And as it ends, so it begins….

I am home. The trip completed. The adventure realized. The experience lived.

The journey continues.

I have to say, this adventure upon which I embarked 30 days ago will never be more than one sharp curve away from me. I will forever be comparing a great set of Ontario or Quebec twisties with those that I danced in Alberta and British Columbia.

I will always be transported back to Golden, BC, as I watch a sunrise sparkle on the calm waters of a forested lake.

The sound of a rushing creek will bring me right back to the serenity of the Cottonwood Recreation site on the Duffey Lake Road outside of Lillooet, BC.

And riding through the Laurentians will always cause me to yearn for the majesty of the Canadian Rockies.
I consider each of these to be a blessing. For the memories that will be evoked are something that I am privileged to have, and to relive, over and over again.

The trip home was accomplished relatively quickly. I left Jasper, Alberta on Friday morning and was home in Ottawa very early (0300) on Wednesday morning. I did take some time to stop and smell the roses, as it were, however.

I have tried to give detail to some of those spots – sites – vistas that caused me pause to enjoy and absorb. One of those that I am fortunate to have taken the time to explore was the Alberta Badlands in Drumheller, AB. Drumheller was my first stop on my way home after leaving Jasper – my older brother strongly suggested that I take the time to check it out, and like most little brothers, I trust my older bro’s advice.
He has yet to steer me wrong. The Badlands are an almost surreal, straight-out-of-the-movies landscape of truly hard, dusty, desolate and breathtakingly beautiful landscape. I can certainly understand the draw – the lure that Drumheller retains to this day on that specific kind of lone, vagabond, cowboy-type of traveler. A testament to this observation was the sheer number of other riders in the area, traveling the old ‘Dinosaur Trail’, retracing the paths and roads ridden by their cowboy brethren of a time long past, yet still so near. I swear you can still hear the sound of galloping hooves coming from that rising dust trail just off to your right….

Drumheller is a place full of ghosts. Full of history. Full of a childlike sense of wonder and awe. Hell, there are dinosaurs here! And cattle rustlers. Horse Thief canyon tells that tale.

I did not take the time to check out the Royal Tyrell Museum which houses one of the worlds largest displays of dinosaurs – just one more stop for my next trip out west – but I encourage you to check out the link found HERE to learn more about Canada’s dinosaur past and the incredible displays housed within.
I have linked to my Drumheller pics in the post just prior to this one – no need to link again. I just thought that Drumheller deserved to be shared a little more in depth with you.

From Drumheller I rode on through to Regina and spent Saturday night there. In the morning I decided that I wanted to try to get to Ontario by Sunday evening, so I rode pretty hard through to Kenora. I stopped near the Manitoba / Ontario border and took a couple of pictures of the canola fields – bright yellow flowers for as far as the eye can see – and then again just inside the Ontario border to get a snap of a yet another beautiful sunset. I should mention that during the last 20 kms of the TransCanada in Manitoba, before entering Ontario, I must have seen at least 11 deer. It was unbelievable how many of them were standing in the ditches, or up on the rises on either side of the highway. You can bet I adjusted my speed and notched my ‘alert’ level up.

This heightened level of alertness served me well. I saw yet another black bear and two moose before deciding that it was just plain foolish to continue riding in this part on Northern Ontario at this time of the evening / night. I pulled into Kenora, got a room and called it a day.

The next morning I hopped back in the saddle, knowing it was going to be another long one, and set out to ride.

I finally called it a day in Marathon after seeing another abundance of wildlife that is not only beautiful, but far too menacing for a man on a motorcycle. Another black bear, 2 more moose and more deer than Gary Larson ever drew in his incredibly intelligent commentary on the human condition, the Far Side.

I guess the name of the town inspired me for the last leg of my journey. I left Marathon on Tuesday morning, and after 17 hours in the saddle I crawled into my own bed here in Ottawa at 0300 on Wednesday morning.
And it felt good to be home. To sleep in my own bed. To awake with no destination to travel towards. To remember.

There are more stories to come from this adventure of mine – I have not yet covered it all, and I will attend to that as time, and mood, permit. I think I will spend the next little while just letting it all settle, and sharing stories with family, friends and co-workers. I am certain that each time I speak of this trip, and the 13,000+ kms that I covered, I will remember new things to add to future blog posts. One thing that I already know that I will eventually get around to will be a sort of ‘best of’, offering tips, advice and shared experiences to future vagabond adventure riders. I learned quite a lot about long-distance traveling recently – as one of my trip advisors told me that I would.

For now, I would like to thank a few specific individuals for their assistance – advice – input and friendship:

Dusty Boots – while I could have done this trip without you, it would not have been nearly the same, nor nearly as incredible. The time that you took to put together maps, recommend gear, point me to campgrounds, advise on routes to avoid, and more importantly on routes that were ‘must ride’ – was time well spent my friend. The success and enjoyment – even fulfillment – that I have come away with are largely gifts given freely by you, to me. So thank you, good sir. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate all that you did.

DrMucker, Scotty-004, Pathfinder and the rest of the gang from the Vancouver 056 – thank you for a wonderful meal, great conversation, and making an outta-towner feel like he was right at home.

Loki, Dirtymech and the crew from the Calgary 022 – the ride that you took me on to Braggs Creek was a fantastic introduction to what I was to come to experience throughout my adventure – great roads, incredible scenery, and truly wonderful people. Thank you all once again.

Sophia – I know I have already said it, but I have to say it again - thank you so much for putting me up – and putting up with me for my week in Vancouver. You were an amazing host and a great tour-guide – as well as wonderful company. I am grateful.

To the crew from the Ottawa 011 who offered travel suggestions, advice, encouragement, and who faithfully followed my blog – including RoadDawg and brian2tall – thanks guys. It meant a lot to know that you guys were enjoying the trip as well.

Stickman – thanks for joining me from Sault Ste. Marie to Calgary, as well as for your hospitality. I hope that you enjoy the boots brother.

I am certain to have missed a few names, and I apologize for that. Please just know that I truly did, and do, appreciate all that everyone has done to help make this dream a reality for me.

Before I sign off, I did take the time to put together a couple of slide-shows that I uploaded to YouTube. I have given the links to these, as well as the remaining pictures from the journey home, below.

Regina to Ottawa pictures HERE.
Slideshow #1 – If God Made You HERE.
Slideshow #2 – The Meeting HERE.

There is more to come, for as I indicated in the title – the journey continues. So take a break. Stretch your legs. Shake some of the highway out of your bones, and the road-dust from your hair.

Just be ready to ride again at a moments notice.

Ride safe, brothers and sisters. But RIDE!

Shed a tear: Leaving the Rockies

 

You know, even spending the vast majority of this trip riding my heavily laden motorcycle in the rain, in full rain gear and generally poor visibility, was not enough to dampen my mood; my smile; my spirit.

That changed a little on Friday morning. In the bright sunshine. In the most beautiful place I have ever rested my soul.

I can honestly tell you that I felt a profound sadness while watching the Rocky Mountains grow smaller in my rear-view mirrors.

I shed a tear leaving Jasper Alberta.

Leaving, sadly.

It felt like I had found my life partner – my mate – my lover.

Only to have her wrenched away from me by duty and obligation.

For the first time in almost 6 years I wanted to say ‘screw it all – I am going to do this……’

Fortunately, the old Joe no longer has the power that he once had and was not able to win over the Joe that embarked on this personal quest.

The idea of staying out west, while romantic, novel and adventurous – never really took hold. This trip was about finding something. I had no real idea what that might be prior to straddling the saddle on May 31 and heading to North Bay on the first leg of the journey.

I have a clearer idea now. Clear enough that I was able to continue to do that which I have been doing quite well for quite some time.

The next right thing. And for me, that meant completing the journey. And of course, heading home.

Saying that, and knowing it – did not make it any easier. At least, not until I had some time to think about it. And about what I have found.

So what did I find, you may ask. Well, it is not easily put to words. And some of it is just for me. But I can say that I found a stronger connection. I found a deeper peace. I found some untapped resources within myself.

I found a better understanding of who, and why I am.

I found love. A very real, very tangible love for all that has been given to me, and to us.

I also found that I have something important that I have to say. And I will say it when I get home.

There may not be much more to write about this trip of mine. I am in Regina, Saskatchewan as I write this. Friday saw me ride from Jasper to Drumheller, Alberta, where I took the time to see the sites and take, yes, lots of pictures.

Yesterday, I left Drumheller and rode all the way to Regina. A couple more pictures, but lets face it – the ‘epic’ part of my motorcycle adventure is over. I will take some pictures of the lake head and environs at Superior, weather providing, and post those when I get home, but unless something truly noteworthy happens, this is likely my last entry from the road.

I have been trying to get back to Ottawa for Tuesday morning in order to be somewhere, with someone, but I don’t know if I will be able to make it before Wednesday. It certainly would not serve for me to rush. For that is when mistakes happen. And in motorcycle speak, mistakes are generally not forgiven.

So, I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you, fellow travellers, for riding along as I rode and wrote. Knowing that someone is reading has certainly helped inspire me to write. I have a ton of notes that did not make it into the blog, but I think that is because something else is growing from this journey of mine. And of ours.

Does anyone know a publisher. Heheheheh.

Link to the pictures from Jasper to Drumheller is HERE.

Drumheller to Regina can be found HERE.

Be good to yourselves. And be good to others.

It matters.

Peace.

Now, These are Mountains!

 

The Cascades were spectacular. The Coastal mountains – amazing. I found myself staring with a sense of wonder about all that was around me on more occasions than I can count. The beauty that I found myself immersed in was beyond my own ability to imagine as recently as 3 weeks ago.

And then, yesterday, I began the journey from Golden, BC to Jasper, AB.

I may never be the same again.

Golden is a beautiful place. Nestled in the Rocky Mountain Trench and surrounded by the Robson Valley, the Columbia Valley and the East Kootenay Valley, it is a small community that realizes it is a jewel, yet does not go out of it’s way to advertise that fact. Still a peaceful spot, it is a vagabond-campers paradise – largely due to the number of free, BC Hydro and Forestry Services sponsored campsites. Well maintained and frequented only by hardy, back-country style campers, these spots are generally virtually unpopulated. I never had more than 2 other campers in any of the BC Hydro sites that I used.

Vagabond Paradise

I really was in no hurry to leave this little spot in Golden, BC. The weather was the nicest I have experienced thus far, and the setting could not be more peaceful. Add to that the fact that there was a pretty major rockslide just 12 kilometres to the east of Golden that had closed the TransCanada in both directions and it was becoming easy to convince myself to just settle in for another day. Or two.

But like any mistress, the open road calls. And a man’s gotta’ answer, right?

I took my time packing up my site, as always being sure to leave no trace that I had ever visited, and made my way to the local Tim Horton’s for a pre-ride coffee. By the time I was ready to go, a group of riders coming in from Texas and on their way to Alaska for the D2D Rally informed me that the highway was open once again, with the east lanes still closed and buried in debris and traffic diverted to the west bound lanes for travel in both directions.

I headed out, sans-raingear and full of good spirit to enjoy a day of riding in the sunshine. And what a day it was.

I started this post with a commentary on some of the mountain ranges that I have travelled and enjoyed.

Yesterday I began to enter the Rockies – I mean, really enter the Rockies – for the first time.

Words like spectacular – gorgeous – amazing – awe inspiring – god-given – all of these try to give description to the grandeur that is the Canadian Rocky Mountains. And all fall short.

You really do have to see them to believe it.

I rode from Golden on through Kicking Horse Pass and up through the Rockies to Lake Louise. The scenes that I was given have been captured, as best I could, on still and GoPro footage. The stills are linked below. The GoPro footage will be up sometime in mid-July and I will link to it then. The video footage is definitely worth a watch.

From Lake Louise I decided to toss convention to the side (like I have ever adhered to convention) and opted to take a 234 kilometre side trip up to Jasper. Which is where I sit as I type this.

I may never leave Jasper.

I could live in the bush. Eat berries and nuts. Adopt a mountain goat for company.

Mountain goats on the way to Jasper.

Okay. Maybe not. My older brother pointed out that the aforementioned diet would leave me being a tasty bear-munchie.

It sure would be easy to stay though. At least until the snow flies. And then,….

On my way from Lake Louise to Jasper, I stopped for fuel at Saskatchewan Crossing ($1.75/litre) and met another long-distance traveller. Also named Joe, this fella is from Titusville Florida and is doing the southern most to northern most ride. He started out at the Florida Keys, mile marker 0 – and is riding all the way to Alaska.

We decided to ride together from Saskatchewan Crossing to Jasper, and shared a campsite at Whistlers in Jasper National Park. Joe worked as a subcontractor for NASA for 30 odd years and is enjoying his retirement on a BMW RS1200 – travelling long distance in style.

Very similar in riding style and pace, we got along just fine, and it was nice to share another portion of this epic journey with yet another vagabond rider.

So now, it is time for me to prepare to leave Jasper. I think I will extend my stay long enough to ride the gondola to the top of the mountain, then build up my resolve and hit the road. Sadly, that means that I am leaving the Rockies today.

I am certain of 2 things. One, that I will return to this mountain paradise again quite soon – maybe even next year. And two – that my entire adventure will take place here.

In the Canadian Rocky Mountains of Alberta.

Paradise Found.

Scenes from Golden to Jasper, including the Icefields Parkway, are located HERE.

From good to Amazing - Merritt to Lumby to Golden, BC

The rain continued to fall as I was packing up the bike preparing to leave Merritt on Tuesday morning. Although that had been enough to keep me there an extra day already, I could not justify staying stationary any longer. Merritt is pretty – but it just doesn’t have enough to see and explore to occupy another day. The East Indian proprietor of the little motel that I stayed at almost appeared sad to see me leave. As though he had not had a guest stay an extra night in a long time. Not sure why, but that kind of made me feel his loneliness. I thanked the gentleman, loaded up, and hit the road.
Within 20 minutes, as I cruised comfortably down highway 5A toward Princeton, the skies began to clear, and my smile began to broaden. In contrast, I found my speed began to slow. The scenery just looked so much more vibrant, alive and inviting in the sunlight. I felt much like I imagine a butterfly might feel as it emerges from it’s cocoon – taking in the wonder of the world that it has been born into. 
Natural Wonder.
I did not get too far along highway 5 before I found myself once again stopping to snap some pictures. I was gifted with one of the most incredible sights I have ever seen in my life a little ways after my first photo-stop.  I spotted a baby deer, or fawn, standing on a rise in a pasture and immediately pulled to the side to ready my camera. I snapped off one picture of the lone fawn, and then saw two siblings come bounding into the frame. I was mesmerized with this display of natures innocence and beauty, staring in wonder as these three little children of the animal kingdom engaged in the favourite game of all species of young – chase! I came out of my reverie just in time to snap off one picture of these playful kids, seen below.
Kids at play.
Riding on a natural high, and absolutely at peace with the world, I began, for the first time during my trip, to feel that which I believe I had been seeking since I began planning this adventure 9 months ago.
I am a part of something magical. Something wonderful and beyond the ability of my human mind to express. Connected and alive. I am sitting in a McDonalds restaurant in Golden, BC as I write this, looking out the window at the fluffy white seeds riding the breeze against a mind-slowing backdrop of the Rocky mountains, and I feel the exact same thing.
I hope and pray that I never lose this newfound ability to connect. Or, if not new found, at the very least newly realized.
I arrived in Princeton a short and enjoyable while after taking the above pictures, and decided that it was time for a coffee and a bite to eat. Actually, I think it is more accurate to say that it was decided, not so much that I decided, however…..
I pulled up to a run-down, almost gone-to-seed tire shop and asked the fellow who was lounging in an Adirondack chair in the middle of the parking lot where I might get a bite to eat.
“You could try the place right there” he said as he pointed to Thomasina’s on the corner.
Well,…..
When is a grilled cheese sandwich not just a grilled cheese sandwich?
When it is made at Thomasina's in Princeton, BC.
The bread that I enjoyed was baked fresh that morning - a specialty of the owner/ cook / baker, it is a hearty, wholesome and flavour rich blend of corn meal, flax, oats, whole wheat, rye and a touch of molasses.
The melting cheese that was dripping from the edges was a smoked apple blend that made my taste buds sing!
Served beside a delicious little salad with a light vinaigrette, and accompanied by a rich dark coffee brought to my table in a press, I could not help but feel content. At ease. Happy. All of these and more. Just the way comfort food should make you feel.
Comfort food at its finest.
I finished my wonderfully rich coffee alongside a delicious Irish soda bread, made from 2 ancient grains known as spelt and emmer. Slightly warmed and patted with butter, this was the perfect end to a delightful dining experience.
Jerome and Thomasina, your wonderful little restaurant and superb menu are the things of great and fond memories. You can be sure that I will one day return - and that I will sing your praise. Well done folks.
Worthy of praise.
I rode the old Hedley road out of Princeton – yet another magnificent motorcycle road, and stopped at a curio shop in Hedley where the owner felt obliged to tell me that the store was for sale if I was interested. Ah, if only….
I followed highway 3 back into Keremeos and the Okanagan Valley, the one area that I saw the sun during my ride west from the Rockies to the Cascades, and was once again blessed with beautiful riding conditions. The ride continued on up to Penticton, Summerland, Peachland, West Kelowna, and finally into Lumby.
Roads of note on this stretch are the Eastside road in Penticton which follows the eastern shore of Skaha lake – gorgeous scenery and really nice twisties with a low speed limit of 50 km, allowing the rider to really enjoy the area; the old Westside Road that follows the western shore of Okanagan Lake from West Kelowna up to highway 97 in Vernon – ranks right up there with the best of them, full of very challenging twisties and sudden drops and rises, it is another amazing motorcycle route;
I arrived in Lumby exhausted – it had somehow taken me almost 9 hours to travel a little more than 400 kilometers. Not sure how that happened. Well, maybe…………
I stayed the night in another motel – it was too dark to ride any further seeking a BC Hydro recreation site – and went right to bed.
Getting up yesterday morning, I packed up and left the motel a little late – almost 11:00. I went to find breakfast, and discovered Alice’s Restaurant – a ‘biker friendly’ spot with a good, quick breakfast, strong coffee and a couple of Harley’s in the lot. I struck up a conversation with a fellow rider who proceeded to give me some sage advice about the roads I would be encountering from Lumby to Golden, and we shared riding stories for a bit. After my coffee, preparing to mount up and hit the road, ‘Stinky’ (his self-admitted nickname) offered to lead me out as far as Cherryville. Stinky offered to give me a chunk of BC hash when we stopped to go our own way – that made me smile too. Just the way of the people out here – if they have it, it is yours. I thanked Stinky for the offer, assuring him that there was a time when, but I had since cleaned up and was approaching 6 years. Stinky reached out his hand and gave mine a firm shake. “Congratulations” he said, “I been thinking about doin’ that".”
Sometimes it really is the thought that counts. Pleased to have met you Stinky.
I got some good GoPro footage of the ride and will post it sometime after I get home.
Highway 6, from Lumby to highway 23 at Nakusp is another wonderful ride – lots of pictures and GoPro video to come. I rode on another ferry, always enjoyable, and continued on Revelstoke, crossing on yet another ferry, and finally made my way into Golden BC at about 8:30 last night. I stopped at the Tim Horton’s and got directions to the Cedar Lake campground, rode in and set my camp up in record time, and even had time to scavenge enough wood for a roaring fire before full dark had finally set in.
Oh – I forgot to mention that I saw my first black bear on highway 23 just before the Galena Bay ferry at the Kaslo turnoff. No pictures, but wow, what a sight.
I would love to be able to describe to you what the ride on the TransCanada highway, from Revelstoke to Golden was like, but I just don’t think that my words could do it justice. It is said that the Sami people had over 100 words to describe snow. I cannot imagine their description of the beauty that I have witnessed.
Riding through the Rockies last evening, all I could think to myself was ‘thank you god.’
I encourage any who would say that there is nothing else out there – nothing beyond ourselves – to take this ride. And see what I have seen.
Well, I have been in this McDonald’s for going on 2 hours now. It is almost 10:30 and I still have to return to Cedar Lake to pack up my camp.
There was a major rock slide in Golden this morning, closing the TransCanada. Looks like it is time for yet another route change.
Rockslide
Nothing if not flexible,….
My apologies for the super-long post – there was a lot to cover, and I actually feel like I cheated you out of the Rockies run from Revelstoke to Golden. Ah well, a reason for you to ride, maybe…..
2 days of pictures can be seen HERE. …..
….and HERE.
Thanks for riding along so far. More to come.
Peace.

A Passage in Time

 

When I woke this morning it took all of 10 minutes for me to decide that I was going to stay another night in Merritt.

The motel that I am at is costing me $55 per night. Provincial camp grounds can be as much as $42. The weather man is calling for – yes – cold and rain all day. I will let you do the math.

I went down to the office – paid for another night and gave the owner the requested $6 to do my laundry for me.

That set me free for the day. So. What to do.

A quick glance back over some of the route and sights advice that another rider, Dusty Boots, had given me allowed me to realize that I had missed something yesterday.

It seems that the small town of Hope, BC actually has some real history behind it. As well as some Hollywood history.

In the early 1900’s, in a quest to keep American railroad companies from monopolizing a Canadian raw materials and minerals market, a bold engineering feat saw the creation of the Kettle Valley Railway Line – and with it, the Othello Tunnels. Abandoned decades later, the old KVR now stands as part of the Trans Canada Trail through this part of Western Canada / Southern BC. There is a lot of written material about this incredible project – this article here is the most well written that I have read.

What the article cannot convey to you, the reader, is the almost prehistoric-like setting that the Othello Tunnels rest in. The trees are covered in a fur-like moss from root to branch-tip. The ferns grow to incredible heights, and the lush green foliage is alive with the sounds of birds and small creatures, their animated sounds at times muted by the roar of the Coquihalla River as it smashes it’s way through the Coquihalla gorge and canyons. I have never seen such vibrant greens in any forest that I have walked – this place is lost in time, a virtual boreal rainforest where one almost expects to hear the screech of a velociraptor, or the roar of a T-Rex.

It is a place that we have not yet destroyed. More, it is a place that we have come to admire – yearn for and bask in. A place of energies. And of healing. Of mysteries and mysticism. And stories. Ah, the stories.

Another of these being, of course that this is also the location for most of the filming of the first Rambo movie, titled First Blood. Many films have been shot on location in Hope over the years, but First Blood has given the town it’s spot on the map, and it’s pet name – RamboTown.

I wanted to walk the original steel bridge from the beginning of the movie, where the sheriff (Brian Dennehy) drops John Rambo off and encourages him to keep on walking – but that piece of movie history is gone. Demolished in 2011, it has been replaced by a span of no character, and no charm.

I took a picture of the original pilings – all that remain of Rambo’s bridge.

All that remains of Rambo Bridge.

The above mentioned Othello Tunnels also have a Rambo tie-in. It was on the sheer face of tunnel number 2 that Rambo is seen clinging for his life as the camera does a long, slow pan of the gorge and it’s deadly resident, the Coquihalla River far below. This two-fold piece of history has made the Othello Tunnels a bit of a tourist hot-spot. People come to relive John Rambo’s heroics, though only viacriously – and leave having learned about the real life heroics of engineer Andrew McCulloch.

Once again – lives enriched.

My trip to and from Hope necessitated travelling through the Cascade Mountains once again. The highest elevation on the Merritt to Hope route is at the Coquihalla Summit – 4081 feet. In the pouring rain, at 6 degrees – it was frigid. It was also breathtaking. The clouds were surrounding me and I swear I could smell them – I was reminded of a childhood thought – that heaven must smell like clouds. I now know what clouds smell like. And maybe heaven too.

Scientists are predicting an astral event over the next few days. Apparently there is to be an incredible display of hydrogen fusion in a star 7 light-years away from earth. The heat rays produced by this nuclear event are predicted to cause a warming of the areas that I am about to travel through.

Here comes the sun.

Todays pictures – some of them are truly wonderful – can be seen here.

Put away the rain gear for a couple of days. Put on your denims and your leather vest.

Things are about to be turned up a notch.

More than words can say….

 

I believe I may be rapidly becoming the most experienced long-distance wet-weather traveller known to man. It just doesn’t seem to want to let up.

Riding from Vancouver to Squamish, a distance of about 70 kms, normally takes about an hour – or so I am told. In the pouring rain, low clouds and heavy fog, it took almost twice that.

*Sigh*

Slow riding to Squamish.

The route is Highway 99. Known as the Sea to Sky Highway, it is renowned amongst auto and motorcycle travelers alike as being a ‘must drive’ highway.

Well, I can say that I have ridden it on a motorcycle. And that I have seen some of it’s beauty. Sensed a portion of it’s power and splendour.

Enough to know that I will return to this land of the motorcyclists’ Xanadu to experience her in all of her radiant beauty. For now, I will make do with what she has deigned to reveal to me.

I stopped at a small restaurant in Pemberton, had a coffee and convinced myself that there was no real reason NOT to keep going. So off I went again. I barely even saw any of Whistler – the clouds were that low and thick. I really wanted to ride the gondola up to Blackcomb, but it truly would have been a waste of time and money. That is, if it was even in operation. The weather was not tourist friendly, so it would not have surprised me to see it closed.

There really was no point in stopping yet. It was early in the afternoon, and the weather would have kept me inside of a motel room. So on I went.

Pemberton. Around the top of Lillooet lake. Past Joffre lakes PP. And along Duffey Lake on a section of Hwy 99 known as the Duffey Lake road.

And wouldn’t you know it. As I am riding on what is widely considered one of British Columbia’s best motorcycle roads, the skies began to clear. The fog to lift, and the clouds to recede to more lofty heights.

I was tired from all of the hyper-focus necessary during the ride to this point. But I was on the Duffey Lake road. And I could see all of it. The asphalt was even drying.

I smiled as a mischievous 6 year-old boy might when a particularly dastardly plan is forming.

Then I opened her up and rode the Duffey.

I did not get very far along her length before I noticed a sign for a user-maintained campground known as Cottonwood Recreation site. Feeling much better about the day, and somewhat revitalized, I decided to pull in and stake out a spot to pitch my tent and get back to vagabonding it. A beautiful little campground right along the banks of a furiously rushing river, I picked a spot right on the rivers edge and set-up my camp.

I then hopped back on my bike, now having time to ride the length of the Duffey Lake road all the way into Lillooet for snacks and fuel.

Wow! What a road. Everything I have been told about her is true.

It is 24 kilometers from Cottonwood Campground to Lillooet. All 24 of them are amazing. Steep grades; wicked twisties; crazy-tight switchbacks – this stretch of the Duffey has it all. And riding her in reverse, back to the campground, is an entirely different, and every bit as challenging ride.

I made it back to camp just as full dark was setting in. Only one other site in the entire campground was occupied – and as good fortune would have it the campers had a 3/4 ton Dodge pickup absolutely loaded to the hilt with nice, dry firewood. A quick introduction and an offer to buy some wood saw me in front of a roaring campfire of my own in no time – and as I am learning is the norm out here – the campers refused to accept any money from me.

Doing it right.

Beautiful campground for the night.A river runs through it.

This morning I awoke to the sound of the river. And rain. So I tucked deeper into my sleeping bag and hit the ‘snooze’ button in my brain.

I arose a couple of hours later to some light cloud cover – and no rain. Packing up my site – and being sure I left absolutely no trace of having been there – took about an hour. I bid farewell to my fellow campers and hit the road. And it was dry.

Of course, that meant that I had to ride the full length of the Duffey again. By the time I headed on from Lillooet I had travelled the length of the Duffey Lake road 3 times. From Cottonwood to Lillooet 5 times. It is not enough, I assure you.

I stopped in Lillooet on my final pass through and gave dad a call. Father’s Day and all.

I had an amazing day of riding today. From Lillooet to Hope on the Trans Canada – through the Fraser canyon, the tunnels – all of it. What an incredible road to ride. Once in Hope, I stopped at the same McDonalds that I stopped at on my way to Vancouver – exactly 7 days ago – for a coffee. And then turned around and travelled the same route in reverse that I had just travelled.

A couple of spots along the way to check out are Hells Gate – a spot where the mighty Fraser river narrows to some 33 metres and crashes through like a demon; and the Alexandra Bridge – a holdover from the mid-1800’s along the original Cariboo Wagon Road.

I rode the TransCanada all the way back to highway 8, at Spences Bridge, and then turned south to Merritt.

I have to say, little highway 8 is no slouch in the contest of great motorcycle roads either. I was fortunate to have another rider on the road in front of me – he on a nimble Triumph Tiger Cross-Country – so even though I had never set rubber on her asphalt before today, using the Triumph as my beacon I was able to blast down her length at almost breakneck speeds. A few of the corners almost took me by surprise – what we sometimes refer to as ‘puckering’ – but she gave quarter and asked nothing of me more than respect.

Yet one more road for me to ride again one day.

If it has not become obvious yet – I can no longer hold true to my earlier statements about highway 3A being the best motorcycle road in Canada. There are just too many absolutely amazing roads to ride out here. On any given day weather alone could be the extra point that garners any one road the ‘win’ over another. The Duffey, highway 99, highway 3A, highway 8, the Crowsnest, the TransCanada through the Fraser Valley, The Kaslo - New Denver – Nelson loop – they are all incredible. I want to ride them all again, and I can assure you that I will. For now, I will carry on in my travels – riding my epic motorcycle adventure for all she is worth.

Which is more than words can say.

Two days worth of pictures – from Vancouver to Pemberton to Duffey Lake to Lillooet to Hope to Merritt – can be seen here.

Hold on tight – it’s going to get even better!

Here I go again on my own….

 

Well, today is the first day of the rest of my trip. I am leaving Vancouver and heading up the Sea to Sky highway through Squamish, Whistler and Lillooet – then heading down Hwy 1 (TransCanada) to Hope for a side  trip – turning around and heading back to the Hwy 1 / 8 junction and continuing on to Merritt. I will eventually be going on from Merritt to Princeton and the nheading back in an easterly direction to Penticton, where I plan on heading north again into peach-country and on up into Kelowna.

I don’t know how far I will make it today – it is, of course, pouring rain again and cool. I would really like to take in the sights at Whistler and Blackcomb, but the weather forecast calls for rain right through until at least Thursday.

Another trip will just have to go into the old planning machine, lol.

So, yesterday was a different day altogether. The weather was beautiful – 20 degrees and sunny – which of course meant that a great ride was in order.

Never having been on a motorcycle, Sophia borrowed a helmet from her sister and hopped on the back – and off we went to visit Vancouver Island. We took the ferry from Tsawwassen to Victoria (Schwartz Bay) and then rode the scenic route along the coast before breaking off and heading up to Nanaimo, where we boarded the ferry back to the mainland.

All told it was about a 10 hour day, and it was fantastic. The views were amazing, the ferry rides were very enjoyable, and Sophia turned out to be a pretty darned good passenger.

Sophia took me out for supper afterwards to a popular Vancouver restaurant / bar known as Rogue. The food was great – and other than that one incident where our waitress dropped an entire tray of waters and drinks smack-dab in the middle of our table – the experience was wonderful. I actually went ahead and filled out a comment card commending Mel, our waitress, for keeping her poise and maintaining her cool in a situation that would have found many wait-staff overwhelmed. Well done Mel.

Of course, having an accident like that happen at our table probably worked in Mel’s favor. Sophia and I had already had far too good a day to let anything spoil it, and we found ourselves laughing about it and helping Mel to straighten things up.

After dinner we took one last walk aroung downtown, strolling through Gastown once more – my favourite part of the city – and then called it a night. We had a really interesting conversation with a young couple that we met on the Skytrain while heading back to Burnaby. The young woman was voicing her opinion over the new crime bill, and sounded discouraged that addicted offenders are now going to be facing minimum sentence periods of incarceration.

I, of course, had to toss in my two cents.

I mentioned that addicted offenders still have the opportunity to opt into a Drug Treatment Court program. The young lady gave me a kind of disparaging look, as if to say ‘big deal’ – so I mentioned that it had worked for me, and that after 18 years of crack addiction and 4 years of being on the streets I am now approaching 6 years of being clean and sober.

It was at this point that the young lady began to cry.

A soul overflowing with compassion and the willingness to help, she works part-time at a local Elizabeth Fry Society, and volunteers at the Vancouver community court. She is afraid that offenders who are in conflict with the law due to their addictions are no longer going to be able to get help.

We talked for 20 minutes or so, shared some laughs and some experiences, exchanged hugs and went on about our evenings, and our lives. Maybe just a little more enriched. I know mine is. I thank god that there are people like this young woman who are so passionate about helping people like me. Without them, I would not be writing this. And that my friends, is the god’s honest truth.

Sophia, you were a wonderful host. Thank you so much for putting me up – and putting up with me – for the last 5 days. It has been a true pleasure to have a friend show me around one of our country’s most beautiful cities and I thoroughly enjoyed your company.

And now, it is time once again to pack up my trusty steed and hit the open road. If you don’t hear from me for a couple of days it is only because I am camping in the mountains. And enjoying the hell out of my life.

Between Victoria and Nanaimo

A bunch of pictures from the ferry rides and Victoria are right here.

Ok. The bike is packed.

Let’s ride!

One Day At A Time

 

Well, today was my last ‘take it easy’ day in Vancouver. I did not even roll off the couch until sometime after 10:00am.

Oh yes – let me make sure that point is cleared up. A friend of mine sent me a ‘Quagmire’ – like text this morning alluding to my waking up with Sophia. I am sleeping on the couch.

I guess my wording in previous posts may have left the reader open to the idea that I was sleeping with Sophia, as opposed to merely at Sophia’s.

I assure you – not that you care – but it is important for me to be clear that this is not the case.

So, I got up late, surfed around the ‘net for a while, eventually showered and finally left the apartment at about 1:30 in the afternoon. I brought my rain suit with me –ah-ha, prepared – so of course it did not rain. Actually this afternoon turned out to be one of the nicest that I have experienced thus far.

I rode back downtown – snapped a couple of pics of the local emergency shelters – went to yet another mall searching for an Otterbox for my new phone (to no avail), rode down to the yacht club, and eventually made my way back to New Westminster and went to an AA meeting at a local, privately run treatment facility.

I have not been to a treatment facility meeting in a long, long time. And it was precisely what I needed.

There was one gentleman there who had just completed the in-house program and he is moving out in the morning. There were also two new, younger lads there who had only arrived this afternoon. Tonight was their first meeting at the house. They did not share much. But it did appear that they were listening. And hoping. Hoping that somehow, maybe – this might work for them too.

The ‘old-timers’ who were present – including a gentleman who works the overnights there in the house – did their best to help these new lads feel some hope. Through the sharing of some experience, and some strength.

I am honoured to have been a small part of that. At first seen as a bit of a novelty – a middle-aged guy crossing the country on a motorcycle in search of who-knows-what – I was quickly treated to hand-shakes, questions, suggestions and well wishes. As always, I was once again amazed at how welcomed any newcomer / out-of-towner is made to feel at a good, healthy meeting. And this is definitely a good – even great- meeting.

Thank you once again, my higher power. For doing for me that which I cannot do for myself.

The Salvation Army – DTES

The Yacht Club

New Westminster

Cheers,

My dogs are barking….

Today was a day of laundry. And a day of walking. A lot of walking.
As I type this I am nursing a very sore foot with a recently drained blister. The way it feels right now, tomorrow will not entail much walking. Which, of course, leaves an opportunity for riding. Something I did not do at all today. As a matter of fact, I did not even start my bike today. Something that has not happened since I put her on the road this season.
Sophia and I got up and hit the laundry-mat early this morning – a classic little Chinese laundry run by an elderly couple – him seeming to do everything wrong, and her chattering away in Mandarin, or Cantonese, or I don’t know – it’s all Chinese to me.
We were all done within 90 minutes. A quick trip back to Sophia’s to drop off our newly cleaned garments, and then we were off on an adventure into the down town lower east side – DTES – Gastown and Chinatown. Those who know me well know that I am one of those odd men who actually enjoys shopping. Walking through a crowded, eclectic district full of shops and store-fronts can occupy an entire day for me – and it did so today.
We started out by walking into Chinatown and then onto East Hastings street – the heart of the DTES. We dropped by InSite and spoke with Ashley, the young lady working behind the desk who is the point of contact for the person coming in off the street who has decided to use safely. I congratulated Ashley and her peers and co-workers for the work that they are doing – in the face of some hefty odds – to help save lives.
InSite
I have heard so many different stories, tales and interpretations of what the DTES represents and embodies. Most people have described it to me as a street full of pain and despair; of ruined lives and waiting death; of danger, horror and darkness.
I have a different take on the picture that I saw unfold before and around me.
I saw a community. One that has pulled together and does what it can to support those lost within it. Lost to us. Once within this community, I get the feeling that most ‘individuals’ feel found. Feel part of. Feel like they too, are no longer alone.
The community that I am referring to is, of course, made up entirely of the disenfranchised and the desperate. Addicted and afraid. Sickly and suppurating. Skittish and sketchy.
Those are the terms that we hear – and use – when we are trying to describe what we feel when we walk the DTES.
We forget to describe what we see.
I saw a community of men and women – boys and girls – young and elderly – black, white, aboriginal and native – doing what they can to help each other out. Pulling together to get a brother what he needs; to provide a sister with whatever it is that she is screaming to find; directing a an addict who is dope-sick to the guy who has what he needs. I saw two full length city blocks lined with the wares of gypsy marketers'-  blankets laid out and filled with objects that you and I would toss into the trash. Things we think are no longer useful. Because in our lives, these items no longer serve a purpose.
But in the lives of this struggling, hard-scrabble community, every trinket has value. Every item has a use. Every possession has a price.
The trading was brisk. Almost every blanket had an individual attending to the sales end of the exchange, while several potential buyers jostled with each-other to get that ‘must-have’ item into their own hands in order to begin the bartering banter. Money changed hands at every square. When money was not visible, cupped palms and hushed voices indicated that more illicit forms of payment were being offered.
Sophia and I walked the 6 block length of the DTES without even once being approached by a panhandler. Not one individual tried to sell us anything. No one even asked me for a smoke. As a matter of fact, the only question that I was asked was when an guy with an unlit joint in his mouth asked me if If had a lighter.
There was not a single moment when I felt unsafe. Or uncomfortable. As a matter of fact, there were times during our walk when I noticed that it was I who felt invisible. It is not a nice feeling. To correct that, I made eye contact, and said things like ‘what’s up’ or ‘hey man’ – and found myself acknowledged in return.
A lesson in humility.

Here is a link to an article about a man who also see's more in the DTES than most...

http://www.insidevancouver.ca/2012/01/18/reality-show-gastown-gamble-tells-save-on-meats-story/

We travelled from there on into Gastown. A very hip, chic, artsy part of Vancouver. We walked in and out of so many different shops that I cannot possibly remember the number or the names. And I shopped. And bought stuff. And walked more. And took lots of pictures. And discovered a city that appeals to me as much as any city ever has – and much more than most.
Gastown

I am a visitor here in Vancouver. And I feel at home. What the hell do I do with that?
Pictures from today DTES and Gastown

A new chapter; new friends; a new phone

 

The weather has turned back to cool and rainy. Surprise, surprise.

Ah well. As Steven Wright has pointed out – ‘you can’t have everything – where would you put it?’

I got the call from Carter’s Motorsports at around noon telling me that I could pick up my bike at anytime. This, of course, brought a smile to my face.

Of course, even this experience did not come off without a hitch.

Sophia dropped me off at the shop to pick up my bike. As I was gathering my gear from her car, I absentmindedly placed my GPS and my cell phone on the roof of her car, grabbed my helmet from the trunk, my jacket from the backseat, leaned in to say thank you, snatched my GPS from the roof – and 45 seconds later realized something terrible had happened.

But there was hope, right. Very little traffic had passed. All would be fine. The universe was working with me and all was about to be okay again – all I had to do was walk back up the street, paying attention to where a cellphone might land, and then…..

RRRRRRRrrroorororrororoooooommmmmmm…….a very large truck happened by.

This is the second Blackberry that I have killed in less than 1 year. The first one I lost from my outside vest pocket while riding to Pembroke last July. I had received a phone call before starting out and placed my phone in my vest instead of an inside pocket. Careless.

This time, I left my phone on the roof of a car. Careless.

So, a trip to Future Shop, an hour of my time, and a sweet-talk phone call to Rogers Customer relations allowed me to walk away with a new Nokia Lumia 900 at a very acceptable price.

Acceptable is, of course, relative. And subjective. I admit that it would have been much, much more acceptable to have been responsible in the first place, but, spilled milk and all that,….

After attending to the ramifications of my momentary ineptitude, I scooted off to the Horse Shoe Bay area of North Vancouver for my introduction to the guys – and gal – from the CMC 056 Vancouver chapter.

Of course, this is when the skies were preordained to open up and pour on me. And me, with no rain gear…….can you say lack of focus.

I blame part of that on Sophia. She takes great pleasure in being distracting. In a way that can almost be downright cruel, but I digress. I guess I have to take the brunt of the blame for my own lack of focus.

I finally made it to the Meet and Greet. A little late. A lot wet. And was really well received. 6 members from the 056 were on hand to greet the guy from out of town, and once again I was made to feel like a well known friend who had been away for a while. We went to a little Chinese food joint down the block, shared stories, ate good food, and experienced the camaraderie of like minded people interested in similar things. DrMucker and Scotty-004 are both camera buffs – DrMucker has several GoPro videos on YouTube and has inspired me in the past – likely to do so again, I am sure.

DrMucker, Scotty-004, Pathfinder and the rest of you – thank you very much. I am pleased to have met you – and hope to ride with you on Sunday.

I was not able to stay as long as I would have liked – it was already going on 8:00pm and the rain was not letting up – but I was there long enough to know that I have once again made life-long friends in a city far, far away from home. I cannot overstate what that means to a man like me, who spent so much of his life tossing friendships aside in the pursuit of darker needs.

I continue to learn that my life is beautiful, and that all I need do is remember to keep it simple.

Like taking a motorcycle ride for no reason other than the ride.

Peace.

Chinese Food with 056

Members of the 056

DrMucker

Vancouver. Glorious.

 

I arrived in Vancouver yesterday. Around 3:00pm local time I pulled into a prearranged meeting spot and called my friend Sophia, who had agreed to put me up at her place for a couple of days. I was about to take a few days out of the saddle, and that sounded just fine to me.

Don’t get me wrong. There is nothing I enjoy more than riding my motorcycle. Those who know me, know this to be true. But after 10 days of almost entirely wet riding, I was ready for a break.

The ride from Princeton, BC to Vancouver is one that I am so very happy to have experienced. The route is highway 3, through the Cascade Mountains and EC Manning Provincial Park, on to Hope, BC and onto the TransCanada Highway for the rest of the journey into Vancouver.

The temperatures while riding through the Cascade mountains were the coldest I have ever ridden in. I would not be surprised if it was 4 degrees or less. I actually rode through snow flurries. My hands were freezing, and I frequently dropped my left onto the rear cylinder head of my bikes motor in order to try to get it warm. Not having cruise control, there was nothing I could do for my right hand until I was on one of the ever steepening down-hill grades. Here I would squeeze the clutch with my left and drop my right onto the cylinder head – though not for long. The curves and twisties on this section of highway 3 are as incredible – and potentially deadly – as any found along her length.

I cannot express enough how much fun highway 3 is to ride. I can only imagine what she would be like in  warm sunshine, where the riders’ only focus is the highway and the environs – with no thought of cold, rain, and general discomfort.

I have made a promise to myself that I shall live this experience. Maybe not this time, on this journey. But I will return to the 3. Count on it.

I shot some GoPro footage of the ride from Princeton, into the Cascades and through to Hope and on to Vancouver. I will post this footage on YouTube when I get back home – I cannot commit to taking time out from my trip to render, edit and upload the video before then. I have previewed some of it – and you can feel the ride.

After arriving yesterday my friend Sophia took me to Commercial Drive. The timing was perfect as the Italian Day Festival was going on, and ‘The Drive’ was curb-to-curb people for 20 blocks or more. A penultimate example of Vancouver’s Bohemian flavour / sub-culture. I thoroughly enjoyed the different expressions of ‘me’ that the locals were displaying. There is absolutely no concern of how others might perceive – or what others may think. ‘This is me’ is what it is all about in Vancouver. Which, along with the stunning natural beauty of the area, is what makes Vancouver, Vancouver.

We later walked the waterfront and some of downtown, and I continued to be the tourist, snapping pictures and asking questions. Enjoying the hell out of myself, quite simply.

Vancouver Twilight.

Vancouver water front.

Today, Sophia took me to Stanley Park. Another example of the beauty that is the west coast of Canada. We walked the length of the Lions Gate bridge – my calf muscles are feeling it now, trust me – and was treated to some incredible vantage points to see Vancouver, North Vancouver and the harbour.

The weather today was the nicest that I have experienced thus far - 22 degrees and sunny. And I rode for approximately 20 kilometers. To a local bike shop for an oil change and routine minor maintenance, including an inspection of my chain and sprockets. Oh, and to have my speedometer repaired. It quit working on my ride on the 3A on Saturday. I had run straight into a standing pool of water that had to be at least 8 inches deep and my speedometer quit then and there. Here’s to hoping that it is a quick, simple and inexpensive fix.

Tomorrow morning will see me visiting North Vancouver via Sky Train, and whatever else comes along. Maybe a trip to Gastown. Or China Town.

Tomorrow evening I plan on attending a Meet and Greet with the Vancouver 056 chapter of the CMC. After that, an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting somewhere in Vancouver.

And hopefully, picking my baby up from the shop.

Todays pictures are here.

More from Vancouver tomorrow my faithful travelers.

The best damned motorcycle road in Canada!

Sounds like a bold statement.
Especially from a guy that only got into the saddle last year. A guy who uses the Tatlock road, or the 327 from Tremblant as his reference points.
A guy who rides a cruiser. And took a trip to British Columbia. Oh sure – he’s an expert.
Well, I may not be anything remotely resembling an expert. But I am an avid motorcycle rider. An aficionado, of sorts. Maybe, an enthusiast. A passionate biker. All of the above.
Also a rider who has put just shy of 30,000kms beneath his butt in less than 1 year. Or more correctly – less than 1 full season.
And also, a guy who just rode the 3A from Creston to Kootenay Lake in BC.
On a cruiser. With about 50 kgs of camping gear strapped to his bike.
In the rain. With lots of surface water.
Even in the pouring rain, this was far and away the greatest road I have ever ridden.
Only 62.1 kilometers long, you are guaranteed to feel like it was at least twice that length. The sheer frequency and complexity of the twisties will have you using all of your skill, and I promise you will be air and water-tight as you approach any number of it’s undulating apexes. I had to remind myself to breath on several occasions – and not simply to avoid fogging my shield in the rain.
So there’s my opinion. Then I checked with a group of riders who were also waiting in the queue for the Balfour / Kootenay Lakes Ferry.

Each one of them agreed. There is no other road in BC – home of Canada’s greatest motorcycle roads – to compare with the 3A.
Destination Highways also agrees. Rated #1 in Canada.
But don’t just take my word – or theirs, for that matter. Come on out. Ride the 3A. And then give us your opinion.

So that was the start of my day – riding the 3A from Creston to Kootenay Lake  - and then taking the ferry across to Balfour.
It was here that I began yet another absolutely incredible ride.
Referred to as the Nelson - New Denver – Kaslo loop, this ride was at times even more challenging than the 3A – primarily due to the steep downhill grades and wicked sharp switchbacks.
I headed north after getting off of the ferry at Balfour, BC and rode up to Kaslo. Just prior to the first switchback on the route I noticed a sign out of the corner of my eye indicating a motorcycle campground. Moving too quickly in the rain to make any kind of sudden stop, I rode to the switchback – snapped a couple of pics – and rode back to – yup – Toad Rock Motorcycle Campground. Well and widely known, specifically amongst the motorcycle vagabond rider-types, I could not ride right by and not stop in to say hello. I met the owners – Mary and Grant – as well as one of their closest friends and two of the three camp dogs – and even though I made it clear up front that I was not planning on staying, I was made to feel right at home and one of the family. A hot cup of really strong coffee, and a half-hour of hearty laughter and conversation allowed me to realize that these are good people. Really good people. I just may have to alter my return route in order to stay a night or two at Toad Rock. I know the stories alone will be worth it!


I then continued on through Kaslo, a beautiful little town full of art galleries and artisans shops – and then to New Denver, and finally back down south towards Nelson. I stopped along the way in a little hamlet called Silverton and had a bowl of the very best chicken curry I have ever had, followed by an equally tasty Jamaican beef patty. All in a tiny little bakery-cum-sandwich shop run by a couple from Australia, if my ear for accent was true. The town is so small and remote that there is absolutely no cell service, and the Cup and Saucer Cafe actually offers free WiFi service to its patrons – largely made up of tourists, since the population of the town itself is only 185 people. Just one more noteworthy treasure that I will be sure to revisit, and to recommend to anyone heading this way.
After leaving Silverton it was time for me to buckle down and actually put some distance in my mirrors on the way to Vancouver. I rode long and hard from Castlegar to Princeton– at one point through snow flurries in Paulson Pass – cruising along highway 3 through some of the most stunning scenery to be seen anywhere. Sunlight quite appropriately began breaking through the clouds as I approached Osoyoos, and by the time that I was in the Okanagan Valley the sun was warming my rain-chilled bones. It was short-lived though, as the sun began setting behind the Cascade Mountains about 40 minutes outside of Princeton.
The Okanagan Valley is truly a south-western US step-child. Like a piece of Arizona, or Utah somehow got tossed out of the family and ended up in BC.The climate is very much like the Napa Valley – they even grow peaches here!

So I am now in Princeton, and by tomorrow afternoon I will be in Vancouver. Hopefully the weather will cooperate and I will be able to ride without raingear for a change. I would also like to do some more camping – but honestly – 5 to 11 degrees and rain does not make for enjoyable camping experiences.
A link to all of todays pics is found right here.
See you in Vancouver friends and fellow travelers.

Not Rain, nor sleet, nor cold……

 

Well, the rain and cold continue. But the weather has not been able to keep me completely out of the saddle – just shortened the day’s and kilometers traveled, that’s all. Today saw me covering a mere 450kms. And it was cold. Well, all except for the final 80 kms, which I did after booking into the Ramada in Creston, BC., because the sun had finally come out and I needed to ride in the sunlight to shake off the chill of the rain.

My day started at 0600. I awoke to the sound of rain on my tent, and upon zipping out of my sleeping bag, I discovered that it was also really cold. I checked the temperature on my Grundig portable radio – 5 degrees.

Welcome to Chain Lakes Provincial Park.

Located on the Cowboy Trail on the way out of Calgary and towards BC, the park is not much more than a hilly area of scrub pine, Jacobs ladder, willow shrub and tall grass. Primarily set up for RV use, I pitched my tent in an out of the way corner and snuggled in for the night at about 09:30

This was, believe it or not, my first night in my tent. It set up really quickly and was also simple to take down and pack-up. Thank goodness that it did not rain really hard last night, because I had amateurishly pitched my tent on a small slope. too tired to move it, I crawled into my sleeping bag and spent the night sliding off of my mat, waking up, repositioning and falling back to sleep. Lessons learned, right?

Taken on the Cowboy Trail. Fitting.

 

Vagabond style.

 

Oh. I guess I should back up a bit and tell you about yesterday’s events.

I was picked up at the hotel by the assistant to the Chief of Police and we chatted about my travels so far. I was given a grand tour of the CPS facilities – what a police station! As I mentioned in an earlier post the buildings used to be a Nortel complex, and the gymnasiums, basketball court, weight rooms, dance studio and theatre all remain in place as they were established by Nortel for their employees. The Calgary police officers all enjoy coming into headquarters, I can assure you.

I was introduced to the audience of about 150 people by Chief Hanson, and then proceeded to speak for about an hour. This was followed by another 45 minutes of Q & A, which was really pleasing. The quantity and variety of questions confirmed that I had managed to hold the room. I one day hope to make this sort of thing my main-stay. Like all things though, it is a process and takes time.

After being returned to the hotel i immediately brought my bike to a local service / repair shop known as GW Cycle. Recommended to me by a couple of members from the Calgary 022 CMC, I can say without a doubt that these guys set a new standard for service.

I walked in and explained my problem to an older, British-accent speaking mechanic – describing the strange ‘clanking’ sound and the vibration in my pegs – and he immediately said “sounds like your chain to me lad. Have you been ridin’ in the rain?"

He told me to go see Steve at service. Steve was busy booking appointments for the first week of July. Not June. July.

These guys were swamped. But after 2 minutes of explaining my situation and my trip, Steve had my bike in the back – cleaned and lube’d my chain – shook my hand and said ‘good luck – enjoy your trip’.

No charge.

I sure do like it out here.

I left the shop, went right to GPSCity.com and picked up my new Garmin Zumo 550, bolted on my new mount – and hit the trail. At 4:00pm in the afternoon. Which is why I only made it from Calgary to Chain Lakes Provincial Park. Well, that and the fact that I took an hour and a half detour up through Kananaskis Country from the Cowboy Trail. Unfortunately, highway 40, the Kananaskis Trail, does not open until June 15th. Maybe on the way home I will get back to it.

 

Crowsnest Pass

BTW – I have created a sub-album on my Photobucket page for yesterday and todays travels. I think it keeps things simpler.

sub-album

So, tonight I am sleeping in luxury once again. My cameras are all charged, as is my cell phone, so I can sleep wherever I find myself wanting to camp tomorrow night. I have a great run planned for the day. From Creston up to Nelson BC to do the Kootenay Lakes loop through Kaslo and New Denver, then back down to Castelgar. About 350kms, and 5.5 hours. For a side trip before getting back on my way to Vancouver.

The weather network is calling for rain all day.

Put your raingear on my fellow travelers – cause we are gonna ride!

Not exactly roughing it…..

 

As part of my speaking at Calgary Police Services tomorrow the city of Calgary has put me up for the night tonight. In pretty posh digs, I must say. As the pictures below attest to, this is not back-country camping. But that is coming, I assure you.

Today started with something new. Riding in the pouring rain. *sigh*

On the bright side, my new rain gear and waterproof boots passed the test with flying colors.

I rode over to CPS headquarters and took care of the introductions and finalized arrangements for tomorrow morning. I should mention that Calgary Police Services have the largest (square footage) headquarters in Canada – the city got a deal that could not be refused when Nortel went south, so to speak. The place is absolutely huge. Well done Calgary. Ottawa could take a tip or two on NOT wasting tax payer dollars, wise property investments, and about 101 other things.

But I digress.

After finishing up there I came here to the hotel to check in and then……yes, hopped on my bike and rode around Calgary. With a mission, I might add. It just so happens that one of the biggest online distributors for all things GPS, GPSCity.com, have an outlet right around the corner from the hotel. And I need a new handle bar mount. How I got talked into buying a new GPS to go with my new mount I am still not quite sure. But if the mount arrives in the store tomorrow (they had no stock on the item that I needed) I will be walking out with a new Garmin Zumo 550 waterproof motorcycle GPS and the aforementioned mount.

My poor visa.

Later in the afternoon I went and had a spaghetti supper with John and his sister – very good spaghetti. I also made a gift of my now redundant 2nd pair of boots – they fit John just fine.

After supper we went to a local A&W and met up with 3 members of the Calgary chapter of the CMC. Two of them are actually originally from Ottawa – Chris, nicknamed ‘Flem’ made sure that I would say Hi to the 011 Ottawa chapter – so Hi from Flem.

And then – the highlight. A ride north on the Glenmore Trail up to a little town known as Bragg Creek. What a spot. And what a view on the ride there. I am now able to say that I have seen the Rockies – albeit from a distance. The scene is pretty much beyond my ability to describe. I am hoping to repeat the ride tomorrow so I can snap a few pictures, as I left my camera behind this evening.

I was given some ‘voice of experience’ advice on routes that I absolutely must ride – as well as some updates on current conditions. Between mudslides, floods, washouts, torrential rains and…yes…SNOW….it appears that I may have to delay my entry into the mountains by a day or two. Which I may have had to do anyway, because……

There is one sour note to the day, however. I am now pretty much convinced that my bike is suffering from some form of bottom-end mechanical problem. I am thinking clutch – but I am not experienced with motorcycle mechanics. Zen maybe, but that is another story.

I will be bringing my baby in to a local repair shop tomorrow. And waiting patiently, trying not to show my nervousness and unease, for the motorcycle doctor to give me a prognosis.

Pray for me, my fellow travelers.