1.6. Newfie Teil 2

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English Version _______________________________________________________________________

The road from St. John's runs on an abandoned railwaytrack, the T-rail. The memory of Cape Breton comes up where that was a really awesome alternative route. In the knowledge that this railwayline leads more than 1000km over the island and remains almost always within the reach of the highway, a certain anticipation comes to the various possibilities of the next few days. Unfortunately, this fades already in the next two hours. The suburb "Mount Pearl" is still easy to reach but the very next section after "Paradise" (sic!) turns out to be the opposite of the name. It's stony, the gravel is larger, the layers thicker. Sometimes I get stuck in a dangerous way, because I quickly get into a tailspin's at a medium to slow tempo. With 20km/h you can simply ignore rushing over these gravel beds, below this speed it's critical. Gradually I understand the reason for the condition and also the fact that previously no one could tell anything about the navigability of this path. It is an ATV track. All-terrain vehicles are those four-wheeled things without chassis, driving around and with which, for example, icelandic farmers now drive their sheep together (if the dog can or will not). In winter, the same route is then used with skidoos (snowmobiles).
For this transport coarse gravel of course is not a problem and the lobby of motorized road users compared to the biking ones in Newfoundland is clearly the majority. Another consequence of the ATV / Skidoo use is next to the "gravel-surfing", the "deep-slope" mode. These are up to 70 cm high bumps, and you get a speed problem when the frontwheel begins to lift. (However, it is, even with the 30kg of bags that I have on the bike, possible!)
Basically, one is actually estimated as a cyclist really nutty. From enthusiastic over casual-sporty, to timid to-pitying regards, there are also reactions such as head shaking, or just before overtaking several times loud horns and provocative tight passing. After a while one grows a thick skin.
Particularly successful in fulfilling risky overtaking maneuvers are clearly the drivers of the campers. In contrast to the Truck drivers, who give you a nice waving from their chrome ornated cabins before threshing the next head wind blow in your face. The passing is very well calculated. They use the horn as a warning signal many seconds before the critical point is reached in a forward-looking manner. Since we cyclists here not too numerous, we are not as annoying as flies, but rather interesting challenges while "traveller on the asphalt." The motorhome drivers mentioned above unfortunately have quite a different point of view. In their eyes we are not flies either, but rather hallucinations or nightmare creatures that reduce, without warning, the distance between the center and side line of the road so that you need to maneuver the vehicle as through a bottleneck.
Even with a lack of oncoming traffic on the other lane, the move to there - at least partially - is  not to be considered, cause there's a line in the middle of the road, which is not to be crossed or touched. Camping Mobiles have here also other dimensions, than what at we are used to. Large city bus collosus' - sometimes with a rear double axle - buck a hydraulically suspended Harley with sidecar, and as if that was not enough, still hanging in the back a Jeep. The vehicle can be extended laterally on both sides up to about fourteen feet. This comes quite close to the plan of a simple Canadian residential building, which, by the way, also looks like a caravan without wheels, but with additions. This facilitates the transport of the house when moving, which is a common way of moving here.
The explanation for the most catastrophic driving style of the RV's is the way that one does not need a special driver's license or a driver training for these vehicles. There is only an introduction to the "air-beaks". If I retrospect, whom I already have seen, coming out of this boxes (decrepit old men, determined over 75 years without any accident with cars and lawn mowers, always remained faithful to their track) there are no more surprises. Well, the consequence for me is: Get a rear view mirror for my helmet at the earliest opportunity . (This will unfortunately have to wait until Montreal).
But for now I'm heading further west. The TCH is relatively heavily frequented. Later I learn that the short ferry has run aground and is out of duty for more than two weeks. The long ferry that I had taken to Placencia (Atlantic Vision), was then reassigned for the short haul. Therefore, now the whole freight runs the 800km from Port Au Basque to St. John's at the other end of the island on the road. "Once lucky," (to speak with Jan-Philip's words), that I could've taken the other ferry, to make this route possible, but now I have all this traffic here. Actually, it feels like on our highways, but with a speed limit between 100 and 110 km/h. Because almost everyone thinks the way, even in the remotest areas, the exception is of course always the "senseless speeding" of the young testosterone-driven driving novices, which coming after the second set of tires and the ever-increasing price of fuel at some point to reason. In addition, cyclists are for these people only "better pedestrians". If my motor howls piss off the road. And in fact, the experienced cyclists recognizes such an A#$@-fiddle (translated german expression for: "fuck knuckle" or "cheese dick")  without looking at the noise of their vehicles and their engines.  
If you want to take the back roads, this is possible only on the eastern Avalon Peninsula and later in the Twillingate area. All other branches are dead end roads, some with epic length. Caperoads are needing several days, depending on the length. In adverse winds and other bad weather, sometimes even more. Since I now want to make some miles to the west, I keep straight on the highway without much deviation. The great thing about the TCH, as with the disused railway lines that the gradients can indeed be long, but never steeper than 6-8%.
With increasing distance, I perceive the latent Newfoundland suffers from the tree disease. The efforts of the people of these to halt by paper mills and sawmills stop seeped in recent years because of falling prices, more and more. Only individual fighters are finishing up, to cope with this virus.
One morning I meet one at my tent. The night before, I set up on the edge of a cleared area, as in the local area teeming with everything from holiday homes and prohibition signs. The next morning I hear an ecavator going around 6:30 clock. It is about 800 meters away, the area is about 20 football pitches. Since I'm on the edge and I'm good to see I turn over and fall asleep again without fear of having to be dug up. An hour later, as I have just dismantled the tent, an SUV comes up to me to stop just in front of my bike. A man gets out and says, ". Nice Day, isn't it, I'm the landowner". I reply, "Sorry if I bothered you, but I did not find any better place." No problem, he says, and  where I am from, then? Germany is here suitsble for an exotic welcome. As a confirmation of this is the now following personal handshake. When I ask him what he will build here on all the land, the answer is: "Do not know yet. Bought the ground two years ago and thought to have it cleaned now". Well, just to clean twenty football fields full of trees just without plan ... Erosion, "I hear you approaching." But still bravely fighting against the tree disease!
 Unfortunately, you can see the result only from the immediate vicinity, all around are namely ...  Exactly, lots of other trees. In recent years, it has at least been able to significantly reduce the amount. Even if the trees are not fit to secure your food against the bears;-)
By the way; if not here and there some Canadian flags could be seen, one could simply forget how foliage looks.