Good God Almighty, it's Banff at last!

Well, here we are in Banff. 1325 km from our start, 20 days ago. Average per day is about 70 km., and average speed about 18 kph. My maximum speed (down the hill coming into Banff today) was just over 67 kph. All very interesting.

More useful is that we are done, and have proven that we can still get ourselves (with

 essential support from Nancy) under our own steam from the Pacific and across the continental divide.

And what a ride it was. Twenty days of varied scenery, most of it wonderful (Canal Flats being a major exception). And this last few days through Kootenay national Park being a kind of highlight for us. As we went further up onto the Alpine meadows, with the Kootenay and

 Vermilion Rivers flowing through broad areas of the meadows, and the mountains overseeing all of this with majesty and incredible beauty. I will try to attach some pictures for your edification, but the eye of course sees a whole lot more. Hopefully the brain will remember it as well.

The day began quite early again, leaving Radium before 7 and getting on the road part way through the park by 7:30. We were again blessed by clear skies and an almost clear highway.

The biking was relatively easy, with some modest uphills and some lovely downhills. As I said, I broke my own speed record on the way down to Banff from the Divide. And it felt safe as well. Of course, we did not want to go on the Trans-Canada, so we took the Bow Valley Parkway which runs alongside the highway for most of its length. And it was a very nice ride at that. While there were no shoulders, the road was quiet, smooth, and the few cars that we met were

 polite and gave way easily. We stopped at many of the information places along the way (as is

 my wont) and also stopped to take pictures of the elk along the road. You can do so much more on a bike than with a car.

Weather was almost too hot yesterday. When we started in the early morning, it was only 7

 degrees, but by the time we got to Banff, it was 30! And riding on an asphalt road makes it hotter yet. So we were draining the water bottles, and looking forward to a beer when we got to Banff. We kept expecting to see the marching bands to welcome us, but there was nothing to be seen, so we went to our hotel.

Ceremonial pictures were done at the Divide and at the entrance to Banff. Also (after we each showered) in the hotel room, with the drink of champagne in the elegant tumblers that the

 hotel provided, and using the champagne that Nancy had bought for us to celebrate. We had some snack foods as well, and some pleasant conversation. I think that we are and should be proud of our accomplishment. Although we don't quite believe that we have done it. It's a long way to go.

That night, we treated ourselves to a meal at the Beaujolais, a fancy restaurant in town, which

 surprisingly had some wine as well.  A delightful meal was had by all, and we came back to our room content and full.

And so it ends. Tomorrow we will go up the Gondola and do some sight-seeing here, then into Calgary on Canada Day.

Kootenay Pass and beyond

We got up at five this morning, with the intention of beating the traffic through the Park. Yesterday, we had trouble finding a motel room because of all the traffic coming into Radium from Calgary, and had also noticed the steady stream of RV's and large pickups, most with Alberta licences. Barry and Nancy had driven up to the summit in the Park to check out the trip, and had trouble with the amount of traffic that was present. So we got up early, had our breakfast, and of course then went to a coffee shop for our morning jolt.

Finally on the road about 7AM, and began our climb. We had a few rewards for our efforts. First, we met with a small group of bighorn sheep just outside of town, and got some lovely pictures. And second the traffic was very light. Hurray!

The Sinclair Canyon was spectacular, and the trip up the mountain was not as bad as I had feared (and as I remembered from the trip down with Patrick four years ago). The view from the top was phenomenal (see picture), as we looked down into the Kootenay River Valley, having crossed the Kootenay Mountains. We have only one more chain to go, and we are over the Continental Divide, and when we pee it will end up in Hudson's Bay.

Barry and I got separated at one point, and I was steaming ahead thinking that he was ahead of me when he was actually behind me (having stopped for a view of the river). I stopped for

a view of the mountains, and stopped to take a picture of a bear at the roadside. And finally, a kind motorist stopped and told me that Barry was actually 3 km behind me, not in front of me as I had thought.

Re-united, we went on into the Valley, and then up into the Vermilion Valley. Nancy met us at about the 57 km point, when we had lunch and decided to call it a day. We are back in Radium again tonight, and will pick up in the Vermilion Valley tomorrow morning, on our way over to Banff.

Radium

Why they would call a town after a radioactive metal is beyond me. And the Hot Springs are not heated by radium, so what is that about?

Today was a rest day, and a very pleasant one at that. Nancy woke with a vicious migraine, one of the worst she had ever experienced. This could be explained by the trials of finding accommodations for us all in this area where it seems a large proportion of Calgary comes to party on long weekends. So this was a difficult task, accomplished in a coffee bar with too loud music that had no resonance to people of my generation.

The upshot of this is that we decided to ride to Radium and take it easy for the day. Mission accomplished, we settled into a nice room with stalactites on the ceiling, and a lovely gazebo where I could sit and work on my internet things, like this log.

Then a nice supper, and to bed early. For tomorrow we were to face another, penultimate, climb up a mountain, and wanted to get going before the Calgary traffic began.

Up to the Rockies

We were right that Rocke and Barbara's place was uphill; on the way back to town, I went for over five kilometres on the bike without pedalling. Which was good, since we all got up about 6 AM, either to go to work (for Rocke and Barbara), or to get on with the trip (Nancy, Barry, and I). We had more good conversation and coffee and food before leaving, then off we went.

The road out of Cranbrook was scary, bigger than any we had been on, and busier with heavy trucks. Most of these, fortunately, were heading East through the Crowsnest Pass. So once we got to the interchange which got us onto the road going north, things quieted considerably. And the shoulder was good, and the road pretty level. So we made good time overall. We went up through Fort Steele (a reconstructed historic town; 

we took a pass on visiting it), and then followed the Kootenay River up to a place called Canal Flats. Along the way, we passed through the town with the interesting name of Skookumchuck. It is a pulp mill town, with that distinct odour. We actually stopped for lunch just outside of it, where Nancy met us as well. Our lunch was disturbed by a loud squeal of a whistle from the plant, which went on for some five minutes. We saw no sign of explosions, so I guess this was an ordinary occurrence.

Then on up the road (the word "up" is used advisedly) for many more kilometres until we got to the afore-mentioned Canal Flats. We had thought we might stay there, but it was a pretty meagre town, so Nancy found us a lovely cabin in a resort compound some sixteen kilometres further along, on an old part of the highway along Columbia Lake (which is the start of the Columbia River). After putting our bikes down, we realized that we had actually gone over 110 kilometres this day! So we were a bit tired, particularly since the last fifteen were

 against a strong wind.

We went into the new town of Fairmont Hot Springs for supper. Now Patrick and I came through here about four years ago, and I would swear that there was almost nothing in Fairmont Hot Springs. Now it is a bustling and posh community, with building going on everywhere. And the money comes from Alberta, almost exclusively. Dinner was fair, and the company was first-rate. Bed came early, and the sleep was sweet.

Cranbrook

We had a goal this day (Wednesday, June 26), and that was to get to Cranbrook and meet up with Rocke and Barbara, old friends from the early 70's and 80's, who I knew from my days in Halifax (Rocke, that is; Barbara came later). Barry had met Rocke once when they lived in Barry. Darlene and I had visited them about ten years ago. But they have been in Cranbrook for over three years now, and we have been in touch only through mail and the odd phone call. So I was excited to see them again.

The other exciting thing that was going to happen this day was that we would pass

 the thousand-kilometre mark. This was a cause for some celebration and many

 pictures(I will bore you with only one). But we were pleased. It feels like a real accomplishment for me. Interestingly, my body is less impressed, and still give me achy muscles and stiff joints.

The terrain going up the Moyie River was actually pretty flat, so we made better time than we had anticipated, and got to Cranbrook by noon. Along the way, we went by the town

 of Moyie, where we actually raced a train, and won (briefly). Then engineer leaned out his window and offered us some water, which we refused. There was also a nice moment when we came around a bend, and could see the hills and behind them the mountains, of the Rockies in all their glory. It was wonderful to suddenly spot them after all this time.

Along the way into the town of Cranbrook, we passed an RV dealer. He must have had a few hundred RV's, varying in size from the type you put in the bed of your pickup truck, to the ones that look like medium-sized Greyhound buses. Likely an inventory of over $4 million. But-and this was what was interesting to us-the only person seen on the property was a man sweeping the lot.No buyers to be seen. High gas prices perhaps have begun to have an impact, one hopes. Althou

gh we continue to be passed on the road by monster RV's, towing behind them their personal SUV's (including some Hummers). I wish I could say they were all from Alberta, since it would reinforce my prejudice. But there were many from BC as well.

But back to the story. We got into Cranbrook, went to the tourist place for some information about where the hospital was (to find Rocke), and wait for Nancy. The ladies in the information place were of course from Ontario, one of them from Niagara-on-the-Lake. They were helpful, and full of information, including the tidbit that Columbian squirrels eat balls. Now, we expect that they were talking about golf balls on the neighbouring golf course, but Barry and I were anxious at first.

Turns out Nancy was held up in Creston, so we went to have some lunch and put in some time before we went to meet Rocke. When we did meet him, he offered to drive us and the bikes up to his place out of town. We said we would ride our bikes (silly us). It was seven kilometres all uphill, and pretty tough going, but we go there. Barbara told us about her afternoon with her class of Grade 4-5's who were there for an end-of-year day. (They apparently right away divided themselves into gangs and plotted ways to get the other gang; kind of frightening.) And Rocke and I reminisced and talked about medicine and such things.

Their property is amazing. The picture is from the back of the house, looking over to the mountains. They have five acres, and hope that there will not be a lot of development between them and Cranbrook (I can see why). We enjoyed an amazing meal, including a salad picked that afternoon from their garden, and a mixed grill. With wine and conversation, we bent to bed happy and full. 

Yahk-ity

It has been a few days since I have had internet availability, so there is a lot to get caught up on.

We had stayed the night in a cabin with two bedrooms, a kitchen and living room (and bath), which turned out to be a real pleasure. We also had now changed to the Mountain Time Zone, so we lost an hour. On top of that, we decided to get up fairly

early and get going to Creston, then Yahk. 

We set off down the highway (we began by going up, of course: this is BC, after all. The road was not great, and there was no shoulder to speak of. But traffic was light. We went through Sanca, Kuskanook, Sirdar: a bunch of little towns that had at most three buildings in them, each. Terrific views of the lake, and the lake was awesome, with the mountains behind it, and some snow still on the hillsides. Lots of ups and downs, nothing too terrible, but you did begin to wonder if there wasn't a slightly sadistic bent to the traffic engineers.

Barry and I stopped a few times: once at a makeshift memorial to a person killed along the highway, perhaps by going over the edge of the road for a long and final trip down to the water. And another, more formal memorial to the people who had drowned in that part of the lake since the late 1800's. There were many, unfortunately.

The bottom end of Kootenay Lake is the place where there used to be a town called Kootenay Station, which was the terminus for the CPR at one point. The train still goes through there, but it is not a terminus of anything at this point, and the town has disappeared.

The land got actually flat, and there was a grassy part to the water that was renamed Duck Lake, and formed the southern grasslands of Kootenay Lake. Eventually, we came to an area which had been dyked and turned into farmland, looking very productive in the summer sun.

And here is where the strangeness of those BC engineers comes in. There was this wonderful flat land where they could put a road. So do they put it there? No, they see a mountain and decide that they must put the road up the hill, just to prove...what, exactly? There must be too much testosterone in this province: if at all possible, build the road where you need to dynamite and bulldoze lots of rocks.

If it sounds as if I was frustrated at this point, you would be right. It felt like I finally could get a break with a flat road, and it was snatched from me.

So we got into Creston (by the way, the polygamous community of Bountiful is right near there, so Barry and I had our eyes open for stray extra wives; no luck). We met Nancy, who directed us to a local bookstore/coffee shop, and we decided to have some lunch there as well, so had a brownie. And read a book for a while.

Then on for the final twenty kilometres to Yahk. This involved following the Moyie River upstream. Some hills (what else), then a long stretch of actual flatness. It was great. Just before Yahk, we crossed the Moyie river and there was a farm there with an actual yak in the yard (see picture). We tried to get close to it for the picture, but this was as close as we got. We checked into the Yahk Motel, into a room with two queen beds covered with wonderful bedspreads, and pretty minimal everything else. They let us use their BBQ, and we grilled a steak and went to bed early. We were only fifty feet from the highway and a bit more from the railway, so there was a bit of noise to get through, but we were tired, and sleep cam easily and fully. Biked about 80 km that day.

Where in the World is Bob?

Actually, I am in, or near, a small town called Boswell. No, there are not flying saucers: that's Roswell. This is also not really a own, more like a few houses with a collective address. It is on the east side of Kootenay Lake.

We came over today from Nelson, to the ferry across from Balfour to Kootenay Bay. Our usual morning with a ride downtown to get a coffee (after breakfast in the motel room) reinforced that this is indeed a town with the ambience, as Barry says, of downtown Vancouver. That's both a complement an

d a criticism. But the weather was nice, so we sat outside with our coffees and watched some local folks smoking outside and balancing their coffees on the top of the local garbage can. What some people will do for entertainment, eh?

(Nancy had already gone back to Castlegar to fetch some things that she had forgotten there, and had picked up some of the locally-famous borscht for our supper. She left early, and got back in time to join us for our coffee.)

Then over to the bike shop to get something for Barry, and then on our way. We went

 down to the waterfront, watched briefly some racing sculls along the water of the Kootenay River, then climbed a bit to go over what they call the Orange Bridge (also the Kootenay Bridge) to the north shore, for our trip to Balfour, about 35 km. 

There are many things which are nicer about going by bike, rather than a car. You hear the mountain streams as they come down the hills towards the roads, and eventually under them. Often, they are small, so you wouldn't see them at the speeds you travel by car, but on a bike, you can notice. You see the wildflowers: lupins, daisies, roses, vetches, even the invading broom are all in bloom and wond

erful. And you can smell the flowers as you go along, often. of course, you can also smell the sawmills, and the pulp mills, and the cars and trucks. But it is better, I think.

Along the way, we found an old abandoned gas station so that Barry could fill up his bike (see photo).

We got to the ferry just after one of them had gone. This is a free ferry, goes every 50 minutes, so we waited and read the interpretative material around the ferry dock, about the pine beetle, the ecology of the area, and some tourist stuff (those of you who know me well know that I love to read these types of signs, so it was a pleasure for me).

The trip across to the other side took about 35 minutes, and was lovely, with views both up and down the lake, and snow-capped mountains in most directions. We talked with a Ger

man couple who were on their first trip to Canada, a

nd shared some insights with them.

Lunch after we docked, then of course uphill on the bikes away from the dock. Some interesting small towns along the way, including an ashram which was three kilometres off the highway, and an artists' community. But mostly what has become the common up and down roads, with less good pavement and almost no shoulder now to ride on. Fortunately the traffic was light.

And so was habitation. We had planned to go about 30 km after the ferry, and then find a place. This turned out to be less easy than we had hoped. However, Nancy came through again, with a large cabin with two bedrooms, a kitchen and bath, for $73, including taxes. Not bad!

So we settled in with our neighbours, three men with foul mouths and a propensity to start their campfires with gasoline; but a nice golden retriever dog to pet. Borscht and salad for supper, watched the CBC news (George Carlin died too soon: what a loss). And then to bed.

Tomorrow we will hopefully go past Creston and get to a town called Yahk, which I kind of remember from when I did a trip by car through here with Patrick, about four years ago. And then on to Cranbrook, to renew acquaintances with an old friend, Rocke Robertson (he fell off his chair when I called him today).

Nelson, BC

It rained hard last night, and when we woke it was almost cold. Then it rained hard again. We had fortunately decided that we were not going to go very far this day, and that seemed even wiser as the rain fell in sheets, and the lightning began. so we had no choice but to go to a nice coffee place for cappuccino and muffins. Our friends from Ottawa had felt they would take on the Kootenay Pass today (a trip of some 120 km to Creston), and even they were hesitating. But the rain slowed, they took off, and we went back to organize our stuff for the trip to Nelson (about 45 km).

I had forgotten that Castlegar is on the Columbia river. This is a big river, even there. We went up from our hotel over the overpass (that was twice in two days), past the airport, and on to Nelson along the Kootenay River. We passes several hydro dams along the way, and learned that there were actually about five of them along this part of the Kootenay. The first had been built in the late 19th Century, for the mines in Rossland. And one of the recent ones had been built during the war for the secret heavy water plant in Nelson. I took some pictures, although I am not sure how well they turned out.

Weather by now was warm and sunny, and we took our time getting to the quite 

pretty and historic town of Nelson. We are in the Alpine Motel (one of, I'm sure, thousands of "Alpine" motels in this province), overlooking the city. As I type this, it is raining and thundering again, quite suddenly and quite hard. Barry and Nancy went for a drive, but I decided to stay home, read and write, and shower. It's been a nice afternoon for me.

I am adding this later at night, after we have spent a pleasant evening in the downtown of Nelson. I have to say that Nelson is a town unlike the others we have so far seen in BC. This town has a history, and a sense of some money being spent on it. Barry tells me that it is a major part of the marijuana industry here in BC. Whatever it is, there is a sense of downtown Vancouver about the place. Very chi-chi. Lots of little friendly stores selling Indian stiff or aboriginal music or natural foods, or organic coffees. And bookstores, and a computer store that sells Macs. And two bike stores. And a  number of young people walking about (the girls have short hair, the boys have long hair). So you know that there is something happening here (even if you don't know it, Mr. Jones). And don't even ask about real estate, where a house which is quite ordinary in the area is selling for $400,000.

We had a very nice meal at the Red Fish Grill. Lots of things on the menu that were vegan, but I got the Sockeye Salmon special and it was terrific. Along with a vegetable tapas that had a balsamic vinegar dressing to die for. And a chocolate brownie with ice cream for desert.

Then walked down to the Hume Hotel where there has been a great restoration of the bar called the Library, with fabric ceilings, and comfortable chairs. We had some drinks there before coming back to the motel.

So off to bed, and tomorrow to the ferry across the Kootenay lake.

They have hills here!

Who knew? Well, I'm here to tell you that there are real hills out here. We did one of them today.

We left Christina Lake about 8 AM, after a visit to the local (good) coffee shop. (Everyplace here advertises free trade organic coffee, and of course has the full latte-cappuccino-mocchaccino-etc. menu; how can you tell you're in BC?). Initially, there was not too much in the was of climbing, since it went up the lake. But once we started to leave the lake, we were met with an 8% grade

 upwards for some time, then a bit less grade, then another 8% grade. It went on for over thirty kilometres, to the summit which is called Paulsen Summit. I don't mind saying that, even though I am now in better shape than before, I was pretty tired when I got there. As was Barry. We posed by the signs to prove we had actually done this, and then set off again.

We had been met along the way by a trio of bikers from the States, on  a three-day circuit up from Washington State and back. they left us in the dust, damn it. This work is humbling, if nothing else.

Nancy, bless her, had gone ahead, found a room, and came back to find us. She let us know that it was an easy remaining thirty or so kilometres. Even better, she was right. What goes up does indeed come down, and we coasted for over 15 km at one point. There was one or two inclines of small degree, but mostly all down, and some of it quite fun. Past forests, clear cut areas, some meadows, some streams, a lake named after Nancy Green. On into Castlegar we went.

They even have an overpass in this town. Mind you, that seems to be about all they have, it really seems a bit run down. And the motel was like that two. Built in the Fifties, renovated in the Sixties, and resting on its past vainglorious achievements; too bad, but it did for the night.

Supper at a local quite good Indian Food restaurant, back to our room for some wine and food with the friends we had met at Christina Lake, then to bed.

Boundary issues

No, this has nothing to do with psychiatry or medicine, but the US border. At Midway, we were very close to the border, and we stayed that way for most of the next day, all the way to Christina Lake.

The day was a cool and overcast day, just right for biking. The sun was out a bit, so we put on the sun block lotion. Of course, as an aging man, I now have to put some on the top of my head as well; how ungracious! The territory was now up and down, as we have come to expect. A very gradual uphill for many kilometres, followed b y the long and exciting downhill into Grand Forks.

But I'm ahead of myself on this story. We stopped along the way in the town of

 Greenwood, an old mining town (copper, mostly) from the late 1800's. Apparently, they had been doing so well back then that they even had a 1,000 seat opera house at the turn of the 20th century. And now there are many older buildings, quite nicely preserved. And most of them for sale. Barry says that this is one town that you could come into and offer a price for the whole place. There is even a Fort Greenwood (we didn't stop).

Then it was on to Grand Forks. I had decided to buy a better road map than I ha, for carrying with the bike. You would think this would be relatively easy. And the town of Grand Forks is, well, grander, than many we had been through. So it seemed a likely place. But there seems to be a dearth of cartographers in the area, or something. We stopped at a hardware store, a bookstore, a drugstore, and a fishing store. We finally gave up. There were fancy map books which show you detail you don't need, but would need a trailer to carry the book with you. And there were some regular maps which covered several provinces at once. But nothing to be found in between these. So I did without, and we pedalled on.

Grand Forks is also known for the Doukhobor influence. Some 8000 of these people came from Russia in the late 1800's, settling first in Saskatchewan. They then moved to this part of BC, bringing with them amazing farming ability, good community, and wonderful borscht. We even saw a place with "borscht to go". Unfortunately, our bikes are not equipped with cup holders, so we had to pass it up.

We went on to Christina Lake, where Nancy had out-done herself. She had for us a room off the highway, with two double beds and a partition down the centre so we could have some privacy. With a bathroom and kitchenette, and an outside barbecue and table and chairs. We were set. Since we had the barbecue, she had gotten some steaks to cook, which we happily did after the required afternoon nap. 

We also met another couple (Kevin and Carrie) who were from Ottawa, and were riding across Canada on a tandem bike, along with their 16 year old son Harrison (on his own bike). The were five days out of Vancouver, planning to do about 150 km per day, and so far managing this. We of course decided we hated them, but invited them over later for a drink and conversation. Turns out they were going about the same direction as we were, so we have agreed to meet them again in Castlegar.

Barry and I had looked at the maps, and knew we had a 1050 metre climb the next day, so we headed to bed early.

Midway

The name of the town says it all: we are in Midway tonight, at a newly-renovated (and proud of it) Mile Zero Hotel (another one, this time the start of the Kettle Valley Railway). We came 70 km today, and our total is now over 65o km. And the trip here was another tough one.

The climb up out of Osoyoos was over Anarchist Mountain, named after some scoundrel from the early 20th Century, we are told. And it is a significant climb. Twenty kilometres, and almost 1000 metres. Took us about three hours overall. But there are some signs that the thighs are strengthening: we didn't feel too badly at the top, and we averaged now about 7 kph, whereas before we were only about 5-6 kph. The scenery gradually changed from desert sagebrush to highland plateau, a lot more green for the eye's pleasure. And even some Highland Cattle on one of the farms. We were treated to a long, 3.5 km descent into the town of Rock Creek, and decided to stop for a coffee at a funky place which served us not only coffee but a brownie made with coconut flour (who knew there was such a thing?).

A short repose, then off for the final 20 km into Midway. Mostly downhill, and enough to remind us how tired we really were from the climb out of Osoyoos. We got here about 3PM.

Off to the Kettle Valley Museum, which was quite impressive for such a small town. this was also one of the towns we have visited (Lillooet is the other) that had a significant Japanese internment camp during the War. There is still a Japanese presence here, and they are proud of their heritage. Seeing the extent of the KVR makes me want again to try biking those trails. But I will need to bring the mountain bike, not this one; the trails are crushed gravel and more soft than here.

In spite of all the exercise, we were feeling a bit over fed, so decided to sit in the motel room (with a kitchenette) and eat smoked salmon, guacamole, and cheese, rinsed down with

 some red and some white wine. A pleasant time was had by all.

Osoyoos and Back

Since we had already pedalled twenty km towards Osoyoos the day before, we began this morning at about that same spot and went the rest of the way into town. This involves leaving the Similkameen Valley and climbing the Richter Pass, over several hills to give us some practice, then a long mild incline into town (lasting about 2 km). We saw a bike store and stopped for some help with directions, and to see if they could sell us a patch kit and a back light for me, to replace one I had lost. the young man was not particularly helpful with information, so we set out to find Nancy.

Barry bike had a flat! (thank heavens it hadn't happened on the way down the hill into town, but it was there now. We decided to replace it, and then met with Nancy, and biked to the hotel.

Barry and Nancy, after our lunch together, were off to visit their son in Kelowna. I phoned my brother-in-law Dennis and his partner Adele, and we set up for me to go to their place, which is kind of on the way for Barry and Nancy. So they dropped me off, and I had a wonderful visit with them as well, nicely rounding out my family attachments in the Okanagan.

After my supper with them, Denis and Adele drove me back to Osoyoos, where I waited for Barry and Nancy to come home, and we shared our experiences before all heading to bed.

Overall, a fairly short day from the point of view of biking.

The South Shall Rise Again

Today was another very wonderful day. This is getting monotonous, I know, but it's true. As I said in the blog about yesterday, we planned to get up early and get going. And early we did, up at 6:30, coffee by 7:30, and on the road by 8, and that's AM.

The ride down to Hedley was enhanced by meeting a young biker in the coofee shop in Princeton, with a nice bike of his own. Nancy chatted him up and found out that he regularly bikes from Princeton to Penticton, a distance of about 100

 km! We asked him for suggestions on a route, and he suggested a secondary road to get to Hedley, then the main highway, Number 3, on to Keremeos. We did this and were well rewarded. Saw several marmots, one coyote, a bald eagle, some magpies, and lots of other birds. And few cars and trucks. It was a very refreshing change from the highway we had been expecting. And the side of the road was full of wild rose plants which are now in bloom and add to the smell in the air. Also, of course, when you're on a bike, you can smell the newly-cut hay in the fields, and the sawdust in the wood mills. So it was a ver

y sensual experience, in the real meaning of that word.

Even though there were several good-sized hills along the way, we were amazed at how fast we got to Hedley. We had planned to go up to the mine face there.

(Now, for those of you who are now aware of this, the Hedley Mine was begun in the late 19th century when gold was found in the area. The mine face is about 1500 metres up the side of a mountain, and they dug the tunnels from there. The mine was closed in the 1960's [after something like $40,000,000 in gold was removed], and they have begun to restore the buildings at the mine face as a tourist attraction. I had read about it and wanted to see it. As did Barry.)

Unfortunately, the trips to the mine face were only on Thursday through Saturday, so we were out of luck. But we did meet a man who worked in the mine, and is now working on the restoration. He gave us a lot of information, and directed us to the mining museum n

ext door. We spent some lovely time in there, generally learning about gold mining, and the life of those folks back in the early 20th century (the Chinese cooks were paid the handsome sum of $1/day in 1913; the mason - not a Chinese person - was paid $12/day).

We biked on and met Nancy for lunch. We had just passed the 500 km mark in the trip! To celebrate, we had the first local cherries of the year. And then began our ride further down to Keremeos, a farming community near the American border. When we got there, we realized we were not that tired, and decided to bike another 20 km or so towards Osoyoos, and sto

p at a winery there for sampling. Wonderful wine, but lousy mosquitoes. Nancy met us and we let her drive us back to our motel in  Keremeos for the night.

That night, my sister Mary came down from Penticton to meet us for supper. We ate in a place called the Bistro. We were to eat outside, but it was so windy we moved indoors. We were served by a cute young waitress whose blouse was cut too low. (I told you it was a good day!)  The meal and the visit with Mary were all very good, and we went home tired and happy.

That night was very windy, and cool. I guess that is what a desert is like. I turned in early and read for a while before turning out the light. It was to be an early morning the next day.

Merrittoreous

From Merritt, we cheated a bit and got a ride up the Connector to a place called Aspen Grove. Well, we could be excused since the road is four lanes of logger trucks and massive RV's. Most of the traffic goes across the connector to the Okanagan. We wanted to avoid this part. The fact that it was all uphill at this point really had nothing to do with it.

Now, Aspen Grove is just that. There is a grove. There are actually three houses, although one of them is in the process of returning to nature, so you could say it was a tiny town. But you have to start someplace, and this is what we had picked. Nancy let us off, and we were set.

The ride down to Princeton was magnificent. The weather was almost totally clear, with the classic puffy clouds on occasion. Temperature was warm to hot, and not humid at all. The wind was mild and generally behind us. And the road was mostly downhill. Some ups, of course, but mostly down. We followed along the Allison Creek waterway. There were three or four lakes, connected by the creek. The lakes were clear, aquamarine in colour, smooth (one even had a fisherman in his boat fly-fishing; how much more classical can you get?). And to top it off, there was a long and speedy descent into Princeton, where our room was waiting with some cold beers in it. I would like to do this next month, too!

We had decided to make this a lighter day, so we stopped at about two in the afternoon. Lunch, and then a post-prandial snooze for me. Up in time for some conversation, then a shower and ready for supper.

The restaurant of choice was a place near the centre of town, and certainly in walking distance. It had been burned down (rumour has it by a competitor), and rebuilt, and was just opened. Their specials were special, and we went home full and happy. We had decided that the next day would be an early leaving, with a stop at the Hedley Mine.

On our Merritt

Cache Creek as I said, is not a spectacular place. We had decided the night before to go to Ashcroft for a nice coffee at the Buffalo Coffee house, which serves (wait for it) Cowboy Coffee. Lovely coffee, and we met an old codger who talked us about the ascent up this hill, and some of the problems he had had as a worker in the copper mine at the top of the hill. Apparently, he also asks often for money or cigarettes, but he didn't do this with Barry or I.

He had warned us about the hill, but we didn't listen well enough. I

t climbed and climbed out of town, at an 11% grade, for about 17 km. I think it should be called the Energizer Hill, because it keep going on and on. Seemed we would never get to the top: when it levelled for a while, you got hope, then it would take off uphill

 again.

I was ahead of Barry, and got to the top in time to meet Nancy, who was an angel to us poor heathen (hungry and tired). She set out a lunch and when Barry got up to us, we ate well, sat for a while, then took off for the rest of the trip to Logan's Lake. Most of this was downhill, thank god! On our right, there was what I thought was a reservoir for the town. But it went on and on, and finally I realized that it was the tailing pond for an enormous open pit mine, owned by TeckCominco, and producing co

pper like crazy. The mine went on for over ten kilometres, and there was lots of activity in it. We stopped and looked a

t their published information about how wonderful they were being with the environment, and how nice they were for everyone. It was slick, and perhaps even believable.

And then we began our long descent into Logan's Lake. It was wonderful, went on for about two kilometres, and the road was not bad. The only problem was the trucks. One of the with an extra trailer, came up behind me, geared down, and roared around me, leaving me with some sweat and the need to change my pants. But we made it down.

And on the way, we met Brendan, Barry's son, who had biked up from Merritt to meet his dad for some of the ride. It was a great surprise for Barry, and nice for us all. Nancy had carefully and secretly set this up for him.

We went on for a while, met up with Nancy again, and collectively decided that we had had enough for a day. We had travelled 76 km, some of it fairly uphill, and we were tired. We have now done about 375 km altogether.

So we put the bikes on the car, drove to Merritt, and settled into the motel. Showers for all, and out to a Sushi dinner in town, then Brendan was off home to Kelowna, and we retired to our motel room (a two-bedroom with kitchen for $95 - how does she do it?).

Tomorrow we leave for a short day, to Princeton.

Cache Creek

Lillooet is a town with a past and not much future. It was a mining town, with jade being the main thing it mined. In town, there are several jade pieces about the town, each on its own pedestal, and prominently displayed along the main street. It was also the start of the Caribou Trail, which was important during the Caribou Gold Rush in the 1800's. (They even imported 23 camels to help with the transport of goods, with no long-term success.) today, it seems to be a place to drink and party. the main street is dying. There is a good restaurant, a Greek one. But the place is for sale because the owner wants to go back to Greece. There is a good German bakery, but it is also for sale, since the owner wants to retire. There is not much else. 

We stayed at the Mile 0 Hotel, in a room with two bedrooms and a kitchen, for just over $100. It was great for us, probably not good for them.

The trip out of Lillooet involved a few hills of some steepness. And the topography had begun to change a lot, from the rainforest of the coast to the desert of the interior. We w

ere following the Fraser River initially, and it is big and fast at this time of year. The area was stunning.

Lots of RV's, many German tourists, lots of motorcycles spotted. Little other wildlife. Although we did have some butterflies following us for a while, which was kind of neat. The ride across was long, but was pretty pleasant. Lots of scenery, not much traffic and not much settlement. And I saw my first Magpie! That was a treat.

We got to the end of the road, and there was the Big Hat Ranch, but we decided to pass it up, even though there was ice cream there. Then onto the Trans-Canada for the first time, on our way into Cache Cre

ek. That was scary, with the transports and the mega-RV's going by at close range. We saw a sign for a bike shop, and thought we might stop by there for a bit of advice about our route. I was designated to do this. Drove around on the bike for a while and found a few local people who were able to help me find this guy who runs a bike shop out of his house, somewhere near the end of the town.

Now Cache Creek is something else. Nancy had found us a

 wonderful place to stay the night, two rooms for about $100. And she had found a place to eat out across the street. But the town is not too much to look at: lots of motels, occasional banks, and a place that sells leather goods to motorcycle folks. We were tempted by the leather G-string, but demurred in the end. Went for supper and then went to bed. After looking at some maps 

for the next day.

Day three, up the hill

We knew today wold be more difficult. We had a fair distance to travel, and some hills to climb. We had decided that we would not climb the ball-buster up to Duffy Lake, which is as steep as Sydenham hill and 13 km long! But there were others.

Breakfast was part of the deal at this place, so we had a large continental breakfast, getting ready for the day. Nancy got out for a run before breakfast, and Barry was pouring over maps when I got up. We had decided to go to Lillooet, which was a fair ways. We got the bikes off the car, packed them up, and were off by 9:30. Not bad for old folks. Began our ride out of town along the Lillooet River and Lake, to the point where it begins to climb up to Duffy Lake. We had arranged to meet Nancy there, and the bikes went back on the car for that ride. Even in a car, it was quite impressive, climbing higher and higher. Barry had done it three weeks before o

n his bike, also very impressive. I was not about to try. As we climbed, it got colder, and there were still some patches of snow apparent. The cedars were thinner and shorter, and we noticed that many or most of them 

began to have moss on them as well. At the top of the climb, we stopped and got the bikes off. It was cold, the temperature having dropped fro

m 16 in the valley to 8 at the top. So we suited up also, then headed off for the rest of the ride. 

Nancy went on ahead, and we were to meet her for lunch along the way. We pedalled along the Cayoosh Creek for many kilometres. The road was a bit bumpy, with little in the way of a shoulder, but also little traffic. So it was pleasant bicycling. A few logging trucks passed and waved. We stopped for photos along the way at one of the bigger streams crossing under the road, as well as one at Duffy Lake, looking back to Mount Currie. And another where there had been an avalanche 

across the road, and the snow was still there.

We met up with Nancy as planned. he had been into town and had picked up a hitchhiker along the way. She said that he was walking, and had decided to hike only because he had seen three wolves in the area (we saw none). A picnic lunch  by the side of the road, and we were all off. Nancy went ahead to find a place to stay, and we did the last 20 km into Lillooet.

The road occasionally rose before us, as they say. But the wind was behind us, and the sun was 

pleasant for us. We had some tough climbs, and some swift descents. The valley got wider, then narrower. new rock slides were seen, and older ones passes. Lots of little streams coming down the mountain. At times, we were along the creek bed; other times, we were halfway up the mountain, with a precarious drop to the side of the road. We did a hard climb for about a kilometre, then a steep ride down into town. My bike got to 62 kph, Barry's to 70 kph! But what a ride.

Day 2, on to Pemberton

Today began by having some blueberry muffins and fruit prepared by Sally, the host at the B & B and discreetly left outside our door. We had talked with her the day before, and found her to be a very interesting woman, one of three girls who grew up in  that house when it was just a cottage for the summer. That cottage is what we now stayed in, and the family had built a larger more permanent house where she and her two boys stayed. They were really in paradise, and they knew it. 

Sally talked about her rides into town, and gave us some pointers about routes. She seemed to have done the trip often before. So we listened and resolved to follow her example. The first task was to get up the hill outside the house, which rose from the shore and our cottage with a steepness that was impressive. And thankfully, short. Then onto the Sunshine Highway, towards the town of Gibson. Much of this was through forested areas, with some housing as well. You cold see the rise in real estate values in the houses: many were beyond ostentatious, while some remained quite simple. the forest had some quite amazing trees (cedars) which, although not as big as those in Cathedral Grove, still looked like stately old grandfathers. Some serious hills, and some heavier traffic than before. Nancy met us once along the way with some terrific brownies, which quite revived us after some heavy pedalling. And the road got quite busy, including with heavy trucks. (once, there was a deer which crossed the road, and the trucks stopped for that thankfully). 

Once in Gibson, we took the Marine Drive to avoid the highway, and got some lovely vistas of the sea. Met up with Nancy at the Ferry Terminal entrance, and put the bikes on the car at that point. We had pedalled another fifty kilometres, so the total was now about 120 km. The ride across to Horseshoe Bay was another quite spectacular one with scenery difficult to match. And while on the ferry, we met up again with some American bikers with whom we had biked a ways  along the sunshine coast. The had been in the area, biking the Island, and down the coast, and were on their way back to Seattle. Their bikes were seriously laden, with front panniers, back panniers, handlebar panniers, and still more gear on top of all that. But they had had a good time, and it was fun talking with them.

The Sea to Sky road from Horseshoe Bay to Whistler is being rebuilt for the Olympics, with oodles of money apparently, and no sense of the beauty they are scarring. A lot of machinery, a lot of bare rock, and some still-beautiful scenery along the way. We went into Whistler to see what it looked like. A bit too glitchy, all picture-postcard pretty and looking like a rich and disconnected city without a history. We were glad to leave, and get on our way.

So now we are in Pemberton. A wonderful little town just past Whistler. We had thought we would stop the car (which we took from Horseshoe Bay to Whistler) just after Whistler, and bike to Pemberton, but both Barry and I were too tired, so we drove. Made a quick stop at Shannon Falls on the way, to see a magnificent falls over the side of a cliff. then on

 to the town through a classic notch in the mountains, and into the Pemberton Valley. We wondered abut staying at the Pemberton Hotel in the centre of town, but it was so tacky that we took Nancy's advice and went looking for a B & B. We found one in a short time.

And found the Vineyard B & B, with a wonderful (literally wonderful) restaurant on site. And the view from the window was across a grape field with some sheep in it, over to the side on Mount Currie. How much better can you get? We had a terrific meal, prepared by two young energetic chefs (one from Alsace, and the other from Surrey in England). Plus we had a nice time. It's now almost 11 PM here, so I'm off to bed. Write more tomorrow, likely. Will probably get to Lillouet.

Well, I am now on the Sunshine Coast" of BC. We are staying at Half Moon  Bay, in a lovely B & B right by the ocean....but I get ahead of myself.

An uneventful plane trip through the Edmonton Airport to Comox. Sat beside an entrepreneurial woman from Fort McMurray who was extolling the wonders of the private medical clinics in BC, so I have a serious bruise on my tongue from biting it too hard. But we both got to Comox unscathed.

As did the bike, in its beautiful big box. A pleasure to see it come off the plane, without so much as a wrinkle. And Barry was there to meet me, with a big hug. Bags in car, and we were off to Nanoose. The weather, which had been of some concern, having been below 10 degrees and rainy, was now sunny and over 15. I took all the credit, of course.

Once at Nanoose, at the Price-Munn abode, some wonderful settling in and unpacking, and some talk. Barry and Nancy had thoughtfully arranged for some friends to come together and wish us well on our way. A few glasses of champagne, some convivial conversation with friends, some time to put the bike back together again, and I was ready for bed. I think the time was about 7:30 locally.

The next morning, I was awake on Ontario time. Which was about 5:00 in BC. We had lots of time to get to the ferry by 10, and used it to pack and talk about routes, and just talk. Decision was made to ride the Sunshine Coast, as I said earlier. The ferry went from Comox to Powell River, where we officially began to bike. It felt great! The road was good, and the traffic was light. Temperature was cool, but fair. And the inclines were relatively mild. So it was a good day.

Biked to Saltery Bay, took the ferry again to Earls Cove, the biked again to our B & B. Altogether about 62 km, and we felt it. So here we are, on an idyllic piece of Canada, looking over the Straight of Georgia at Vancouver Island, with fishing boats in the channel, and low clouds in the sky. Went for a lovely pub supper and then back home to bed.

We are off to Whistler and beyond, likely to Pemberton. Some car travel is forecast: the road up to Whistler is steep and busy, so we'll ride in the Lexus luxury to Whistler, before getting on bikes again.

I'll post this when I get some Internet connection.

this is a trial of doing the blog in a different way.