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!