Day 11 - Dramatic

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.