The Great Canadian Cycling Adventure
Across Canada by Bicycle in the Tour du Canada 2000
Welcome > Foothills to Prairies > Prairies to Canadian Shield
Foothills to Prairies: Banff AB to Fort Qu'Appelle SK
Day
12: Banff to Beiseker, AB
"The
reward of a thing well done is to have done it." Ralph Waldo Emerson
"Go
the extra mile; it's seldom crowded."
Executive speech newsletter
It's
8:30 pm and I'm sitting in my tent in the municipal campground in the friendly,
tiny town of Beiseker, Alberta, population 900. It was a very tough day today -- the kind that brewed doubt
for a while about what I'm doing here. The day
was made tougher by lack of sleep last night, an early start, a very long and
testing ride, and a duel with a Prairie thunderstorm.
Last
night in Banff we were sharing the group camping area with several groups of
teenagers on various tours. Kids
will be kids, and some of them were pretty noisy.
One tent full of 15 - 16 year old girls in particular just could not keep
quite, and at 12:30 a.m. I'd had enough. Well,
this area is bear country -- there are warning notices and presentations
everywhere one goes. City kids
especially are pretty worried about sleeping in a tent in the woods after
they've seen the chewed up coolers on display by the camp entrance, and have
been reminded many times about not having foodstuff around the tent.
This squealing tent full of girls needed to be quieted, or I'd not get
any sleep at all. I got up, snuck
up to their tent, grabbed the tent poles, gave the tent a mighty shaking while
scratching at the side with one hand, and growling and roaring as loudly as I
could. I was rewarded by
ear-splitting shrieking and screaming. It took the counsellors a while to calm them down, but the
campground was blessedly peaceful for the rest of the night.
The next morning at 5 am as we got up, one of our number spent an
inordinate amount of time making sure that he very carefully and noisily packed
up all of his gear -- several times I think.
Our driver, Brook, recounted later that she was in the washroom later
that morning while the girls where there, talking about how they'd experienced a
bear attack that night. She
deflated their bragging rights by telling them the "bear" was really
just a ticked off camper wanting some sleep!
With
about four and a half hours sleep, I arose at 5:00 a.m. to help make breakfast.
Jules, Karin and I were on breakfast duty, and stayed around to clean
everything up and help pack up the truck before heading out at 7:45 am on our
185 km ride out of the mountains, through the foothills, and out onto the
Prairies to Beiseker, Alberta.
Spinning
down the Trans Canada Highway a bit later on, the weather's cool.
We're leaving Banff (picture left and below, right) and heading towards Canmore, where we pick up the
"Banff Parkway" for the 70 km run to Cochrane.
There are a few uphill grades, but the general trend is a gentle
downhill. This is good since my quads and butt are very tender from
yesterday's foolishly exuberant sprinting and fast pace with Karl and Jon.
Jules is feeling the same, so we try to conserve our strength to last
this long ride. We're pretty good
riding together. Jules is stronger
on the hills, and I am on the downhills, and on the flats we take turns pulling
each other reasonably well.
At
one point, Jules and I are in a two-bicycle paceline tight on the right side of
the road, along a particularly rough stretch of twisting secondary highway with
essentially no traffic at all. An
official-looking truck with cherries on top lit up screams past us and pulls
over right in front of us. Even
before it's completely to a halt, a big bad redneck Parks and Games warden
throws the door open and jumps out while pointing his finger at us.
In a very loud and stern voice he lectures us for several minutes about
safe riding, obeying the traffic laws, and the $57 fine we're going to get if we
don't behave. Like, duh, man, chill
out! Someone sure pissed in
this Redneck Ranger's cornflakes this morning.
We didn't say a word, just let him finish, get back in his truck, and
zoom away. I guess he just doesn't
like strangers on his stretch of back country road!
A Parks and Game warden, no less!
What a jerk!
From
Canmore to Cochrane is a reasonably fast ride along pretty deserted secondary
roads under overcast sky, with an evil looking storm brewing to the north and
west. We'd met up with Tacia
(picture at left), Karin
and John along the way, had left Dave behind to his own pace, and had passed
Bruce along the way. At the highway
turning to Cochrane, Don Peddie, TDC '96 rider, meets up with Karin and John.
Don has been very helpful to everyone through his journal and his answers
to our many questions on the email forum. He'll
ride with us for a day or two. Karin
and John turn into Cochrane to meet up with Don, and Jules and I turn north to
follow the route. We've done 98 km
to this point, but we've got another 87 km to go, so we press on.
Turning
north from Cochrane, we're immediately besieged by a stepladder series of big
grades climbing out away from the city. This
is tough going -- much like the long grades in the mountains.
While going up the last grade, and about a kilometer away from turning
east, the dark clouds start to dump their load on us. It's time for plastic bags
in the shoes and rain jackets. Unfortunately,
I didn't bring a complete complement of rain gear along, leaving me unprotected
for this cold downpour. Oh well, just have to cycle harder to stay warm.
We're
now making our way towards Airdrie, Alberta.
Coming over a rise, we see an immense downhill in front of us, and
shrouded by rain in the distance beyond, an equally immense uphill.
We thought we were finished with the mountains!
Unbeknownst to us, we would face a series of seven huge downhills
followed by uphills, in the rain. Each
time we'd climb 30 or so metres up, we'd see another downhill followed by
uphill. Not knowing how many of
these hills were to come, this gets very depressing.
Each downhill leaves us chilled to the bone, each passing truck drenches
us with spray and road grit, each time we crest a big hill, we see another.
At the bottom of the last or second last big climb, I forget now which
one, I was ready to climb off my bike, throw it in the ditch, and flag down a
ride. This is definitely the lowest
point of the entire trip so far; I'm discouraged, cold, wet, hungry and
physically exhausted after 110km and then these big hills.
I
remember thinking, "One more, I know I can do one more," and then I'd
keep cranking along in slow motion, mind somewhere else but I don't remember
where. Relief turns out to be just
over the next hill -- it stops raining, the temperature goes up two or three
degrees, and ahead of us we can see forever.
All of a sudden, we're done with the foothills and we're on the Prairies.
Just like in the mountains, it's just amazing how quickly the weather and
surrounding countryside changes, even at bicycle speeds.
At
the next turn we take a moment to look back.
We can see Calgary on the horizon about 30 km away to the south, and we
can see the line of the Rockies marching along the horizon, over a hundred
kilometers away. We have come a
long way so far today!
At
the next turn, a short while later, we're on the final stretch to Airdrie.
The townsite is 11 km away, but we can see it clearly across the
undulating plain before us. Reaching the town, we've come 142 km and decide it's time for
a good break. We find a Mr. Sub at
a mall and chow down with subs and soup. A little warmer, a little rested, a
little dryer, we head out of Airdrie. A
strange town -- the population has exploded from 4,000 to 20,000 in just a few
years. It's a bedroom community for
Calgary now. Everything in the
town, from the housing to retail/commercial to the roads, look like they were
built within the last year. This is
part of the effects of Calgary's rapid growth.
Leaving
Airdrie, we've got about 40 to 45 km left to go, and there's a huge black storm
cell building directly north of us, with dark rain bands under it, and
occasional lightning. (see picture right)
We watch
warily as we spin along. As
the storm track starts to converge with ours, Jules says, "We can outrun
this!" I'm thinking, "Oh
yeah, we have about 25 km left to go, about 14 km due east then 11 km north to
Beiseker. You want me to sprint?" The
local effect wind funnelling into the storm cell is starting to pick up, in our
faces. The storm is NNE of us and
tracking to hit us just as we're cycling the last 11 km northbound into Beiseker.
To beat it, we're going to have to average just over 30 km/hr probably,
into the wind, and we're going to have to gain enough ground to flank the storm
and then cross in front of it's path. Good
luck!
Forming
a two bike paceline, we barrel along, rotating the lead every couple of minutes.
In a paceline, the leader breaks the wind and sets the pace, and the
follower gets to relax just a little in the draft, just centimeters off the lead
bike's back wheel. We're riding
strongly and smoothly, we've got an immediate objective -- to stay out of the
downpour, lightning and potential hail. We
don't want to huddle in a ditch or a culvert if it hits us.
Turning the corner to go north to Beiseker, we've now got a 20 km/hr
headwind in our faces, 11 km to go the sign says, and we can see the locus of
the storm cell just off our left elbows, lightning jumping between clouds and
ground, and heavy rain bands. The
last 11 km have largely been erased from my short term memory already.
I just remember that ugly black cloud, with downdraft cells roiling
violently. I remember the pain in my legs and not being able to push harder,
heart hammering and lungs feeling ready to explode.
Preliminary light bands of rain sprinkle us a little as we bear down on
Beisker, which we can see well. Sprinting
the last few kilometers, we turn into the town, see the road to the campground
with our truck parked there, and sprint down the lane to it.
I remember pulling up beside the truck, falling off my bike and lying on
the ground with chest heaving, and yelling up at the angry clouds in victory.
The storm answered with a bolt of lightning and thunder, and 15 seconds
later the downpour started. We beat
the storm! What a way to end a 185 km ride!
What a way to erase Redneck Ranger and the vicious hills earlier in the
day!
Once
the storm cell passed, the sky lightened and the rain stopped.
Time for a well-deserved hot shower, and time to set up our tents and get
ready for dinner. The meal tonight is prepared
by the folks of Beiseker. Apparently
they've being doing this for each TDC group for several years.
This is a village of 900 people, with a nice campground, and impressive
facilities in school, community centre and
ball park. A few of the town councillors and others have prepared an
endless supply of hamburgers and drinks for us.
While chatting with them and our own riders, I managed to eat five
hamburgers, and about eight glasses of orange juice!
(The record was seven hamburgers -- we do burn up a lot of food!)
Later
in the evening, several of us troop over to the town council meeting where Don
Peddie presents the mayor and council with a plaque thanking them for their
continuing hospitality. The local
reporter is on hand to take a picture and record the event, and promises to
email the story to us.
I'm
in bed by 8:30 pm, and I'm sure I fall asleep within seconds.
Tomorrow is a shorter day, and we've agreed to start breakfast a bit
later -- at last a chance for a good sleep.
It's started to rain again, and lulled by it pelting on my tent, crash
into a deep sleep with face burning
from windburn, thighs burning from the 185 km day and 11 km sprint to beat the
storm, and a belly full of hamburgers. What
a life!
Daily
Stats:
Weather: 10C in morning in
Banff, cool all day.
Wind:
light tailwind
out of Banff, none to speak of for most of the day, and storm headwinds into
Beiseker.
Official
distance: 183 km
Distance actually cycled:
187.5 km
PBJs
consumed to date: 24
Bananas consumed to date: 39
...alan
Municipal Campground
Beiseker,
Alberta
Day
13: Beiseker to Drumheller, Alberta
Day 14: Rest Day in Drumheller, AB
July
11, 2000
"Wishing
to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit."
Aristotle
"A
pessimist complains about the wind; an optimist expects it to change; the
realist adjusts the sails." William
Arthur Ward
Today
is planned to be a shorter day -- only 83 km official distance, from Beiseker to
Drumheller. Bud's itinerary is
pretty smart -- tough days are most often followed by easier days (so far at
least), and the maps we get each morning are quite sufficient to avoid getting
lost, and also point out "take a look-see" highlights along the way.
We
all sleep in this morning. I wake
up at 6 am only out of biological necessity.
Nine hours solid sleep! What
a treat! After a filling breakfast
of french toast, packing sandwiches and filling water bottles, we hit the road
to Drumheller.
The
Prairies are amazing -- a little like being on the ocean.
One can see the horizon all around.
Of the Rockies where we started yesterday, there is not a sign on the
horizon. Of Calgary, which we
bypassed at distance, there's only a smog smudge in the sky to mark it's
location.
We're
heading east, due east, with a light following tailwind, out of the west just
like it's supposed to be. We
pass fields of canola, bright yellow in the sunlight, and pass over an endless
sea of gently rolling terrain.
On
the way to Drumheller, we take a rest and sightseeing stop at Horseshoe Canyon
(picture left).
This is a water-eroded deep canyon that exposes hundreds of layers of
soil and clay - the kind that has exposed the many dinosaur finds in the
southern Alberta area. After a few
pictures, we hit the road again. We've
got a good paceline -- me, Craig, Karl and Jules -- and we push pretty hard at
times. Our average over the day is
just over 30 km/hr, and we're cruising in a four-bike paceline at 45 - 50 km/hr
at times.
Drumheller
greats us with great swooping curves of downhill into the Red River valley.
The first retail establishment of note is a DQ, necessitating a stop and
a treat for our hard work. Refreshed,
we detour into downtown for the obligatory stop at the bike shop, and then hit
the road again.
This can't be left alone, so we again stop for pictures (see picture
right).
The
campground is about 6 or 7 km out of town, up a very long very gentle grade on
new pavement, into a fresh breeze. We
arrive just after Brook, and we all have to wait around until official check-in
time of 1 p.m. The campground is
really nice -- grassy sites with lots of trees to provide shade from the hot
sun.
First
order of business is drying out tents and sleeping bags, followed by showers and
laundry. We've got several days
worth of wet clothing, most embedded with road grit, to get clean. The campsite
soon looks like a wash zone with line after line of drying laundry.
Dinner is a great feast of tacos, with oranges and quickies for dessert.
Then I spend about an hour carefully cleaning and inspecting everything
on my bike. I don't want any
surprises during the long Prairie legs, and this is the best prevention.
Right now it's 8:30 p.m. and the sun won't set until long after I do.
Tomorrow's a rest day, and a well-earned one.
It's a chance to see the Tyrell Dinosaur Museum, write some postcards,
and get renewed for another week of hard cycling across Canada.
Day
14: July 12: Rest Day
Got
to sleep in again this morning! Only
dire biological imperative was able to
cause me to get out of my warm sleeping bag and venture forth at 6 am.
Once up though, I was up for the day, as were several others.
The TDC group that had left Vancouver one day ahead of us was making breakfast this morning before
hitting the road again, and they had lots to spare.
I was able to mooch apple-cinnamon pancakes and fruit salad from them in
return for helping to wash dishes -- what a great deal!
With some coffee, a banana and a tomato, that was a pretty good
breakfast.
It's
a scorcher today -- clear blue sky and about 32C by noon.
Several of us wanting to visit the Tyrell Dinosaur Museum today arrange a
local bus service, and off we go. The
Tyrell Museum is world renowned and sits on a badlands site where there are
active paleontology digs. It's also
the centre for paleontology research in Alberta, and affiliated with the
universities, and heavily funded by the provincial government.
Jules and I sign up for a "Dig Watch" and join a bunch of other
tourists for a bus trip a few kilometers down the road to an active dig site.
Our guide Ryan explains that the site we're at is an old coal mining
site, where hadrosaur remnants were later found.
He
also explains the various layers we see in the surrounding old eroded banks of
the Red River. The pale white bands are sandstone, the dirtier grey bands
are mudstone, the black bands are coal, and there are outcrops of red shale.
There are also large layers of bentonite, also known as popcorn rock for
its appearance. This is actually
volcanic ash, and provides evidence of the periods of volcanic activity back
through the ages. The
crumby-when-dry popcorn rock has a very fine texture and when wet, turns
slippery slimy like very fine clay. This
slimy nature caused the coal miners to call it "dinosaur snot", which
is the term our group -- the kids especially -- immediately adopt.
Along
the trail for a few hundred meters we come to an active dig site (see picture
below left) where a group
of about twelve are excavating the hillside with what appear to be dental tools.
What a job -- sit in the burning sun all day and pick at the dirt with a
dental pick! They had several large and many many small bone fragments
exposed, and some encased in plaster already for protection.
This is a "medium grade" site which means that bone fragments
occur at the rate of about 10 per square metre.
This site contains the remnants of several juvenile hadrosaurs, and if it
turns out to be especially rich, then it'll be much more seriously studied.
Along
the hillside a little ways, staying at the orangey-brown 60 million year old
level, we're turned loose to find our own bones. Ryan looks around for a few minutes and picks out a few
fragments to show us, so we know what to look for.
He also makes if very clear that it's illegal in Alberta to remove any
specimens from the site, or to disturb any of significant size.
This is enforced with a fine of up to $50,000 or 3 years in the slammer.
They take their old bones seriously in Alberta.
Not long after Ryan turns us loose, we're scratching in the dirt as if
we're looking for gold or diamonds. A
few people start to find fragments, and Ryan confirms them for us -- or not.
Jules finds one, then I find one. Pretty
soon we've scratched a few out of the dirt, including one that's about half the
size of a baseball (see picture below right). The bone pattern and marrow are pretty evident.
This is really cool! Jules
takes my picture with the piece of dinosaur before I carefully put it back
exactly where I found it -- I don't want to meet up with Redneck Ranger again!
After
our Dig Watch tour, we have some lunch and then take an hour or so to see the
exhibits and visit the gift shop for postcards and t-shirts.
Then it's back to camp, where the owner let's me use his phone line to
get online and send out all the journal entries.
These
rest days are nice. This one was
sorely needed. A few times today,
climbing stairs, my quads tell me quite clearly that they aren't ready to move
on yet. Perhaps another good
night's sleep will help? Tomorrow will tell, as the journey continues with Day
15 -- more Prairies!
Daily
Stats (Day 13 on road, Day 14 is rest day):
Weather:
13C in morning in
Beiseker; early cloud cover burned off by mid-morning to reveal clear blue sky;
about 28C in Drumheller; wind about 15 - 20km from west.
Official
distance: 83 km
Distance actually cycled:
78.2 Avg
speed on road: 30.1 km/hr
PBJs
consumed to date: 25
Bananas consumed to date: 43
...alan
Dinosaur Trail Campground,
Drumheller, Alberta
Day
15: Drumheller to Youngstown, Alberta
July
13, 2000
"A
pessimist complains about the wind; an optimist expects it to change; the
realist adjusts the sails." William
Arthur Ward
The
day dawned clear and bright at about 12C. Thinking
today would turn out to be a scorcher like yesterday, Jules, Karl, Jon and I hit
the road as soon as we can -- at 7:10 am. Our
route today takes us from the campground back into Drumheller to pick up highway
9, then north for a bit, and then a long way east to Youngstown.
The
climb out of the Red River valley is marked on our map as "long but not
steep". What it didn't way is
that the climb is 125m bottom to top. That's
a fair climb even at a 3% grade, especially with the temperature climbing
already.
Karl,
Jon, Jules and I form a four-bicycle paceline and rotate the lead constantly
throughout the day. Cycling on the
Prairies isn't much fun -- this is real endurance building, both physical and
mental. By mid-morning the
temperature is over 30C and still climbing, and it's even hotter on the asphalt.
I'm carrying an extra water bottle today, giving me about 150 oz in
total.
We
stop often for bum, banana and sandwich breaks. (Left: abandoned store in Richdale) Cycling is monotonous. The
road arrows straight ahead into the horizon with only slight rises and dips
except for occasional stream valleys. The
heat shimmers off the pavement. We're
on fairly new pavement for the most part, with little debris if any on the
shoulder. When leading the paceline,
my mind is somewhere else, I fix on the white line a little ways in front of my
bike, and spin away with as smooth a cadence as I can muster.
Mid-way
through the morning the wind picks up -- in our faces!
This isn't supposed to happen. Around
noon, with about 25km left to go, it's about 35C with a 20 - 25 km/hr wind
blowing straight at us. This is not
fun.
Finally,
we arrive in Youngstown, 143 km, five cycling hours and six hours elapsed time
behind us. We are exhausted.
I've gone through the better part of 150 oz of fluid, and I'm hungry,
thirsty and ready to collapse. Brook
hasn't passed us on the highway, and sure enough she's not in town.
In the bar, we get a message from Brook saying that she had some truck
problems and would be late. To fill
the time and stay cool, we sit in the local hotel bar and consume lots of ice
water, beer, potato chips and sub sandwiches.
Over the next few hours, others wander in, clearly beat by the weather
too. Brook arrives around 4:30 p.m. and relates her story of getting the truck
fixed in Drumheller.
Like
Beiseker, Youngstown is a small village with a big heart.
The townsfolk prepare a feast for us which disappears quickly.
People are friendly and go all out to help us, and they've been doing
this for about ten years. This part
of rural Canada is a very salt-of-the earth place where people depend on each
other and sense of community is very strong.
While it seems a desolate place (I can't imagine what winter is like),
the warmth of the people is strong.
This
is a short day with not a lot to report. I
only took one picture today (see picture at left of rest stop at abandoned
country store). Tomorrow's
forecast to be another scorcher, and several of us are planning to hit the road
about 5 a.m. to beat the heat, traffic and wind.
150 km to Kindersely, and across the border to Saskatchewan.
Daily
Stats :
Weather: 12C at dawn, 35C
by mid-day. Clear blue sky. Furnace day!
Official
distance: 143 km
Distance actually cycled:
140 Avg
speed on road: 28 km/hr
PBJs
consumed to date: 27
Bananas consumed to date: 48
...alan
Municipal
Centre,
Youngstown, Alberta
Day
16: Youngstown, Alberta to Kindersley, Saskatchewan
July
14, 2000
"Anybody
can push down. That's natural. You
walk up hills, you walk up steps. But
cycling is unlike any other sport I can think of. There is no other sport that requires picking up the leg so
fast. That's where the real art of
spinning is." Mike Kolin,
cycling coach
Dinner
last night in Youngstown was great. Another
small village turns out to support TDC riders with lots of good food and
friendship. The townfolk are
curious and friendly, and a highlight of the conversation is someone's comment
on Brook's "fierce" hair. Red,
long, thick and curly, it is indeed fierce.
While
many people elected to roll out their Thermarests and sleeping bags inside the
Rec Centre, some of us pitched out tents outside and enjoyed a lovely sunset and
cooling breeze all night long. Several
of us planned to leave early this morning, and made our lunches and filled out
water bottles last night. I was up
at 4:30 a.m., half an hour earlier than desired --
mind over bladder is a myth.
Up
anway, I got out my little WinCE PC and tried connecting to Rogers@home dial-in
service again. I've been trying to
email out journals for several days, and can always get a modem connection, but
seldom get logged on -- Rogers service and capacity on their 1-800 lines is
pretty dismal. It's really
Rogers.not @home recently. At 4:45
a.m. (6:45 a.m. Toronto time), I get in very quickly and off goes all my email,
finally! C has promised to
forward it to my addressee list to make things easier.
Tents
packed, a couple of bananas and some juice for breakfast, and I'm on the road at
5:50 a.m. with Jules and Jon. We've
got 150km to go today, mostly due east, and we've got a 20 km/hr wind out of the
SW to help us. As the day goes on, the wind will increase to about 30 to 35
km/hr.
Our
plan for the day is pretty simple. There
isn't really anything to stop for along the way other than the border crossing
into Saskatchewan and food stops. 
The day goes something like:
Cycle
for an hour.
Stop for a banana.
Cycle for an hour.
Stop for a PBJ.
Cycle for almost an hour; stop for pictures at Saskatchewan border; cycle a bit
more.
Stop for a banana.
Cycle for about an hour.
Stop for PBJ.
Cycle for about half an hour.
Pull into Dairy Queen at Kindersley and reward ourselves with DQ sundaes.
Crossing
the Prairies is a mental challenge. With the intense heat (up to about 33C
today) it's a physical challenge too, yet the roaring tailwind offsets it a
great deal. It would be an extreme
challenge with headwinds. The
mental challenge is the monotony of the landscape when crossing it at bicycle
speed. Every time we crest a little
rise in the highway, we can see it continuing on straight as an arrow towards
the horizon, or to the next rise. The
horizon is 11 to 13 km away, the distance creating a feeling of moving very
slowly through the land. When
approaching Kindersley, we can see it from about 15 km away.
The sheer expanse of land and sky makes one feel small, just like the
mass of the mountains did.
Jules,
Jon and I left at 5:50 a.m. and we pull into the DQ at Kindersley 150 km and
5:20 later. That's 4:32 of riding
and less than a hour's total stop time. This
is much different than the trip from Golden to Banff, where we spent many hours
along the route exploring and siteseeing.
Tomorrow
is another long day -- 154 km. The
weather forecast is for slightly cooler temperatures, and even stronger winds
out of the west. It'll be another
good day to get an early start. Right
now, it's mid-afternoon, sweltering hot, no shade anywhere in the campground.
Taking
stock, all seems reasonably well with the world. Everyone's pretty healthy, although there's an assortment of
complaints -- sore butts, sore back, some sunburn. I've got a sore foot that's not bothering me too much.
I stepped on a tent peg and did a nasty job on my foot -- lots of bruising
and a puncture cut right in my arch. Fortunately, there's no pressure on the
arch when cycling. Like many
others, I've also got a sore butt. The problem isn't chafing but rather just pressure from hour
after hour on the saddle. Everyone's
bikes are in reasonable shape too -- no more traumatic injuries like broken
pedals or bottom brackets. Lot's of
flats though. Dave has 15!
Bruce has 6 or 7! Carol has had a tire blow off in the heat two days in a row.
Frustrating events to be sure, but not trip-threatening.
Can't
think of anything else to report for today, so it's time for a nap before
dinner.
Daily
Stats :
Weather: 15C at dawn, 33C
by mid-day. Clear blue sky. Furnace day!
Official
distance: 150 km
Distance actually cycled:
150 Avg
speed on road: 33.1 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
1620.5 km
PBJs
consumed to date: 29
Bananas consumed to date: 53
...alan
Kindersley Regional Park
Kindersley, Saskatchewan
Day
17: Kindersley to Outlook, Saskatchewan
July
15, 2000
"I
mean, you either love spinning the pedals and watching the scenery whiz by, or
you don't. And if you love it, not
much can sour you on the idea of riding your bike." Keith Mills, cycling writer
Today's
quote captures the feeling beautifully. Today
was a spinner's delight.
The
overnight chill persisted into the morning hours as the sun fought with the
clouds to warm the earth. Many of
us had prepared to leave camp early for today's 155 km roll eastward to Outlook.
Jon was first out at about 6 a.m., followed by Karl about 15 minutes
later; Jules and I left at 6:30 a.am.
We
spun away the first 30 km with neither wind nor traffic, and with the sun
fighting a rapidly forming storm cell just to our north.
The Prairies are a weather watcher's delight.
We watch a frontal line, marked by a singular slightly curving row of
nimbus clouds, stretching from horizon to horizon as it rolls over the
countryside. During the first hour or so, we watch as the storm cells grow
in size, front runners of high cloud spreading quickly before and out to the
sides. As quickly as it forms, the
ominous clouds dissipate into wisps and then nothing.
After about an hour and a half the first tentative rustling of the coming
westerly tailwind can be seen bending the roadside grasses.
By
the time we get to Rosetown at 83 km, the tailwind has increased to about 25
km/hr and we spin along almost effortlessly at times. We were promised a good bakery in Rosetown and hoping for
cinammon buns, we take a detour through town.
As we turn the corner onto the main street, we find it lined with people
getting ready for a parade. At the
end of the block, there's a long line in front of a pancake breakfast.
Rosetown is celebrating annual homecoming and it's 90th anniversary.
Sadly for us, the bakery actually closed months ago, the proprietors
having retired, and nobody else taking on the business.
Rather than stay and be in the parade, we go back to the PetroCan Family
Restaurant. It's packed with
pre-parade patrons, and the harried help take a while to get to us.
It's worth the wait though for the $4.95 special of eggs, bacon, toast,
home fries and coffee.
While
inside the diner, we can see the clouds bunch and turn angry, yet just as we're
ready to leave, the last line of clouds passes, the sun breaks through and we're
looking at a popcorn sky again. By
now the wind has decided that this is the day it's going to roar for us.
Our route out of Rosetown takes us south for five kilometers before
turning east again for the remaining 66 km to Outlook.
The crosswind on the southbound ride is fierce, jostling our bikes into a
weaving path down the shoulder. As
we turn left to head east again, the wind picks up our behinds and literally
pushes us along. My mascot Bucky
the Beaver, sitting facing backwards on my rear pack, is surely grinning at the
wind as I speed him along the road.
We're
on Saskatchewan highway 15 now, heading due east in a straight line puncuated
only by the occasional "S" bend put there for reasons known only to
the highway engineers, certainly not to make following the terrain easier.
The land is dead flat, the horizon about 15 km away.
The
tailwind is blowing at an average of about 30 to 35 km/hr with sustained gusts
to about 55 km/hr. For the nautical
types, that's 30 knots, well beyond the small craft warning stage -- reefing
time. On a bicycle it's easy to
tell how hard the wind's blowing. When
you're going the same speed as the wind, it feels dead calm.
On this 66 km downwind straight stretch, we're averaging well over 40
km/hr, quite often 50 km/hr, and when spinning out the biggest gears we've got,
up over 60 km/hr. A couple of times
I spin it right up to see what happens and I top out at 68 km/hr.
The strength of the wind and the flatness of the land is amazing.
From 60 km/hr, without pedaling, it takes me over 2 km to coast down to
about 35 km/hr. We are flying!
The boost one gets from a tailwind is about 1/3 the windspeed.
An average 45 km/hr tailwind adds 15 km/hr to a "dead calm"
spinning speed of 30 km/hr, giving us the 45 km/hr average.
The only problem with going at the same speed as the wind on a warm day
is that it's very hot! There's none
of the cooling wind we usually generate through our forward motion.
Oh well! The flying makes it
more than worthwhile!
Flying
downwind like this is a great time to work on spinning technique.
Most non-cyclists think of riding a bicycle as pushing first on one
pedal, then on the other, and repeating this time after time.
Nothing could be further from the true.
Spinning is not an oscillating motion; it's a circular motion.
Some talk about the analogy to a hamster in a spinning wheel, and how
it's paws start high up on the side, and how it pushes the wheel through a good
portion of it's rotation. Others
talk about a wiping motion for the feet - pretending you're wiping your feet on
a circular doormat, starting as high as you can, and sweeping the foot back and
up as far as you can. Whatever
works, it results in a smooth fast rotation that's very efficient. Spinning at 80 to 90 pedal rpm's is not uncommon at all, and
very comfortable for long distances. Spinning
at 120 to 140 rpm's is not uncommon when driving down a hill.
Today I'm spinning along at 90 to 95 rpm in a big gear, going 50 km/hr,
and feeling no pain at all (except in my butt!)
Sometimes
there are no cars for very long stretches, and we can see them coming many
kilometers away, allowing me to play slalom with the dotted line down the centre
of the highway. This is fun!
The
last 66 km pass in a blur in just over an hour, ending in a long downgrade to
cross the South Saskatchewan River, and an equally long upgrade on the other
side. The South Saskatchewan River
is flowing well, but obviously well below high water. There are large sandbars visible along it's length.
The water is clear -- I can see the bottom quit clearly from the bridge
-- and deep in the main channel.
After
climbing up the hill out of the river valley, we're in the town of Outlook, and
we turn to run the last kilometer across the wind. With the crosswind, at times my bike is leaning sideways ten
degrees or so. Eric later recounts
that he went to slow down, applied the brakes, and as his weight shifted forward
the wind picked up his back wheel and lifted it right off the ground!
Arriving
in town early, we take a few minutes to check the place out.
Outlook is definitely more prosperous than other towns we've been in
lately. There are very few
"for sale" signs here. Properties
are well maintained and none of the stores are boarded up. In the grocery store
to pick up some goodies to take back to camp, the gentleman working the produce
section chats with us funny-dressed guys and wishes us well.
In the pharmacy, the lady talks about the bad weather in Red Deer last
night. Red Deer is only about 50 km
north of the track we're following. They
had severe storms and tornado activity last night, with several fatalities.
So far we've missed 15 cm of snow in Merritt by one day, severe storms
and hail in the Calgary area by a day, a severe storm in Rosetown by one day,
tornado actvity by 50 km; I'm feeling lucky, and wondering how long our luck can
last. Apparently the TDC group a
week ahead of us is beset by severe rainstorms and flooding near Minedosa, MB,
and people are holed up wherever they can.
This is one strange summer for weather!
In
Outlook though, I ask the lady in the pharmacy if the wind blows this hard very
often, and without a moment's hesitation, with only a hint of a twinkle in her
eye, she says, "Oh, is it windy outside today?"
There's my answer, I guess!
Arriving
at camp, about half the group is there already (picture at top of group relaxing
after a good day's ride), and Brook hasn't arrived yet.
The camp is on a bluff overlooking the river, and we lounge around
enjoying the sunshine while waiting for her. Standing near the edge of the
bluff, with the wind roaring at me, I can lean over quit far and be supported by
the wind (see picture at left taken by Karin).
After
Brook arrives and camp is set up, several of us decide to go for a swim in the
river. Craig, Kelly, Jon, Eric,
Brook and I need a bit of peer pressure to jump in, but jump we do.
The water is cool, refreshing and deep, and there's about a three knot
current running not too far offshore. After
a lot of splashing around and pictures, we're on our way back to camp.
What a strange sight we are with well-defined tan lines that run from
sock-top to cycle-short hemline just above the knees, from mid-bicep to wrist,
and from neck up; all the rest is lilly white (picture right).
While
waiting for dinner, I take the opportunity for a little bike maintenance,
prodded by a rear wheel with cones (hub bearings) a little too loose.
Not wanting to leave it until rest day for fear of the bearings becoming
ovalized, I set out to fix it. It
appears to be the drive side that's loose, leading me to believe I have to take
off the cogset to tighten the race. After
borrowing a freewheel tool from Bruce, and with lots of helpful advice from Ron
and Karl, I pull the cogset and have a closer look.
It turns out that the only adjustments needing to be made can be done
from the non-drive side. Oh well!
I now know how to pull and change a cogset.
Adjustments made, I notice that my brake pads are worn past the safety
grooves. I have brought spares along, intending to change them on some
rest day. No time like the present!
Within a few minutes, the new pads are installed and adjusted, my chain
is lubed and clean, and she's ready to roll again.
Dinner
tonight is curried lentil soup (from scratch), chicken drummies simmered in
tomato-based vegetable-laden sauce, rotini pasta, tossed green salad, wine
courtesy a few of the group, and apple fritters courtesy of Karl.
What a feast once again!
Tomorrow's
forecast predicts a lower probability of precipitation than today, the same
winds, and we've got a ride of about 150 km to Nokomis.
The map shows that after a couple of bends getting away from Outlook, the
road runs dead straight eastward for the entire distance.
It'll be another day of glorious tailwind spinning, cloud watching and
"how far away is that grain elevator" distance games.
The
sun's going down, the clouds are luminous, the temperature is falling, and the
wind is dying off for the night, it's
energy spent for the day. My energy
is spent too, and it's time to melt into a warm sleeping bag.
Day's
high:
Spinning up to 60 km/hr, then coasting for over 2 km and still running at over
35 km/hr!
Day's
low: Discovering
that the bakery in Rosetown was closed month's ago.
Daily
Stats :
Weather: 12C at dawn, 20C
by mid-day. Roaring winds from W (30-35 km/hr, gusting to 55 km/hr)
Official
distance: 154 km
Distance actually cycled:
157.5 Avg
speed on road: 37.5 km/hr!!
Total
distance cycled to date:
1778 km
PBJs
consumed to date: 30
Bananas consumed to date: 57
...alan
Outlook Regional Park
Outlook, Saskatchewan
Day
18: Outlook to Nokomis, Saskatchewan
July
16, 2000
"If
all difficulties were known at the outset of a long journey,
most of us would never set out at all." Dan Rather
Other
than the occasional "S" bend, today's route is straight as an arrow.
Néri and Jon are first away from camp.
Néri is an amazing guy; he's 70, fit as a fiddle, and has a very relaxed
and positive outlook on life. Not
the fastest on the road perhaps, yet he's making this trip coast to coast under
his own power, at his own pace -- this man is an inspiration.
Jules
and I leave camp at 7:00 a.m. It's
cooler today at about 10C, with a NW breeze already blowing at about 15 - 20
km/hr. It's Sunday and there's no
traffic at all. The two of us spin
along the highway at about 30 km/hr, chatting about life and how we came to be
on this trip. We each recognize and
appreciate the support from family, friends and colleagues at work.
The
sky clouds over before long and the wind picks up -- it's getting chilly.
I've been waiting for a chance to take a photo of Prairie sky and endless horizon, and the chance presents itself as we approach
Kenaston. This place (see picture above) claims to be the "Blizzard Capital of Canada", surely
a dubious honour!
After
a while we encounter some road construction.
There's about 19 km of road being repaved at a cost of $1.7 million -- in
Ontario it costs about that much per kilometer. The road crew is out working on a Sunday morning, and we have
little problem getting through the construction zone.
We
caught and past Néri a while ago, and now Karl catches us, slows to chat for a
while, and then zooms ahead. Karl
is a very strong rider and likes to push the pace -- more than we're ready for
today.
And
now the road turns ugly. There are
big patches of broken and semi-patched pavement, interspersed with stretches of
gravel. It's rough and tiring,
jarring the behind, hands and legs. We
can't dictate the road conditions upon which we travel, but we sure can decide
how to deal with them. It isn't
raining, hailing or lightning. The
wind is on our rear quarter instead of in our faces.
We're not at work, and not in a dentist's chair. It's just a little bit
of rough road for about 100 km out of our journey today.
While
we might not like the rough road and gravel, it does require different riding
skills. Concentration is required.
The strips cleared by traffic have bare and very rough chopped up pavement
that's simply too rough to ride on at any speed at all.
The piles of loose gravel between and alongside these strips are too
loose to track on reliably. The best
path is a strip about 8 to 10 cm wide between the broken pavement and loose
gravel, where finer sand and gravel has filled in the roughness to some degree.
Here we are, spinning along this thin strip down the road at 32 to 36
km/hr, concentrating on the path, the balance, and at the same time watching for
traffic.
Fortunately,
this road is very lightly used. Later
in the day, a local lady tells me she hasn't used the road in over a year.
We can tell why. Throughout the entire trip today, we see only 55 cars and 4
trucks.
About
15 km from our destination, Nokomis, the inevitable happens.
In one of the many transitions from "pavement" to gravel, at about 35
km/hr, I misjudge the transition to the favoured strip of gravel and hit some loose
and bigger rocks. I'm rewarded with
a flat on my rear tire. On the bright side, we're due for a break anyway.
Flipping off the tire, I quickly find the leak - a clear pinch flat, even
though I'm running nice hard tires (about 120 psi).
I must have hit a good sized rock with very sharp edges.
The tire itself looks okay -- thanks again to the wonders of Kevlar. After patching the hole, the tire won't take pressure; there
must be another hole. Taking the
path of least resistance, I pull out a new tube, install it, pump it up,
put the wheel back on, and we're on our way, the tube to be dealt with later.
Another casualty of the rough road is that Jule's mascot, Scottie the Wolf, appears to have been thrown clear of his seatbelt on Jule's rear pack, and is missing in action. There isn't much for a wolf to do out here, and we can only hope his cunning will help him survive the harsh winters.
While
stopped, Robert caught up to us and carried on, and we can see him several
kilometers ahead. The final 15 km
go as smoothly as one might expect on this truly terrible road, and we enter
Nokomis, population about 480.
Nokomis'
(picture, left) claim to fame is a grain elevator operation and the convergence of the CNR and
CPR main lines. The lines actually
cross here, the only place between Winnipeg and Vancouver where they do.
At one time, Nokomis was destined to be a major rail centre; today it's a
sleepy little town with a character of it's own.
In
town, Brook, Jon, Karl, Jules, Robert and I head over to the local diner for
lunch. Great homemade beef barley
soup, pizza, hamburgers, club sandwiches, beer -- this'll tide us over to
dinner!
We're
"camping" at the Nokomis Arena. Some spread out Thermarests inside,
while some of us prefer to pitch tents on the grass outside where it's cooler.
The bonus is that we have use of the Arena kitchen facilities.
As Jules, Karin and I are on galley duty tonight, this is very much
appreciated. A real gas range, real
sinks, what a treat! Dinner is
Spanish rice, Greek salad, tossed salad, and an extended and re-energized
lentil-curry soup courtesy of Chef Bruce.
Dinner
and cleanup done, it's time to repair my tube as a spare.
I find another two holes peripheral to the one I patched on the road.
That was one sharp rock!
My
tent light's batteries are running low; it's time
to crash.
Goodnight!
Day's
high: Lack
of traffic on roads today. Family Restaurant's beef barley soup.
Day's
low: Discovering
that most of the road after Kenaston was either chopped up and full of potholes,
or loose, rough gravel. Jules losing mascot
Scottie.
Daily
Stats :
Weather: 10C at dawn,
about 23C mid-day; good NW wind around 20-25 km/hr; mostly cloudy.
Official
distance: 145 km
Distance actually cycled:
146.8 Avg
speed on road: 32.7 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
1925 km
PBJs
consumed to date: 31
Bananas consumed to date: 60
...alan
Nokomis Arena,
Nokomis, Saskatchewan
Day
19: Nokomis to Fort Qu'Appelle, Saskatchewan
Day 20: Rest day in Fort Qu'Appelle
July
17 & 18, 2000
"At
times you ride on top of the world. Other times you can't turn the pedals even
once more. You've lost energy and
you're not going to get it back. Then
comes perseverance and going beyond what the physical body can do."
Ed Pavelka, cycling writer and winner of age-division team Race Across
America (RAAM).
It's
10:00 p.m. and I'm sitting on the beach at the Echo Lake Campground in Fort
Qu'Appelle, Saskatchewan. The sun
went down around 9:00 p.m. and there's just enough light in the sky to highlight
a turbulent anvil-head on an approaching storm front. The wind blew strong from the SE all day, averaging about 25
km/hr, gusting to about 30 km/hr at times, feeding air into the storm.
During the day, the sky changed from clear blue to very high mare's tails
cirrus, the large sweeps evidence of the upper prevailing wind shearing against
the lower winds circling to the storm front.
I'm thinking that's it's a good thing the storm didn't move in on us
during the day today -- that would have been injury added to hardship.
Today
the wind gods extracted their toll for the favourable tailwinds of the last two
days. We battled a SE wind the
entire 160 km from Nokomis to Fort Qu'Appelle.
The day started well; it was cold last night in Nokomis, down to 1C.
Along with several others, I'd chosen to pitch my tent on the grass outside the
arena, rather than sleep inside where it seemed hot and stuffy.
With my woolies on and a down sleeping bag, I was toastie warm and dry.
Up at 5 a.m., Jules, Karin and I are on breakfast duty. Like last night, we have the advantage of the arena snack bar
commercial kitchen facilities, making breakfast preparation and cleanup pretty
easy. Karin had organized the
breakfast things the night before, shortening the time we need this morning to
serve up porridge with raisins, coconut, apple chunks and cinnamon, along with
the usual big fruit bowl, coffee and the bread, PB & J for riders to make
their lunches.
Breakfast
stuff cleaned up, and the heavy stuff packed away in the truck, Jules and I
leave the arena at 7:45 a.m. for the 160 km ride to Fort Qu'Appelle.
Chef Bruce is still there, moving at a relxed pace harmonious with his tranquil
nature. The wind is blowing
straight out of the SE, as it will all day.
We're taking an alternate route from Bud's map today to avoid going back
on the so-called highway 15. Our
route is 66 km due south, a left turn to go due east for 77 km, then a right
turn to go a further 16 km due south to Fort Qu'Appelle.
160 km with only two turns! Since
the wind's out of the SE, and we're going either south or east all day, we're
going to be facing this wind for a long time.
We
had already decided to give ourselves a bit of a break with a more relaxed pace
today, and indeed the wind forces that upon us. We're averaging a comfortable 20 km/hr into the quartering
headwind. Riding against the wind
is just like riding up a long hill, and vice versa. Just like a tailwind boosts one's speed, the speed of the
headwind detracts from our speed. The
25 km/hr wind takes about 8 km/hr off our comfortable spinning speed, about 10
when it gusts to about 30 km/hr. In
short, it's hard work!
Along
with galley duty goes sweep duty. While
everyone's responsible for themselves on the road, and while people do tend to
ride together in small groups for company and support,
sweeps provide an added bit of insurance, as does Brook leaving later
and following the riders' route in the truck.
On sweep, we want to be able to help anyone who's stuck or needs support
along the way.
Before
long we catch up with Catherine and Herb, pedaling along at their own pace and
seemingly unconcerned about the long journey ahead into the wind.
Their attitude is positive and they're up for the day; we continue on
down the road ahead of them. Several
kilometers later we catch up to Keith and Isabelle, our randonneurs.
They're used to riding for a long time in tough conditions, and
seem content with the outlook for the day; we continue on down the road ahead of
them too.
About
the 20 km point, we catch up with a large group: Kelly, Robert, Craig, Carol, Big
Bruce, Dave, Eric and Néri, just as Brook pulls up and stops to chat and
to let people get some extra gear from the truck. Party over, we all continue on as a large group, soon
encountering Tacia and Jeff who also join our group.
We're now twelve riders together, half our tour group.
Being on sweep, and not wanting an overly tough day today, Jules and I
stick with the group. The company and camaraderie on a windy day is most welcome.
Everyone's
still reasonably fresh and feeling good, and we push south along the highway
through little towns like Govan, Puval and Strasbourg.
We hit Strasbourg at the 50 km mark and decide it's time for our
mid-morning breakfast. For $3.95 we get the #1 Combo: two eggs, four sausages (or
ham or bacon), toast, home fries, bottomless coffee, friendly banter with local
folks, and a little souvenir from the cafe.
What a deal!
Leaving
Strasbourg, we've still got 12 or 15 km to go to the left turn. We're realizing
we've got over 100 km still to go in this headwind, and we start to pull
together as a group. We've got a
few stronger riders like Eric, Craig, Robert, Jules and I who are more than
willing to take turns pulling at the front of the pack to create a sheltering
draft for the rest of the group, yet we've got little paceline experience in the
group to really take advantage of it. The
big holes in the group and the loose and weaving formation means that everyone
is working harder than we really need to be.
For
the next 40 km, I spend a fair amount of time helping people to find a
"sweet spot" to ride in (the lee shelter of someone just in front and
a little to the side in this quartering headwind), to stay tight in the group,
and to try and ride smoothly and straight.
It isn't long before we're moving along as a group between 18 and 20
km/hr, with the stronger riders occasionally rotating the lead positions.
Sometimes I'm pulling at the front, sometimes I'm riding alongside
offering encouragement, and sometimes I'm at the back keeping the group tight.
This is fun, as it always is when part of an interdependent team in which
everyone has a common goal, wants to succeed, and wants everyone else to succeed
too.
Passing
the grain elevator village of Earl Grey, we're struck by the very large and
brightly-painted orange silo with the yellow roof, against the green horizon and
the blue blue sky swept with high feathery cirrus.
Definitely a Kodak moment, causing us to stop for pictures.
At
the 94 km point we're definitely getting tired, it's nearly mid-afternoon, and
we're pulling into Southey, another elevator crossroads big enough to have an
RCMP station and a diner. Again we
stop for food, with some electing inside for hamburgers, buffalo burgers and the
like, and some staying outside and munching on PBJ and bananas.
Back
outside, the wind is still blowing in our faces, we've got 66 km still left to
go, and at our pace, with stops, we're not going to be arriving at camp until
about 7:30 p.m. Dave phones the TDC
1-800 number to leave a message for Brooke that we'll be late, and back on the
road we go. Again we work together
to form as tight a group as we can, to share the pulling at the front, and to
ensure we create as big a shelter as we can for the few people who are starting
to struggle. What a team!
Along
the next stretch of highway, we pass a large auto junkyard.
As Dave comments that we don't see any bicycles in the yard, we see three
very very large dogs - a big Rotweiler, a big Shephard, and a big mutt of some
sort, barking and racing towards the fence and the road.
Our complacency is shattered when we see that the fence is more show than
substance, and two of the dogs do an end run around it and come charging at the
highway looking for their lunch. Fired
by adrenaline, the group picks up speed while we yell at the dogs, but to no
avail. Dave drops back to face
them, bike held up in front like a gladiator, while Jeff and I quickly fall back
to help him. Like most dogs, once
you yell or get off the bike, you become a human instead of something strange
moving down the road, and they back off. It
takes a lot of yelling to get these beasts to back off!
Somewhat scary, and the adrenaline boost it gives us makes it pretty easy
to catch up to the rest of the group a ways down the road by now.
To
make the ride easier, we're looking for songs to sing, telling jokes and
stories, whatever it takes to pass the time.
Kelly's positive spirit is especially welcome on today's ride.
No matter how much we're struggling, she's got a cheery perspective to
add. We're at the 97 count in
"99 bottles of beer on the wall", signing "and if one of those
bottles should happen to fall" when Carol's water bottle decides to bounce
out of it's cage and skitter off along the highway.
I slow and go back to pick it up, turning to find the group is already
several hundred meters down the highway from me.
Doing the quick arithmetic, if they're 300 metres ahead, and I can manage
2 km/hr faster pace than the group is doing, it'll take me 9 minutes to catch
up. Doing 2 km/hr solo into the
wind faster than a pace group is pretty tough, and I'm a tad bagged by the time
I catch up again. No problemo --
just a little challenge to add fun to the day.
Big
Bruce is having a bit of a tough time today.
Bruce is a very tall man with very long legs, riding a very large-framed
bicycle, using a very upright posture. In
short, he catches a lot of wind. I'm
sure it's costing him a lot more calories to do this ride than any of the rest
of us, even when he's in a good draft position.
A few times he loses the draft of the group -- when that happens it's
extremely difficult to get plugged back in.
When he gets dropped by the group, two of us fall back, create a
double-draft echelon, pull him back, and get him plugged back in.
On any given day, some of us are stronger, some are not; and it varies
from day to day. It's guaranteed
that each of us will have at least an off day or more in 55 cycling days.
It's really good to know that we've got a team that will pull together.
Along
the way we take several stops to fertilize the local grasses, munch on bananas
and rest our behinds. Today's toll
is multi-faceted. Our long time on
the road creates mental challenge, especially when we're trying to stay as a
tight group to battle the wind. The
pace isn't arduous, yet the simple fact of hour after hour after hour takes it's
toll. For some of us, the very long
time on the bicycle seat is becoming the toughest part of the ride.
There simply isn't a "sweet spot" left unbruised to sit on.
As
if the distance, wind and bruised behinds aren't enough, we now run into long
stretches of Saskatchewan's infamous under-maintained highways again.
Stretches of gravel interspersed with stretches of broken pavement, going
on for 10 km or more. This we don't
need. Once again, however, we
remind ourselves that:
1.
It isn't raining.
2. It isn't lightning.
3. It isn't hailing.
4. It isn't cold.
5. The traffic is very light.
6. We aren't at work.
And,
I remind myself constantly, I'm on a bicycle crossing Canada and not walking
with a cane! Life is pretty good,
and today's challenge will be met and we'll be stronger for the next challenge!
At
last! We reach Lipton, the final
turn for the 16 km run south to Fort Qu'Appelle.
Some of us are out of liquid and stop at a small store, while the rest of
the group continues at an even slower pace.
A half-litre of Mountain Dew goes down in one gulp, along with a
chocolate bar. Now I'm ready to
roll! We catch up with the
rest of the group after a few kilometers.
We are blessed by a long and fast downgrade into the Qu'Appelle River valley and Fort Qu'Appelle itself, and by a very short route to an easily-found campground. There's the truck, and there's the rest of our group, applauding our arrival. By now it's a tradition that those already in camp keep an eye out for those arriving, shout "Bikers in!", and everyone applauds the arrivees.
Once
again, the toll of the day exerts itself. I'm
not capable of talking to anyone right now, especially after a group hug and
cheer. I'm emotionally and
physically drained. We've been on
the road for nearly 12 hours, 8 hr 36 min of it on the saddle.
It's all I can do to set up my tent, have a quick shower, gather my
laundry together for tomorrow, and join the others for dinner.
Not
long after, Chef Bruce arrives to our applause, and then Keith and Isabelle, and
then Herb and Catherine in the dark, with their lights on. It's after 9 p.m. and the sun has set, but everyone's in and
safe, if tired and hungry.
Now
I'm fed, clean, warm and dry, sitting on the beach watching the clouds after
sunset. Today was quite an
experience. The mental and physical
challenge, our stronger and interdependent team pulling together, the release and
relief of getting into camp, and now, savouring the accomplishment of the day.
We are crossing Canada by bicycle. Some
days are good, some days hurt. We're
doing it a hundred and then some kilometers each day.
The days past are starting to blur, as is today. Some days we do it a
kilometer at a time. Sometimes a pedal
stroke at a time. In this manner
we've traveled about 2,087 km from Vancouver to here, and I'm well over 5,000
km for this season. What a life!
Rest
Day in Fort Qu'Appelle (Day 20: July 18, 2000)
It
rained and rained and rained last night -- so people tell me.
I slept deeply last night, and didn't wake up until 7:30 a.m. and only
then out of necessity. The TDC group a day ahead of us is just heading out on the road for
the day, into the rain. I wish them well, and gladly crawl back into my
sleeping bag. By 8:00 a.m. the rain had lessened to drizzle and it was time
to get up, do the morning things, and then gather laundry and head into town
with Jules to do laundry and get some breakfast.
After
getting our laundry cooking, we go next door to a coffee shop where John, Karin,
Karl and Craig are already enjoying hot coffee and cinnamon buns.
Craig has just completed Bud's Tour du Pacific, a segmented piece of the
Tour du Canada, and will be joining us from Fort Qu'Appelle to Marathon, ON.
It's good to have another rider join us, and nice for Jules, Karin and me
to have our galley crew up to full complement again.
As
I finish packing up my laundry, it seems like everyone else arrives to do
theirs. Good thing it's a very large laundromat! After laundry and breakfast, a trip to the hardware store
yields a few things including a cheap backpack to make trips into town easier.
I also overhear on the radio news in the store that there was tornado
activity last night in Guelph and Hamilton.
Not nice! Must call home!
Then I join Jeff, Tacia and Dave in the Academy of Learning, a local
computer and business storefront college where they offer us use of their
computers to gain email and internet access.
Which is where I am right now, typing this very sentence.
The
weather has broken: puffy clouds, gentle prevailing wind, sun breaking through,
and warm -- the rest of the day will be nice indeed. I've got some chores to do, including bike cleaning,
inspection and maintenance; time to rotate the back tire off to become a spare.
It's got over 2,000 km on it now. I'd
expected it to last about 2,500 km, but the rougher-then-expected roads are
taking their toll, and it's getting pretty slick and thin.
It's also got a good collection of glass cuts as well as thread bruises from
sharp gravel. Changing it will give
me better protection against flats, which is good insurance I think.
Apart
from that, the rest of the day will be spent reading and
generally lounging around. Tomorrow
we're on the road again, our last stretch in Saskatchewan as we roll to Spy
Hill, just inside the Manitoba border. Today
is a rest day; once I email this out, I'm going to rest.
Riding
Day's high: Great
sleep last night; tremendous team spirit in face of adversity.
Riding
Day's low: 8
hours and 36 minutes on the saddle -- look up "pain in the ass" in the
dictionary and you'll find a picture of my bicycle seat.
Daily
Stats (for the riding day):
Weather: 1C at dawn, about
22C mid-day; mostly clear; wind from SE at 25 km/hr, gusting to about 30 km/hr.
Official
distance: 159 km
Distance actually cycled:
162.7 km Avg
speed on road: 18.8 km/hr
Total
distance cycled to date:
2087.5 km
PBJs
consumed to date: 33
Bananas consumed to date: 65
...alan
Echo Lake Campground,
Fort Qu'Appelle, Saskatchewan
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