Day 3: Trenton - Kingston (78 mi)


What a glorious day of cycling! Riding along Lake Ontario made a big difference in temperature and temperament.


Riding on the Loyalist Parkway for something like 100 Km, prompted me to wonder which side I would have likely chosen had I been around two centuries ago. The "loyalists" were the folks who fled the newly formed United States because they were loyal to the King of England.

As far as I know, all my ancestors came to North America after the American Revolution, so we can't be labeled easily.

My Grandfather on my mother's side, a Scot, served in the Royal Navy, but migrated to the US in the 1930s. I don't have any information about the earlier generations, but being members of the Anglican church, I'd tend to lump them with the loyalists.

On the other hand, my Great Grandfather on my father's side came from Ireland, joined the Union Army, was injured in Sherman's march on Atlanta, and died of his injuries before making it home to Illinois.

My Grandmother was Canadian, so one would presume her family to be loyal to the monarchy, but I don't know anything about them.

It seems that loyalty implies blind faith. I've never been one to accept authority without question. That's an Irish trait of which I am fiercely proud. I protested the Vietnam War and recently the Iraq War. It seems therefore that I would have most likely sided with the US.

I never cease to be amazed at how little Americans know about their history, especially with respect to the 1812 War. Michiganders don't seem to know that Detroit, Mackinac Island and the rest of what is now Michigan was surrendered to the Brits and Canadians. At the ALA/CLA convention in Toronto last week, I met Pierre Berton, my favorite author. Berton has written two books about the 1812 War. His approach to history is spellbinding and balanced. Both sides were led by idiots.

One of the primary reasons for my ride across southern Ontario is the historical perspective. There was history all along my route. Every historical marker or old building got my attention.


I slept from 8:30 to 6:30, so managed to get out the door really early. I had an enjoyable breakfast with some Trenton locals who joined me at my table to talk about my journey. Wearing lycra into a restaurant always prompts some sort of discussion.

While normally, I refuse to ride on the sidewalk, traffic on the Trenton bridge was heavy and I didn't relish the notion of holding it up as I struggled in a granny gear to climb over the bridge, so the sidewalk was a reasonable option.


Ever since I bought a sea kayak, I've been contemplating kayaking from Ottawa to Michigan. My plan was to paddle down the Rideau Canal network to Prince Edward County and the Trent-Severn Waterway, which connects to the Severn River and Georgian Bay, Lake Huron. The bridge at Trenton goes over that waterway. Further south, where the road crosses the waterway, there is a bridge that rotates out of the way of the boats.


As I was riding south on the Loyalist Parkway, these cyclists from Oshawa stopped to say hello. They were driving SAG for a senior citizen ride in the area. The man on the right rode his Tour Easy recumbent across Canada from Vancouver. He noted that he drove through Lansing last week.


I love old barns.

The Glendore Ferry about 5 miles east of Picton was free and quite enjoyable.

I didn't expect to see wildlife, but did. There were two roadkill racoons and a beaver. I was surprised to see a live Bald Eagle (or some other big bird of prey) nesting in a power pole.

I was also surprised by what appeared to be a salmon run in the outflow from the Ontario Power plant. Fish were jumping left and right, but I couldn't catch one with my digital camera.

Not sure what the power plant was discharging into the Lake, I stopped a few miles further along to soothe my aching feet in the cool lake water.

The rocky shoreline provided a perfect natural bench.

After 78 miles, I arrived in Kingston, one of my favorite towns. While eating outdoors at an Irish restaurant, a man passed by in a tourist rickshaw and commented that he felt like the queen. One of the folks in the sidewalk restaurant yelled back, "you look like her too."

Tomorrow, I may deviate from my planned route to ride north to see some friends at their cottage near Westport, Ontario.


Posted: Thu - June 26, 2003 at 09:58 PM      

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