Most days starting in Hotels, like today, start slowly. My inner alarm drags me out of bed just before eight and I enjoy the delightful breakfast provided by the hotel. Fruitloops and half of a chocolate muffin (mmm health food). Meagan joins me a few minutes into my repast, and I cannot help but notice that there is a distinct lack of conversation or anything resembling affability. Well Ok.
So back in the room, packing starts, Meagan walks in, and she says what's on her mind. She didn't want to go out last night, she was tired, and upset especially since when we were at dinner she felt that barely anyone paid attention to her even though she is biking across the damn country. And not only that, she now has light brown smudges (big freckles) on her face that won't wash away. Well Ok.
After a few minutes of walking through all the things that are bugging her, I let her know that Gloria is sad she left in the way she did, and perhaps a phone call to clean up the mess would be appropriate. That done, the world is once more a good and happy place and we leave.
Rolling down the hill we are on the lookout for a grocery store for some basic supplies as well as a new change of clothes for Meagan (she has lost two waist sizes worth of weight since we left Vancouver!). I go to a bike shop for a quick tune up and do some banking on the way out of town so Meagan is once again a good way ahead of me by the time I am on the road.
Not long into my ride I notice that road has suddenly become rather bumpy. Flat tire. Off the bike, remove the luggage, flip the bike, remove the tire, the tube, pull the staple, patch the hole and reverse.
A few minutes pass as I get back up to speed against a gentle headwind. This is short lived though; just as I crest small hill just down the road my rear wheel makes a noise.
Plink.
Oh great, a broken spoke. Off the bike, remove the luggage, flip the bike, remove the tire, the tube, pull the spoke, and.... start searching for spare spokes in my luggage and find three. Cool. So I fit a spare, replace the tire and spend a couple minutes truing the wheel which involves a small amount of tightening and loosening.
Ok here we go again. On the bike, I take on the next couple of kilometers. The terrain is now much more luxurious with trees and thick foliage along side. It's while I am enjoying the change in scenery I notice a truck which seems to be filled with canon balls. Seriously. I think that they are pressured through pipelines to flush and clean them, or something.
Well, that was cool, except that I don't make it very far down the road when my wheel makes another sound.
Plink.
Plink.
Gah, two spokes at once. So off the bike again I set to work and use my last two spares. Well, no problem, I'll pick up some in Salmon Arm tomorrow. The thought of Salmon Arm jogs something in the back of my mind. I think a friend of mine (John Molberg) has a cabin there which he mentioned he would offer for the night, so I give him a call, which unfortunately goes to his answering machine, but I leave a message letting him know I am in the area.
Looking around, the sun is behind an overcast sky and the trees along the road are batting back and forth under winds which haven't figured out quite which direction they want to go. Any pizzaz at riding has left me and all I can think of is how grueling it will be to go to Salmon Arm in these conditions. hmm, well there is nothing for it, so away I go.
The road flattens considerably from here on out and although I am not exactly "feeling it" I am making respectable time down the highway, the sun comes out and pretty soon I am feeling good and ready. I see Meagan's bike leaning against the wall of a gas station across from the village of Pritchard. She is sitting and glumly looking out at the world.
Talking with her, she is on the verge of tears, and explains how tired she is and how she biked 95 kilometers yesterday and feels so unloved. My comment that I want to go to Salmon Arm this evening to meet Xavier lands on unhappy ears, and she derisively barks at me that she doesn't know why she is on a stupid bike trip anyways. In response, I tell her that when she is like this, my feelings get hurt, then tell her to come into the gas station to get some food. Looking back on this now, I clearly missed her unspoken request at this particular point in the day.
Mellowed out, she gets up and comes with me, and is standing outside the shop when it comes time to purchase my drink. A loud racket and clang gets my attention pretty quickly, and looking outside I find Meagan cross legged in the dirt sobbing and inconsolable. Between sobs and onlookers asking if she OK, she tells me she tripped down the stairs and slammed into a metal garbage can. Now though, she won't stop crying, and after two or three minutes I get the communication, this has nothing to do with the pain of the accident. I think to myself, "Meagan, you small petty manipulative human being, you can't just ask for what you want can you..." and I sit down on a bench next to her, open and down my newly acquired juice and wait for her to finish crying. It takes a few minutes, and when she does, I say, "Well, why don't we just go a bit more down the road to the town of Chase and stay there for the evening".
Instantly Meagan's entire demeanor shifts. I don't think I could have more accurately captured what she really wanted for this evening.
We pick her up out of the gravel and wave goodbye to the town of Pritchard. As per usual I pull somewhat ahead of her over the course of the 18 KM between Pritchard and Chase, and am alone when along the way that I hear an all to familiar sound...
Plink
Plink
Two broken spokes
And before I can get off the bike to inspect.
Plink
Drat, three broken spokes. Well, what to do. I have no spares. The wheel in considerably out of true at this point and is rubbing against the break every revolution. Pulling out my spoke wrench, I adjust the worst of the wobble out of the wheel so it at least roles unhindered. At least now the bike is functional.
My cell phone rings. It's John Molberg. I catch him up to date on my trip and he lets me know that Mitzy (his sister, who I have taken seminars with at various times) is actually at his cabin this weekend. He gives me her number, and wishes me luck. My call to Mitzy goes to voicemail, and as before I leave a message and get back on my bike. Riding with a wobbly wheel, although not exactly challenging is not the most comfortable experience in the world, partly because of the noticeable wobble, but mostly because of the anxiety caused by waiting for the next spoke to plink.
Limping into Chase, I arrive at a gas station just on the east end of town, and as I role up the driveway.
Plink. Argh.
The wheel made the plink; I made the argh.
Well, that's it for today I think to myself. No more cycling until this damn wheel is working properly. I can see Meagan coming up behind me now, and I go inside to see what provisions are available. To my surprise, the gas station has much more than just the standard array of chips and pop, although these are certainly in abundance, it also functions as a modest grocery store.
Meagan arrives and I bring her up to date with my circumstance. We are now aligned that Chase will be our endpoint tonight for sure unless, perhaps Mitzy is able to bring us into Salmon Arm. Of course, that is only a maybe, since I haven't even spoken with her yet. Conversation ensues with the proprietor and her family, and I soon learn that their son (Sorry I forgot your name!) is a former cross Canadian cyclist as well. After a while I notice that there is Internet access here at the gas station and pull out my laptop to check on the status of my friends from around the world.
Meagan, sitting across from me takes the opportunity to explain something that is on her mind. She says that ever since she was a young person her mother has been really concerned about protecting her family in the event of the imminent end of world due to some sort of cataclysmic natural disaster. She continues by explaining that she has spent a huge portion of her life waiting for the world to end, and being prepared to survive this event. Part of surviving the end of world is making sure that she doesn't have too many people really close to her, so that if they die she won't be too lost. Inside of this, she explains that this is why it's never worth getting to close to people. Also, being on this bicycle trip is fun and exciting, but she is worried about spending too much time being frivolous; after all if the world is going to end, there are more useful things to be doing than riding on a bike.
"Well that's fine" I reply, "So what"?
Slowly, she replies that she doesn't know, and doesn't have an answer and is on the trip anyways. She just figured that I should know where she is coming from.
Alright, well, I can deal with that.
We eat supper at the station and after a while, Mitzy calls, saying that she is indeed in the area and is definitely willing to come pick Meagan and I up. And after another hour passes, she and her boyfriend Lewis arrive with her fathers truck and together we head out to Salmon Arm. It turns out that their cabin isn't actually in Salmon Arm, but just west of it in the village of Canoe. I send a quick message to Xavier that we will meet him in the morning before I go to the bike shop, and unpack ourselves onto some spare couches in the living room.
And so ends day 11.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Day 10 - Break time is over, now get back to work
I wake up as the sun rises over the crest of the hill behind Meghan and Gary's house. As usual Meagan is already up and has begun packing. Before we leave, there are few additional adjustments that Neil wants to make to our bikes, so he goes to work, which leaves Meagan and I to munch on a bit of breakfast care of our hosts. The kids are now up and about, and pass hither and yawn about the kitchen, yard and house, however their mom gets them packed, zips them to school and makes it back in only a few minutes. She is very capable with her children.
Now packed, fed and tuned up we say farewell, and hit the road. Meagan wants to leave a bit ahead of me just so she doesn't get left in the dust. I have been consistently quite a bit faster than her, and I guess she is tired of coming in later. Fine with me.
So I wander back to Chum's Restaurant and as I am jumping off the bike, I notice a small peculiar piece of plastic on the ground. As I bend to examine it, I think, hmm, I think this would fit on my MP3 player charger. Opening my saddlebag, sure enough the plastic fitting is missing from mine; I guess it fell off the day before I and I hadn't noticed it. Weird coincidence.
Water bottles filled I finally leave the town of Cache Creek heading east along the TransCanada Highway. The gradual hill out of town is a piece of cake, as is the series of rolling hills along the road. Behind me is a gentle tailwind as I pass lushly irrigated farmland surrounded by the rugged desert of the countryside. Sure enough though, it soon becomes apparent that the landscape is transitioning from arid and to something quite a bit more foliated.
The day off yesterday has refreshed my body and legs greatly and I power over the countryside, quickly overtaking Meagan, and finally surging up a hill in terrain which can only be described as desert. As oasis style gas station is just off the road and I think, hmmm, lunchtime.
Sometime passes, and Meagan eventually passes the station without stopping in. I wave her on, finish up and get back on the bike. Now I am directly under the noon sun, and even my freshly refilled water bottles are empty after only a few more minutes of climbing and riding. Below a shady tree I see Meagan, chat with her a while then continue under the yellow suns glare. Well, I am thirsty before long.
In this state I pass the town of Savona (not stopping of course) and begin a climb which I call the Savona Hill since I don't know its real name if it has one. The heat, incline and traffic make this distinctly challenging and before long my water is totally gone. Fortunately I encounter Cal Setter coming round a sharp turn on the road. He has his power tools on the back of his truck, and is remounting the small shrine he started years ago to mark the place his daughter was killed.
We talk and share our experiences for most of an hour, and he offers me some very appreciated water which are accepted graciously. Meagan passes me after some time, and doesn't stop. Before leaving, he hands me his card and asks for a post card from the end of my journey. Sure thing.
Continuing along I see Meagan pushing her bike up the steep climb. I make up some of the distance before she summits the hill and is gone. Summiting some 5 minutes later she is nowhere in sight, however there is a fantastic lookout point and a picnic table where I sit, eat and take a small nap.
Upon waking I see in the distance a grass fire burning the side of the valley some way ahead of me. After some photos of the event I jump on the bike and cruise down the far side of the Savona Hill. There is a long valley between me and the next climb which I fully expect to bring me into Kamloops. The valley itself is lined by farmland, and even as I descend the hill I see the firemen working to douse the upcoming blaze. By the time I pass them the fire is well and truly out.
It's about this time I get a call from Meagan saying that she is almost dead from weariness some way ahead of me. I tell her to take it easy and I will try and catch up to her. For myself, I am still quite drained from my own climb and the crossing of the valley so I can quite relate to what is going on with her.
Now the trees off the road are entirely dense and impenetrable with foliage, and I can see the clouds cruising in with an ominous dark tint. The rain starts as I come across a gas station where I hide under an awning, drink some chocolate milk and call my parents, friends and Meagan (who has turned her phone off). The owners of the station let me know that Meagan had passed by about 30 minutes earlier.
Moments before I go to leave, Gary (my host from last night) strolls in the gas station. He lets me know that he has spoken with Meagan, and that I am some 5 kilometers behind her. Wishing me luck, I leave and take on the final climb before entering the town of Kamloops. My legs are extremely tired and I break every couple hundred feet. On one of these breaks my friend Sandy calls me to return my call from a few minutes earlier which she had missed. We chat for a few minutes, she wishes me love and good luck and I grind my way to the summit.
Around one final bend is Kamloops, and a few quick calls to Meagan gets me to the Petro Canada diner after a short but pleasant ride into town. Meagan is sitting with three other women (apparently friends, and friends of friends) who have arrived from Merritt. Gloria is Meagan's oldest and best friends, and with her she has brought Holly and Shareen. We gab about the trip for a few minutes, then the conversation drifts off to the Landmark Forum, which Shareen is interested in taking.
Dinner wraps up a short while later, and Gloria and friends invite Meagan and I to a drum circle. Cool, I think and volunteer the two of us as compatriots for the evening. Before we head down to the event, Meagan and I scoot over the nearest hotel and unpack our things. Jumping in Shareen's car we zip downtown Kamloops only to discover that the smoke is pouring out of the drivers side front wheel well. Apparently the break has seized. We get out of the car, and Shareen goes off to park the vehicle.
It's at this point that Meagan expresses her displeasure with having to come by stomping around and huffing and puffing (no kidding, she actually was stomping and huffing and puffing!). We briefly talk, and she tells me that she really didn't want to come, but felt all sorts of pressure from me as well as Gloria.
In the few minutes I take to go find where Shareen has parked, Meagan jumps into a cab and disappears to places unknown. I find Shareen, however now everyone else has disappeared. Sometime passes while Shareen and I sit by her car, hoping for people to show up. Gloria shows up and says she is pissed off Meagan left after she had driven up from Merritt just to see her. Not only that, Holly has totally disappeared.
We agree to meet Gloria when she finds Holly at the drum circle, and Shareen and I wander off in that direction. At this point I should mention that I am really not concerned with Meagan leaving. I understand she is tired and didn't want to come in the first place, so I expect that since she is a big girl she has taken care of herself and left when I wasn't around so that she wouldn't feel pressured to stay. So Shareen and I arrive at the drum circle, and I am sorely disappointed. It turns out that there are two people with drums and about two dozen kids doings some variety of drugs, drinking and smoking. What's more, the drummers only play for a few minutes before being distracted into chatting with the comers and goers.
Gloria arrives some minutes later, and after a brief conversation is over her upset regarding how the evening is going. Holly is apparently uninterested in the drum circle thing entirely and is more concerned with getting home safely given that her ride is now unusable as reliable transportation. She has called her father and is waiting for him to come up from Merritt.
Gloria also introduces two people who are now with her, her uncle and aunt. Between the four of us, we conclude that we aren't terribly interested in hanging around. Shareen says she wants to stay so we say farewell, and head back to the aunt and uncles car. They agree to take me back to the hotel, and as we leave we see Holly, also leaving with her dad (I presume). Gloria says she is going to go with her instead and leaves me alone with the aunt and uncle.
We chat on the short ride back to the hotel, where I thank them for the ride, and head to my room. Meagan is fast asleep already and after a few minutes on my laptop I am done for the evening.
Now packed, fed and tuned up we say farewell, and hit the road. Meagan wants to leave a bit ahead of me just so she doesn't get left in the dust. I have been consistently quite a bit faster than her, and I guess she is tired of coming in later. Fine with me.
So I wander back to Chum's Restaurant and as I am jumping off the bike, I notice a small peculiar piece of plastic on the ground. As I bend to examine it, I think, hmm, I think this would fit on my MP3 player charger. Opening my saddlebag, sure enough the plastic fitting is missing from mine; I guess it fell off the day before I and I hadn't noticed it. Weird coincidence.
Water bottles filled I finally leave the town of Cache Creek heading east along the TransCanada Highway. The gradual hill out of town is a piece of cake, as is the series of rolling hills along the road. Behind me is a gentle tailwind as I pass lushly irrigated farmland surrounded by the rugged desert of the countryside. Sure enough though, it soon becomes apparent that the landscape is transitioning from arid and to something quite a bit more foliated.
The day off yesterday has refreshed my body and legs greatly and I power over the countryside, quickly overtaking Meagan, and finally surging up a hill in terrain which can only be described as desert. As oasis style gas station is just off the road and I think, hmmm, lunchtime.
Sometime passes, and Meagan eventually passes the station without stopping in. I wave her on, finish up and get back on the bike. Now I am directly under the noon sun, and even my freshly refilled water bottles are empty after only a few more minutes of climbing and riding. Below a shady tree I see Meagan, chat with her a while then continue under the yellow suns glare. Well, I am thirsty before long.
In this state I pass the town of Savona (not stopping of course) and begin a climb which I call the Savona Hill since I don't know its real name if it has one. The heat, incline and traffic make this distinctly challenging and before long my water is totally gone. Fortunately I encounter Cal Setter coming round a sharp turn on the road. He has his power tools on the back of his truck, and is remounting the small shrine he started years ago to mark the place his daughter was killed.
We talk and share our experiences for most of an hour, and he offers me some very appreciated water which are accepted graciously. Meagan passes me after some time, and doesn't stop. Before leaving, he hands me his card and asks for a post card from the end of my journey. Sure thing.
Continuing along I see Meagan pushing her bike up the steep climb. I make up some of the distance before she summits the hill and is gone. Summiting some 5 minutes later she is nowhere in sight, however there is a fantastic lookout point and a picnic table where I sit, eat and take a small nap.
Upon waking I see in the distance a grass fire burning the side of the valley some way ahead of me. After some photos of the event I jump on the bike and cruise down the far side of the Savona Hill. There is a long valley between me and the next climb which I fully expect to bring me into Kamloops. The valley itself is lined by farmland, and even as I descend the hill I see the firemen working to douse the upcoming blaze. By the time I pass them the fire is well and truly out.
It's about this time I get a call from Meagan saying that she is almost dead from weariness some way ahead of me. I tell her to take it easy and I will try and catch up to her. For myself, I am still quite drained from my own climb and the crossing of the valley so I can quite relate to what is going on with her.
Now the trees off the road are entirely dense and impenetrable with foliage, and I can see the clouds cruising in with an ominous dark tint. The rain starts as I come across a gas station where I hide under an awning, drink some chocolate milk and call my parents, friends and Meagan (who has turned her phone off). The owners of the station let me know that Meagan had passed by about 30 minutes earlier.
Moments before I go to leave, Gary (my host from last night) strolls in the gas station. He lets me know that he has spoken with Meagan, and that I am some 5 kilometers behind her. Wishing me luck, I leave and take on the final climb before entering the town of Kamloops. My legs are extremely tired and I break every couple hundred feet. On one of these breaks my friend Sandy calls me to return my call from a few minutes earlier which she had missed. We chat for a few minutes, she wishes me love and good luck and I grind my way to the summit.
Around one final bend is Kamloops, and a few quick calls to Meagan gets me to the Petro Canada diner after a short but pleasant ride into town. Meagan is sitting with three other women (apparently friends, and friends of friends) who have arrived from Merritt. Gloria is Meagan's oldest and best friends, and with her she has brought Holly and Shareen. We gab about the trip for a few minutes, then the conversation drifts off to the Landmark Forum, which Shareen is interested in taking.
Dinner wraps up a short while later, and Gloria and friends invite Meagan and I to a drum circle. Cool, I think and volunteer the two of us as compatriots for the evening. Before we head down to the event, Meagan and I scoot over the nearest hotel and unpack our things. Jumping in Shareen's car we zip downtown Kamloops only to discover that the smoke is pouring out of the drivers side front wheel well. Apparently the break has seized. We get out of the car, and Shareen goes off to park the vehicle.
It's at this point that Meagan expresses her displeasure with having to come by stomping around and huffing and puffing (no kidding, she actually was stomping and huffing and puffing!). We briefly talk, and she tells me that she really didn't want to come, but felt all sorts of pressure from me as well as Gloria.
In the few minutes I take to go find where Shareen has parked, Meagan jumps into a cab and disappears to places unknown. I find Shareen, however now everyone else has disappeared. Sometime passes while Shareen and I sit by her car, hoping for people to show up. Gloria shows up and says she is pissed off Meagan left after she had driven up from Merritt just to see her. Not only that, Holly has totally disappeared.
We agree to meet Gloria when she finds Holly at the drum circle, and Shareen and I wander off in that direction. At this point I should mention that I am really not concerned with Meagan leaving. I understand she is tired and didn't want to come in the first place, so I expect that since she is a big girl she has taken care of herself and left when I wasn't around so that she wouldn't feel pressured to stay. So Shareen and I arrive at the drum circle, and I am sorely disappointed. It turns out that there are two people with drums and about two dozen kids doings some variety of drugs, drinking and smoking. What's more, the drummers only play for a few minutes before being distracted into chatting with the comers and goers.
Gloria arrives some minutes later, and after a brief conversation is over her upset regarding how the evening is going. Holly is apparently uninterested in the drum circle thing entirely and is more concerned with getting home safely given that her ride is now unusable as reliable transportation. She has called her father and is waiting for him to come up from Merritt.
Gloria also introduces two people who are now with her, her uncle and aunt. Between the four of us, we conclude that we aren't terribly interested in hanging around. Shareen says she wants to stay so we say farewell, and head back to the aunt and uncles car. They agree to take me back to the hotel, and as we leave we see Holly, also leaving with her dad (I presume). Gloria says she is going to go with her instead and leaves me alone with the aunt and uncle.
We chat on the short ride back to the hotel, where I thank them for the ride, and head to my room. Meagan is fast asleep already and after a few minutes on my laptop I am done for the evening.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Day 9 - Start, Stop and Other Adventures
Knock knock knock.
Someone is at the door. My goodness, what time is it? Meagan staggers to the door, and Audry is looking in with a face expressing some degree of surprise. "Oh my, most cyclists are up and gone by this point". Meagan rejoins, "Well, we aren't most cyclists".
Blackness.
Sometime later I emerge from slumber and take Meagan's abandoned sleeping bag which is lying innocently on the hide-a-bed mattress she placed on the floor for the night. My own resting place on the couch was blanketless and hardly comfortable during the night and I fully intend to make the best of the next few minutes before the demands of the day set in.
It turns out that the teahouse also makes breakfast and we make our way over to enjoy french-toast, bacon and a couple eggs, then the packing starts, completes and after a brief tour of the Manor, we are on the road again. Almost immediately we encounter problems, this time with Meagan's bike. A significant wobble has materialized whenever she picks up some speed; well lucky thing we are only a few kilometers outside of the town of Cache Creek where we will be able to get most things repaired since I happen to know of a very convenient bike shop in town.
Unfortunately, Neil, the repairman is out of town at some sort of geocaching meeting, however, his sister-in-law Meghan (Sorry! I forget how you spell it!) is about, and lets us know that he will be back at 5:00 PM. Hmmm, I guess we'll be taking the day off. However before we go, we secure a place for ourselves behind their house and then we're off to explore Cache Creek.
Well, first thing on my list is to do a wee bit of laundry. Luckily, we pass the laundromat within mere moments of saying farewell to Meghan. My pocket is full of loonies, and twonies, however I notice that the machines mostly take quarters. Looking around for a change machine I notice a sign which directs me to go next door.
Next door is Bill Stadnyk, quickly he changes my big coins to smaller ones, and as a turn to leave I encounter the balance of his house. Floor to ceiling and wall to wall his house is lined with shelves, bearing of all things, accordions. Laundry can wait, and at once I ask what this is all about. It turns out, Bill is an accordion repair man, the only one in BC outside of Victoria. I call Meagan in to see, and turn to see Bill running to get one of his most favorite instruments.
The following hour is filled with Bill sharing his life and soul with us. From one instrument to the next he plays his music, shares his experiences, pleasures and passion with us. A tour of his shop, an explanation of the workings of the instrument and tune upon tune comes out of the man. The passion of the man brings tears to my eyes. Like no kidding.
Amazing.
Finally we say goodbye, and make our way to Chum's Restaurant. I get some work done, check my email, write some letters and occasionally run back and forth to the laundromat. This goes on for a couple hours until Neil the bike guy strolls up behind me and says, "I hear you need some work done". Well cool. I direct Neil back to his shop where Meagan is now waiting for him, and then pack up and get ready to leave myself. As I leave I see a man in t-shirt and shorts walking down the in front of the restaurant. I call out, "Looks like you are on an adventure". He turns around and says, "Yeah, I'm biking across Canada".
Boy, I must have a sixth or seventh sense pointing me at these people.
Anyways, his name is Terry and is planning on making his way most of the way across the country this summer with a follow up trip next year. At 68 years old he has already biked most of the way around the world and this tour of his home country is the final step in that achievement.
Parting ways with Terry, I head down to the bike shop where a young boy (his name is Quest) runs out of the yard and says, "Yay, Ted is here". Turns out my arrival has been anticipated. Meagan's wobble is now fixed and Neil is working on assorted tune-ups. The Meghan and Gary's (Neils brother) children are playing in the yard and come over to keep me company. The three boys are great little kids who ask all the really important questions like, "did you bring me any toys"?
Neil completes work on Meagan's bike, and turns his attention to mine. After a few minutes he has things tightened and adjusted in a variety of ways to improve my lot on the road. We go around back of the house to set up our tents for the evening and withdraw indoors to chat. The evening finally concludes with Meagan and I sharing our daring adventures and exciting experiences with Gary, Meghan and Neil. The kids are now in bed and finally we ourselves climb into our respective tents on the beautiful lawn to sleep.
And so concludes day 9.
Someone is at the door. My goodness, what time is it? Meagan staggers to the door, and Audry is looking in with a face expressing some degree of surprise. "Oh my, most cyclists are up and gone by this point". Meagan rejoins, "Well, we aren't most cyclists".
Blackness.
Sometime later I emerge from slumber and take Meagan's abandoned sleeping bag which is lying innocently on the hide-a-bed mattress she placed on the floor for the night. My own resting place on the couch was blanketless and hardly comfortable during the night and I fully intend to make the best of the next few minutes before the demands of the day set in.
It turns out that the teahouse also makes breakfast and we make our way over to enjoy french-toast, bacon and a couple eggs, then the packing starts, completes and after a brief tour of the Manor, we are on the road again. Almost immediately we encounter problems, this time with Meagan's bike. A significant wobble has materialized whenever she picks up some speed; well lucky thing we are only a few kilometers outside of the town of Cache Creek where we will be able to get most things repaired since I happen to know of a very convenient bike shop in town.
Unfortunately, Neil, the repairman is out of town at some sort of geocaching meeting, however, his sister-in-law Meghan (Sorry! I forget how you spell it!) is about, and lets us know that he will be back at 5:00 PM. Hmmm, I guess we'll be taking the day off. However before we go, we secure a place for ourselves behind their house and then we're off to explore Cache Creek.
Well, first thing on my list is to do a wee bit of laundry. Luckily, we pass the laundromat within mere moments of saying farewell to Meghan. My pocket is full of loonies, and twonies, however I notice that the machines mostly take quarters. Looking around for a change machine I notice a sign which directs me to go next door.
Next door is Bill Stadnyk, quickly he changes my big coins to smaller ones, and as a turn to leave I encounter the balance of his house. Floor to ceiling and wall to wall his house is lined with shelves, bearing of all things, accordions. Laundry can wait, and at once I ask what this is all about. It turns out, Bill is an accordion repair man, the only one in BC outside of Victoria. I call Meagan in to see, and turn to see Bill running to get one of his most favorite instruments.
The following hour is filled with Bill sharing his life and soul with us. From one instrument to the next he plays his music, shares his experiences, pleasures and passion with us. A tour of his shop, an explanation of the workings of the instrument and tune upon tune comes out of the man. The passion of the man brings tears to my eyes. Like no kidding.
Amazing.
Finally we say goodbye, and make our way to Chum's Restaurant. I get some work done, check my email, write some letters and occasionally run back and forth to the laundromat. This goes on for a couple hours until Neil the bike guy strolls up behind me and says, "I hear you need some work done". Well cool. I direct Neil back to his shop where Meagan is now waiting for him, and then pack up and get ready to leave myself. As I leave I see a man in t-shirt and shorts walking down the in front of the restaurant. I call out, "Looks like you are on an adventure". He turns around and says, "Yeah, I'm biking across Canada".
Boy, I must have a sixth or seventh sense pointing me at these people.
Anyways, his name is Terry and is planning on making his way most of the way across the country this summer with a follow up trip next year. At 68 years old he has already biked most of the way around the world and this tour of his home country is the final step in that achievement.
Parting ways with Terry, I head down to the bike shop where a young boy (his name is Quest) runs out of the yard and says, "Yay, Ted is here". Turns out my arrival has been anticipated. Meagan's wobble is now fixed and Neil is working on assorted tune-ups. The Meghan and Gary's (Neils brother) children are playing in the yard and come over to keep me company. The three boys are great little kids who ask all the really important questions like, "did you bring me any toys"?
Neil completes work on Meagan's bike, and turns his attention to mine. After a few minutes he has things tightened and adjusted in a variety of ways to improve my lot on the road. We go around back of the house to set up our tents for the evening and withdraw indoors to chat. The evening finally concludes with Meagan and I sharing our daring adventures and exciting experiences with Gary, Meghan and Neil. The kids are now in bed and finally we ourselves climb into our respective tents on the beautiful lawn to sleep.
And so concludes day 9.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Day 8 - Coincidence
One of the really great things about being in a desert is the low likelihood of being rained on. On nights such as these I like to leave the fly of my tent off so I can enjoy the breeze as well as watch the stars through the fine netting. The pleasure of watching ants and little creatures vainly attempt to climb inside and eat me is only surpassed by the joy of knowing that sleep can proceed with utter disregard for all the little crawlies that wiggle about.
The road down from Hilltop Campground is comprised of a series of small and moderate hills until we reach the base of the climb known as Oregon-Jack. The climb here pulls the two of us out of the valley; however like many things in my life, there is a bit of drama associated with this too. I arrive at the beginning of the hill to discover that traffic is being blocked by a construction crew which is preparing to do some blasting on the cliff aside of the road along the ascent.
The folks waiting for the crew to signal the all clear are questioning me about my trip and a couple mention that they have seen both myself and Meagan a number of times as they journey up and down the highway on their day to day errands. The crew signals that I should proceed by myself and make a head start; however I am only part way up the hill when I see Meagan's bike on the back of a truck cruising past me on the way up the hill. Apparently she was offered a ride, and couldn't resist the temptation.
Meagan is dropped off about halfway up the climb, and quickly guns her way to the top. Slowly but steadily I gain on her and by the time she reaches the summit, I am only a minute or so behind her.
From here there are a couple of minor dips and rises, however we are now out of the formal part of the valley and about 35 KM from the town of Ashcroft. The terrain here is now showing a number of trees, however the majority of them appear to be dead as they are entirely brown. Apparently the ravages of the pine beetle has been a major force in this area. The grass and shrubbery along side of the highway is still utterly dry, and there is absolutely no shade to be seen, and what is more the sun is roasting the countryside alive.
A crack of thunder in this situation grabs my attention almost immediately. I turn around, and behind me is a dark and powerful looking thunderhead powering down upon us from behind. The smell of ozone fills the air, and wouldn't you know it, my back wheel is flat. A call to Meagan ahead of me doesn't reach her and the last I see of her is the flag on her bike waving so long around the nearest bend.
Well, there is nothing for it except to dismount and fix the flat. At this point in my life I have fixed 37 flat tires, and now am working on the 38th. In moments, the sun vanishes behind a deep and dark cloud, the wind buffets me from all directions and I almost rip the wheel off the bike in my urgency. Patch kit out, glue applied, patch applied, pressure, remount the tube, the tire, the wheel, and someone says "Well, hello there". Meagan is standing next to me. Where did she come from? Well, apparently the moment she went around the corner, she too had encountered a flat tire and was waiting for me to come rescue her.
Given this, the urgency, wind and clouds disappear almost at the same time. Leisurely we stroll around the corner, remove her wheel, replace the tube, and are back on the road after an entirely respectable amount of time.
The road from the corner of flat tires to Ashton once again becomes witheringly hot, and the moderate amount of farmland in the area is the only indication that we are once again reaching irrigated climbs. A short while later we encounter the Ashton Manor which is a perfect rest stop for traveling cyclists. The teahouse is air conditioned and Kim and Audry (I hope I have your names right) rent us a cabin for the night at an entirely respectable rate.
The rest of evening is spent relaxing, chatting and playing computer games (entirely frivolous, and entirely enjoyable).
The road down from Hilltop Campground is comprised of a series of small and moderate hills until we reach the base of the climb known as Oregon-Jack. The climb here pulls the two of us out of the valley; however like many things in my life, there is a bit of drama associated with this too. I arrive at the beginning of the hill to discover that traffic is being blocked by a construction crew which is preparing to do some blasting on the cliff aside of the road along the ascent.
The folks waiting for the crew to signal the all clear are questioning me about my trip and a couple mention that they have seen both myself and Meagan a number of times as they journey up and down the highway on their day to day errands. The crew signals that I should proceed by myself and make a head start; however I am only part way up the hill when I see Meagan's bike on the back of a truck cruising past me on the way up the hill. Apparently she was offered a ride, and couldn't resist the temptation.
Meagan is dropped off about halfway up the climb, and quickly guns her way to the top. Slowly but steadily I gain on her and by the time she reaches the summit, I am only a minute or so behind her.
From here there are a couple of minor dips and rises, however we are now out of the formal part of the valley and about 35 KM from the town of Ashcroft. The terrain here is now showing a number of trees, however the majority of them appear to be dead as they are entirely brown. Apparently the ravages of the pine beetle has been a major force in this area. The grass and shrubbery along side of the highway is still utterly dry, and there is absolutely no shade to be seen, and what is more the sun is roasting the countryside alive.
A crack of thunder in this situation grabs my attention almost immediately. I turn around, and behind me is a dark and powerful looking thunderhead powering down upon us from behind. The smell of ozone fills the air, and wouldn't you know it, my back wheel is flat. A call to Meagan ahead of me doesn't reach her and the last I see of her is the flag on her bike waving so long around the nearest bend.
Well, there is nothing for it except to dismount and fix the flat. At this point in my life I have fixed 37 flat tires, and now am working on the 38th. In moments, the sun vanishes behind a deep and dark cloud, the wind buffets me from all directions and I almost rip the wheel off the bike in my urgency. Patch kit out, glue applied, patch applied, pressure, remount the tube, the tire, the wheel, and someone says "Well, hello there". Meagan is standing next to me. Where did she come from? Well, apparently the moment she went around the corner, she too had encountered a flat tire and was waiting for me to come rescue her.
Given this, the urgency, wind and clouds disappear almost at the same time. Leisurely we stroll around the corner, remove her wheel, replace the tube, and are back on the road after an entirely respectable amount of time.
The road from the corner of flat tires to Ashton once again becomes witheringly hot, and the moderate amount of farmland in the area is the only indication that we are once again reaching irrigated climbs. A short while later we encounter the Ashton Manor which is a perfect rest stop for traveling cyclists. The teahouse is air conditioned and Kim and Audry (I hope I have your names right) rent us a cabin for the night at an entirely respectable rate.
The rest of evening is spent relaxing, chatting and playing computer games (entirely frivolous, and entirely enjoyable).
Monday, June 8, 2009
Day 7 - Yummy
This morning starts out gradually. The countryside, and specifically the campground has given way to the desert and the layer of needles on the ground is almost completely dry. Last night as the fire smoldered and I sat and typed, the thought occurred that perhaps this would be a fire hazard, however I was attentive and no problems have arisen between then and now.
Climbing out of my tent and carefully picking my way over the dry needles on the way to find a fresh pair of socks I conclude that a restaurant made breakfast will be much more appealing than the drivel (or whatever) that I would otherwise be able to create given my currently meager set of supplies.
The balance of the packing concludes quickly enough, however I am dismayed to discover that the battery in my camera has drained. Well, off to the restaurant and we will find batteries later. At this point I should admit that although I have just gotten up, and am more or less ready to start the day, it is currently just past 11:00 AM in the morning. At this rate the day will only start at the crack of noon as my roommate Mario says.
Given the time, breakfast becomes lunch and my first meal of the day is a cheeseburger with fries. Yummy. (I see you there shaking your head with disapproval). It is during this meal that I meet Jaycee, who has just arrived herself with breakfast intentions in the same genre as mine. One interesting thing about Jaycee is that she has only got one leg; the other apparently was lost in a bike accident some years ago.
She lights up over the conversation in which topics range wildly, from the possibility of her doing her own cross country tour with a hand powered bicycle to hummingbirds and beyond. After we leave the restaurant, purchase batteries at the next door market and prepare to hit the road Jaycee comes out and sends us off with her best wishes. My last sight of her is her squinting at the back of her camera as she documents the event.
Now at this point things are clearly starting to shift physically for me. My legs seem to be able to easily power me up the first hill of the morning, and as I crest it, the view of the Thompson river blows me away. This river is powerful, as anyone can attest to who has viewed the rapids just east of Lytton. Enormous volumes of water pass here every moment of every day, and of course make there way south to the confluence with the Fraser River where things become truly astounding (Hell's Gate is a good place to observe this result).
Meagan and I slowly become separated over the course of the day as the heat and wears on us both. A number of moderate climbs and one long gradual ascent leads eventually to Spences Bridge.
Here we take advantage of not one but two delightful little restaurants, jump onto the internet for the first time in a while and then finally make our way up a hill and around the corner to the Hilltop Campground just north of Spences Bridge. The campground is at the lower bound of number a orchard, has a babbling brook, excellent showers, powered sites (although no Internet access :) ).
The balance of the evening is spent chatting with the fellow campsite goers, the repairman and Annette, a summer long resident of the campground and relative of the owners.
Climbing out of my tent and carefully picking my way over the dry needles on the way to find a fresh pair of socks I conclude that a restaurant made breakfast will be much more appealing than the drivel (or whatever) that I would otherwise be able to create given my currently meager set of supplies.
The balance of the packing concludes quickly enough, however I am dismayed to discover that the battery in my camera has drained. Well, off to the restaurant and we will find batteries later. At this point I should admit that although I have just gotten up, and am more or less ready to start the day, it is currently just past 11:00 AM in the morning. At this rate the day will only start at the crack of noon as my roommate Mario says.
Given the time, breakfast becomes lunch and my first meal of the day is a cheeseburger with fries. Yummy. (I see you there shaking your head with disapproval). It is during this meal that I meet Jaycee, who has just arrived herself with breakfast intentions in the same genre as mine. One interesting thing about Jaycee is that she has only got one leg; the other apparently was lost in a bike accident some years ago.
She lights up over the conversation in which topics range wildly, from the possibility of her doing her own cross country tour with a hand powered bicycle to hummingbirds and beyond. After we leave the restaurant, purchase batteries at the next door market and prepare to hit the road Jaycee comes out and sends us off with her best wishes. My last sight of her is her squinting at the back of her camera as she documents the event.
Now at this point things are clearly starting to shift physically for me. My legs seem to be able to easily power me up the first hill of the morning, and as I crest it, the view of the Thompson river blows me away. This river is powerful, as anyone can attest to who has viewed the rapids just east of Lytton. Enormous volumes of water pass here every moment of every day, and of course make there way south to the confluence with the Fraser River where things become truly astounding (Hell's Gate is a good place to observe this result).
Meagan and I slowly become separated over the course of the day as the heat and wears on us both. A number of moderate climbs and one long gradual ascent leads eventually to Spences Bridge.
Here we take advantage of not one but two delightful little restaurants, jump onto the internet for the first time in a while and then finally make our way up a hill and around the corner to the Hilltop Campground just north of Spences Bridge. The campground is at the lower bound of number a orchard, has a babbling brook, excellent showers, powered sites (although no Internet access :) ).
The balance of the evening is spent chatting with the fellow campsite goers, the repairman and Annette, a summer long resident of the campground and relative of the owners.
Day 6 - Miracle on Highway 1
Today started out fairly easily as far as these things go. I pack my gear and Meagan's tent as she makes breakfast, and then wash up in Betty's kitchen. After and hour or so of chatting we push out for the highway, where it occurs to me that I want to check my email and such before I hit the road.
Meagan is ok with this, but tells me that she is going to leave right away.
Well, ok. I'll meet up with her in Lytton.
So up to this point we have been told that there is a fairly significant mountain coming up between Boston Bar and Lytton know as Jackass Mountain.
Well, I do my computer stuff and get on the bike about a full hour after Meagan has left. The first two hours of riding seems to go by fairly smoothly and although there are a few hills along the route, I am not over challenged by them until I notice that my bike is suddenly riding kind of weird.
As I look down at the rear tire there is a loud bang, and the valve stem blows off. Hmm, I don't have a spare tube with me at this point.
Well, as I stop the bike and dismount I notice a car pulling up behind me. And who is leaning out the window is Donald from yesterday.
Donald comes up to me wanting to apologize for not being able to host us yesterday when I interrupt him and mention that I am now in need of some help regarding my rear wheel.
So Al (Donald's brother), who is driving the car says that he will zip me up ahead to Meagan to pick up the patch kit in case it will help, and Donald will guard the bike. So off we go, surprise Meagan, grab the patch kit and head back to the bike.
Al thinks he may have a spare tube in his assortment of parts, and he and Donald leave me with my bike on the side of the road to go off and look. Well, sure enough nothing can be done with the tube, and I eventually just take a nap on the side of the road hoping that the guys will be eventually make there way back.
Although it takes most of an hour, they finally reappear, unfortunately with empty hands. Hmm.
Well, I seem to remember that as I entered a tunnel the day before I saw a message regarding a bike shop in Cache Creek (110 km away). Well, Al, will you drive me to Cache Creek and back?
Sure.
So Al, Donald and I drive up the road and let Meagan know what's going on, then Al and Donald drop me off at an Esso (own by a Korean/Canadian named Woo) while they search for someone for Donald to hang around with. Well, no such luck however, Donald isn't terribly interested in making the long trip and jumps out of the car with the intention of making it back to Boston Bar somehow.
From here, Al and I cruise off down the highway, where he introduces me to the world of spirituality according to Al, and along the way he shows me various landmarks and notable items along the way.
Pulling into Cache Creek, we find a series of wooden signs pointing down back roads and side streets to the location of the bike shop. Neil is the owner of Cache Creek Cycle Parts, and sells me his last 27" tube, a new kickstand and a new bike seat.
The ride back is very pleasant however, I am now noticing all the significant climbs that we will be encountering in the coming days... Oh well.
Finally arriving back in Lytton we look in the first campground we encounter and sure enough, there is Meagan setting up the site. Al drops me off, and with many thanks is on his own way again. Meagan turns to me and says, I knew I shouldn't have doubted you'd make it back.
And that is today's miracle on highway 1; goodnight.
Meagan is ok with this, but tells me that she is going to leave right away.
Well, ok. I'll meet up with her in Lytton.
So up to this point we have been told that there is a fairly significant mountain coming up between Boston Bar and Lytton know as Jackass Mountain.
Well, I do my computer stuff and get on the bike about a full hour after Meagan has left. The first two hours of riding seems to go by fairly smoothly and although there are a few hills along the route, I am not over challenged by them until I notice that my bike is suddenly riding kind of weird.
As I look down at the rear tire there is a loud bang, and the valve stem blows off. Hmm, I don't have a spare tube with me at this point.
Well, as I stop the bike and dismount I notice a car pulling up behind me. And who is leaning out the window is Donald from yesterday.
Donald comes up to me wanting to apologize for not being able to host us yesterday when I interrupt him and mention that I am now in need of some help regarding my rear wheel.
So Al (Donald's brother), who is driving the car says that he will zip me up ahead to Meagan to pick up the patch kit in case it will help, and Donald will guard the bike. So off we go, surprise Meagan, grab the patch kit and head back to the bike.
Al thinks he may have a spare tube in his assortment of parts, and he and Donald leave me with my bike on the side of the road to go off and look. Well, sure enough nothing can be done with the tube, and I eventually just take a nap on the side of the road hoping that the guys will be eventually make there way back.
Although it takes most of an hour, they finally reappear, unfortunately with empty hands. Hmm.
Well, I seem to remember that as I entered a tunnel the day before I saw a message regarding a bike shop in Cache Creek (110 km away). Well, Al, will you drive me to Cache Creek and back?
Sure.
So Al, Donald and I drive up the road and let Meagan know what's going on, then Al and Donald drop me off at an Esso (own by a Korean/Canadian named Woo) while they search for someone for Donald to hang around with. Well, no such luck however, Donald isn't terribly interested in making the long trip and jumps out of the car with the intention of making it back to Boston Bar somehow.
From here, Al and I cruise off down the highway, where he introduces me to the world of spirituality according to Al, and along the way he shows me various landmarks and notable items along the way.
Pulling into Cache Creek, we find a series of wooden signs pointing down back roads and side streets to the location of the bike shop. Neil is the owner of Cache Creek Cycle Parts, and sells me his last 27" tube, a new kickstand and a new bike seat.
The ride back is very pleasant however, I am now noticing all the significant climbs that we will be encountering in the coming days... Oh well.
Finally arriving back in Lytton we look in the first campground we encounter and sure enough, there is Meagan setting up the site. Al drops me off, and with many thanks is on his own way again. Meagan turns to me and says, I knew I shouldn't have doubted you'd make it back.
And that is today's miracle on highway 1; goodnight.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Day 5 - Two cyclists go into a bar
Day 5 unlike all the previous days in the trip does not start in a Motel; rather I find myself stiff, sore, and crabby. Mostly I am crabby because I am stiff and sore and not getting any attention about it. Well, so be it.
Meagan is making breakfast as I stagger blearily out of my tent. As I make my way over to the picnic table she tells me it's going to be rice pudding. mmmm, I like rice pudding. However, this is rice pudding on remarkably few supplies, so really it's just rice with blueberry yogurt poured over top. Well, who am I to complain, so I stuff my face and pack up.
My plan, with which Meagan whole heartily agrees is to take today easy. We are about 30 KM from Boston Bar and I don't intend to go any further than that. Meagan strikes out about 30 minutes ahead of me, and by the time I am on the road she is long gone.
Well, after I pass through a couple tunnels, I see in the distance that the highway is navigating its way up the hill on its way to some faraway distant tunnel at a considerably higher altitude than the one I am currently on. In the distance I can see Meagan pushing her bike with my trusty set of binoculars, and I resolve to try and catch her.
Well, this plan lasts until I am about three quarters the way up the hill (about 40 minutes from the start) when I turn around and notice that the flag which normally adorns the back of my trailer is missing. Gasp! Oh No, I must have dropped it! I cannot lose that flag, I have carried it with me for the thousands of kilometers and recovered from many almost assured losses.
Now the question is, should I descend the hill or just say so long.
I go after the flag.
Naturally, I don't encounter the flag anywhere on the way down the hill. In fact, it is only as I make my way to entrance of the last tunnel before the climb that I find it lying innocently on the side of the highway.
Oh well. The climb takes me a full hour and half at this point, and I stagger into the Elvis Rocks the Mountain (valley maybe?) cafe at the summit and call out for water.
The rest of the trip into Boston Bar is painful. My legs, which have been sore up to this point are now constantly throbbing, and as I pull into a cafe my only thought (other than where Meagan is) is to dull the pain.
Anyways lunch is bought for me by my next door table mate, and I eventually see Meagan trundling down the road.
Meeting a number of the town locals while looking for a backyard in which to to camp, we meet a remarkable character by the name of Donald. He is so talkative it is almost impossible to get a word in, unfortunately he cannot host us, however, we find lodging behind Betty's house.
The rest of the evening is spent chatting with a local tradesman by the name of Rick who teaches us about his beard and what life is like for him these days.
Meagan is making breakfast as I stagger blearily out of my tent. As I make my way over to the picnic table she tells me it's going to be rice pudding. mmmm, I like rice pudding. However, this is rice pudding on remarkably few supplies, so really it's just rice with blueberry yogurt poured over top. Well, who am I to complain, so I stuff my face and pack up.
My plan, with which Meagan whole heartily agrees is to take today easy. We are about 30 KM from Boston Bar and I don't intend to go any further than that. Meagan strikes out about 30 minutes ahead of me, and by the time I am on the road she is long gone.
Well, after I pass through a couple tunnels, I see in the distance that the highway is navigating its way up the hill on its way to some faraway distant tunnel at a considerably higher altitude than the one I am currently on. In the distance I can see Meagan pushing her bike with my trusty set of binoculars, and I resolve to try and catch her.
Well, this plan lasts until I am about three quarters the way up the hill (about 40 minutes from the start) when I turn around and notice that the flag which normally adorns the back of my trailer is missing. Gasp! Oh No, I must have dropped it! I cannot lose that flag, I have carried it with me for the thousands of kilometers and recovered from many almost assured losses.
Now the question is, should I descend the hill or just say so long.
I go after the flag.
Naturally, I don't encounter the flag anywhere on the way down the hill. In fact, it is only as I make my way to entrance of the last tunnel before the climb that I find it lying innocently on the side of the highway.
Oh well. The climb takes me a full hour and half at this point, and I stagger into the Elvis Rocks the Mountain (valley maybe?) cafe at the summit and call out for water.
The rest of the trip into Boston Bar is painful. My legs, which have been sore up to this point are now constantly throbbing, and as I pull into a cafe my only thought (other than where Meagan is) is to dull the pain.
Anyways lunch is bought for me by my next door table mate, and I eventually see Meagan trundling down the road.
Meeting a number of the town locals while looking for a backyard in which to to camp, we meet a remarkable character by the name of Donald. He is so talkative it is almost impossible to get a word in, unfortunately he cannot host us, however, we find lodging behind Betty's house.
The rest of the evening is spent chatting with a local tradesman by the name of Rick who teaches us about his beard and what life is like for him these days.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Day 4 - The Breakout
In the great big grand scheme of things today did not jump out for me as being terribly important, however, thinking back on it right now there were definitely some tidbits of goodness.
Day 4 starts out with Xavier, Meagan and myself dragging ourselves out of bed after a beautiful sleep at the Holiday Motel of Hope, BC. In spite of our intention to be out and on the road by 10 (ish), the clock is well past noon by the time that anyone actually manages to get out the door with some intention of leaving.
The first person gone is Xavier, who has said that he would love to continue the bike tour with us again once we reach Revelstoke. Since he will be taking the southern route for the next couple of days and we are going north through the Fraser Canyon, this seems like a good enough place to meet up.
About 45 minutes after his departure, Meagan notices that there is a pair of cycling shorts on the motel driveway. Uhoh, this is Xavier's and I bet he is going to want these. A few quick text messages and he is turned around and heading back to meet us.
The shorts handed over, Meagan and I finally get on the road sometime around one PM. However before we get going Meagan comes to the conclusion that she is going to take advantage of this trip to make something special happen in her life; she calls her mom and tells her that she wants to find her father, and take the opportunity to bike to meet him. Some names and details written down on a napkin, and we hit the road.
At this point it is worth mentioning how much pain my legs are in. The ride yesterday has left my legs in a constant state of feeling tight, tense and soar. And as we start cycling I can almost immediately feel that acid burn all along my thighs. Blargh, can I really manage a day of this?
Well, about thirty minutes in we encounter the first significant climb of the the trip. From my past experience, I know that the little lump in front of us is just a minor inconvenience, however, given the state of my legs, and Meagan's inexperience in general (at this point) the climb is reasonably brutal.
Hmmm.
Well we make it up the hill, whereupon we encounter the natural counterpoint of the climb, which of course is the slick ride down the other side. My speedometer reads 66 kph, which is plenty fast.
The terrain in this part of BC is fairly dense coniferous forest, and in some spots we encounter areas where the shade covers some part of the road. We take one break here, and another about 20 minutes later at a very traditional looking roadside diner.
The locals inside direct us to watch out for the upcoming Jackass Mountain pass in a couple of days, and suggest a suitable place for us to stop near the Alexandra Bridge.
The town of Yale is the next stop where we conclude that we will head at least for the upcoming town of Spuzzum. Nothing like town actually seems to appear between the Yale and our eventual destination of the Alexandra Provincial Park, where I imagine that we camp illegally.
I guess that cycling with sore stiff legs is possible.
Day 4 starts out with Xavier, Meagan and myself dragging ourselves out of bed after a beautiful sleep at the Holiday Motel of Hope, BC. In spite of our intention to be out and on the road by 10 (ish), the clock is well past noon by the time that anyone actually manages to get out the door with some intention of leaving.
The first person gone is Xavier, who has said that he would love to continue the bike tour with us again once we reach Revelstoke. Since he will be taking the southern route for the next couple of days and we are going north through the Fraser Canyon, this seems like a good enough place to meet up.
About 45 minutes after his departure, Meagan notices that there is a pair of cycling shorts on the motel driveway. Uhoh, this is Xavier's and I bet he is going to want these. A few quick text messages and he is turned around and heading back to meet us.
The shorts handed over, Meagan and I finally get on the road sometime around one PM. However before we get going Meagan comes to the conclusion that she is going to take advantage of this trip to make something special happen in her life; she calls her mom and tells her that she wants to find her father, and take the opportunity to bike to meet him. Some names and details written down on a napkin, and we hit the road.
At this point it is worth mentioning how much pain my legs are in. The ride yesterday has left my legs in a constant state of feeling tight, tense and soar. And as we start cycling I can almost immediately feel that acid burn all along my thighs. Blargh, can I really manage a day of this?
Well, about thirty minutes in we encounter the first significant climb of the the trip. From my past experience, I know that the little lump in front of us is just a minor inconvenience, however, given the state of my legs, and Meagan's inexperience in general (at this point) the climb is reasonably brutal.
Hmmm.
Well we make it up the hill, whereupon we encounter the natural counterpoint of the climb, which of course is the slick ride down the other side. My speedometer reads 66 kph, which is plenty fast.
The terrain in this part of BC is fairly dense coniferous forest, and in some spots we encounter areas where the shade covers some part of the road. We take one break here, and another about 20 minutes later at a very traditional looking roadside diner.
The locals inside direct us to watch out for the upcoming Jackass Mountain pass in a couple of days, and suggest a suitable place for us to stop near the Alexandra Bridge.
The town of Yale is the next stop where we conclude that we will head at least for the upcoming town of Spuzzum. Nothing like town actually seems to appear between the Yale and our eventual destination of the Alexandra Provincial Park, where I imagine that we camp illegally.
I guess that cycling with sore stiff legs is possible.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Day 3 - Oh my poor legs
So the plan today was to get to Hope, BC. As I mentioned yesterday we were in Abbotsford, which meant that the day necessitated a 88 kilometer trip. Just rest assured I made it, however my legs feel like they have been processed in a grinder of some sort.
The day started out with complementary breakfast from Motel Rio, after which Meagan and I scooted over to our designated meeting place with Xavier. From there a powerful tailwind drove us straight to Chilliwack with only one minor break along the way. In Chilliwack, the three of us concluded that what was missing which would make a difference was a chinese buffet. Well, sure enough we got what we wished for.
Lunchtime dragged out for a while, and I needed to run some errands in town, so Meagan concludes to boost on ahead since she has a concern about falling behind Xavier and myself. Fair enough, however we don't see her again until the end of the day.
Xavier and I strike out for the highway after I finish my business in town, and it rapidly becomes clear to me how much more fit for the task of highway cycling Xavier is than myself. In total it takes just a bit more than three hours to get from Chilliwack to Hope and the entire time I am pushing my body as hard as I can just to keep up with him.
Along the way, we spot a very nice roadside waterfall with about a ten foot drop and from that moment, it takes me less than a minute to jump down off the road and stand underneath it. Really refreshing, my goodness.
The rest of the journey took a degree of physical drive that has been absent as of late in my life, and by the time we finally pull into Hope my bum is intolerably sore and legs are burning with every peddle.
Connecting with Meagan turns out to be an exercise in mis-communication. It takes the two of us a moment after the fourth phone call and second text message to get off of our high horses and actually figure out why we couldn't see each other.
The three of us are currently staying at a very nice place by the name of Holiday Motel on the south western end of Hope, we have a great room with three queen size beds and and just finally fixed the hotels wireless Internet connection in regards to my particular laptop so that I can write this very article.
Tomorrow Xavier will be leaving us for a week or so to navigate highway 3 and Manning Park, and eventually meet with us again in Revelstoke so we can attempt Rogers Pass together.
Wish us luck
Much Love
Ted
The day started out with complementary breakfast from Motel Rio, after which Meagan and I scooted over to our designated meeting place with Xavier. From there a powerful tailwind drove us straight to Chilliwack with only one minor break along the way. In Chilliwack, the three of us concluded that what was missing which would make a difference was a chinese buffet. Well, sure enough we got what we wished for.
Lunchtime dragged out for a while, and I needed to run some errands in town, so Meagan concludes to boost on ahead since she has a concern about falling behind Xavier and myself. Fair enough, however we don't see her again until the end of the day.
Xavier and I strike out for the highway after I finish my business in town, and it rapidly becomes clear to me how much more fit for the task of highway cycling Xavier is than myself. In total it takes just a bit more than three hours to get from Chilliwack to Hope and the entire time I am pushing my body as hard as I can just to keep up with him.
Along the way, we spot a very nice roadside waterfall with about a ten foot drop and from that moment, it takes me less than a minute to jump down off the road and stand underneath it. Really refreshing, my goodness.
The rest of the journey took a degree of physical drive that has been absent as of late in my life, and by the time we finally pull into Hope my bum is intolerably sore and legs are burning with every peddle.
Connecting with Meagan turns out to be an exercise in mis-communication. It takes the two of us a moment after the fourth phone call and second text message to get off of our high horses and actually figure out why we couldn't see each other.
The three of us are currently staying at a very nice place by the name of Holiday Motel on the south western end of Hope, we have a great room with three queen size beds and and just finally fixed the hotels wireless Internet connection in regards to my particular laptop so that I can write this very article.
Tomorrow Xavier will be leaving us for a week or so to navigate highway 3 and Manning Park, and eventually meet with us again in Revelstoke so we can attempt Rogers Pass together.
Wish us luck
Much Love
Ted
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Day 2 - Zug Zug
Ok, tonight I am lying again on my bed in yet another hotel, this time in Abbotsford. My legs are distinctly sore, and my bum... is telling me that it is very angry with the way I have been treating it.... Anyways, I am quite happy with how my day went. I certainly enhanced my ability to inconvenience strangers (that's a good thing, stuff drags out when we play nice). I'll explain shortly.
So I start my day at the bright and early time of 10:00 AM. My cycling buddy Meagan, has been up and about for ages and I conclude to stop ignoring her presence like I have been for the last three hours. I'm not terribly concerned with getting moving, so the morning kinda drags out a bit, however we finally hit the road sometime around noon. Anywho, a quick jaunt to the Seabus gets us to Vancouver proper where I make a slight side trip to the Landmark Education Centre to say so long, and arrange for a course I am now taking in December.
That done, Meagan and I make our way to the SkyTrain where we are planning to get out of the central morass that is greater Vancouver. Now I say that casually but you really need to understand that the size and volume of our bikes is tremendous in comparison to most of the other stuff (like people for instance) that normally uses it. Right from the start I say things like out of the way, move, and you better watch out and fairly easily get on board. Meagan hasn't gotten that yet and for her it's a great kerfuffle as the bike gets wedged in the corner and people are crowding her and the trailer is still sticking out onto the platform. I'll leave that part with a note saying that she survived the ordeal.
There we are, at the end of the line and it's just a quick jump over to Fraser highway where we almost immediately run into another cyclist loaded up with respectable amount of gear. It turns out, that his name is Xavier and he is on his way home to Gatineau, QB. I share with him my experiences to date (including a number from my earlier trip) and it takes us a few minutes to discover that Meagan has fallen behind us and has disappeared out of site. And so begins with the first of many breaks waiting for her to catch up.
For myself, I am totally ok with going at whatever rate is comfortable and works for everyone involved. However, it clearly isn't ok with Meagan who after the third or fourth catchup session says "Xavier, you're a perfect cycling partner for Ted, why don't you go together and I will eventually make it to Calgary". Resigned to being abandoned... "oh great" I think to myself, "is she going to be like this the whole damn way across the country"?
At the next break after Meagan catches up, I let Xavier know that we'll meet up with him the following day, at which point Meagan calls here aunt and uncle (we're in Langly) and arranges for them to meet us.
It's at this point that I notice that one of the shift cables on the bike is just about completely frayed away and is imminently about to break. Hmmm. Well, the aunt and uncle arrive and I greet them with, "Where the hell have you been, like we've been waiting for ages for you to get here", and so begins dinner (mmm wendy's).
Now these folks are retired and are totally impressed with Meagan and myself, and gobble up all sorts of stories from our trip to date as well as a number I have on short term file regarding my first tour across the country. After a few minutes I say, "Well Joe, I have a problem I need your help with. Will you drive me and my bike to the nearest bike shop I have a broken cable and I don't have a spare". His eyes blink for something like half a second, then says "Sure, I can do that"!
As we pull into the bike shop the staff let me know that they are closing in five minutes and won't be able to work on the bike right away. However, I'm great with them and in a minute the technician throws my bike up on the stand committed to getting me back on the road. Now what was really cool was when he couldn't figure out how to adjust the cable, he called the owner, who in turn jumped in the car with his wife and scooted over to the shop where he was promptly able to get things functioning brilliantly.
See none of that would have been possible without being willing to inconvenience peoples ordinary routine, and everyone involved (even the people on the train!) are really grateful for having contributed. Thanks Vancouver! Really.
Anyways, the rest of the cycling was quite dull in contrast and here I am in Abbotsford now at 12:38 in the morning and wishing you a goodnight.
-Ted
So I start my day at the bright and early time of 10:00 AM. My cycling buddy Meagan, has been up and about for ages and I conclude to stop ignoring her presence like I have been for the last three hours. I'm not terribly concerned with getting moving, so the morning kinda drags out a bit, however we finally hit the road sometime around noon. Anywho, a quick jaunt to the Seabus gets us to Vancouver proper where I make a slight side trip to the Landmark Education Centre to say so long, and arrange for a course I am now taking in December.
That done, Meagan and I make our way to the SkyTrain where we are planning to get out of the central morass that is greater Vancouver. Now I say that casually but you really need to understand that the size and volume of our bikes is tremendous in comparison to most of the other stuff (like people for instance) that normally uses it. Right from the start I say things like out of the way, move, and you better watch out and fairly easily get on board. Meagan hasn't gotten that yet and for her it's a great kerfuffle as the bike gets wedged in the corner and people are crowding her and the trailer is still sticking out onto the platform. I'll leave that part with a note saying that she survived the ordeal.
There we are, at the end of the line and it's just a quick jump over to Fraser highway where we almost immediately run into another cyclist loaded up with respectable amount of gear. It turns out, that his name is Xavier and he is on his way home to Gatineau, QB. I share with him my experiences to date (including a number from my earlier trip) and it takes us a few minutes to discover that Meagan has fallen behind us and has disappeared out of site. And so begins with the first of many breaks waiting for her to catch up.
For myself, I am totally ok with going at whatever rate is comfortable and works for everyone involved. However, it clearly isn't ok with Meagan who after the third or fourth catchup session says "Xavier, you're a perfect cycling partner for Ted, why don't you go together and I will eventually make it to Calgary". Resigned to being abandoned... "oh great" I think to myself, "is she going to be like this the whole damn way across the country"?
At the next break after Meagan catches up, I let Xavier know that we'll meet up with him the following day, at which point Meagan calls here aunt and uncle (we're in Langly) and arranges for them to meet us.
It's at this point that I notice that one of the shift cables on the bike is just about completely frayed away and is imminently about to break. Hmmm. Well, the aunt and uncle arrive and I greet them with, "Where the hell have you been, like we've been waiting for ages for you to get here", and so begins dinner (mmm wendy's).
Now these folks are retired and are totally impressed with Meagan and myself, and gobble up all sorts of stories from our trip to date as well as a number I have on short term file regarding my first tour across the country. After a few minutes I say, "Well Joe, I have a problem I need your help with. Will you drive me and my bike to the nearest bike shop I have a broken cable and I don't have a spare". His eyes blink for something like half a second, then says "Sure, I can do that"!
As we pull into the bike shop the staff let me know that they are closing in five minutes and won't be able to work on the bike right away. However, I'm great with them and in a minute the technician throws my bike up on the stand committed to getting me back on the road. Now what was really cool was when he couldn't figure out how to adjust the cable, he called the owner, who in turn jumped in the car with his wife and scooted over to the shop where he was promptly able to get things functioning brilliantly.
See none of that would have been possible without being willing to inconvenience peoples ordinary routine, and everyone involved (even the people on the train!) are really grateful for having contributed. Thanks Vancouver! Really.
Anyways, the rest of the cycling was quite dull in contrast and here I am in Abbotsford now at 12:38 in the morning and wishing you a goodnight.
-Ted
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
First day of new trip
I am lying in bed on the first day of my new bike tour and figure that I had better document what happened during the day before it disappears into the mists of time and space.
Ok the day began at 1:15 AM (June 3rd) 2009 with me bolting up off of my couch where I had simply been trying to rest my head two hours previously. Like usual, I haven't quite gotten everything that I will need ready, and I need to get out the door by 2:30...
Well, I zip and zoom around the condo searching for and collecting all the nicknacks I feel that I need to bring with me for this summers bike tour, then jump in the car and speed off to my brothers house. My brother, Tim, has said he will drive me to the airport, but first we need to complete his early morning paper route.
This is OK though, after all if I am squished by a bus on my bike trip, I want to make sure that my family has a good last memory of me. So we cruise around and get the papers done, the fly off to the airport.
The bike needs to go through oversized luggage, and it takes a few minutes to get things squared away, but sure enough I find myself only a short time later roaring off into the air on my way to Vancouver.
Upon landing I meet a friend of mine, Kelsey (awesome girl by the way; beautiful eyes too), and we go for breakfast before she drives me out to horseshoe bay off of north Vancouver. From here I assemble my hardware and supplies, and await the arrival of my touring partner (Meagan McAleese).
Now, Meagan is using one of those new-fangled recumbent bikes, and after she arrives, we take our photos while standing in the shore of the pacific ocean. From here it's straight up the hill and along the windy and narrow Marine Drive of North Vancouver. My old faithful Univega Gran Turismo from the first tour is still in great condition and I have no problem driving it in anyway, however, Meagan is still quite unfamiliar with her new bike and there are many stops and starts along the way as she works on it.
Besides a number of pleasant encounters with North Van locals, the majority of the cycling itself was not terribly eventful. I got a number of pretty good pictures, and it felt great to get rolling again (it's been 7 years almost to the day since I started my last major trip) and I am feeling pretty damn slick.
Anyways, we didn't make it out of North Van, and currently we got a hotel room just off of Marine Drive at the travelodge east of the Lions Gate Bridge. Tomorrow the plan is to navigate the balance of the city and make it out onto the highway proper. With any luck we will be in Hope by the end of Friday.
Goodnight
Ok the day began at 1:15 AM (June 3rd) 2009 with me bolting up off of my couch where I had simply been trying to rest my head two hours previously. Like usual, I haven't quite gotten everything that I will need ready, and I need to get out the door by 2:30...
Well, I zip and zoom around the condo searching for and collecting all the nicknacks I feel that I need to bring with me for this summers bike tour, then jump in the car and speed off to my brothers house. My brother, Tim, has said he will drive me to the airport, but first we need to complete his early morning paper route.
This is OK though, after all if I am squished by a bus on my bike trip, I want to make sure that my family has a good last memory of me. So we cruise around and get the papers done, the fly off to the airport.
The bike needs to go through oversized luggage, and it takes a few minutes to get things squared away, but sure enough I find myself only a short time later roaring off into the air on my way to Vancouver.
Upon landing I meet a friend of mine, Kelsey (awesome girl by the way; beautiful eyes too), and we go for breakfast before she drives me out to horseshoe bay off of north Vancouver. From here I assemble my hardware and supplies, and await the arrival of my touring partner (Meagan McAleese).
Now, Meagan is using one of those new-fangled recumbent bikes, and after she arrives, we take our photos while standing in the shore of the pacific ocean. From here it's straight up the hill and along the windy and narrow Marine Drive of North Vancouver. My old faithful Univega Gran Turismo from the first tour is still in great condition and I have no problem driving it in anyway, however, Meagan is still quite unfamiliar with her new bike and there are many stops and starts along the way as she works on it.
Besides a number of pleasant encounters with North Van locals, the majority of the cycling itself was not terribly eventful. I got a number of pretty good pictures, and it felt great to get rolling again (it's been 7 years almost to the day since I started my last major trip) and I am feeling pretty damn slick.
Anyways, we didn't make it out of North Van, and currently we got a hotel room just off of Marine Drive at the travelodge east of the Lions Gate Bridge. Tomorrow the plan is to navigate the balance of the city and make it out onto the highway proper. With any luck we will be in Hope by the end of Friday.
Goodnight
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)