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).
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
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
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