Royston from Knights of Mo’ Bay Cycling Apparel recently completed a ride across Jamaica, and is here to share the experience with us.  Have a read and find out what it’s like to see Jamaica by bike.

The Jamaica Reggae Ride

by Royston C

Let’s get a couple of facts out of the way. The roads from Negril to Port Antonio were the closest thing to road perfection. After a couple hours, we stopped looking for pot holes or road debris. No grunting screams of hole breaking the tranquil silence. Along the way, we saw workers removing broken glass, discarded debris and automobile castoffs. As a cyclist who has ridden in cities across the US, most US roads are not this clean. Yes, Jamaican drivers are not accustom to cyclist on the roads, but in the vast majority of situations, they gave us more than 3 feet clearance regardless of our motor cycle escort presence or not. Active Holiday serves lived up to the Jamaican slogan, “No problem”, airport to airport service with everything covered in between. We never heard “Soon Come”. Now that we have addressed many perceived issues, this was a fantastic five day cycling adventure.

I came in a few days early and was able to see the Jamaican Racing team do their Mo’ Bay to Lucea Pepper Ride on Thursday morning, a 50 mile out and back. They left at 7 am and were back at 9 am. These were our guides. They rode with us over the next three days, maintained our bikes, escorted us through towns, and coached the novice and expert cyclist up and down Black Mountain and if necessary pushed members up the hill. We had two members of the Jamaica Constabulary Force escorted us on motorcycles. They blocked traffic at stoplights, created a lane for us in a number of busy areas and in a few cases carried both cyclist and cycle up hill.

Cyclist flew in on Thursday morning and were picked up at the Mo’ Bay airport. They were taken to Active Holidays Welcome Center. The staff unpacked their bikes and assembled their bikes. Boxes were stored away and cyclist transported to Negril. We had a wonderful reception on the patio looking over the famous Negril 7 Mile Beach. We met our new comrades who came from across the US, Europe and the Caribbean. We had an almost United Nations of nationalities. We also met up the Jamaican Notational Cyclist Team and Mo’ Bay Cornwall Cycling Team. After the receptions, we dispersed to various eating establishments on dining recommendations from Jennifer, who didn’t tell us, she was foodie. Every town we visited, Jennifer had a restaurant recommendations and she communicated in I believe (4) languages, not including Jamaican Patois.

The next morning, we had a hardy inclusive Jamaican breakfast and some great quick bike maintenance and repair. The ride out with motorcyclist escorts Winty and Farrakhan was great. The first day was the easiest with not a lot of serious climbing and a pleasant ocean breeze to cool us down. We stopped in the town of Lucea, half way to Mo’ Bay, where we enjoyed our lunch in the market place consisting of fresh Jamaican fruits and cocoanut water straight from the cocoanut. The second half consisted of small rollers until we made to Mo’ Bay and stayed at the Sunrise. Many of the riders took advantage of the free pools, gyms and beach chairs. It appeared the first day ride did not tire out some members, who were seen partying to reggae music late into the night, while other took taxi’s into town and roamed the streets.

The second day of riding was definitely more challenging than the first in respect to length, number of long climbs and tropical breeze. You learned to love the westerly breeze because it kept us cool, but it delivered a little head wind. On most rides, the sight of a hill causes fear and panic in the hearts of novice riders. Not on the Reggae Ride. The cyclist tour guides would come up behind cyclist who were having difficulty and place a firm hand on their backs and push them up the hill. I think a few of our riders immediately moved out to the far outside and waited for their Jamaican Pushcart service which was faster up the hill than those of us who powered every hill.

We stopped at the home/hotel of renowned Jamaican artist, Joe James. A cute off the beaten path Hotel Gallery where we were serenaded by kids singing Jamaican folk songs. This was a beautiful little spot to rest and recover before the second leg into Ochi.

We ended our second day ride at ScotchieJerk Restaurant and then headed over to Dunn’s River Falls by bike; some members after lunch were not feeling the bike, so they took the bus. After 70 miles, we did more climbing, but it was climbing the cool steps of the Dunn’s River Falls and enjoying the best massage nature can provide, gallons of water pounding against your sour muscles. After the falls; a few hardy souls rode the final leg to the hotel. Yes, a long day, but after a quick shower, we dispersed across the town of Ochi checking out another set of Jennifer’s recommendations. Jennifer made the tour bus available to us.

The last day was more challenging if you didn’t like rollers. The eastern tip of the island is greener and more mountainous. We were traveling just below the northern portion of the infamous Blue Mountains, home of the finest coffee in the world. The first two days were lots of straight roads with a few climbs. The last day more climbing up and down the hillsides dropping into small hamlets, crossing multiple river bridges and then we got to Black Mountain. Not the longest climb, but definitely the winner for steepness and highest number of hairpin turns. At the top, the folks came out and cheered with us as members came up the apex. The descent was perfect, definitely my favorite section. After a rest stop, we rolled through small towns along the coast heading to Port Antonio and finally ending at the Frenchman’s Cove, a once exclusive hotel of the rich and famous in the 50′s. We had lunch on the beach, hung out at the beach and Active Holidays bused our bike boxes. The bikes were disassembled, loaded onto the bus and we were taken back to Ochi. Next day, we went straight to the airport.

Great adventure with great service. We had access to constant bike repair and tuning. Many of the riders were able to get massages immediately after or during the rides. We were broken into two groups, one for the folks that wanted to roll hard and the second group for those who wanted a more leisurely pace. We made quick stops to see the sights, but every ride was challenging. This is a great ride to see the country up close and personal. We had a lot of encouragement from Jamaicans as we rolled through towns and hamlets. We rolled past a school at recess and the kids stopped everything to cheer us on. Many of riders got great cycling tips from professional cyclist and many of us were humbled by their athletic ability.

For more on the Jamaica Reggae Ride, visit www.jamaicareggaeride.com.

I’ve never cycle toured before, but I sure would like to one day.  To get a taste for what it’s like, today I am posting a story by Maximillian Birkner who did a 9,000km ride across Canada this past summer.

I got home from Afghanistan in May and two weeks later I left to bike across the country. I’ve bike toured twice before, the longest stretch being four weeks, and living in the city I do a lot of commuting this way.

Because of my overseas deployment, preparation had been interesting. My buddy Jono and I had begun planning the trip in December via email. We bounced back and forth for months discussing gear and route plans. Jono knows a lot more about bikes than I do, having been in the industry for years as a racer, and he’d found a bike online called Surly Long Haul Trucker. When I got home it was waiting for me, plus panniers bags from Ortlieb, and another few days of prepping saw us breaking everything down and boxing it for the flight from Vancouver to St. John’s, NL, a nice little town with a deadly night-life that almost killed the trip before we even started.

Here comes the bad bit: We got as far as Clarenville, Newfoundland before the trip’s first hospital visit. Jono, used to carbon-fiber racing bikes, had matched his knees against a steel frame and a load weighing eighty+ pounds, and lost. It goes without saying that he had neglected to train, due to work and time issues, and the only thing that saved me from the same fate were the countless hot days of lugging water and weapons in the desert, moulding iron quads.

It was hard to leave Jono behind, but in the end I carried on alone. Through Newfoundland I had no tent, just a worn-out bivy bag, and most nights I got soaked. By the end of 700km I was nursing a knee injury as well – repetitive stress and over-rotation – but in Corner Brook is saw a doctor who gave me an orthotic insole which helped a lot. That’s also where I got rid of half the luggage – the front two panniers plus the stove. If packing light means eating cold, I’m up for it.

The rest of the Maritimes were good to me. In Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island I bought a one-man tent for a hundred bucks, and Montreal where I stayed for four days in Old Town, was a blast. During my time there it was forty Celsius and humid, the view from Mont Royal hazy, and after dark the clubs downtown throbbed and bounced.

I continued along the St. Lawrence and stayed in Ottawa for another three days, right in time for the Blues Festival, and in Toronto I met a buddy I haven’t seen for several years. The ride in to the big city was easier than I’d expected and three days of the CN tower, Kensington Market, Canada’s Wonderland and Korean BBQ had me ready to roll again.

Wasaga Beach, Manitoulin Island, Sous-Saint Marie and Thunder Bay were all good. Beware the northern route along Lake Superior. If you think you know what hills are, you don’t. The only thing to match it was the Cabot Trail that I detoured for in NS. But it was gorgeous and the lake was warm.

I came out of Ontario via Kenora and spent a day or two in Winnipeg, Manitoba to rest up and meet another friend, Sarah, that I hadn’t seen for years – a nice red-head from summer camp. The Crime Capital’s a nice town, if a little crazy. While i was there three houses burned down, one very close to the hostel. It had been raining a lot and the walkway by the river was flooded, but I biked it anyway. I also went to MEC and got a second tune-up. The Surly is a tough bike and all it needed was gear and brake adjustments. It was already on its second set of tires.

Getting out of Winnipeg in early August, I began feeling some time constraints. My brother’s wedding in Vancouver was coming up on the 24^th. This was one of the reasons I’d gone East-West, unlike most people because they’re afraid of a bit of wind. Long, flat story short, I did the 1500+ km from Winnipeg to Edson Alberta, just east of Edmonton, in 8 days, re-aggravating my knee. Having left the bike at a friend’s place I hitch-hiked home in time for cake and returned a week later to finish the trip. From there it was all I could do to maintain a hundred km a day. Anything more would have turned an aggravated knee into a blown-out mess. The big town behind the Rockies was Prince George and 700km later I hit the Ocean at Prince Rupert and jumped a ferry to Haida Gwaii where I did the final sprint to the Yellowhead Highway Mile Zero at the northern end of Graham Island. On a rainy day in mid-Sept I flew out of Masset – just threw the bike on the plane, no hassle since the airport there is so small, and arrived in Vancouver two hours later – the real end of my trip.

People sometimes ask me what profound ideas I have about Canada and cycling after my epic trip. Usually I just have two things to say: Canada is huge- much bigger than most people think – after all the zig-zags the total distance biked came out to 8924Km. My advice to long-distance cyclists is this; pack light. All along the trip I came across fellow riders under mountains of gear – front and back panniers and large bundles on top their back racks, not to mention elaborate handle bar panniers. If it wont kill you to miss it, don’t bring it. The experience lies in the trip, not the the gear.