One bike. One change of clothes. One toothbrush. One small pack on my back. Six glorious days of cycling this infamous loop in Cape Breton. Through a National Park, three massive climbs, trials to jump off and hike along, instructions on how to respond to bears, coyotes and wolves in pocket. East coast kitchen parties with fiddles and guitars and small town fun, laughter at the beginning and end and everywhere in between. "You're cycling this alone?" I would be asked, too often, along the way. "Yes, solo, but never alone," I would respond.