Ch 19

Monday morning comes bright and shining through my bedroom window. I have my pack all ready and today's outfit set out on my bed. The weather report for the next few days looks good, and I can't believe that the next time I'll be in this room is going to be Friday after cycling for five days straight. It's mind boggling really.

When I finally emerge from my room, pack in hand, my mom is actually sitting at the table waiting for me.

"Honey, I'm so proud of you! Two hundred and sixty kilometres on a bike is no easy feat," she tells me as she sips a glass of orange juice, which could be a screwdriver—vodka is one of her favourites—her threadbare bathroom wrapped around her.

I shake my head, "Don't be proud yet, wait until Friday when I'm done. Pros do easily that much, though."

"Justin, I don't say this enough. I'm proud of you. You're really making something of yourself. I know things have been kind of messed up around here the past few years, but I think things are finally getting on track. Paul is such a good guy and we're all going to be really happy," her optimism is wonderful, it's actually one of the things I love about my mom, and I hope to god it's not misplaced with her relationship with Paul.

Mr. Rennet's horn honks from outside and I lean down to give my mother a quick peck on the cheek. "Love you, Ma. I've got to go now, my ride's here."

"Okay Justin, be safe!" she calls to me as I leave the house, waving to Kyle and his dad.

...............................................................

It's ten thirty in the morning and so far everything is going pretty well. Mr. Sway is riding with us for the first leg while Ms. Francis drives the 'support vehicle,' which is really Mr. Sway's ten year old Toyota Camry. Our food supplies are in the trunk as well as emergency repair kits for the bikes, but we are packing everything else on our bikes—tents, sleeping bags, clothes, and toiletry items. We each are carrying a few different water bottles, too.

We are riding in single file along one of the county roads through the rolling hills and farmland outside our town. Our destination today is a small conservation area fifty-five kilometres from the school, and it should be a pretty easy ride. There isn't very much traffic and we aren't pushing ourselves, although it's still a bit tiring. Since the sun is out, I've taken off a few outer layers and am just in a t-shirt on top. At kilometre 25 we pull into the parking lot of a country church and break for lunch.

Today we're lucky. Barbara had packed bagged lunches for us all after a breakfast of oatmeal, scrambled eggs and toast. We each get a juice box, some fruit, a sandwich and granola bar. It's not as filling as the food from the caf, but we do have some snacks in the car we can have, too.

Sitting instead of riding, I realize that it's actually kind of chilly out, but April can be like that. The snow might be gone, but it's definitely not warm enough for shorts or anything. Mr. Sway spoke to the pastor of the church and he's graciously allowed us use of the bathrooms before we head out again, which really isn't that big a deal to the guys, but the girls are totally thrilled.

After a pre-ride check of our bikes, and thankfully everyones' are good, we hop back on, this time Ms. Francis riding and Mr. Sway driving. Honestly, everyone is in a bit of pain, I think, when we push on, but we have to cover another thirty or so kilometres to get to our campground. By the late afternoon we've actually made it to Bell's Lake Conservation Area, and a cheer goes up when we see the sign. Of course it turns to groans when we still have to set up tents and everything before we can even think of resting. Much like our previous trip, we're divided by age and gender, so I am again sharing a tent with Kyle.

"You know, you could share with Tom if you want," Kyle says, giving me a nudge and a wink.

I sneak a peek across to where Tom and Kent are busy hammering in their pegs. "No, it's really not a good idea." Tom's wearing a t-shirt and his sleeves are up a little and I can see the edge of his swirling tattoo. The memory of the last time I saw it fills my mind and blood is rushing somewhere below my belt.

"Why not, don't you trust him?"

"I don't trust me." And I turn away because I can't even look at Tom right now without wanting to touch him, and it hurts. Well, actually, my whole body aches.

It becomes apparent that everyone aches because instead of dinner being some raucous affair, everyone is really subdued. A few of the grade tens 'cook'—canned soup, buns, and beef jerky, a few of the grade elevens are on clean up, then we sit around a campfire for a few hours.

I think everyone broke into their supply of pain killers, I know I did. Although the day was sunny, as soon as the sun goes down, we're reminded that in Southern Ontario in April, spring isn't really that close to summer. The temperature drops precipitously and although it's still above freezing, it's still damn cold, and it causes us all to have our muscles seize up.

Before heading off to our tents, we all need to use the bathroom. There are actual bath houses here with flush toilets, but they aren't really heated, so I opt to wash up in the sink as best I can rather than opt for a shower. Besides, everyone smells anyway and it's only going to get worse, especially since I'm sharing a tent with Kyle, the king of flatulence. At least the tent will be warm, I suppose.

........................................................

The next two days are pretty uneventful. We wake, eat, check our bikes over, pack up, and ride. A few of the grade ten students have been whining a bit, but for the most part we're all in this torture together.

Thursday is a problem, though. It's miserable out, completely terrible. April is prone to cold snaps and today is one of those days. There's a strong wind, close to freezing temperatures, and a rain/sleet mix that makes riding bikes a pretty challenging task. From the moment I woke up today, I knew it was going to be awful.

We manage to fumble with cold hands through breakfast and packing up, but the bike checks show a problem. For some reason the tires are really low in a few of the bikes. Wheeling them under the open shelter, Kent, Tom and I examine the bikes more carefully. There doesn't seem to be any punctures in the tires at all, so we fill them and check for leaks. Most likely the tires are low due to the temperature drop over night. Then we all take to the saddles and pedal.

The wind is a bitch. Regular riding in temperatures this cold would be fine, you just heat up with the exercise, but the wind is so strong it cuts through layer after layer of clothes, plus it's blowing right in our faces, slowing us down and causing windburn. Progress is ridiculously slow.

"Okay, rest stop!" Mr. Sway directs us towards a coffee shop in a small town from the window of his car. "Everyone gets a warm drink."

After locking up our bikes, we all drag ourselves into the restaurant. We are one motley looking group.

"So gang, we've been out for two hours and covered a little over fifteen kilometres. I think we need to re-group," Ms. Francis says as she shakes water out of her hair. Taking a pencil and paper out, she passes around the sheet for us to record our order on.

"Regroup? I think quitting is in order," Faith shivers in her seat, sleeves pulled over her hands.

"The weather is supposed to improve tomorrow, and that will be our last day, so quitting isn't the best idea," Mr. Sway points out. "Besides, it might not be the easiest thing to get a bus out here for all our gear."

"Who cares if it's our last day tomorrow, when we're dying today?" Shayla complains. She doesn't have any windproof clothes and has to be feeling bad. I totally get it, as does everyone else.

"What if we just change our route?" Tom says. He's wearing my winter hat, which is still totally cute, but it's obvious he's chilled. His face is red and weather-beaten and his nose is running slightly. "I mean, if we look on a map we could probably find an alternate route back that's shorter. Start heading towards home today?"

I know he's got to be hurting if he wants to get home quicker. A whole bunch of us are hurting because everyone agrees with Tom's suggestion.

"It might be hard to plan a route because we need somewhere along the way we can camp," I mention. Not that I want to shoot down his idea, because it's a good one, I'm just thinking practically.

"Ohhh, lover's quarrel," I can hear someone mutter under their breath. I try to ignore it, but I know whatever patience I've had is long gone.

"Seriously? You want to go on like this? Well, fuck you, 95. You'd think you'd have Tom's back. Look how cold your boy is!" Jeff exclaims, being a complete ass.

"Keep your voice down. We're in a restaurant and there are other people in here besides us," I grumpily point out. Jeff's just being rude and ignorant. "All I'm saying is things aren't as easy as it sounds. That's all. You don't think I'm not cold and sore, too?" I know there's an edge to my voice.

"Okay, keep it down everyone." Mr Sway starts handing out steaming cups of teas, coffees and hot chocolates to us, hoping to warm us a bit from the inside out. "What do you think, Kay?" he asks Ms Francis.

"Well, I agree with Tom, really. We should probably start back towards home, rather than continue on our planned loop. It's getting worse out and I for one don't want to have a class of hypothermic students. But Justin's correct, too. It's not going to be as easy as just re-routing. We also need to find accommodations."

I silently thank her for pointing out that I was right in my concerns. Honestly, I thought a few people in the class were ready to kill me. I took a sip of my coffee and wrapped my hands around the warm drink in an effort to try and feel my fingers again.

"How about Sway and I work on this for a bit while you all warm up?" Ms. Francis calls to us, and they both pull out their phones and google maps.

Rather than make anyone else angry, I just sit as conversations swirl around me. I'm feeling a bit dizzy from everything and at the moment, I'm just done. With everything. And it doesn't help knowing that we're going to have to go back out there.

After twenty minutes of plotting and planning, it seems that the teachers have devised some sort of plan. "Okay, listen up!" Mr. Sway says. The talking slows to a halt, and everyone turns to look. "Kay and I've got a plan, and hopefully it will make things a bit easier. We will still need to ride today, but probably only another twenty kilometres or so. There's a motel the next town over that has agreed to give us rooms for the night." Everyone perks up at that piece of information.

Ms. Francis's voice cuts in above the noise, "But that means we'll have to ride a bit farther tomorrow."

"How much farther?" Julia pipes up.

"Originally our last day was supposed to be only 40 kilometres, but instead it's closer to 60." A bunch of protests ring out but she continues. "That's about the same amount you did the first day, but the weather's supposed to be nice again, and you won't have any takedown or set up."

"Really, that's the best option, so if we hurry now, we can check in by two and have a late lunch. Clean up your messes and be ready to leave in 10 minutes," Mr. Sway directs.

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The road isn't much better now. We've been back out for twenty minutes and it feels like two hours. The weather hasn't really improved, the wind is still blowing and it's worse when we are on flat areas along farmers fields than it is where trees line the road, and the icy pellets of freezing rain still tear at my exposed skin.

We are strung out in a long line of cyclists, Mr. Sway is in the front, and I am bringing up the rear to prevent anyone from falling back. Ms. Francis has gone ahead in the car to finalize things with the motel and we are expected to be there in about an hour or so. But the ride is gruelling and I am completely exhausted. Still, we pedal on.

Another thirty minutes in, our line has spread out. I can see the cyclist in front of me when I squint, Julia, but she's not too close, probably a few football fields ahead of me. The road we're on is a bit twisted, and it's slick in places, and I'm cold. Going around a corner, I lose focus for just a second and the tire slips. Struggling to regain my balance, which is hard when my pack shifts, I hit the unpaved shoulder of the road and my bike slips out from under me. I don't even have time to react, yet I can see the ground coming as if in slow motion.

My knee lands first, I think. I hit the cold ground hard. I don't recall coming to a stop, but I do. There's a trail and I've left a skid in the loose gravel along the slick pavement. I can hear my bike tires still rotating and I can hear the wind and I can hear my blood pumping through my veins as I start to shake hard. I stay on the ground for a moment or two as I take stock. Slowly I move parts of my body to test them for injury and then I work to get to a sitting position.

There are tears to my pants and I can see some shredded skin and embedded gravel through the torn fabric. Similarly my elbow to my shoulder on my right side is also injured. Thankfully I didn't get my hands down in enough time to break my fall, so they seem to be in mostly working order. I know we weren't too far from the destination, so I pick my self up, tighten the straps on my pack, stumble to my bike and get back on.

The front wheel wobbles unsteadily. But I continue to ride. I don't have much choice, but it is almost impossible to get any speed up and I really hurt. Eventually, I just get off and walk, pushing my bike along with me. It should only be a little bit into the town, sadly the fields around me go on forever, and the only houses I see are set really far back from the road and have no lines going to them. A lot of the people near here are Mennonite, like horse and buggy type Amish, no power, no phones, no English. So no point going to them for help. I push on.

I'm not sure how long I've been walking but I know it's been awhile.

"Justin!" A car pulls to the side of the road and Ms. Francis steps out. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure really. I slid going around a corner," I groan.

"Well, let's get this loaded up and we can fix it tonight." Ms. Francis takes my bike from me while I take off my pack and limp my way to the passenger's seat.

"You can take room 5 with Tom."

"No," I exclaim vehemently, then try a bit more calmly, "no thank you. I'm rooming with Kyle."

"He's already in with Kent in room 4."

"Just...just, please?" I know there's a whine to my voice and I'm worried I'm going to cry or something. I really can't have Tom see me like this, and I sure as hell can't share a room with him right now.

"Fine, work it out with the guys. Room 4 then," she tells me, tiredly, as we pull into a cute little motel at the intersection of two rural roads that kind of make up a town. At the same intersection, there's a general store with cafe, doctor's office and a gas station with post office.

Grabbing my pack and bike, I wheel it up to room 4 and pound on the door.

"What's up, 95?" Kent asks when the door opens.

"You're next door with Tom."

"We thought you'd want to be with-"

"You thought wrong."

"Whatever." Kent seizes his bag from the floor and walks out, allowing me entrance to the room.

Kyle looks up from where he's laying on the bed when I come in. "What the hell happened to you?"

"What do you think?"

"Fair enough. Why don't you take the shower first. You look like you could use it."

"Thanks." I drop my bag, prop up my bike and head into the bathroom, tears licking at my eyelids.

...............................................

After my shower I collapsed on the bed and slept. Kyle tried to rouse me for dinner and whatever everyone else was doing, but I didn't even move from my blanket cocoon. I know I'm being pathetic, but apparently I don't do well with severe cold and exhaustion. Finally I woke up when Kyle brought me a hamburger and coke from the diner for dinner.

"Do you want me to bandage your shoulder? he asks, noticing me wincing in pain as I sit up.

"Yeah, if you could. I did my leg, but I couldn't do my arm." I pull off my shirt in between bites of my dinner.

Kyle takes a look at my shoulder and grimaces, "That looks sore, no wonder you were acting like a little bitch, all whiney like and everything."

"I'm so sorry. I was just so sore and exhausted and demoralized. I felt like complete crap and didn't want to deal with anyone."

"You might have a little bit of apologizing to do...you know, Kent, Tom, Ms. Francis..."

I sigh heavily. "Yeah, I know."

"I got you the spare wheel for your bike," Kyle gestures towards the corner.

"Thanks."

"No worries, I got your back, Bro." I guess he means literally, because then he starts bandaging up my shoulder.

.................................................

The next morning I wake up sore, but rested. I'm totally ready to finish this freaking trip and know I have to make reparations today.

Kyle and I pack up the room after installing my new rim and tire, then head outside. Apparently everyone is meeting at the cafe across the road for breakfast before we head out. It's a much nicer day than yesterday, sunny and warm, all the ice and rain from the day before completely gone.

At breakfast I apologize to Kent and Ms. Francis without any issues, Tom, on the other hand is a whole other story. He refuses to even acknowledge me. Instead of eating with the seniors, he opts to sit with the grade 11 students. When I try to catch his eye, he very pointedly turns away. The whole thing is completely frustrating, and we still have to ride for another four or five hours, so I decide not to waste any more energy now and maybe I can make it up later.

I can't.

I try. And I try and try, but Tom won't even look at me. By the time we get back to school everyone is completely done. It's kind of nice, actually, at school. There was a group of students outside to welcome us back as organized by student council. I'm pretty sure that Lauren just wanted pictures for the yearbook to go with the other ones she's taken of the fundraiser. She's pretty thorough like that, plus it looks good for her supplemental applications for university.

I get a ride home with Kyle's dad, then spend the rest of the weekend sleeping for the most part.