Now that I've visited every community and driven almost every highway here, forest access roads and the provincial T'Railway hold even greater appeal.

I figured I'd see more of the provincial T'Railway by packing up the bicycle and going for a short jaunt from Joyce to Heatherton, using the old railway bed turned multi-use path.

Leaving Joyce, the first place I came to was the booming hamlet (~8 houses) of St. Teresa. This is actually the St. Teresa Station portion of St. Teresa; where the community has more people out on the NL-403 highway three km to the north of here.

I was already pretty excited that my bicycle could get me to St. Teresa after only 6 km, where it would normally be 10 km of driving by road.

This area of Southwestern Newfoundland is home to a lot of gentle rivers that slowly meander from the Long Range Mountains out to sea. Cycling along, even though it was slow going, the frequent bridges left me excited to see new infrastructure.

This is a view of Middle Brook from the Middle Brook Bridge.

Cycling was going rougher than expected. Not only was I out of shape and not used to pushing my bike through deep gravel, there was also lots of loose gravel, ATV ruts and someone had recently trimmed the Alders that squeeze in the sides of the T'Railway. They inexplicably threw the cut Alders onto the trail, which isn't much trouble for dirt bikes or ATVs, but spells trouble for bicycles.

Therefore the plan of going all the way to Heatherton or maybe Fischells was thrown out. Crossing the Fischells River Bridge, I then vowed to make it to one more bridge and soon crossed Rattling Brook, comically close to the fields of Heatherton.

I was excited that I collected one more bridge from the list on the T'Railway website.

The aforementioned Fischells River Bridge was impressive. This wasn't the standard issue bridge over Middle Brook, or the rudimentary bridge over Rattling Brook, but rather a bridge big enough that you thought about the trains that used to pass over the waterway here. And that's not to mention the extra stature it gains today from the added wooden decking and handrails.

Pausing atop the Fischells River, I looked down to find an ATV path leading to a gorgeous, gravel clearing right in the shadow and underneath the remarkable bridge. Bridges like this might be found in every Belle River or LaSalle back home, but they're not that common here and I was really digging this place.

Riding back, the drizzle stopped and it was now a hot day. With thoughts of getting back to the car and getting home, I started to pay less attention to the Alders and that's when they got me. One of the garden hose-sized sticks shot into my back wheel and lodged itself into the spokes and derailleur. My pedaling came to an instant stop.

By my estimation I was still about 10 or 15 kilometers from the car. I could walk back, but that was a 3 hour proposal and not very enticing in this heat. Thankfully I had a few emergency items in my bag, and realizing the derailleur wouldn't pull back and keep the chain moving, I fashioned a my metal clamp around the derailleur and the frame. This kept the derailleur in place and allowed me to crank 2 or 3 times before the pedals would lock up.

So it was 2 or 3 cranks, then complete lock up, then back pedal, then 2 or 3 cranks, over and over for 10ish kilometers (6ish miles).

I was certainly relieved when I popped out into the homes and horses of Joyce NL.

Travel has a funny way of leading to more travel.

By cycling along the T'Railway and passing over the Fischells, I now longed to camp in that spectacular spot alongside the river.

To mix it up a bit, and because I knew I would only be cycling half the distance today, I left from St. George's (highway 461 area) instead of Joyce (highway 403 area). This brought me over the even more remarkable Flat Bay Brook bridge.

Where I liked the Fischells River, I absolutely loved Flat Bay Brook. As I long and grow nostalgic about my time on Anticosti Island, and often ponder why parts of Newfoundland aren't similar to Anticosti since we're at the same latitude, Flat Bay Brook reminded me of Anticosti and brewed up that joy in my heart.

This Flat Bay Brook Bridge isn't that far from the road and I recommend the walk. I often think about simply walking here when I'm in the area.

As I was only cycling about 23km (15mi) today, it wasn't long before I found myself descending with brief glimpses of the Fischells River Bridge off in the distance between the breaks in the trees. No one was around and I quietly rolled my bike down to the river and beneath the bridge.

The granite piers and abutments to this bridge come from Quarry up on the Gaff Topsails, a place I've explored previously. I entertained the idea of wading over to the bridge footings, but it wasn't really weather for getting wet since it was overcast and somewhat chilly.

An impressive gypsum rock wall stands on the other side of the Fischells, a stark contrast of white against the rusty bridge and the green landscape. The nearby Flat Bay Mine ships out gypsum for use in Gyprock and cement.

Even though I was only 2.5km from a western view out over the Atlantic Ocean, the light of the day simply dimmed instead of erupting in some spectacular sunset showcase. I was still happy to wander about next to the rocky banks of the Fischells.

For the first time on the island ever, I carefully packed away all of my toiletries/food and hung them from a distant tree. This is all because of Clarkson, who couldn't comprehend that black bears here are skittish and have enough space not to bother humans. He got in my head enough, and this river seemed like bear country enough, that I grew worried and decided better safe than sorry.

And then as I was rolling out of my tent in the morning, five feet from my tent, there it was - someone's discarded breast of Mary Brown's fried chicken. Smh. Good thing I took all of those precautions.

God I love the old granite footings of these Newfoundland Railway bridges. They were even nicer after the sun finally decided to come out in the morning.

The sun only came out after I woke up to overcast skies and arriving rain showers as I went downriver to explore. Rushing back to the cover of the bridge and the tent, I wasn't that happy with how far I walked down the Fischells, but I didn't feel like tripping over all of the football-sized stones again.

Packing up everything into the panniers, it was a casual, sunny roll back to St. George's after a great night below the Fischells River Bridge.