On my way back to Montréal I found a wonderful part of Ontario that isn't flat! This little spot near Gananoque distracted me for about an hour. The roads are long, with gentle curves and some surprise crests, but mostly safe enough to really wring out the bike. No cops in sight. Slowing down in front of people as a courtesy assured me that I wouldn't have any trouble.
Using the GPS I found my path back to the freeway, and on the way, spotted a berry farm advertising U-Pick currants and gooseberries. I have a healthy obsession with these little fruits, called ribes. The gooseberries are particularly interesting. The skin is green, but mostly transparent, so you can see veins in the flesh. They are firm like grapes, but the skin is thinner. Can't really explain the taste. Maybe like a cross between bitter raspberries and grape?
I was suffering from the heat, yet again, and figured I could use a break, repack my stuff, let my phone charge (again!)
Stacks of large plastic baskets used to collect fruit were pile high against the walls inside the wooden store at the end of the driveway.
At this point I had just a wee spot on my wee: in the tank bag. And here they were showing me 2 liter baskets! No way those berries would make it back to Montréal, except as jam.
I collected some of the small baskets and tried to follow the driving directions that the counter girl had given me, and promptly got lost, had to go back and admit defeat. On the second try I got it. Right next to the irrigation pond of course!
Oh, it would be an understatement to say that I was ecstatic. I was deftly stabbing my hands into the squat bushes, trying to extract berries and in turn getting stabbed as punishment for my haste. I got a bit too excited about the gooseberries when I found the blackcurrents and redcurrents, I hardly had any room left in the two baskets.
The redcurrants are small, and difficult to harvest because the skin is so sensitive to pulling. I tried using a technique where I pull from the top of the bunch to the bottom, trying to shear the berries off, but it was just making a bloody-looking mess. Just as I was getting the technique down, I heard a blast of air, and then the sound of water splashing back down. The irrigation pond was behind me. It almost sounded like a whale, when it comes to the surface to expel a breath through its blow-hole. What the hell? I made it a point not to turn around immediately--I wanted to play it cool.
I continue picking a few more berries, then turn to see a man, in a scuba mask, face half submerged, breathing muddy bubbles out the sides of his snorkel mouthpiece. I said nothing. In retrospect I should have said something! Sometimes things we encounter in the day-to-day are just so strange, that we don't know how to react. I didn't know how to respond to a man, all geared up, swimming in a muddy irrigation pond.
I continued picking.
A minute later he gets out of the pond, takes of his flippers, gathers his things, and walks by, give me a nod and a grunt. I could barely hold back my smile as I said, "hey". The strange thing was that he was in swimming in simple swim trunks. If he had been in a wetsuit, it would have added some legitimacy.
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