Day 10-Whistler to White Rock with a CRASH!-285km-18 Sept. 2014,

I awoke several times to find that it was still “dark” outside. After rolling over and going back to sleep I finally checked my clock to find that it 9:00, why was it still so dark out! The combination of overcast skies and thick trees meant it was still “dark” in my tent. I staggered out and quickly packed up my gear before the authorities discovered us squatting under the power lines. We rode into town to finally see Whistler in the day. I spent some times wandering the walkways of this story book town and looked longingly at all the mountain bikers ripping down the hills. Next time I am here I will definitely be renting a bike to join them.

Jason lead us up to loggers lake and mad the short hike up to a rope swing that he had found on his previous visit. When we arrived we found the remains of some ones camp fire which was spreading rapidly across the dry ground. Having nothing to put out the smoldering fire we waved over a guide with his gaggle of hiker who had a tarp in his bag which we filled several times from the lake below to douse the blaze. Not fully satisfied we called the forest fire prevention line so that they could get a crew out to dig up the site to ensure the roots were fully extinguished.

we are also firefighters

With our good dead for the day done we decided that, despite the cool, it would be silly not to take a swing. We were here after all. Stripping down to our skivvies we scaled the tree to the launch platform 5m above us, screwed up our courage, and swung out into the unknown. The way the swing was set up once you left the platform there was no turning back. If you hung on you would eventually come to rest dangling over shallow water and submerged trees. You had to fully commit and release at the highest point of the swing to plunge 10m into the lake. Once I got up the courage to do it once it was so much fun I simply had to do it twice!

the view from the top of the rope swing

After gearing up and hiking back to the bikes we rode down the mountain to meet up with Alissa one last time at the local brewery. When we arrived, I realized that I had left my precious skivvies unsecured on the bike which caused them to flutter off somewhere on the mountain road. Someone was going to get a very special souvenir when they found them! After saying farewell to Alissa we set off for the big city of Vancouver.

The light rain had made the highway slick which made me take all the corners with care. Despite this, on the exit to Noth-Van I felt my back end sliding out. There was nothing I could do to stop it, next thing I knew my bike was sliding on its side off the road. I knew I would be fine, I was traveling at a mere 30km/h when the tire slid out but how would the bike fare? When I skidded to a stop, uttering every curse word into my helmet I was able to stand up and find that, except for a rip in my pants, I was fully intact. But my bike, my faithful companion on this voyage, hadn’t been so lucky. The hard panier on both sides of my bike had been smashed to bits scattering my belonging into the ditch. What had caused this accident? Low tire pressure? Old tires? Oil on the road? All good excuses but ultimately the blame had to be on my shoulders. I was going too fast for the conditions and paid the price. It could have been much worse. The incident didn’t really scare me, more than anything I was just mad at myself. This would be an expensive lesson, the side cases would have to be replaced, but I would learn from it. I didn’t want this trip to come to an end because I was being careless with my riding.

Still smiling! kind of. -JKD Photo

With the help of Jason and a passing motorist we lifted the bike and rolled it into the nearby parking lot where we secured my bags and what remained of my side cases with rope and set off to our destination. In addition to hurting my precious bike, we were going to be late for dinner. We still had 50km to go to reach my family’s home in White Rock. Our route took us thru through the worst of Vancouver’s traffic. Riding through Vancouver at rush isn’t something I would wish on anyone. When we returned to tour the city… we would take the bus.

We finally arrived at Frank and Tammy’s home in White Rock where we were greeted with fantastic left overs, a garage for the bikes, and real beds for us!

Day 11-13-Relaxing on the Coast-578km-19 to 21 Sept. 2014,

We had originally planned to stay just two nights but Frank and Tammy’s legendary hospitality forced us to stay 4 nights. The first day we spent lounging around making final arrangements to depart Canada and finding a replacement for my smashed side cases.

On the second day we ventured into Vancouver with my cousin’s Mark and Rebecca to see all the sites. Rebecca is now living in the city and leading an exciting life as graphic designer.

Spot the tourist -JKD photo

We eventually found our way to a dinner where I enjoyed a fabulous burger and a $5 shake. The shake eventually led us to decide that we had to watch a Tarantino film that night so we set off to Rebecca’s place stopping only to acquire one of Jason and mine’s favorite things… a box of wine.

$5 shakes and Ray Ban club

After the movie Jason, Mark, and I set off to find our way back to White Rock, having an hour to kill we decided to try our luck at the casino (Jason and I needed to practice for Vegas after all!). We didn’t have much luck which meant we all left a little poorer than when we entered; which is about what we expected.

The next day we were all supposed to head out with the boat for a day on the lake. Mark, who had only just turned nineteen, was discovering that box wine did not agree with and decided that he would be especially susceptible to sea sickness today, so he went back to bed. The rest of us went out and enjoyed a fantastic on the water. Becca taught Jason and I the finer points of wake surfing which, to my surprise, I discovered I wasn’t terrible at! Sadly I cannot say the same about my wake boarding skills.

How I looked on my first attempt -JKD photo

How its supposed to look -JKD photo

How I looked by the end of the day -JKD photo

Frank, Tammy, Rebecca, Mark and Mary thank you for all the hospitality, you made it very difficult to leave!

Day 14-White Rock to Seattle-195km-22 Sept. 2014,

Woke up to a misty rain falling from the sky, because of this we took our time packing up and were rewarded with glorious sunshine by the time we departed. Before we left Canada we canceled our cell phones and acquired US dollars to get us through the first week in a foreign land. After a one hour wait at the border in the scorching sun we were finally at the security point. The guard asked me all about our trip; it’s hard to tell if he is genuinely interested or trying to decide if we needed special screening. I felt a little rude giving him terse answers but I was in a hurry to get across to start the next leg of our journey. 

Once we were across, our first stop was at a boating supply store to acquire new genuine pelican cases for my bike, to get us there I had tied down my two back packs to what remained of my smashed side cases. My make shift set up must of looked pretty rough to any passing observers. The shop had exactly the cases I wanted and were nice enough to lend me a drill so that I could make holes in my brand new cases. Before long we were off again! I am curious to see how these new cases hold up in a crash but I am in no great hurry to find out for sure!

With my shiny new cases  we rolled onto Seattle to meet our host, Rick P., who we had found on Moto Stays (Couch Surfing for those with two wheels and a story). Rick took us to a local Tapas bar which brought back fond memories of my time in Barcelona in 2011, of course at the time we could only afford to look longingly thru the windows at all the delicious food offered up at the many tapas bars while we dined on left overs from the hostels free breakfast (which can be turned into a free lunch and supper if you have big pockets). Rick has lived all over the US and in Southeast Asia and we were able to fill the night with stories of travel and discussion of the future of China.

Day 15-Seattle and Everett- 23 Sept. 2014,

We rode up to Everett to visit the Boeing factory were the 747, 747, and 787 are assembled in the largest building in the world! Sadly there was no cameras allowed but the 4 brand new 747’s being put together looked tiny in this massive building. We even got to see the massive Dream Lifter land and unload its cargo of parts for the 787 which were being delivered from plants all across the globe for final assembly.

It lifts dreams

We returned to Rick’s place to drop off the bikes and catch the bus into downtown Seattle. Seeing the space needle, monorail, and other left overs from the 1962 world’s reminded us that the future looked a lot more futuristic  50 years ago but then again the people then had no idea how cool the iPhone would be!

I dare you to go closer

The space needle wasn't difficult to find

 Day 16-Seattle to Port Angeles-155km- 24 Sept. 2014,

Woke up to pouring rain so we fell back on our previous strategy of taking a long ass time to pack up while hoping the rain would stop. Our tardiness rewarded us again with a sunny departure in early afternoon. Rick, thanks for being a great host!

We caught a the Ferry from Edmound Bay to Kingston, for a motorcycle trip we seem to be spending a surprising amount of time on boats. On the ferry we encountered dozens of other motor cyclists out for a ride which is significant because it is probably the largest group of middle aged men we will ever encounter who did not want to talk to us about adventure riding. Apparently gold wing and Harley riders don’t talk to dirty Canadians on KLR’s J.

Harley riders not talking to us

Hi speed selfie

 We rode onto Port Angeles where we stopped for supplies at the local Safeway which tempted us with their steaming piles of hot and ready Chinese Food…. Never again! With my stomach in knots we made the short ride into Olympic National Forest to camp for the night.

Day 17-Port Angeles to Amanda Park-277km- 25 Sept. 2014,

Indulged in a leisurely morning with the sun shining down thru the trees of the Olympic forest. Once we packed up packed up and ready to go a started my bike with a mighty roar! When Jason tried to do the same his bike stubbornly refused to start. After fiddling with the fuel petcock and cranking it for a few minutes we pulled off our helmets and broke out our tools and thinking caps (these are most important of all). Having established that there was in fact air and fuel reaching the engine we had to check for spark next (these bikes really are about as basic as you can get). By pulling the ignition cap off the plug and using the spare plug that I had brought we were able to establish that there was spark. So why wasn’t there any fire? It was possible that the plug was fouled but in order to get at the plug you have to remove the entire fuel tank which was something we wanted to avoid.

Then Jason remembered that he had had similar problems before which was due to poor connection between the cap and the wire. After pulling the connector apart and tweaking the copper wires within he was able to bring his bike back to life but it would continue to give us troubles for the next few days. Again I felt the frustration I had felt back on our third day of travel (the chain incident), Jason knew that his wire was faulty back in May but hadn’t bothered to replace it and now his lack of preparation was delaying us once again. This time it was only took an hour to fix but what would happen when something more critical, that should have been replaced before departure, went leaving us stranded somewhere? Vent over.

With both bikes thumping in unison we set off to ride the 15km up to hurricane ridge. I started off in the lead but halfway up Jason blasted past me, “too fast” I thought as I shook my head. The KLR isn’t the most nimble bike to start with and loading down with all our gear doesn’t help matters. But maybe I was going a little slow? I had been even more cautious after my spill coming into Vancouver. I went around a few more corners and then saw Jason and his bike in the ditch. I guess it was too fast! The bike was a little scratched up but was otherwise fine.

Jason's bike needed to have a lie down

The new hole alows for easy access

Now we had both crashed once which is maybe something we needed to teach both of us to be more cautious in the future. Once we pulled the bike out of the ditch we finished the ride up to the peak where we were rewarded with a grand lookout and freezing wind.

Also, a raven who was trying to steal my phone!

Criminal raven

We descended into a thick blanket of fog as we descended into Port Angeles as we pushed on toward Forks, WA it began to mist, then rain, and finally pour! Being wet and cold is pretty much my least favorite thing. I can handle each separately but together It is just miserable.

Hiding from the rain

We reached Amanda Park, a tiny tourist village on the edge of park. Wondering into the only motel in town we found out that they wanted $125 bucks for a single bed! No way! (In retrospect I wonder if the proprietor took one look at us, dirty and wet, and decided that we would make $125 worth of mess).

We rode into the park with the rain still coming down to try and find some shelter. In the second camp ground we inspected we found a picnic shelter but someone had already laid claim to it. Just as we about to take off again the figure stood and beckoned us over saying that it wasn’t much but he would be happy to share the space.

So we rolled the bikes in and tried to warm ourselves by the small fire. The figure turned out to be Doug, a 65 year old Vietnam Vet of no fixed addressed, he had appeared to be living there for several weeks. He rambled on about various conspiracy theories happy to talk even if we weren’t really listening (I think he would have had the same conversation with or without us there!). He certainly eccentric but he was kind enough to share his space and entertain us with all his conspiracy theories!

Soon after two cyclist appeared in the rain gazing longingly at our shelter. We invited them to join us as well and with that we had five people setting up camp in this picnic shelter to avoid the rain. The cyclists turned out to be British ski bums living in whistler (where we had just been!)  cycling to California in the shoulder season.  Living off of a motorcycle is a can be Spartan at times (remember, Jason only pack two pairs of underwear) but it seems positively luxurious when compared to life on a pedal bike. I will be the first to admit that touring cyclists our way tougher than any biker (including the gangster variety of bikers).

Day 18-Amanda Park to Portland -380km- 26 Sept. 2014,

The rain poured all through the night and was still coming down hard in the morning. Everyone took their time getting up and making breakfast because no one wanted to go back out into the down pour. Finally around 11 it seemed to lighten up a little and we decided to make a run for it. We made it as far as the campground gate which the park rangers had been kind enough to lock with us inside. There was no way around the gate and sliding our heavily loaded bikes under the barrier wasn’t really feasible. So naturally we pulled out the trusty adjustable wrench and took the gate apart. That’s right, we couldn’t force the lock so we just undid the bolt holding the chain. After putting it back together we were off into the torrential rain.

After about 30 min of riding we broke into glorious sunshine! Then ten minutes later we were back into the rain. This pattern of rain with brief glimpses of sunshine continued until we reached Astoria. After grabbing a bite to eat at our favorite internet café (McDonalds) we rode up to visit the Astoria Column. This monument looks like it has been transplanted from a European capital into this sleepy coastal town.

Astoria's Column

Overlooking Astorua

After taking in the view we hoped back onto our bikes and blasted the last hundred miles to Portland and checked the cheapest hotel I could find so that we would have an opportunity to dry out all our soggy gear.

Day 19-Portland to Crater Lake-500km-27 Sept. 2014,

After performing some parking lot maintenance on Jason’s bike we headed east to see these awesome falls.

Next we wound our way thru some of the curviest road we have seen yet heading deeper into the interior of Oregon. We rode hard and just managed to make it to the camp site just as the sun was setting and the temperature plummeting; in the morning I would find frost on the picnic tables!

Day 20-Crater Lake - 28 Sept. 2014,

This morning I hid in the tent until all the frost had disappeared. When we finally gained enough courage to venture out we set off on the bikes with only day packs and worked our way around the lake stopping at every scenic look out that caught our eye. The peak we had wanted to hike up to was hidden in a layer of cloud so we compromised by hiking down to the lake along the only trail that provides access to the lake from the crater’s rim.   

Clouds and cold

White pine trees bent from constant wind

 After a day of exploring we picked up a friend making kit (aka six pack of beer) and headed back to the camp site. Since Jason and I were sick of talking to each other we took the beer over a few sites and made friends with Emilia, Trevor, and their dog Red. We had bumped into them on the trail during the day and they were happy to share their campfire with us. They even busted out a guitar to keep us entertained. Sometimes talking to strangers pays off!

Making friends in the campground

Day 21-Crater Lake to Clam Beach -420km- 29 Sept. 2014,

The morning was cold, but not as cold as it had been the day before. I didn’t really mind pulling on long underwear and a sweater because I knew I would be heading down from the mountains into sunny California today! With every mile we rode I could watch the altitude drop on my GPS and feel the heat begin to rise. Eventually we made it to the coast and the red wood forest. The thousand year old red woods tower around us blotting out the sun that had been keeping me warm. We even to manage to find a tree to park our bikes in for safe keeping! And a photo op!

California Coast

Clam Beach

Late in the afternoon we pulled into Clam Beach, a no thrills campsite beside the highway. As I started to cook supper a gentleman wandered over asked for a beer…. Or a cigarette…. Or weed…. Or money (so he could buy some beer). I apologised for not having any of these thing and asked him if he would like some food, it would be no trouble for me to toss in a few extra noodles. He wasn’t interested. Jason made the mistake of rolling a cigarette for our new friend; as a result he spent the next 45min sitting in our campsite asking us over and over again for beer, cigarettes, weed, or money. He got very excited when he thought he had found a tiny bit of marijuana on the picnic table and begged us for just one more cigarette so he could smoke it. We checked later, as far as we could tell the marijuana he had found was in fact bird dung…. Perhaps we should have let him smoke it. Finally, to get rid of our very eager friend we gave him all the change from our wallets, about $2, and encouraged him to hitch hike into town where he could turn that money into a beer far away from us.

Day 3-Calgary to Fernie! -300km-11 Sept. 2014,

After chilly but relaxing day off we are eager to put some road behind us. It takes both of us a while to pack everything and load up (how did I fit all this stuff into these tiny bags!?). There is still plenty of snow on the ground and trees are down everywhere but the roads are dry so we set off.

Jason has decided that he has found the dream laptop so we head to the mall to pick it up. Along the way he notices that his chain is very loose so we decide to take advantage of the heated underground parking lot to do a quick tune up…. An hour later it has become clear that it will not be a quick tune up. Once tightened the chain makes an awful clicking noise as the sprocket rotates nothing we do will make it go away. Eventually we conclude that the chain must be stretched in some weird way and needs to be replaced. With lap top in hand… or panier… we are off to Black Foot Motorsports.

Fortunately, Black Foot has a chain in stock but they are not going to be kind enough to let us roll into their shop to use their tools so we also had to purchase a chain breaker. We broke out our tools and went to work in the parking lot.

As the afternoon wore on under a blazing sun I became more and more frustrated with Jason. While tuning up the bikes I had urged him to replace his chain and sprockets before we departed as I had done in May but he insisted that his had lots of life left and it would be cheaper to do it later on. Now we were wasting a beautiful riding day working in a parking lot. Sometimes Jason’s lack of preparation and go-with-the-flow attitude frustrates me but, on the other hand, sometimes it leads us to grand adventures. Hopefully it will be a net positive over this trip.

With repairs complete and a belly full of Taco Time we finally hit the road around 1400. With the wheels of my steel horse finally rolling towards the mountain the frustration I had felt earlier melted away. I was so relaxed that I missed our exit. Pulling off onto the shoulder I tried to single to Jason to back track in the ditch for the 500m back to the exit. He nodded emphatically and lurched into the ditch heading directly across the 100m gap, instead of back tracking, towards the exit ramp. From the shoulder, I could see the thick steel cable stretching between the wooden posts at the edge of the exit ramp. Jason had not seen the cable. I watched helplessly from the shoulder as he rolled in slow motion to disaster. When he finally saw the barrier he braked but it was too late. The cable caught the bike on the front forks between the tire and fender stopping him dead. My fear was that he would be thrown over the bars onto the road, fortunately he was moving slow enough to prevent this from happening. I tried to rush over on my bike to help him lift his bike but my kick stand sunk into the wet earth causing my bike to fall over as I was getting off. Eventually we were both able to right our vessels on our own.  After collecting our thoughts we sheepishly rode down the ditch back to the exit and rejoined our the flow of traffic.

After this, our ride proceeded without further incident. We followed highway 22 “Cowboy Trail” as it snaked its way south through the foothills, bracketed by fields full of snow, towards the Crow’s Nest Pass. As we climbed in altitude the heat of the afternoon faded, soon the hand warmers were at full blast but still a chill was creeping in through my layers. When the road finally turned west onto the Crow’s Nest the snow in the fields was gone and the chill receded. Rolling towards the setting sun we made good time arriving in in Fernie half an hour before sunset. Here we met up with Kevin Burgschmidt, who we would be staying with for the next three nights. Again we were greeted with cold beers, hot food, and ample floor space to sleep on. We wiled away the hours recanting tales of all the trials and tribulations we had faced in the first three days of our journey.

The fact that my bike was still clunking along without incident and I hadn’t encountered any of the problems that Jason had in the last few  days, namely steel cables any faulty chains, made me feel fortunate and, to be honest, a little smug. Soon enough I would be encountering plenty of my own problems.

Day 4-6-Fast times in Fernie -250km - 12 to 14 Sept. 2014,

After a leisurely morning of espressos and scones the three musketeers faced a tough decision… Motor bike or mountain bike adventure? Kevin had recently acquired a DRZ 400 and had taught himself to ride over the course of the summer, he had only rode motorbikes a handful of times before purchasing his own two wheeled monster but, since he is an expert mountain bike rider, the transition to motorised thrill seeking was an easy one.

First off, we rode up several kilometers of delightfully twisty gravel roads to Kevin’s place of work. He has spent the last few years working as a bar tender at Island Lake Cat Ski Lodge, in the winter the location is only accessible  by snowmobile or Cat; what a commute! In the summer, when the snow recedes, the facility becomes a beautiful alpine retreat. After getting my first taste of mountain gravel roads we wandered around the lake and spent some quality time playing on the local rope swing.

Our monkey brain’s tree swinging needs satisfied we hoped back on our mounts and blasted back down the mountain, through town, and began climbing again on coal creek road. We briefly stopped at an improvised dirt bike and eyed up a hill that was just begging to be climbed. After grabbing a sip of water we all decided that maybe it could be concurred on the way down and carried on.

Kevin lead us up a narrowing mountain road that put our oversized dirt bikes through their paces. After navigating countless switchbacks and dodging many a boulder that had fallen on the road we made it to the summit. The peak was cluttered with transmission towers which the road had been built to service. We had a commanding view of the valley below and the ski hill was directly across from us. After posing for pictures we began practicing our hill climbing technique on to prepare us for the incline that had taunted us on our ascent. On our way down, Kevin stopped half was down to walk us into a glorious waterfall, which I can only assume is his go to date destination, that I simply had to climb all over… in.

We made our way down to the dreaded hill, after surveying it once more I volunteered to go first on the condition that I could use Kevin’s more agile DRZ; my heavy bike with its balding tires wasn’t up for the challenge. Having spent much of my youth on dirt bikes climbing hills in gravel pits I climbed the hill with ease. After summiting two more times it was Jason’s turn, with a few sage words of wisdom from me, such as, “try not to fall, it would be embarrassing”, he too climbed the hill easily. Finally it was Kevin’s turn. He was initially reluctant but after Jason and I applied a suitable amount of peer pressure and advice he pulled on his lid and went for it!

It was now late afternoon, I could tell because my stomach was rumbling, so we headed into town. But not before we chased each other around the improvised track a few times. I had one last mission that day, I wanted a meat pie from “Loaf”, the local artisan bakery. As we rolled up we met Kevin’s roommate, Tiffany, exciting with just such a meat pie. Upon staggering into the bakery we discovered that Tiff had purchased the very last pie, friends off! As a result we had to settle for some delicious sausage rolls.

To cap off the day we joined some of Kevin’s friends to play the front nine of the Frolf course (fries-bee golf). As it turns out I am about as good a Frolf as I am at Gold… I’m not going pro anytime soon. We finally headed home to relax.

The next morning I woke up early, as is my fashion, instead of harassing my friends I set out to wander the town in search of breakfast. My unsatisfied meat pie craving led me back to the bakery, fortunately their wide selection included a breakfast pie which I glee fully wolfed down under the morning sun. I then composed a post card to one of my many adoring fans and spent the rest of the morning trying to find a mailbox… which is more difficult than you  might expect.

 

When I returned home, the other two muskateers were finally emerging from their slumber and were foraging for their breakfast. The decisions we faced today were easier, we clearly had to go mountain biking today. Kevin’s roommates were kind/foolish enough to lend us their bikes for the day. What I didn’t fully comprehend was the amount of hill climbing necessary to get to the trail head.  I consider myself a decent cyclists, I own Giant Carbon Fiber hard tail mountain which is my pride and joy, but he inclines of the Saskatoon trail system did not compare to the steady climb that Kevin lead us up today. Several times Jason and I had to stop, panting and fearing cardiac arrest while Kevin stood there looking like he hadn’t even broken a sweat. We had brought along Kevin’s roommates dogs for some exercise, sadly they were not willing to tow us up the hills. After what seemed like an eternity of climbing, wishing all the time for a motor on these bikes, the fun began. The beautiful full suspension bike that I road soaked up all the bumps as I held on for dear life as we banged our way thru the dense forest back to the town site. I am proud to say, that despite several close calls, I never wiped out. Jason wasn't so lucky; he was able to donate some blood to the forest gods.

When we reached the bottom of the hill I was thoroughly spent but I am certain that Kevin could have easily made another run; as it turns out there are some advantages to living in a mountain town with a biking and skiing obsession. After foraging for sandwich materials at the local grocery store I was more than ready to call it a day but first we had to play the back nine of the Frolf course. At Least my game was improving!  

Kevin had really saved the best for last, on our last day in Fernie he took us out onto a 200km adventure exploring logging roads that followed the Bull River. The sun was shining and all three of our bikes were chugging along smoothly. The most exciting moment of the day occurred when Kevin took one gravel corner to fast and skidded into the underbrush. Luckily he had chosen one of the finest corners to slip out on. There was no sharp drop. His bike had a few scrapes but he was fine. We proceeded on into the twisting mountain roads; all of us taking the corners with a little more caution. Our timing was impeccable; we rolled back into Fernie just as the sun was setting and enjoyed one more night with a roof over our heads before setting out to camp for the next few nights.

Day 7-Fernie to Fletcher Falls -300km-15 Sept. 2014,

As it turned out, Kevin had the next two days off so he decided to join for a day of riding. The previous night we had discussed getting up and leaving relatively early, I wanted to be riding by 930 but we eventually settled on 1000 (I can hear my morning loving father groaning from here). Years ago I had discovered, on ski trips, that if I wanted to get my buddies up early to get to the hill for that first lift up I couldn’t just turn on load music to wake them up. Inevitably they would just groan and roll back over to soothe the hangover from last night. However, if I awoke early and started cooking a hearty breakfast the smell would inevitable draw them out of their slumber for sustenance. Note: it is of utmost importance to get a large pan of bacon frying early to ensure maximum success. With this in mind I did whipped up a batch of eggs benny for everyone!

Despite my nearly foolproof strategy, I had failed to consider how long it would take us to pack up. This being only our third time packing up (and Kevin’s first) we had yet to master our technique. As a result we didn’t hit the road until 11:45 which meant we might just make it to the 1:30 tour of the kokanee brewery in Creston, BC if we road hard and didn’t encounter any problems….

About 10km out of Cranbrook, about half way to our destination, I notice that no one is following me. I stopped and waited for a minute but still no bikes. So I head back towards the city and find Jason and Kevin on a turn out. Jason’s bike was propped up on a log and the back tire was already off. The first flat of the trip! The first of many I am sure. Once I arrived with the tire spoons, Jason was able to swiftly pull the tire off and slip in a new tube but the hand pump we had along broke while pumping up the tire. No matter, we strapped the tire to my bike and Jason took off to find air leaving Kevin and I to have some quality alone time.

When he returned we were able to throw the bike back together in short order and we were off! We had missed the 1:30 tour by a lot but maybe, with just a little luck we could make it to the final tour of the day at 3:30. Unsurprisingly, when we were a mere 12km from our destination my bike decided to die. Sitting on the side of the road fiddling for a minute seemed to solve the problem and we were off. But it died again as we rolled into the parking lot! I decided to deal with it later and rushed to make the tour but we were late!!

They were nice enough to let us join the tour halfway thru which allowed us to see part of the mechanized wonder that goes into making a tasty brew and most importantly we were able to sample the final product.

The tour wasn’t the end of our day, we still had to make it to Ainsworth Hot springs to soak the days stress away. We stopped for parking lot sandwiches and supplies at the grocery store and we were off. Traveling along the east shore of Lake Kootenay on some of the curviest pavement I had ever seen (I have to thank Kelsey B. for showing me this delightful route). Along this route my bike decided to die two more times before I finally discovered the problem…. I wasn’t wearing enough clothes.

Since it was a nice warm day, all of my cold weather gear was stowed in my tank bag which had swelled to enormous size and was now pinching my fuel tanks breather tube. Shifting the load around solved this problem for good.  With that mystery solved it was smooth sailing onto the Kootenay Lake Ferry which is the longest free ferry in the world! The crossing takes about 45min.

When we reached the other side, darkness had fallen so we carefully rode the 12km up to the Ainsworth hot springs. We spent two hours soaking in the healing powers of the waters and exploring the “natural” cave. Being unsure of when my next bathing opourtunity would present itself, I took care to clean behind my ears. When we finally departed we had to ride another 12km in the dark, something I try to avoid, up to Fletcher falls. We never would have found it without Kevin’s keen eyes (also had the advantage of being here once before). We parked our bikes, hid some gear in the underbrush, and staggered down the hill with our camping gear. When we reached the site we could hear the falls but couldn’t see them. After roasting some hot dogs over the fire I called it a night. With the fly open on my tent I was able to gaze up on a sky filled with stars.

 Day 8-Fletcher Falls to Edgewood -181km-16 Sept. 2014,

When I opened my eyes in the morning a clear blue sky greeted me with a bald eagle circling majestically overhead (I swear that I am not making this up). When the eagle finally went on its way I could glance over and have an excellent view of lake Kootenay. I spent the morning exploring our site in daylight and scaling the falls. I then spent some quality time fighting with my camp stove which simply refused to work properly (something had to go wrong on this otherwise perfect morning).

Kevin had to head back to Fernie for work the next day and set off around noon with a promise that he would meet us in Mexico to teach us how to surf! Jason and I should have been ready to depart at the same time but since we were in no hurry we spent the afternoon reading, writing, and napping in the sun (this is mostly what I did). Before we knew it 3 O’Clock had arrived and if we didn’t get moving ASAP we would be in real danger of spending another night here.

We had intended to ride 400km today but night was fast approaching when we arrived at the Fouquir to Needles Ferry. I wound up asking one of the ferry operators where we could camp and after a few minutes of trying to explain the directions to me, without success, he simply told us to follow his beat up pickup truck (his shift was over anyways). He lead us to the tiny village of Edgewood which seems to have been forgotten by time, no cell service! But there community campground was lovely so we set up camp within view of a handful of houseboats floating on Lower Arrow Lake and called it a day after riding a mere 181km. In my opinion, it was still an excellent day.

Day 9-Edgewood-Whistler-578km-17 Sept. 2014,

Conscious of the fact that we had a big day ahead of us, we road hard to get to Vernon where we had to stop and poke around the Cadet Summer Training Center located there. Many of my friends had spent summers there, along with thousands of other cadets and adult staff, which meant I had heard endless stories about the place but still had no image in my mind to go with all the stories. As we were sitting at the entrance gate trying decide whether or not to go in and give ourselves a self-guided tour a gentleman in a truck rolled up to admire our bikes. As it turns out he was a fellow KLR owner AND a Sgt. Who worked on the base. He was more than happy to show us around. With our curiosity satisfied we grabbed some lunch in town and set out on the open road once more hoping to make it to whistler before sundown or catastrophic motorcycle failure.

As we neared the storied town of whistler, the skies decided to bless us with rain. There are few things worse than setting up a tent in the rain and I began considering the merits of spending the night in the local hostel. Rain is pretty much my kryptonite.

When we finally arrived in whistler daylight was fading fast, Jason claimed he knew a spot to camp so I followed him, still dreaming of the hostel, through town and into one of the neighborhoods. Eventually he cuts off the road onto a mountain bike trail for 300m and we arrive at a clearing in the woods between power lines and a river with large trees to shelter us from the rain. Most importantly it is far enough from the road that no one will notice or bother us. We really are camping like hobos now!

Once we set up camp we ventured into town to meet up with Alissa R., a friend from Montreal who we had met in Venice on our previous European adventure in 2011, for some blue cheese pizza and locally brewed grapefruit beer, both are highly recommended!