Cape Breton BikeFest

Sydney, Nova Scotia, July 29–Aug. 1—Cape Breton didn’t look that far away on the map, but my odometer told me I’d ridden 1,042 miles from Montreal—and my butt confirmed this fact. It might seem disproportionate to journey 2,100 miles just to travel a road that’s only 186 miles in length, but I’d always dreamed of making this ride. The Cabot Trail is one of the most popular stretches of motorcycling pavement in eastern North America and this July the third annual Cape Breton BikeFest was held in Sydney, Nova Scotia.

It had been a long day of great riding and although the event was going strong by the time I arrived at the Comfort Inn in Sydney on Friday, I decided to simply kick back with a pizza and cold beer instead of spending a late night of revelry. There’s always tomorrow.

Most of the BikeFest events took place around the Nova Scotia Casino on George St. in Sydney, where everyone had the opportunity to feed the slots in exchange for a free drink. Saturday morning I visited the 30 or so vendors that offered jewelry, leathers, accessories, custom seats, saddlebags, tires, pipe upgrades and so on. Two days of hard riding had me dropping $140 for a gel insert for my saddle. I sauntered over to the burnout pit to watch some Joes burn their $250 tires in less than one minute. It was money up in smoke for the pleasure of the crowd—and to feed the tire vendors! The Wall of Death was performing every hour on the hour and attracted a good crowd, cheering the stuntmen as they rode inside a 30-foot diameter wooden cylinder.

I had the opportunity to chat with Leah Boyd, who, along with her husband Scott and daughter Nicole, organized this event. BikeFest requires a full year of preparation, but after three years they’ve got it down and she already had some new ideas for next year. I fell into conversation with other riders as we checked out the bikes—mostly Harleys, but also some Japanese customs, trikes, rat bikes and sport tourers. Before I knew it the day was being wrapped up with junk food and beer.

BikeFest organized a number of escorted rides around Cape Breton, but I decided to create my own tour. Sunday morning the rain was coming down hard and I didn’t hit the road until 11:00. I rode down Highway 105 past Baddeck and turned onto the Cabot Trail to Margaree Harbour. On the way I stopped in Middle River at MacKenzie Motorsports, the only bike garage on the Cabot Trail. Jim MacKenzie has operated his garage with his partner Dereck Macdonald for almost 30 years. The garage is open six days a week, but he showed me around despite my coming in on a Sunday. They can fix just about any bike, whether H-D or metric, and carry a full range of tire sizes. They also do pickups with a trailer anywhere on the Cabot Trail, so tuck their contact info (902.295.3221, jim.gasit@ns.aliantzinc.ca) in your wallet just in case.

I reached the Gulf of St. Lawrence at Margaree Harbour and followed the coast north to Chéticamp. This is Acadian country where brightly painted houses in colors like red, yellow and turquoise are a cultural tradition. Here you can go whale watching, fishing or have a drink at a terrace while enjoying some fresh seafood and talking with friendly people. Unlike other Acadian regions this one has adopted the Celtic music and some of the traditions from the island’s Gaelic settlers, which makes for a very unique experience.

North of Chéticamp the trail started to slowly climb towards the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. The visitor center was the place to familiarize oneself for what lies ahead, as well as pick up maps and use the restrooms. I made the climb up French Mountain and marveled at the views the Cabot Trail is famous for—and that was the beginning of a roller coaster ride. The road turned inland, crossed a plateau and then followed a narrow ridge with dramatic drops on both sides. I climbed over MacKenzie Mountain and descended through a series of hairpin corners. The view was fantastic with glimpses of the ocean, but I couldn’t keep my eye off the pavement for more than a fraction of a second at a time as I wound down to Pleasant Bay. I felt like a kid in a candy store riding on this beautiful two-lane asphalt ribbon.

The Cabot Trail cut inland, again climbing North Mountain and running across the highlands to Cape North. On the east side of the northernmost tip of Cape Breton Island is a tiny place called Meat Cove, but I was advised the gravel road is not suitable for a fully-loaded touring bike and after that morning’s rain I reluctantly passed on this 24-mile round trip.

I had been warned to plan at least a full day to ride the Cabot Trail. Even though the actual ride is only 186 miles, you want to stop every 10 minutes to take pictures, contemplate the view and feel the breeze of the Atlantic Ocean at the numerous lookouts spread along the trail. I talked with several riders who had ridden the trail twice during the week, once clockwise and once counter-clockwise. Both offer different views worth doing a second time—plus how many times will you travel all the way to Cape Breton and ride the infamous Cabot Trail? You might as well do it twice while you’re here.

My late start meant that I was behind schedule. I stopped in Ingonish at the Coastal Pub for a bite to eat and a cold brew while listening to Celtic music. A Cabot Trail T-shirt was added to my bag. This is the only place on earth where these shirts are sold so you have to ride here to get it.

I had to slow down while riding along the eastern coast, especially coming down Smokey Mountain. There’s only a little bit of metal guardrail between pavement and the ocean far below. It’s 60 miles from Ingonish to Indian Brook where I was faced with the option of taking a five-minute ferry crossing—more wait than crossing—or continuing for 10 miles through St. Anns to Highway 105 and then back to Sydney.

There was no time to stop in Sydney: I had to Storm the Fortress and was already late! The British captured Louisburg in 1745, gave it back in 1748, and returned to attack and overwhelm it again in 1758. The Fortress of Louisburg is a national historic site and one of the largest historical reconstructions in North America. Locked in time, it’s always 1744 where muskets and mortars, women in hoop skirts and men in wigs, town criers and the iron collar are part of everyday life. This was one of the main events of Cape Breton BikeFest, and the only time of the year when motorcycles are allowed through the gates and onto the actual grounds of the fortress.

After three hours at the fortress we got a police escort along Highway 22 back to Sydney where the BikeFest was wrapping up with a parade. Fire trucks, horses and buggies, bands, majorettes, charity wagons—and of course motorcycles—all joined the party.

I blew off the concerts with the intention of retiring only to find there was a casual party in the parking lot of my hotel. It seemed only appropriate to enjoy a beer while exchanging great experiences touring Cape Breton.

Two days simply wasn’t enough. Next year I’ll plan a week to ride the other fantastic roads of Cape Breton during Thunder in the Highlands.