Bicycle touring is a passion enjoyed by many. As a rewarding experience on so many levels, it presents travel adventure memories that will stay with you for a lifetime. The Braunstorm Bicycle Tour, an annual seven-day cycling tour sponsored by Braun's Bicycle (Kitchener, Ont.), is one such adventure that takes place the last week of June in a different part of the province each year.

Fully supported with a luggage truck, a repair/technical team, first aid, water and snack breaks, Port-A-Pottys on wheels, and massage therapists, all you need is your bike and the enthusiasm. It's always hot! It's sometimes grueling! But it's always “soooo” much fun. One can only imagine the myriad impressions and feelings on such a trip, so our wacko confederation of cyclists, dubbed the “All About Me Club,” decided that it would be more interesting to describe the journey from seven different perspectives. Here's our report of “life on the tour.”

Meeting Day

After months of preparation and anticipation, road tour day had arrived. As a first-timer to such an event, my anxiety turned up with it. Driving into base camp, energy and excitement were in the air. And the activity was endless: the unloading of vehicles and setting up of camp, techs tuning up bikes, riders registering, the last-minute purchasing at the on-site shop, and the meeting up with old and new friends. As our group met, I marveled at the diversity of our backgrounds. Like at a family reunion, the hugs and kisses, laughter, jokes and jibes were all present. Sitting down to dinner, I received my first taste of keeping your fluid levels up. Pitchers of drink flowed as stories from last year's ride and plans for this year's circled the table. Finishing dinner, we gathered for a creative group picture, one of many that were taken over the duration of the tour.-Shaun Blott

Day One

After more than a year off the bike due to a shoulder injury and feeling very sorry for myself, I decided that it was time to rejoin the Braun Tour. I had missed the previous year's ride, but the friendships I had developed on earlier rides were worth far more than any possible shoulder discomfort. After a spring of poor cycling weather and a lack of proper training, I apprehensively began the first day of the tour. But it was fantastic! The weather was far too hot, the bike seat too hard, the showers too crowded, the massage too welcome, and the friendshipsStoo priceless! The scenery was beautiful, the ride distance comfortable, and the campsite uncrowded compared with previous tours. Lying in my tent that night, I had the most wonderful feeling that I was back home.-Brian Seipp

Day Two

There must be a jolt of exhilaration that a horse feels the moment it is unbridled and released into the pasture. Getting on the bike, clipping in, and taking that first stroke of the pedal, well, that must be similar to the feeling that the horse has. It is a sense of freedom, relief, and joy, unmatched by anything else.

We awoke this morning on the Exeter High School football field. As we slowly spun out of town, warming our stiff muscles, the famous white squirrels could be seen scampering along our route. A light mist periodically cooled us during the day and the tail wind was glorious after the previous day's brutal head wind. We followed gently rolling hills through Varna, where the Women's Auxiliary laid on warm home-baked muffins and cold juice. Down long fast hills, alongside bright-yellow fields of canola, to the Ben Miller Inn, a classy lunch stop for 350 riders.

We rolled into Lucknow, 88 kilometres after our start. There were free slushies, an amazing bakery, and an excellent roast beef dinner at the arena. The legion hall extended its hours, the pool was free, and we were entertained by local singers and dancers. This small town truly distinguished itself with its hospitality, and we were sad to say farewell the next day.-Don Fildey and Alexa Gagne

Day Three

I am awakened at 5:00 a.m., as the Port-A-Potty guy prepares to cart off the plastic oases just before anyone might want to use them. I start the day annoyed that I will have to walk 100 metres and line up with umpteen grumpy keeners who already have their tents down and are about to head out on the road at least an hour and a half before our group will leave.

Today, the “A” team is charged with setting a blistering pace to Port Elgin in order to secure a good campsite for the layover day tomorrow. I am one of those riders who each day requires a pee stop about 10 kilometres out, something that I've probably carried over from childhood car rides with my parents. Of course, your parents would never just leave you by the side of the road. Not so in the case of the “All About Me Club.” Stopping for relief, I watch my “buddies” continue down the road, and the morning heat tells me that I'm about to use up any hydration that may be left. Back on the road, I rack it up to 35 kph and grind in a big gear for 10 minutes in order to reunite with the crew. Bonk! I would suffer for the next 80 kilometres.

With camp established, the evening begins with the usual debate about where to go for dinner. Southampton is agreed upon and, after much fussing with directions and rental vans, we end up on a nice patio at the Old Walker House. It's amazing how quickly a sombre group can erupt into the equivalent of a satisfied concert crowd begging for an encore. Cary announces some exciting and unexpected Rest Day plans, which are cause for great celebration. The party adjourns to the campsite, which leads to a bellowing “SHUT UP!” from a nearby tent. Tami, who can dish out a retort that would send a Doberman running with its tail between its legs, simply cries out “You have a good night, sir!” We erupt into one more group laugh and crawl into bed.-Chris Robinson

Day Four

Surprise! Going to the chapel and… gooonnna get married. Don and Alexa did just that. The planned paddle down the river on our day off was, in actuality, a ruse for a walk down the aisle to celebrate love. Our team started the planning at 8:00 a.m. Elaine arranged for a bagpiper to play at the ceremony, Tami and Erin purchased the bubbles, and Cary found the perfect champagne. The team arrived at the chapel 10 minutes before the start of the ceremony, dressed in fashionable shorts and T-shirts. Let the bagpipes begin. Alexa started her walk down the aisle on Cary's arm. As I stood outside waiting for my signal to walk down the aisle, I smelled the fresh-picked flowers I held in my hand. The beautiful music echoed throughout the chapel, and I realized then that I would never forget this day or that I was part of this ceremony celebrating unconditional love.-Annie McGowan

Day Five

Alas, we have come to Day Five in our adventure, a.k.a. the day of RAGE! Now those who know me might describe me as “the angry one.” I prefer to think of myself as “the passionate one.” Just to get everyone up to speed, here's the deal. Every year, the “A” team picks a day when they say “Let's all ride together.” And every year, I point out that this will not work out and that somebody is going to get dropped. And every year, the chairman emeritus (Cary) promises that “No, really, this year we'll just take it easy; it'll be fine.”

Morning dawns, we gather for breakfast, many laughs are shared, and all is right with the world. The group saddles up and, in single file, we ride through town.

An intermediate slow-rising hill appears on the horizon. The group begins to ascend, I slowly drift back, and frustration enters the world. Cary drops back to help and spite enters the world. I refuse to play catch-up and anger enters the world. The “A” team drops out of sight. It's 17 minutes into the ride and RAGE enters the world. As the first break comes into sight, venomous anger engorges every fibre of my being. The group is gathered there enjoying a Gatorade and it occurs to me that I probably shouldn't talk to anyone.

I get off my bike and try to remain calm as Elaine approaches. She says something (I'm not sure what; the venom has blocked my ears), my mouth opens,Sand I'm off. Rant, rant, rant. Elaine looks hurt and stunned. I know I should say that I am sorry, but my passion prevents me, and I walk away. Cary approaches. I'm on a roll now, look out! “Don't even talk to me. I hate you,” I say. All doe-eyed and innocent, he says, “Why?”

I feel a small vein in my forehead start to pulse and I fear an oncoming aneurysm. Once again, I “passionately” explain my theory as to why we can't ride together. Cary is stunned and speechless. Again, I walk away.

As the day progresses, we all eventually break into our own little groups. Needing to squeeze the venom out, I take an alternate route.

At the end of the day, we all arrive at our destination, each with a different perspective, but all with the same sense of accomplishment and pride. The bond our group has was only made stronger when all was said and done. Adversity does that in any relationship in which forgiveness is available and knowingly unconditional.

The common link in this bizarre collection of people who love each other is a simple bike-I love it! A hot shower, a good meal, a cold beer, a few unspoken apologies, and all is right with the world.-Tami Marchuk

Day Six

It was a Friday like any other Friday. Any other Friday that starts out with riding 90 kilometres in 40°C heat. Leaving the campground, I tried to be a hero and offered to show some lost female cyclists the way out. Turning the recumbent requires one of two things: speed or lots of room. The camp exit offered neither, and I managed to crash directly in front of the once-lost ladies, who now scurried to get out of my way. Masculinity fully in check and put behind, I headed out of town and toward one of the biggest climbs on this year's tour. Climbs are favoured only by a select few, and I'm not one of them. One courageous woman, seeing my desperation, stopped on the top of the hill, took off her shirt, and waved it overhead. The poor soul must have seen the smoke coming off my back tire as I ascended that hill in record time because you have never seen anyone put a shirt back on as fast as she did. When I got to the top I felt like the family dog does when you pretend to throw his toy: “Where did it go? It was here just a minute ago!”

Talent night and a spaghetti dinner awaited us in Palmerston. Braun's presented all of the tour veterans with pins, and we spent our last night together laughing and talking outside our tents.-Terry Willson

Day Seven

Always a melancholy day for me because, while exhausted, I realize that I will not see some of these friends for another year, and I'm not ready to let them go. This year, I've learned how to bake a damp sleeping bag, how to use the word “bucolic” in a sentence, and how to celebrate vulnerability, even when that means admitting to a fear of broccoli. We have invented a new hand signal for roadkill, taken many creative photographs, and endorsed the theory of natural selection in the killing of brain cells. We have been free birds riding in formation on open roads, and crammed more living into seven days than we ever thought was possible. The joy of two-wheeled flight is that for this one week we can shed the harnesses of reality and celebrate just being alive. We can forget our stresses, our conflicts, and our jobs, and focus on the most simple and consequential things: where to eat, where to tent, and where's the pool? We have a bond of dreams, “what ifs,”j and laughter. We are big kids on bicycles, and we are happy. And that is what makes the Braunstorm Bicycle Tour so incredible.

– Elaine Jackson

The All About Me Club
Alexa Gagne, Business Analyst, Waterloo, Ont.
Don Fildey, Businessman, Waterloo, Ont.
Ann McGowan, Massage Therapist, Satatoga Springs, N.Y.
Brian Seipp, Consumer Packaging Estimator, Toronto, Ont.
Cary Steinman, Business Consultant, Toronto, Ont.
Chris Robinson, Independent TV Producer, Toronto, Ont.
Elaine Jackson, Occupational Therapist, Walkerton, Ont.
Erin Parsons, Massage Therapist, Gowanstown, Ont.
Kelly Hurston, Massage Therapist, St. Joseph, Miss.
Shaun Blott, Sales/Marketing, Cleveland, Ohio
Shaun Willson, Student, Wingham, Ont.
Tami Marchuk, Casino Cage and Coin Supervisor, Sarnia, Ont.
Terry Willson, Accountant, Wingham, Ont.

Touring With Brauns (A Division of Braun's Bicycle & Fitness)
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