Where was I last time I wrote.
Oh yeah, I'd just escaped Edmonton and was taking on the Yellowhead Highway. It seems like so long ago.
There's only one way to do a road like the Yellowhead, #16, slow and easy. Right up to Hinton it is not such a nice road for traffic,although in places its quite beautiful.
Once I left the Evansburg area the road calmed down a bit, at leastuntil Edson, which used to be a quiet town, but a town nonetheless. Today it is a heavy construction zone full of traffic and a downtown core that could well be the mainstreet of bicycle hell. I've never seen so much debris on a street, not even Hollywood Boulevard at 4 am. I'm amazed I didn't blow a tire in the crap, riding up and down on a Sunday morning looking for an open hardware store, which I did find. Picked up
the fuel I needed and got out of town.
I'd slept the night before at the Lions Campground, which was little more than a mud flat planted with cottonwoods and pines, and not raked in a year or two. The one nice thing about it was a little gazebo I had on my site. I was able to park Wheels and BoB in there and cook dinner out of the rain. These days that park is home to a bunch of oil riggers, you know, like the bozos I met in Shaunavon earlier in the trip. They're dull as doorknobs, and twice as stupid sometimes, listening to their "my wife forgot to send the alimony again country twang songs." One quite nearly ran over my bike, trying to back his rig into the four-meter wide stall he'd been asigned. (Some campgrounds have given up on the term "Campsite" and now simply refer to them as stalls. You might say, out here in Alberta, the beef are in their stalls!).
The camp attendant, a rather rough woman of about 40, actually saved my bike for me by ordering the Yahoo out of his truck, which she quickly jumped in, and deftly guided into its stall. She was a no nonsense gal.
"Damned riggers," she exclaimed. "Guy told me he didn't know how to back up. What the hell's he doing with a rig like that if he can't back it up. Idiots!"
I felt like I had one friend in Edson, and she was running the place! It helped me sleep easier.
Did I mention its been raining here. Its been raining for a week. Not all the time, but enough of the time to make it feel like its been raining all week. And cold too, so cold I keep thinking its late September or something. I've had to light fires at night, and further insulate my sleeping quarters. In Edmonton I was sleeping in just my bag, now my bag is inside my bivy and I've got my long johns on! Heck, there was even a couple days where I had to cycle in my long johns!
I've been making mistakes too. Not running at the right time. Taking slow days when I should take long ones. Taking decent days off and pedalling on bad ones. Second guessing my sanity. Doubting my ability to do what I'm doing. Then snapping out of it and rediscovering the beauty of being a free man under a tarp with a headlamp on, staying up late in hopes of seeing the northern lights. Its difficult to see anything through cloud cover though. I'm sure those lights have been up there, I just haven't been in a place where I can see them, or if I could, I've been sound asleep from working to hard.
Made Hornbeck Provincial Recreation Area, only about 15 K, the Sunday afternoon when I left Edson. It was okay to pull into Hornbeck, but it really was one of those days when I probably should have kept riding. Fifteen K is nothing. If I'd gone another 40 I'd have had a decent day, and would have wound up by a lake in the trees. Instead, at two in the afternoon, I set up camp in Hornbeck and spent the remainder of the day cooking, eating and scribbling in my rough book.
That night it started to rain, and thunder, and lightning, and rain some more. The wind came up. Have I mentioned the wind. Its been in my face most of the past week. In my face and not so friendly!
Anyway, out of the rain and wind, when they had both died down, and I'd finally fallen asleep, came two totally out-of-it Quebeckers. They were oblivious. First I heard French-speaking voices. They seemed awful close. Then, because I didn't really understand what they were talking about, and because the conversation seemed tense, I got up out of my cocoon, cussing somewhat to myself, and in a clear and audible voice, said through the darkness; "People are trying to sleep here, could you be quiet please!"
Yes, I said please, but by that time I was out of my tent. I could see the couple setting up camp, about 10 meters away, at a location where no tent should go. It all seemed weird, but I determined fairly quickly the couple were harmless, and went back to my nest. In the morning I would clearly see the couple had parked and set their tent up in my site. I didn't really understand what was going on, but I let it be and went about making my breakfast.
When the couple got up they kept looking at me then diverting their eyes when I looked back. The attendants came by to collect money, about all they do there, and they hit the couple up for extra dough, for camping in someone elses site, then came and gave me my money back.
After a while I went over to the couple and asked if they spoke English. They did quite well. I asked what they were doing, and told them they should have at least apologized for waking me up in the middle of the night. They told a story of being lost in the rain and not being able to find a campground, finally finding Hornbeck, then not being able to find a site, although there were many all around. They went on about being cold and damp, and how the rain had got into the trunk of their car and made all their clothes wet, and how they couldn't keep warm in their tent, and were having the best day ever! Later they apologized for not apologizing, saying they were afraid I was still mad. I told them, for future reference, if they do something that makes someone else appear mad, to apologize right away. Then I suggested they pick up an extra tarp and put it under their tent at night, which would help with the cold.
Nice kids really, just not at all prepared for what they were doing, which was a rush ride across Canada.
They weren't bad kids actually, and I enjoyed talking to them. I get a bit of a kick teaching greenhorns how to camp. Our conversation was so good it lasted until 1 pm. Because I'd been awakened in the middle of the night, and because I'm really just a lazy bugger to begin with, I decided to stay put for the day. My excuse was the gusting 40 K west winds, but they really weren't a concern. I can fight the wind if I've amind too.
This was the day when I should have run. The next morning was a drencher, as was most of the night. A prairie monsoon rolled in and I woke up to a sopping wet world. Fortunately, I am a good camper and was able to pack up relatively dry, although it took a few hours hanging out in a picnic shelter to get my tent fly and tarps relatively dry. I can usually dry things out pretty quick, and have a system for keeping all my clothes and bedding out of the weather. Its a rare day when what I call, my shells, being wet slows me down. But on this morning the shells, three tarps and a tent fly, were so wet I couldn't pack them up. In the end they did dry enough to pack, but once again, it was one in the afternoon.
I rolled anyway. Looking back it was a good thing. I fought big winds the whole way. There was a steady 20 K west wind, augmented by the occasional 45K gust that pretty near stood me up a time or two. The wind blew so hard it took my mind off the hill I was climbing, which was a decent hill, not steep, but real steady.
Halfway through the day, while stopped at a rest stop, I saw something flash out the corner of my eye. Someone had made eye contact. I looked up in time to see a woman cycling hard through the wind. Then came her partner. I waved and yelled hello. They were just across a small meridian on the highway, near where I'd pulled up. I wanted them to stop, say hello. The woman didn't acknowledge me and kept on peddling. The guy waved. They were gone.
I was put out. Why hadn't they stopped? How rude! I promised myself, if I caught up to them, I'd remind them of Rule of the Cycling Number One: When you see a cyclist on a road going the same way, or the other way, you always stop and say hello, especially in the middle of the afternoon on a road where you don't see many cyclists. You never know, you may need that cyclist to slow for you at some point!
A while later, riding along in the rain, I came upon these two again, not a few K from where I'd hailed them. They were pulled over and had their bikes on the ground, fixing a flat. I rolled around them, giving as little acknowledgement as possible, trying to send a message. It wasn't the best way to handle it, but I wanted them to know how it felt. A couple days later I would catch up to them again and we would have a chat. They were nice too, but novices. I explained why they should stop, and they accepted it. Turns out they were pushing it, had become cold in the weather, and were afraid they wouldn't get to shelter on time if they stopped. Then they blew a tire, which is why they had their bikes on the ground in the rain. They told me they got the message when I rode by them, and were glad we had a chance to catch up and talk about it.
At about 5 that evening I pulled into Obed Lake Provincial Campground, where the first thing I noticed was the big red sign at the top of the road.
"Beware. Bear in Area."
There was no bear in the area, and hadn't been in some time! I know, because I checked. Before I set up a thing, I looked round and round my campsite, in widening circles, for bear crap. There wasn't a stitch of bear crap to be found, no foot prints, no broken pathways, no digging, no bear! What I did find was a lovely little campground of eight sites, set on a small aluvial fan jutting into a shallow lake, that had been abused. Woven into the ground was evidence of many parties, bottle caps, plastic beer holders, glass, soiled tissue, cigarette butts. Someone had clearly worked hard to get most of it out of there, but there was no way to get it out. I imagined successive years of grad parties on the site, with yahoos a hollerin'.
I was glad those days were gone, and I had the opportunity to camp in such a sweet little place. In the end I concluded the sign should have read: Clean up after yourselves! but sometimes the direct approach just doesn't work as well as scaring people. People often get fear, when they don't get straight talk. Straight talk is assault or abuse, like when former Canadian politician Sheila Copps called George Bush a moron. George Bush is a moron, but saying so is apparently a sin. Same crud is going down in the campground business. If'n you want people to keep their camps clean you can't say, "please clean your campsite." Instead you have to tell them there is a bear who will eat them if they don't keep it together. They get that!
Early the next morning I was up and on the road before 9 am. It was a good ride. I finished climbing the Obed Summit, and began the long strange sensation of riding down into the Rocky Mountains. No folks, that's no typo. I was actually riding down into the Rockies, which was weird. All the while I'd been psyching myself up into the idea of climbing into the Rockies, now here I was descending into them!
Hinton Alberta does not deserve mention here, but it must be mentioned, because like a pimple on a perfectly fine face, it was, is, an embarrassment. There are millions of tourists visiting the Rockies every year and at least a quarter of them are being subjected to Hinton. The lucky ones come on trains or busses, the less fortunate in automobiles or on motorcycles. While the real poor suckers experience it either on foot or on a bicycle.
With Rocky Mountains all around it, you'd think the people who live there might take some pride in the natural beauty of the place, and take care of it, but NOOO!
What's important in Hinton is the sawmill and pick up trucks and strip malls and run-down 30-year-old motels renting out for $100 a night. What matters in Hinton is money, not the fact that it is situated in one of the prettiest mountain valleys on earth! No, Hinton should not be mentioned. It should be wiped from the face of the Rockies, lanced like a boil, bandaged, and given time to heal.
No, I didn't like Hinton and was glad to get by it. I did so as quickly as possible. For those passing through, don't bother going into town, you can get all the food you need on the highway. Don't give a dime of your money to that town until they clean the place up.
Down the road aways I found a couple rough campgrounds located near a creek. They were okay but there was no water, so I pushed on. This was a nice day for a ride. Traffic was relatively light, and the road, as it nears the national park, was better kept. It did narrow to two lanes though, so I didn't have as much room as earlier in the ride. But the wind had died and the sun was coming out here and there, so it wasn't half bad. I enjoyed it and about supper time pulled into the Folding Mountain Resort, just outside the Jasper park gates.
For $23, I was provided a site that didn't have a flat spot big enought to pitch a tent on. After I complained they let me change places. Nice campground physically speaking, in a grove of pines and birch. Sadly its been ill-used and abused, and the new ownership really isn't on top of it. The showers were sketchy but hot, and the place was full of oil riggers listening to Elvis, or real sucky country music. It was sort of like Edson with trees! Just as dirty, lotsa trucks.. The fire pits were filthy, the paths unkept, the sites unraked, but with the abundance of wildflowers and overgrown pathways, it was sort of nice, and my site allowed me to not hear the highway for the first time since I’d left Edmonton. That was a treat!
In the morning I tried to talk to the owners about keeping the fire pits clean and raking the sites, saying it would help campers feel better about the place. Their focus however was on keeping the front lawns mowed and nice, so the tourists would turn in in the first place. They didn't seem to get that once they paid their money and got inside and saw what a mess the place was in,, the tourists wouldn't come back.
Seems operators don't have to worry about return customers in these parts. Its a one shot deal. Most folks only go to the Rockies once in their lives, and the operators know it. They're out to take all they can get, and don't really care if you come back, or totally dis’ them in a travelog!
Although the sky threatened some, and the wind came up here and there, so did the sunshine, as I rode into Jasper National Park, along the wide turns beneath the Palisades, past the numerous lakes and finally out onto the Athabasca River. It was a lovely spin with the granite faces of the mountains on all sides, the emerald river, the mountain goats, and the raw naked beauty of the lands and forests. On top of it all the road was basically level, I wasn't climbing or descending, just rolling.
Mid-afternoon I pulled into Jasper. About the only thing in town I recognized was the Athabasca Hotel. To tell the truth, its about the only thing I ever knew about the town. There's so much more to the place, but what I remember is the outside of the hotel where I'd done some serious drinking at various points in my past.
Sadly, Jasper to has its issues. Like Hinton, the operators are only in it for the money. Unlike Hinton, because it is in the national park, those operators are required to maintain certain standards. The place is clean as a result, and relatively foot and bicycle friendly, although one must watch out for wild men in Winnibegos who will stop in the middle of the road at the sight of so much as a chipmunk!
Also sadly, the town knows it is the only show around, and the tourists pay through the nostrils as a result. A can of gas that sells for less than five bucks, even in Hinton, costs nine here. A washer load of laundry is four dollars before the soap. There is a decent grocery store, and a Home Hardware, where prices are relatively okay, but the rest of it is outrageous. Cheapest room you can get is in a private home and costs over $100 a night. Camping starts at $21, without a fire, or a car, but it is clean and safe.
I have some issues. I pay taxes, the GST mostly, but I get dinged everywhere, and the money I get dinged for goes, in part, to the national parks. Its sad the only people who can really afford to come here and take advantage of the place are wealthy, or in debt up to their ears. Meanwhile, the folks working here could never afford the place, and many of them are forced to live in less-than-desireable conditions, eight people in a four bedroom apartment for example.
As I understand it, the national parks are supposed to be for everyone, not just rich folks from other places. As far as I'm concerned there should be price limits here, enforced fair wages, and access for low income people. For so long as the entrepreneurs are allowed to go on gouge fests, then this place isn't for everyone, and that's not fair. What's worse is, there's rich people here driving bloody hummers up the side roads! There definitely should be a law against Hummers in the national parks. Hell, there should be a law against Hummers period.
So, here I am in Jasper, in the Whistler campground, with some other cyclists scattered around me. The weather has been not half bad, and today I managed to do some bicycle sightseeing out to the old fort, in the direction of Edith Cavell Mountain.
Funny incident; as I was sitting up late, writing you all this letter, I suddenly heard some noise behind me in the darkness. It was the sound of feet, coming up real close. I nearly jumped out of my skin! Shouting, I attempted to get up off the picnic table but caught one of my legs in it. I wound up falling off the picnic bench, seriously bruising my right outer thigh. Big purple bruise, and a bit of a charley horse!
What was it scared me so thoroughly. Why the resident herd of Elk of course. They came right up into my campsite from the adjacent meadow. I didn't hear them until they broached the tree line right behind me. Its one of the things I love about the mountain parks.
Sadly, the forecast is for the weather to tube, and for more cold and rain. It was down to two degrees last night, or more correctly, this morning. Tell ya, I was bundling up for morning coffee! As much as I'd like to hang around and do some serious grumping, animal befriending and revolutioneering, in this place, I probably have to move on pretty darn quick.
I'm looking at the time, late August. My birthday, September 2, is only days away. I'm also looking at mileage charts. I don't think I have the time to ride to Rupert, not unless I want to get caught in the fall rain. My money is also depleting, I'm cutting into my reserves now. This last stretch, since Calgary, has been expensive. Yup, they're richer in Alberta but they pay more for everything too. I'm also getting a little tired of this early autumn I've been experiencing, and am strongly inclined to go south. I've already done the Banff-Jasper route and, with the last weekend of the summer just around the corner, the traffic down there is likely to be insane. So I'm probably going to do the run to Kamloops, down Highway 5.
But you never know.
Hope you're all well.
Talk to you soon.
Will
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