The Spoked Traveller | Seeking culture, adventure and a good story
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The Spoked Traveller

It never occurred to me to leave my bike at home on my first overseas trip. Twenty years later, nothing has changed. Whether at home, or in a foreign country, riding makes me feel closer to people and places.

I created this site as a hub for all things cycling; it’s a celebration of bike culture. Where to travel next, how to travel, where to get advice, see some cool practical bike fashion, what to eat. I’ll share what I know; and I invite you to do the same.

Over the next few months keep checking in as I’ll be adding some new menu items.

See you on the trails. Melanie

"Look at its tiny head!" says Vieve, pointing at the dinosaur's skeleton that spans the entire length of the museums's foyer. vieve day one ROM IMG_1436                           This is Genevieve Sebastian's interpretation of Little Head at the ROM. Perched on top of its body, its head is almost smaller than mine. That's the funny thing with evolution: big heads progress confirming that nerds will eventually take over the planet. Yahoo.   I'm at the Royal Ontario Museum that has been on Bloor and Avenue Road in Toronto since 1914; it's one of North America's largest museums of natural history, culture and art that pulls in over one million visitors a year. Here are a few of my favourites on my first ever visit. But, a bit of background. IMG_1354                   The ROM. Some love it; some hate it, architecturally speaking, of course.

For the last few weeks my head feels like a piñata full of bits and pieces of Toronto. And, in two days it's about to be cracked open! I will be traipsing around Toronto, biking through neighbourhoods like Little Malta, Little Jamaica, and sailing on Lake Ontario, strutting around the nude beach on the islands, and getting punished in a Russian bathhouse in the burbs, in search of a new Toronto adventure--just like I would on any other trip. The July Project (TJP) is the culmination of over four months of reading about Toronto, and constantly asking locals, 'If you had to recommend one place, or one thing to do or see in Toronto, what would you suggest?'

"I feel like I'm on a glacier pad, alone. Then,  someone kicks the pad, launching it into the ocean." This is my mind-set the day before my third mountain bike race; naturally, any sane person would ask: why am I doing this? It's because once you start, something takes over. The competitor comes out and wants to race. So far, I've placed second and then 5th, after a flat tire bumped me off the podium. But I'm learning each race has its own physical and mental challenges; this one would prove to be the hardest in both respects. Despite pre-riding the course at Horseshoe Resort twice, the most I'd ever done, advantageous, but I still had to dismount my bike on some tricky sections. And when my tire flopped around on the trail, I didn't have the aggression or the will to control it. That worried me. But some of my doubt was also from hormones. Yes, that time when whack-mode takes ahold: every emotion you've ever experienced could come hurling out at someone who had the nerve to ask, 'what time is it?'