We started to adjust to the sun's schedule, and rose early at the Lakeside campground. Riding through beautiful farm country, we made stops at farm stands and an Amish grocery. The calm, peaceful ride was suddenly interrupted, when a pothole set off a quick series of events that threw Michael off his bike. It was a scary experience, but he got away in good health and spirits, with a few scrapes and soreness. The crash happened right in front of a nurse's house, so she helped out, and we took an early lunch.
Mike felt good to ride, so we continued with our original plan to cross into Canada at Niagara Falls. After another pleasant, perhaps more vigilant ride, we reached the Rainbow Bridge and the Falls. We readied our passports and I played my harmonica as we waited to cross the border.
By the time we got across, checked out the falls, and had dinner, it was dark. Our sleeping options were a distant Warm Showers host and an expensive campsite. As we considered a third way—stealth camping—a police officer pulled up and asked if we needed help. I asked if we could sleep in the nearby park pavilion, and he said we could, but then he told us of a quieter field we could sneak into to pitch our tents. He told us that he would go there later to check on us, and we rode toward the field, impressed with the kindness of Canadian police. As we were looking for a good spot to set up, the cop returned with a new idea: we could sleep in the maintenance building. He led us there, showed us around, and recommended that we leave before 6, or the staff might freak out and...call him. He didn't even ask for our names, and left us with, "don't bust anything, don't steal anything, welcome to Canada." We took showers, cooked breakfast in the lunch room, and felt at home, the safest squatters in the North America.
This cop confirms good things one hears about Canadians
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