Day 31

Looking back at fifty, I remember Day 31 as the day the road felt like it was finally narrowing toward our destination. Crossing the Manitoba border felt like a major milestone—even if the paved shoulder vanished the moment we crossed the line, forcing us into the main traffic lane. The morning was a strange mix of history and taxidermy at the Elkhorn antique car museum, where we saw everything from 1900s automobiles to a stuffed two-headed calf. It was a quintessential roadside oddity that breaks up the long Prairie stretches.

The afternoon was a high-stakes race against the sky. We spent the day watching massive, ominous clouds roll across the plains, stopping in Alexander to let one deluge pass and later huddling behind Shayne as his rear tire finally gave up the ghost. But the real shock was the Grand Valley just outside Brandon. After days of flat terrain, the earth just dropped away into a massive valley. The ride down was a rocket shot, but the climb back up was a grueling reminder that Manitoba has its own ideas about "flat".

Reaching the motel in Brandon just before the heavens opened was a victory in itself, but the highlight was dinner. We ended up in a McDonald's that had somehow become an impromptu convention for cross-country cyclists. We reunited with Matthew and met half a dozen others—Erin, Christine, Kevin, and Chris—all heading in different directions but sharing the same exhausted, exhilarated energy. It felt like a party in the middle of a fast-food joint. We’re all heading to Portage la Prairie together tomorrow, and for the first time in weeks, it feels like we have a pack again.

It is sunny again this morning but the weather forecast is predicting thunderstorms for the evening. My rear tire was very soft this morning so we reinflated it. Soon after crossing over the Manitoba border we stop at the Visitor Info centre. Wendy looks through a cyclist log but strangely enough does not happen to see Matthew's name in it.

We reach Elkhorn and stop at an antique automobile museum. It has dozens of old cars from the 1900s to the 1930s. There is also a huge collection of other antiques ranging from wood stoves to metal tractor seats to a stuffed two-headed calf. We lost the paved shoulder at the border and are now having to ride in the right lane. As we pass Griswold, we stop and let a particularly ominous cloud pass a kilometre or two ahead of us before resuming riding.

Just outside Brandon we come across a huge valley, aptly named Grand Valley, that the Assiniboine River flows through. After a rocket ride down and an arduous climb up, Blue and I get to the other side. We arrive at the motel first and check in, just before the rain starts falling in a powerful downpour. We walk over to McDonald's for supper and reunite with Matthew, who introduces us to Erin and Christine. Other cyclists, Kevin and Chris, also join us. We have a very enjoyable meal trading our various stories and experiences.