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Ducati on Campus- St.FX, Antagonish: Mile 1142

Halifax History (at the Citadel) to a St.FX dorm in Antigonish

The ride today was by far the best ride so far.  The weather was beautiful, and the roads were windy and gorgeous.  Halifax is a fairly cosmopolitan city, and two New Yorkers felt right at home.

Before we left, we took in some history, driving up to Citadel Hill (Fort George), the massive 18th century fort overlooking the city.

Bagpipe Brigade
The sprawling waterfront over the embankment.

 We hit the road sometime in the early afternoon, snaking around the coast before cutting up north.
 Canada is beginning to rub off on us, and our ride was relaxed, happy and everything a motorcycle trek should be.
 All along the roads locals (?) had carved out little scenic rest stops, where we would stop every hour or so to bask in the sun and tranquility and appreciate the topography change
We pulled our bikes onto the grass and sat on the dock.

Lakes and coastline are peppered with evergreen expanses.
We sat here watching birds, spiraling from several hundred feet up straight down, like a kamikaze plane to catch fish.

 Route 7 turned northward, running through what seemed like (more) blue collar neighborhoods. After several hours, we rolled up to Antigonish (pronounced 'aynee-go-NISH').

Jay and I were both thoroughly happy with the day, the ride and with life when we arrived, and cruised through the center of an artsy looking college town.  When we parked and partially removed our gear to ask the locals about accommodations, we didn't get two hundred feet from our bikes when a woman named Kathy got up from her dinner to chase us down and ask us if we needed help.  Along with restaurant recommendations, she told us about renting a room for $30 on campus of St. Francis X, the massive catholic college in the center of town.
Home sweet dorm. 

Reminiscing about college years.  
 After we checked into our room, we drove out to listen to live music and grab a beer, when Jay set me up to arm wrestle the fellow below.   I'm not a small guy, but Gary dispatched obliterated me.  Turns out he was a regional arm-wrestling champion in Canada and a great guy, despite the fact that we was quite visibly disabled.  I wasn't a sore loser though, and he showed me a bunch of techniques.
We made a few fast friends, including a gentleman named Keith, who used to help manage the English Under 21 national soccer team.  I was enthralled, as I'm a fairly fervent Arsenal fan, and on top of regaling me with stories of Jack Wilshere, Theo Walcott and Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, he said his friend was one of the Arsenal physios, and would be happy to get me Arsenal tickets the next time I'm in London.

Next Day: Nova Scotia: Mile 1339

 © 2014 Tigh Loughhead


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