakening.

My motorcycle-related writings, however, will live in a larger, more welcoming new home that has been designed and built around them, and for them.

I hope that you find something of interest in both places, and will do my best to give you just that.

So thank you, for your continued patience. I invite you now to come along, join me in this adventure that is life. . .

Oil Changes, Having a Gander, and Run, Dildo Run...

I awoke to the smell of coffee and Dave saying "I make it but I don't serve it. Find a mug, pour a coffee, breakfast will be ready shortly"

I enjoyed touton for the first time (delicious) and after breakfast we began to get our gear organized for the next stage of the adventure.

In typical Murph fashion Dave asked if there was any maintenance needed on any of our 3 bikes. Knowing that I was due for an oil change, I mentioned as much, and a few minutes later found myself riding to the local Suzuki dealership about 10 minutes away. A light rain began to fall as I walked into the motorcycle shop, and it quickly turned into what looked to be an all day kind of downpour.

I tossed 6 litres of oil and 2 filters into my SHAD waterproof luggage and returned to Murph's so that Mike and I could each complete an oil change on our V Stroms.

We left Murph's at around 11:00 am after completing the two oil changes.Again, I consider this to be  a testament to Murph and the openness and willingness to help that is just a part of the way of life on the island.

As was pointed out several times, 'it can be rough life and we looks after our own.' 

As someone from away I get the feeling that once welcomed on the island, you become 'one of our own' for the duration of your stay.

The overcast skies began to drop some rain on us as soon as we got on the highway, and threatened more the further we traveled. In short time we stopped for lunch at a highway gas station / restaurant where we met another adventure rider seeking solace from the elements.

Max was 110 days into a 'round-the-world adventure (RTW) He had ridden his Suzuki DR650 from Atlanta to California to Alaska to the Yukon, across Canada to the Trans-Lab highway to Labrador to Western Newfoundland to Saint John's and was now heading to Nova Scotia.

Max intended to head south from there, to home in Atlanta for a week or a month before continuing on, either to south-east Asia or South America - at that point he had not yet made up his mind.

If you would like to read more of Max and his adventures, you can follow him here on ADV Rider

We had a great meal and conversation with one another and then carried on, heading toward Gander.

We got underway in heavy overcast skies and before even hitting the Trans Canada Highway the rain began to fall, and boy oh boy did it fall. We rode in a veritable deluge for 2 hours plus, and once it stopped we found ourselves in some of the densest fog I have seen since my childhood, sailing through the north Atlantic on a schooner.

We quickly lost sight of each other - visibility was 20 to 30 feet at best.

This lasted another 45 minutes or so and then, glory be upon us, the sun broke through!

We rode in glorious sunshine for the duration of the afternoon, eventually arriving at the aviation museum in Gander where we stopped to snap a few photos.

                                     
After a short break we headed north on highway 330 to 331 and then on to highway 340 towards the Twillingate area. We decided to stop for the night at Dildo Run Provincial Park which is actually a great little spot with showers, beautiful, well groomed campsites and wonder-of-wonders, WIFI,  all for $18.00 a night.

                                         

Interestingly, Dildo Run Provincial Park is located in the small community of Virgin Arm.

Go ahead and try to tell me that there is not a story behind that!

All in all, it was a really full, and long day. I found myself setting up my tent, spreading my sleeping bag out, thinking 'man, touton sure would go well in the morning'


Up next - Lloyd Colbourne, Splitting up and Topsail

Off the Beaten Path...

Stephenville was an interesting stop along our journey - due to both the physical landscape of the area as well as our first real clash of personalities.

Michael and I had a minor row, pissed each other off, and that was pretty much that.

In the morning, we quickly touched back on the subject, agreed to try not to actively push each others buttons, and packed up our gear with a hand shake and a pat on the back.

For our first night camping, I have to say that it was somewhat less than ideal. I mean, we were camping in a parking lot, with no camp fire, and little to shield us from the 30-40 kmh winds blowing in off of the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

                                                      Parking lot camping in Stephenville

The morning's ride would bring smiles to all of our faces.

We left Stephenville and rode highway 480 - the Caribou Trail -  east for about 49 kilometers before leaving the asphalt for a gravel forest road.

 This was the kind of riding that we had come to the island to do, and Big Ethel was just raring to go. I stayed with Mike and Jeff for about the first 15 kilometers, but the 45 kmh pace that they were setting just wasn't doing it for me, so I gave my right grip a twist and flew off down the trail, stopping whenever I lost sight of them in order to let them make up some ground. Big Ethel actually becomes more manageable in the bumpy, loose stuff when she is moving at speed - many riding companions have repeatedly drilled it into me that inertia is my friend in many off road situations, and this basically straight gravel and dirt forest trail was one of them.

Another benefit to my picking up the pace and racing ahead was that it allowed me the opportunity to get some candid shots of the lads.

I had an absolutely great time blasting down the trail, and by the time that we came to the end of the road, just past Red Indian Lake, we were getting ready to find something to eat. We followed Buchan's highway to Badger and stopped at a small mom and pop diner known as Helen's Restaurant and Motel. It was here that Mike decided to really become adventurous as he ordered the deep fried cod tongues for lunch.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Apparently no part of the fish is wasted here in Newfoundland, lol. They cut  the rather large tongue right out of the cod fish and serve it up, pan fried, deep fried, broiled, baked...you name it, they have a way to serve it.

                                                        Michael enjoying deep fried cod tongue

After lunch we headed back out on the TCH heading for St. John's.

It only got gloomier and colder the further east that we rode, and by the time that we were at Terra Nova we pulled over to put on another layer of gear.

I took this opportunity to put on my BMW Motorrad 1 piece rain gear for the first time...

...and discovered that it provides a wonderfully warm layer to my riding gear. I have not yet tested this banana suit out in the rain - that will likely come on Wednesday as the forecast is calling for rain right across the island.

After a long 455 kilometers of riding the slab, we finally arrived in St. John's at about 7:30 in the evening on Saturday night. Cold to the bone and every joint stiff, I was not feeling 100% up to par, and although we had lodgings provided to us by another ADV Rider member known as damurph (Dave) - I was not prepared to spent yet another night around a bunch of alcohol  - I needed a break from having it right in front of me every night - I opted to grab a hotel room downtown.

A night at the Delta Hotel, with a hot tub, a sauna and a swimming pool was exactly what I needed to get back in the groove.
I took a stroll down by the harbor, looking at all of the fishing vessels and enjoying the smells of the sea, as well as some of the liveliness of Water Street, before returning to the hotel and getting a wonderfully good night's sleep.

It felt good to be in St. John's - and I was really looking forward to tomorrow...

Up next - Living with a Local...

Riding the Cabot Trail

Our first full day of riding on the Cabot Trail was nothing short of spectacular. I am not really going to be able to do the experience any justice by trying to describe it, so I will let some pictures do that job.

Suffice to say that this is probably the most incredible motorcycle riding – as far as being picturesque, technical, and jaw-dropping that I have ever done.

Don’t get me wrong – I loved the Rockies and Canada’s west coast – I plan on returning there next season – but this is a whole other level of incredible. The vistas, the twisties, the whoops and hills and sweepers – and the people – all combine to make Cape Breton a motorcycle nirvana.

We rode the Cabot Trail clockwise as far as Meat Cove – a must see location for motorcyclists and adventurists alike – and even attempted a really gnarly atv trail that leads all the way up to the top where an old light house used to stand.

Well, one bike went down, and the lighthouse is no longer there, so after riding part way up on Big Ethel simply as a point of ‘it’s there, I gotta’, I turned around and we headed back to the Trail to continue with our day. We ended up turning back towards the Cornerstone Motel as the skies were getting pretty dark and ominous looking, and twisted the throttles a little wider for the return trip to the motel.

Some pics from the day below:

Mike’s bike, Harley, taking a nap on the Meat Cove Trail

The view at Meat Cove

Sunset in Cheticamp

Mike and Jeff on the Cabot Trail

The Cabot Trail

 

Up next…From Cheticamp to the Rock

Hello, are we reaching?…

Have I mentioned that wifi is spotty? That in general, the internet service east of Quebec kinda sucks?

Ya, well…it does.

So I have been keeping a hand written journal. And I am now almost 60 pages in…

So, let’s catch up a little, shall we?

When last we spoke, I had just arrived in Cheticamp at The Cornerstone Motel owned by my friends Greg and Cathy. I will continue from there - adjusting the post dates to reflect when these should have gone up...

Greg and Cathy bought the property in Cheticamp 2 years ago after basically selling everything they owned and leaving Ottawa in a leap of faith to pursue their dream.

The motel, and the home that also sits  on the property, were run down and in disrepair. Both were in need of some love and attention.

And from what I saw over the 2 days while I was there, Tripper ‘n Tomboy are exactly the right couple for the job.

Part of the Canadian Motorcycle Cruisers, or CMC, riding family, Greg (Tripper) and Cathy (Tomboy) had a dream of opening a motorcycle-friendly motel somewhere scenic and where the niche existed to be filled.
They looked throughout Ontario and found nothing that made them feel home, or that did not require a minimum half-million dollar investment.

So they thought outside the box.Or at least, outside of Ontario...

If you want to own and operate a niche-market enterprise like a motorcycle-friendly motel, why not look to motorcycle-traveller hotspots?

The Cabot Trail is as hot a motorcycle-traveller location as you are likely to find in Canada, and the Cornerstone Motel was just sitting there, waiting to be found.

The new owners of this beautiful little piece of Cape Breton Island are bikers. Both share a passion for experiencing the open road on 2 wheels, and they will, therefor, no doubt be successful in their endeavour.

 As a matter of fact, though not yet ready to operate at the full capacity of 17 rooms, the 11 rooms that are ready were all sold out both Thursday and Friday nights.

Greg and Cathy both had a smile, and I am sure they shared a moment in private – the realization of a dream – as they hung the No Vacancy sign.

Well done my friends. You deserve the best, and your hard work is bringing it to you.


I encourage you, my few faithful readers, to please stop in at the Cornerstone Motel in Cheticamp should you ever find yourself there. And if you know anyone who is planning on riding the Cabot Trail, there is no better staging location. The motel sits literally 500 meters from the entrance to the park.


And two of the view just as you enter the park, less than 3 minutes from the motel…

Next up…riding the Cabot Trail…

Playing in the mud, and finding serenity…

We awoke to a gorgeous morning, the sun burning off the haze and the air already warming at 0700.
After a quick breakfast of bacon and eggs we hit the road towards our first destination of the day – Hopewell Rocks at the Bay of Fundy.
Having never been there before, I was eager to see this natural wonder, and I can assure you that I was not disappointed.
We walked down to sea level and spent some time gazing at the rock formations before I went right down to the water and stood in 6” of Fundy mud. I just can’t seem to stay out of the stuff…if I see mud, I gotta get in it, lol.
Being as small a world as it is, it was not overly surprising that we should run into some friends from Ottawa.
It seems that the 75th anniversary Motor Maids Convention is happening in Moncton this week, and a couple of ladies from the CMC 011 were also traipsing through the mud at Hopewell Rocks. As it turns out, there were probably in the neighbourhood of 50 Meter Maids there, which was actually really cool to see.
We eventually left Hopewell and headed towards Port Elgin where we got on a little 2 lane following the shoreline, shortly arriving at the base of the Confederation Bridge where we turned on our action cams and filmed the crossing.
It is a really long, and fairly high bridge, and it is interesting to cross, but as I said to the guys it would be more interesting if it had a steel-grid deck, lol.
Arriving on PEI, Michael had a plan in mind and opted to take the lead. A short, but beautiful ride later saw us in the small seaside village of North Rustico, and Michael led us to his destination – some seaside rental cabins complete with 3 beds, a deck and a BBQ.
It took all of 3 minutes for us to decide to head into town in search of a grocery store, and in very short order the grill was sizzling and smoking with the wonderful smells of barbequed steak.
We all ate well, and now, at 2100, find ourselves in our own, individual places of contentment and serenity.
I can tell you, finding yourself in a seaside fishing / tourist town on Prince Edward Island means serenity is at your doorstep. I am very, very happy at this moment…
Some pics from today:
Hopewell Rocks

Playing in the mud…

North Rustico

Tomorrow we head to Cape Breton Island along the coastal route of Nova Scotia.
Ok, my belly is full,…it’s time for a walk.
Hope you are enjoying the journey so far…

Joe

There may be some rain…

Day 2
The morning started off as well as the evening ended yesterday.
A hot shower followed by homemade waffles with fresh strawberries, some orange juice and nice strong coffee was the way today started.
Have I mentioned that our hosts for night #1 were amazing

The fact that a steady rain was falling by 0800 was almost insignificant.

We got underway at 0915, and Claude-Olivier decided to hop on his VFR and ride with us for the first hour or so. He led us along highway 289 through Pohenegamook to Riviere Blue – and at one point we were less than a stones-throw from being in the USA. Highway 289 runs right on top of the border for a few hundred meters….I made a mental note of that for future reference, lol.

By the time that we got to Edmunston, NB the rain had stopped, and within 20 minutes the warm air had all but dried us out completely.

We stopped at the Tourist information centre just inside the New Brunswick line and I picked up my first Provincial sticker to place on my Pelican Case. Ya, I know…technically I should have picked up a Quebec Provincial sticker, but really – I am in Quebec all the time, so it just didn’t seem to count.

We stopped in Grand Falls New Brunswick to get gas, have a coffee and visit – yes – the Falls.

Actually a very scenic spot, we snapped a couple of pics and then got back underway. We got on highway 108 and proceeded to make our way clear across the province to Shediac. Some incredible scenery and a couple of deer were the highlights of the journey – that is, until the skies opened up on us. We rode through an absolute torrential downpour for 15 minutes or so, just long enough to get soaked again, before the sun came back out and proceeded to dry us off. Well, almost, anyway.

When we were an hour or so out of Shediac the skies dropped on us once again, and this time there was no quarter given by Mother Nature. The water fell in sheets and collected on the highway in what felt like 2” deep puddles, washing up over our boots and soaking our feet in a near constant assault. At one point we pulled over under an overpass, hoping to wait it out, only to discover that we were travelling in the same direction as the rain. There was nothing to do but grin and bare it, so that is exactly what we did.

How did my $100.00 one-piece BMWMotorrad rain suit fare in the onslaught, you ask?
I cannot say. Because I did not put it on in time to try it out. By the time that we stopped under the overpass to take a minute to gear up we were already so soaked that it would have been nearly impossible to get into my new rain gear.

Oh well,…I will try to be better prepared for the next downpour.

One would think that the rain would have been the low-point of the day, but no,…not today. We arrived at the address of our host for the evening only to discover that ‘Bob’ was not home. Soaking wet, camping was, for me at least, out of the question. There will be ample opportunity to camp in the wet and the rain while on the Tran-Labrador highway, I am sure – so while the option to sleep in warm dry bed exists, I am going to take advantage of it. As an aside, my travelling partners did not loudly object to staying in a motel, and that is where we sit now, chowing on pizza, chatting about the day, and planning for tomorrow.

Here are a couple of pictures from today – one of the first ‘Fail’ of the adventure – Michael lost one of his auxiliary driving lamps on a really bumpy stretch of road.
The other is self-explanatory – trying to wait out the rain, unsuccessfully of course…


Tomorrow is a bit of a ‘FREE-DAY’ and we plan on heading down to the Bay of Fundy to check out the tides. Other than that, well, I guess we will find out tomorrow.
I hope that you are enjoying the adventure so far…God knows we are
Joe

Mitas, you make good tires

I now have a little over 650 kilometers on the set of Mitas E07 Dakar tires that I had mounted on the rims of my V Strom 1000 last Wednesday.

The Dakar version of the E07 have a 4 ply side wall as opposed to the 3-ply of the standard version, making them substantially stiffer – and more resistant to sidewall tears and pinch flats. This is the main reason that I chose this particular version of the E07 tire, as I will be riding an 8000 kilometer Epic East Coast and Trans Lab Adventure in July, and the Trans Lab can be hard on tires – or so I have heard.

Up until this week, I have been riding on the stock Bridgestone Battlewing tires. All in all, the stock rubber are a satisfactory road tire. They provided good grip in hard cornering, and I was never afraid to lean the big girl over in the twisties. Wet traction was likewise satisfactory – though not as confidence inducing as on dry asphalt. They also managed most gravel and hard packed dirt fairly well, especially considering they are an 80 / 20 tire.

Where the stock rubber failed, of course, was mud. Big Ethel ended up laying on her side on several occasions after rolling around in the mud on various local adventures, and I came to expect that if we were going to be riding in any slick stuff, I was going to be picking her up.

For the last 2 days, I have been putting the Dakar’s through the paces.

I spent the first 100+ kilometers riding asphalt on a warm Thursday afternoon. The temperature was hovering around the 30 degree-celsius mark, and I knew that 100 kilometers of super-heated asphalt would be enough to scuff-in the new rubber.

I headed west from Ottawa on the 417 to Calabogie Road, and it was on that fine little piece of blacktop that I first got up the nerve to lean over on these almost-knobby tires.

So far, so good. Running at just a little over the speed limit, and accelerating fairly hard while leaned over coming out of some of the grin-inducing curves along the 508, I never once had a feeling of anything other than ‘hey, I like these tires’.

After about 106 kilometers of asphalt riding, I turned south onto highway 511 and made my way to the Barryvale road trail head of the K&P Trail. It was time to see what these tires were like in mild-to-medium off road conditions.

I am still smiling when I think about those first impressions.

I am not one to take it easy and pussy-foot around a new product, handling it with kid-gloves lest it disappoint too quickly. No, I like to see how my new purchase is going to perform – whatever the item.

And in this case – boy, do they perform.

Admittedly, I only have the stock rubber as a benchmark for a comparison. So it is no surprise that I really liked the way in which these new 50 / 50 tires handled the K&P Trail. But let me tell you – I think that my impressions are real-world accurate.

The K&P Trail is a re-purposed rail bed that is now a multi-use trail. As such, it has quite a bit of everything scattered along its length – from pretty deep water crossings to deep, loose gravel to thick mud to sand to slick mud to shale to river stone and everything in between. And these new tires handled all of it without so much as a single ‘holy-crap-that-was-close-butt-cheek- clenching’ moment.

I went through the water crossings with the confidence of my KLR riding buddies, flew through the loose gravel at the posted 50 kph speed limit, navigated the mud-holes without once getting squirrely, and had the time of my life.

This is how riding a big adventure bike is supposed to feel!

I exited the trail on Thursday at South Lavant Road and headed back towards Ottawa. By now I was so happy – and confident – with these new tires that I thought it was time to really push them on the asphalt – and S. Lavant road is just the place to do that. One of the more exhilarating stretches of asphalt in the Lanark region, this little road has some of the tightest hairpin-like twisties to be found, most of them starting on the uphill side of the many, many steep hills that pepper this road like some far-fetched creation of an old roller-coaster designer. I have no idea why S. Lavant road was engineered and laid out the way that it was-  but I sure am happy with the result.

I pushed Big Ethel, and the Mitas E07’s, as hard as I felt comfortable  - and safe – in doing. And just like the manner in which they left me smiling on the trail, the E07’s left me smiling on the asphalt.

I am not a track-day rider. I am not a 120 kp/h on the off-ramps rider. But I am an enthusiast. And I do seek a thrill.

I am pretty sure Big Ethel and I will be finding those thrills on Mitas E07 Dakar’s for quite some time.

Joe Enberg

Life, love, death, and where do we go from here?

Seems like I only tap away at the keys anymore when something substantial happens. Not that there is anything wrong with that – it just seems like some of my drive to write has disappeared on me, only surfacing when I have something that I really need to get out.

So here goes.

Today is October 10, 2014. Or, as I will always remember it, 10-10-14. More truthfully, I will always remember it as the day on which the most wonderful woman in my life ventured off on the next stage of her journey.

My mom passed away at 08:55 this morning.

And I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

Which may sound odd – harsh even. But consider this. I had the privilege of spending each and every day for 3 months with mom while recuperating from my broken ankles. 3 meals per day. Visits with each-other that many, if not most adult children and their parents do not have the opportunity to experience. And enjoy.
I mentioned to my friend Alex this evening just how fortunate I am to have broken my ankles.

I love the way the universe works. ‘Cause I gotta say if it were not for that accident I would be stricken with guilt right now about how little time I had made for my mom.

Life gets so busy. And we just get so caught up in it all. Never realizing that which we have missed unless some kindred spirit points us towards that which we did not notice.

I am more fortunate than many – I have learned some of these lessons in a manner which resonates so completely with me that I have incorporated safeguards into my daily life that force me to smell the roses, and see the forests.

The most obvious of those is of course my passion for motorcycle riding. I am the first to admit that riding motorcycles is most definitely a form of self-medicating. I am no longer destroying my soul and everything good that comes near to me, but I am most definitely still self-medicating. And that is as much effort as I wish to put towards pondering that little nugget right now.

Anyhow, back on point – it is through this particular form of self-expression that I also find myself closest to my own personal understanding of God. I feel a connection with the world around me, and the universe when I am riding my motorcycle that is unlike anything I have experienced through any other form of seeking or meditation.

There is a oneness that  I am not well able to describe, at least, not at the  moment.

I am of course, on another motorcycle adventure. Just as I did when my father passed away, I packed up my bike and took off to be with mom. With my thoughts. With God.

And this time, with a friend. My buddy Alex and I planned a long weekend adventure several weeks ago.

 Mom would most definitely been upset with me if I had cancelled it due to her dying. “I am already gone for Christ sakes” are the words I would have heard had I decided to wallow in grief in my apartment.

So instead, I am riding through western Quebec, following some of the roads less travelled. Enjoying the fresh fall temperatures. The vibrant autumn foliage. The incredible awe of the world that surrounds me.

And mom is sitting pillion right behind my.
Smiling from ear to ear.

I love you mom. More than words can say.
Peace.

It’s kind of like ‘Misery’, without the sledgehammer……

 

Those are the words that my sister wrote on the cast on my right leg.

Yes. I have been hobbled. And thankfully, that is just my sister’s sense of humour. Because she has been an absolute godsend through this ordeal.

I have to tell you that I have a new found respect and appreciation for anyone suffering a physical disability. Going from fully-abled to having lost the use of my legs – even if only temporary – is a jarring new reality.

The fact that I am able to make the best of it is less a testament to my nature and positive outlook, and more a reliance on the idea that this is in fact, only temporary.

I am not sure where my emotional and mental barometer would be had I lost both of my feet. But I am fairly certain that it would not have me eagerly tapping away on my laptop to furnish you with another post in my blog, feeding my ego and satisfying my urge to write in one fell swoop.

So. Let me try to incorporate a lesson into this, my own one-sided mental discourse with you, my readers.

The lesson that I am going to try to illuminate is one that I feel cannot be taught, spoken of or illustrated enough.

It is the importance, nay, the critical nature, of wearing all of the proper motorcycle gear all of the time.

I was missing one piece of gear when I had my accident. I was not wearing fully armoured leather riding pants. Not even leather chaps. In fact, I was wearing denim jeans. So, lets take a look at what I was, and was not wearing and examine the effects of my choices that morning.

On top of my noggin – brain pan – skull was my Bell Pit Boss helmet. A light-weight helmet designed and manufactured by an industry leading company, it cost about $150.00. .

Certainly not what you might refer to as expensive. And yes, I made the conscious choice to wear a 1/2 lid. DOT approved, this helmet did its job completely. My gray matter remained inside of my skull. In fact, I did not even suffer any bruising, let alone a concussion

On this occasion, circumstance allowed me to save face. Literally.

I will not test the fates in that fashion again, and going forward you will see me in a full face helmet only.

On my torso I was wearing my Scorpion Stinger EXO fully armoured leather motorcycle jacket. Weighing almost 12 kilos, it is anything but lightweight. There is armour in all of the critical locations, including a semi-rigid back plate.

I landed on the asphalt on my upper back / shoulders after colliding broadside with a car at 70 km/h.

My Bell helmet and my Scorpion jacket took all of the impact with the asphalt.

And as I lay here writing this, I want you to know this: the very first thought to go through my head immediately after my body came to rest on the asphalt was – ‘wow, that could have been a lot worse’.

I suffered no bruising to my back or shoulders whatsoever. No concussion. No tenderness to my skull or scalp.

Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Almost as though I had not been in an accident at all.

As already mentioned, on my legs I was wearing a pair of Jeans. Solid, heavy-weight Levis, but jeans nonetheless.

The left leg of my pants was sliced from knee to shin (as was my left leg) by the top, trailing edge of my windshield.

That is why, dear reader, I will be wearing chaps of fully armoured leather riding pants in the future.

On my feet I was wearing my 3 year old pair of Exustar model E-SBT 120W motorcycle boots. They come about 1/2 way up to my knee, are rigid and very snug. They feel a lot like a downhill ski boot when they are on, which is the way they are designed.

They keep everything in place. So although I suffered multiple fractures in my ankles, there were no green-stick breaks; no torsion breaks; no ligament damage; so ‘shattered’ bones. Just a few clean, aligned fractures that were the result of my ankles hitting my handle-bars at 70 km/h.

Had I been wearing street shoes, or even ankle-high riding boots, I could very well have lost both feet.

I imagine shifting without a left foot is challenging. As challenging as using the back brake pedal without a right foot.

I will wear these boots again. And my next pair of riding boots will be of a similar height, weight and design. No question.

Finally, on my hands I was wearing my fully armoured leather Z1-R Reaper motorcycle gloves. They are far from expensive at only $28.00 / pair, and I admit that after about 18,000 kilometers of riding the stitching was starting to let go on the tip of the thumbs – but they have solid armour on all knuckles and pretty heavy padding on the palms. And in the case of my accident, my hands suffered not even a scratch.

 

I have been guilty, in the past, of riding a short distance in my Nike’s. And only a T-shirt on my torso.

I have taken my jacket off in 30 + degree temperatures and stowed it in my saddle bags while riding through the Laurentians, or down Tatlock road.

I will not do so again.

And I urge you…no, I implore you – please, do not sacrifice safety for comfort. Or worse, for the ‘cool’ factor.

On hot days, if fully armoured leather is just too much for you, then spend a little extra money on a high-quality (and Hi-Viz) convertible, armoured nylon riding jacket.

Joe Rocket, Tour Master, Spartan, Icon, AGV, and Scorpion are just a few of the companies that make a superior product that will help to keep your skin where it belongs – on your body.

The decision to wear tight-fitting, armoured, below-the-knee riding boots is as easy as deciding if you enjoy walking.

We are a class of people who have discovered that we are truly at peace, and truly happy, while pursuing one of the most inherently dangerous forms of self-expression out there. We ride motorcycles. It is in our genes. It is in our blood. It is in our souls.

In this area, we have a single obligation to ourselves, and to our loved ones. To pursue that passion as safely as we can.

Get out there and ride!

Peace.

And just like that, the season is over…

The 2014 motorcycle season got off to a pretty slow start in the Ottawa area. As a matter of fact the first real adventure of the season had been thought out, planned, arranged and organized long before the weather allowed for it to happen. The May long weekend found 5 of us from the Ottawa chapter of the CMC riding to Sudbury to meet up with a couple of members from the London chapter as well as a big chunk of the Sudbury chapter for a ride to and through Manitoulin Island.
The weather on the Friday morning of our departure was cold and rainy, but the conditions improved as the weekend wore on, and before all was said and done we had put 2,100 kilometers behind us and had enjoyed some truly incredible riding.
Manitoulin Island is a riding destination all unto itself, but if you are going to go, leave a little time in your schedule. Because you are going to want to ride highway 6 from Espanola to Little Current more than once. And if you are coming from the east and really want to get as much amazing-riding-bang-for-your-buck as possible then leave time for a little detour on your way home. The Temiskaming Loop is a top-rated motorcycle adventure tour and the scenery is absolutely breathtaking. Though it is approximately a 450 kilometer detour, it is worth every minute of the ride.

Manitoulin Adventure pics here

Alex and I also made another little detour that is now ranked right near the top of my ‘must-ride’ list. Instead of riding straight home from North Bay on Monday morning, we opted to go to Ottawa via Huntsville. Yes, another little detour. I had never been through the Muskoka region before and I now have a much better understanding as to what all the hoopla about this ‘cottage-country’ is all about. Wow. Highway 141 is just gorgeous and it leads you to a little gem of a road – probably the most technical I have ridden in Ontario – known as Peninsula Road, or highway 632. Alex and I rode her length 4 times and I cannot wait to ride her again.
Ride her again. I guess that brings us to the meat and gist of this post. And the reason for such a slamming-of-the-door-title.
You see, I am tapping out this post on the keyboard of my laptop from a retirement residence. While lying in a hospital bed. With 2 broken ankles.
Let me set the stage.
Sunday, May 25, 2014. 26 degrees Celsius and crystal clear with a warm breeze blowing. I put on all of my gear and hit the road at about noon, figuring I would ride to Lancaster to see my buddy Derek and maybe get a ride in his awesome ‘71 Z28, and then head up highway 2 towards Cornwall to see my older brother.
I left my place and immediately decided that it was a zero-slab day, meaning I was not going to ride any 400 series highways at all. The weather was just too nice – the day too perfect – to waste it on a 4 lane expressway.
So, I decided to follow the Vanier Parkway until it became River road and continue along that way until I hit highway 43. Then I would turn left, heading east and ride all the way to Apple Hill where I would grab county road 20 to county road 18 and ride to St. Raphaels, On, eventually turning right on highway 34 and heading south into the town of Lancaster. The town that I grew up in.
Well, needless to say, I never made it that far.
Having just cruised through Manotick – or alongside it would be more accurate I guess, since I was on River Road south – I remember looking at my watch and thinking that I would be in Lancaster between 3:00 and 3:30pm. It was 1:33 and I was just passing Kelly’s Landing.
The ride was beautiful and my soul was singing. I am truly never happier than I am when I am out on my machine, living my life on two wheels.
My grin faded and rapidly twisted into shock and then momentary terror, followed by resignation and acceptance when the car that had been stopped in the oncoming north-bound lane, without hesitation turned left immediately in front of me. Directly across my lane and into my path of travel.
I was traveling at approximately 70 km/h when she turned no more that 25 feet in front of me.
In the instant that I was allowed, every nuance from every motorcycle accident preparedness video that I have watched came into action. I did not think. I actually do not believe that I even reacted. I merely acted, and did the only thing that I had been taught that I can do. I held my course. Kept the bike upright. Shifted my seating angle to a positive upright position and grabbed as much front brake as I could.
The front end dove under braking. The back end got really light. And I just went for the ride.
It was over almost – but not quite – before I knew what was happening.
I was ejected from the saddle. Up and forward, over the handle bars. The inertia of my body mass traveling at 70 km/h arguing with the impact of 500-plus pounds of motorcycle coming to an abrupt halt after colliding with 2530 pounds of compact car.
My ankles lost the argument. As my body was thrown up and forward, my ankles smacked the handlebars of my motorcycle. Throwing me into a forward summersault which had the desirable effect of causing me to land on my upper back, shoulders – and helmet.
I say desirable because I al pretty sure that had I continued in my up-and-forward 70 km/h trajectory I very likely would not be typing this right now. Shattered wrists. Broken knees. Exploded elbows. And a face-full of asphalt would have been the likely end results.
Instead, I have 2 broken ankles. And while certainly anything but fun, and not without a degree of pain unlike any I have experienced before, I consider myself a very, very lucky man.
It could have been so very much worse.
I am recuperating. A day at a time. And have much more to say and to tell you. But at the moment I am tired. And with nothing but time on my hands for the foreseeable future, I do not think I am being remiss by ending this one here for tonight.
Some pictures from an album aptly titled “The Accident” are here

It’s been awhile…

I have been away for quite sometime.

Hmmmm…

There was a time when that meant one thing, and one thing only.

Thankfully, that is no longer the case. Being arrested, locked up, in custody, in jail, going to court, facing remand, pleading my case….

All things that I remember well. And I remain grateful that today, they are not part of my life.

I am also grateful – believe it or not – that they once were a part of my daily existence. The chaos. The uncertainty. The unbelievable amounts of stress. The pain, and heartache. The darkness.

For they all helped to bring me to where I am today. To shape the man that I am now, and the man that I will become tomorrow. To provide perspective. Contrast. Point of view.

I am looking out of the window of my apartment in Vanier, lamenting the mid-March blizzard that has befallen us. Pining for the warmer weather, the melting of the snow, the cleansing rains of spring – all so that I may once again climb into the saddle of my iron steed and commence yet another season of travels, explorations and discoveries.

God I miss my bike.

Yet neither of these two facets of my life are what brought me back to the keyboard.

No. What brought me back to writing this blog is love.

And my absolute joy about being free to accept it. And to give it. To feel it, and acknowledge it. To learn of it, and grow with it.

Susie brought me back to you, my friends and fellow travelers.

You remember Susie. I introduced you to her on May 30 of 2012, just as I was preparing to head off on my Epic Motorcycle Adventure to the Rockies.

During that trip out west, I made a lot of discoveries. About myself and my life. About travelling the open road. About how infinitesimally small we are in the great big scheme of things. About the things that are important to me. About what friendship means to me.

And it was on that trip that I came to realize that I loved this woman.

Susie underwent 39 chemotherapy sessions between May of 2012 and December of 2013.

In December she was told that the chemo was no longer working.

This is the type of news that can, and often does precede the quick downturn and eventual death of stage 4 cancer victims.

Thankfully, Susie has never considered herself a victim. Nor have any of those who surrounded her and buoyed her through these last 2 years.

Susie and I became very close during this time. I expressed my love, Susie smiled and gave me the ‘I am flattered, but…’, and a friendship began to blossom that is quite unlike any that I have had before.
There is a great amount of information available espousing the undeniable benefits of laughter. And the healing power of love.

Susie and I have shared an inordinate amount of time engaged in belly-clenching, tears-streaming, gut-rolling laughter. And she has been surrounded by love every day. From her parents, her brothers and sister, her cousins, her boyfriend, her aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews – just an incredible number of people took the time to make sure that she knew – and knows – that she is loved.

On Friday, February 28, 2014 Susie underwent 9 hours of surgery.

Surgery that at least one surgeon tried to talk her out of. Because it was, in that surgeon’s words – a waste of time. Because Susie was certain to be filled with cancer – both old and new. According to the surgeon.
We protested. We invited the surgeon to consider quality of life aspects that may have been overlooked.

Having been told that chemo was no longer working, quality of life was Susie’s focus.

Several weeks and 9 hours of surgery later, that same surgeon came to address the family members who were present, as well as Susie’s boyfriend Mike and myself.

And the surgeon looked at each of us. Smiled. And said “it is really quite a miracle, actually.”

It seems that they found no disease, only scar tissue.

Susie’s stage 4 colon cancer – which at one point had metastasized and spread to her lung, liver, abdomen, lymph nodes and ovary – was no where to be seen.

Through 39 chemotherapy sessions this woman kept telling everyone that she was going to be fine.
Through more than half a dozen CT scans. Countless blood tests. Twice weekly visits to the Ottawa Integrative Cancer Center. Hair loss. Weight gain. The never-quite-gone looming darkness and fear of the disease.

Through all of it Susie kept her smile. Shared her laughter. Loved and received love.
There is an undeniable and incredible healing power that comes from within all of us and that is all of us. It is the one thing that can connect us to all that is and all that ever was. For thousands of years we have tried to ascribe ethereal identities and nomenclature to it. We have written rules to be abided by and oaths to be given. We have taught and been taught that it is a power to be deigned upon the deserving. The worthy. The righteous.

It is the power of love.

It is free. Just open your heart.

I discovered on my trip out west in 2012 that I was capable of loving another person as I do myself.
The greatest gift that I have ever received.

Matched very recently by a team of surgeons who said “she is doing great. It looks like she is going to be fine”

“I have always known in my heart that I was going to be okay” Susie said just the other day.

None of us is certain of what tomorrow holds. But today brought the promise of a tomorrow.
That is more than enough.

You are undeniably the strongest person that I have ever met Susie.
I love you. And am so very grateful to have you in my life.
Joe E.