In the months leading up to this international road trip, there had been endless doctors' visits, life-changing negotiations, and nearly insurmountable fundraising. Then, one day, Daniel, The Cabot Trail Biker, had finally received special permission to be transported across the border from Canada to the USA, mid-pandemic, for a surgery to fuse his skull to his neck. Dan’s condition had been an undiagnosed mystery in Canada. Then, after countless days and countless questions, a specialist in New York City determined he had Craniocervical Instability. A debilitating diagnosis that could have killed him if it weren’t for his relentless pursuit to find a solution. A year and a half previous to this day, he’d hit an improperly installed ski rail while riding the slopes. This accident caused his alar and traverse ligaments to hyperextend, which eventually caused his skull to settle onto the top of his spine. This then caused brainstem compression with a myriad of serious symptoms. The only way to reduce symptoms was by lying down to relieve the pressure, but even then, for reasons unexplained, he was often thrown into a seizure-like episode called dystonia. It was Labor Day, and I was in the town of Truro, Nova Scotia. I’d come to see the tidal bore, a natural phenomenon where the world's largest tides from the Bay of Fundy push water up the Salmon River, causing it to flow in reverse with such force you could surf upstream. As it was a holiday, I was meeting The Cabot Trailer Biker at one of the few establishments that was open, McDonald's. In a quest for incredible Canadian cuisines, the irony reflecting off the golden arches was not lost on me. Daniel showed up on a rumbling Harley that could be heard before it was seen, decked out in a matching leather Harley jacket, a bug-swallowing smile on his face, and was an open book about his life. For a guy who could have been dead several times over, he was clearly delighted to just be alive, tell his story, and show an outsider some local hospitality. Lucky for me, I was that outsider. What I thought was going to be a quick Mc-meet and greet before riding up to his home near Antigonish for an afternoon lobster boil quickly turned into over an hour of stories from a guy who's lived a full life and is happy to keep living it. We talked about a private-labeled beer he sells, and a photo I saw where he had strapped two kegs to the back of his Harley before cat-walking off to a dinner party. We touched on his printing press business and that one time in his twenties when he landed in the back of a cop car after a police chase, doing 190km/hr on his motorbike, trying to meet a deadline for some custom t-shirts. We talked about the family's multigenerational history in the area, and we talked about the recent struggles to claw back some normalcy into his life. He capped off the highlights with an overview of a documentary he did with Harley Davidson, Common Ground, where they match Harley riders from around the globe with Canadian Harley riders to show them a taste of Canada. I like a guy with life experience, and clearly, Dan had a lot of it. Of all of these, it was the fight to survive the Craniocervical Instability that had me focused intently on the conversation. There is something about a guy who fought for his life, staring you in the eyes, telling you his story of survival that seems to fully captivate one's attention, and reminds you of your own mortality. You could imagine what the price tag might be associated with your life, but he’s one of the few people I’ve met who had literally been given a figure, $207,000 USD. Dan's a man who loves a goal, and with this amount in mind, his family and his community came together to successfully raise these funds. He said that of all the funds they raised from all the people he knew or didn't know, friends, and fundraisers, there was one lady that he’ll truly never forget. She’d read an article about what he was going through and what it would take to get his life back on track. The lady called him to explain that she didn’t have a lot of money and was unable to support him financially; however, she was really good at praying. She said she would pray for him every day. She actually called him up and explained to him not to worry, there was more to this than finances, and he now had her and God on his side. At this point, I’m sure the other patrons sipping their $1 coffee and eating their chemically preserved muffins were probably wondering why the bearded Harley biker and the dirty traveling biker were staring at each other, tearing up like two kids whose Happy Meals had just fallen on the floor. Extended introductions aside, I’d come here at the suggestion of another biking foodie who said that if I was looking for lobster and was into motorcycles, this was undoubtedly my guy. With that, we left and headed towards the Northumberland Strait with me in Dan’s rearview mirror, searching for the bounty of the Strait. Like any good biker, Dan’s constantly keeping an eye on me to make sure I don’t fall behind on my dirtbike, get lost, or miss anything he’s trying to point out along the way. If I hadn’t heard the story he’d just told me, I’d think he’d slept funny the night before. In order to see me or get my attention for something, he couldn't spin his head sideways to look at me, as his vertebrae were now fused together. These days, Dan has to twist from his waist instead of his neck. Literally a full torso twist to look behind himself to see me. There was no casual shoulder check in his world anymore, no half-cocked sideways glance; for Dan, it’s a full-bodied hip check. I’m not sure the word is funny, but to see how much effort he had to put into a simple glance to the right or left was a mix of entertaining and inspiring, considering all he had to go through to get back on that bike. We arrived just up the hill from his place to a family event, which I basically crashed, recruited him, his cousin, and son Emerit before heading out for some off-road adventure. In the driveway sits a brand new Can-Am HD10 Defender Limited side-by-side. This off road machine is next level, with room for six, leather seats, AC, power windows, and is about the size of a 90’s model Suzuki X-90. Glistening in the sun, it looks like they’d just unloaded it from the dealership trailer. Compared to the last six months on the cardboard seat of my Honda 250, this might as well be a Lincoln Navigator. Daniel hands me a helmet and the keys and tells me to drive. Welcome to the Redline Lobster Ride! We immediately hit the backroads, 4x4ing up a mountainside. I’m scared as hell to scratch this thing while he’s suggesting from the backseat that I should be going faster and cornering harder. Eventually, Dan’s satisfied with the amount of dirt on the Can-Am and directs us out of the hills and across a field to the Lobster Interpretive Center. A building on the wharf for all things lobster, including a couple of unique display lobsters. One blue, a result of a protein deficiency, and considered to be a one in two million find. As well as a cotton candy lobster, considered to be a one in a hundred million find. Yum, cotton candy lobster! Lucky for them, neither was for sale.  Just outside of Arisaig, and just up the hill from the interpretive center, we make our way back to the home of Daniel and his wife, Shauna. A family and home with significant history in Nova Scotia. Overlooking the ocean sits this incredible barn-red house that's been in the family for six generations, and was carted here with horses two centuries ago. The front steps lead out to a pool, accented by mini golf greens where a number of lobsters from the interpretive center await their next dinner party. Dan draws in my wandering attention from the stunning surroundings and has me focus on him and the large steel pot before us. He wants to make sure I get the details of the recipe exactly right. First, a series of frosty Alexander Keiths beers are distributed to everyone. Once cracked, a light smoke rolls out from under the caps as their chilled contents interact with the warm summer air. From here, a pot of boiling water fresh from the Northumberland Strait is brought to a boil on the edge of the putting greens while we hit a few practice balls, waiting for bubbles in the pot. Next, the lobsters are tipped, head down, and rubbed on their backs to put them to sleep. Then, they’re debanded, bid farewell, and quickly placed into the bubbling lobster spa, sealed with a lid. Over the course of about fifteen minutes, we hit a couple of balls, opened another round of Keiths, and I’ve officially had my longest round of golf since 2004. Dan sinks a ten foot hole in one, checks the time, pulls the lid, and determines our dinner guests are ready. The water is drained back towards the Strait from which it came, lobsters are loaded into the pool room, and Shauna lights a few candles around an elegantly set dining area that makes the dusty ball cap and red neckerchief I’m wearing feel a tad underdressed. She then pours a round of Tidal Bay white wine from Nova Scotia's Annapolis Valley, and we toast to new friends and the bounty of the region. Over the sounds of cracking claws and clinking glasses, I finally piece together how this all came to be. During the Common Ground documentary organized by Harley Davidson to celebrate their 100th birthday in Canada, they recruited hosts from across the country to show riders from other countries incredible Canada. Daniel had to come up with a once-in-a-lifetime experience for his rider from India that showcased the uniqueness of Nova Scotia. He landed on a biker's tour of the amazing Cabot Trail, stopping to meet the locals, dance, drink, see the sights, and finish with an authentic lobster boil. This soon morphed into a bookable multi-day excursion he’s tagged the Cabot Trail Biker Lobster Tour. The heart-pounding, motorcycle ride, mountainside side by side tour, and lobster boil express version I was treated to today, I’ve since dubbed The Cabot Trail Bikers Redline Lobster Ride. I spent the night in the same van Dan had been driven to New York in, strapped to the bed, awaiting his fate. The surgery that saved him almost killed him. While in the hospital, he contracted an infection — but it didn’t end there. To operate, the surgeon needed access to the base of his skull, and an incision was made through the dura. This created a pathway for bacteria to enter his brain. As Daniel was en route home to Nova Scotia, his meninges — the protective layers around the brain and spinal cord — began to swell from a severe form of bacterial meningitis with an 80% mortality rate. This infection can cause bleeding in nearby tissues, including structures around the vertebrae. Daniel also developed internal bleeding in his gastrointestinal tract, just below the stomach. Back at home, his digestive system shut down, and he lost consciousness. His wife, Shauna, heard him fall and found him on the bathroom floor with two black eyes — unconscious and unknowingly bleeding internally. During COVID, in their small town, there was a one-in-six chance of getting a hospital bed on arrival. Fortunately, they made room. While being treated for the GI bleed, Daniel spiked a fever. Doctors performed a spinal tap and discovered a bacterial infection in his cerebrospinal fluid. They administered life-saving antibiotics just in time, reducing the dangerous swelling in his meninges. I’ve used the expression scared for my life a number of times, but this was the real deal. One thing after another nearly snuffed out Dan’s existence, and here I was staring up at the same ceiling he’d been staring up at, wondering if he’d ever get back in this van again. I know a guy whose heart pumps via a VAD (Ventricular Assist Device), and a battery pack that's strapped to his chest and integrated into his body to keep him alive. He seems delighted to just be anywhere, doing anything. Literally anything, just being, just living, just enjoying another day. It's easy to find a bottomless pit of I can't wait till Friday, I hate the government, why me, poor me, look at my situation, people, and I’m not in their situation and don’t know what it’s like. But to hang out with people who find pure joy in just “being" is like listening to the laughter of a child tickled to the point of nearly explosive bliss. That pure, raw, untainted joy. It's fascinating to hang out with people like this, people who are living out a second, third, or potentially last chance. The bike tour with new friends, the putting green and pool for a bit of simple family fun, the small pool room/dining room for impromptu lobster boils over candlelight and crisp Nova Scotia wine with random travelers. It was a life designed for maximum joy from the simplest of moments. If you find yourself on the great Canadian Cabot Trail and are looking for a full-blooded Bluenoser to take you along on two wheels via the locals' trail of a Nova Scotia classic, look up the Cabot Trail Biker Lobster Tour, or if you’re lucky, you might end up on my express version, I’ve dubbed The Redline Lobster Ride. The experience might not improve your golf game, but it’s guaranteed to improve your outlook on life.  How I Felt Mid-Day :) Recipe:
 Dinner in the pool house. Me, Dan and his wife Shauna. Dan's cousin Chantel and his nephew Josh.
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