"Eight or ten cyclists at the side of the road always look as if they've crashed, regardless of what they're doing. A mishmash of metal and rubber and bodies in various positions. Motorists slow down and crane their necks to look at what they expect to be carnage. We often disappoint their vicarious thrills; typically, it's just a couple of riders having a pee."

When you take a bicycle trip spanning 7,500 kilometres, anything can happen. And in 66 Days With Satan, it does. During his cross-Canada journey, the author encounters drunken cowboys in Jeeps, a swarm of locusts, relentless headwinds, rabid dogs and homicidal truck drivers. But most importantly, he reawakens the simple childhood joy of riding a bike.

"Let me dispel a myth right here: the prairies are not flat. There are hills. Lots of them. There are flat parts, sure, but just as many hilly parts. And some damned nasty shoulders. Bone-rattling, ass-fatiguing shoulders."

66 Days With Satan captures the diversity of the country and the people who inhabit it. Alternately humorous and dramatic, the story appeals to those who love bicycles, those who love travel, and those who love Canada.

"Robert Pirsig wrote that mountains should be climbed at a pace between boredom and exhaustion. Which is exactly the pace at which the country should be travelled. Certainly, our trip had moments of both boredom and exhaustion, but in between we had moments of laughter, of pain, of disappointment, and of pure gratitude that we were lucky enough to see such a magnificent country, one pedal stroke at a time."