We rode through rocky, hilly forest interrupted frequently by marshes.
You could say there wasn't much to see but I wasn't bored by the scenery. Every marsh had a different combination of dead and dying trees, water, reeds and grasses.
I didn't mind the hills, either. Every few minutes there was a new challenge. Each hill had a climbing phase where I was only concerned with getting to the top, and a descending phase where I happily reaped the reward for the hard work. This broke up the ride and made time pass much more quickly than those long days in the prairies.
Even Jim, who used to grumble at the mention of hills, wasn't complaining. I rode with him most of the day and was amazed at how much his fitness has improved since Vancouver.
Also seen on today's ride, the longest place name ever:
Unfortunately, my GPS totally flaked out today so I have no track to share. Grrr.
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