Travelog 4

Hey Folks,

    There is a faint whisper of red in the western sky. I've just ate my dinner, tomato and other vegies with cornmeal, spinach and noodles. It was delightful after a long day's ride. I'm on Lake Koocanusa, a man made lake, in the southeast corner of BC. I have been through days and days of rain and cold weather, but today was absolutely gorgeous. So gorgeous, I took a couple hours off my bike to lay in the sun.
    Rode out of Riondel two days earlier than planned. Actually, it was almost night. The work was done and I was riding in circles on the road out in front of my friend's house, telling myself I had to prep before actually riding. Hours later I decided I was fooling myself and was actually ready to ride.
    When I left my K-nine pal Puddy, tried to follow me. I barked at her, GO HOME! Later I would feel very bad. I should have stopped, given her a parting hug, then told her to GO HOME! Alas, if I'd done that, she'd have followed me over hill and dale.
    Surprised myself that evening, doing 30 K more than I planned and winding up in Lockhart Park, halfway down Kootenay Lake. It was the Sunday of the long weekend, with the holiday Monday. Traffic was thick when the ferry let out, but otherwise it was a nice ride around the bends and up and down the many hills.
    Set up camp, had a good feed, and felt good to be finally on the road again. The next day wasn't so good. Being the holiday Monday, all the Alberta winnibegos in the world were barrelling down that road like their houses back in Calgary were on fire! I rode a couple hours but when I reached a place called Holbrook Motel I decided to get off the road. Some years ago I'd stopped there and the woman had let me her gazebo, she'd even brought me some of her homemade banana cream pie.
    Sadly, the woman is gone and she's no longer baking pies. In her stead she has left her husband, a useless lout of a man with an ill mannered dog. There was no way he was going to let me stay in his gazebo, but offered me a discount rate on one of his motel rooms. I took it, big mistake! Since the wife's been gone, so has the chamber maid, and that might well have been one of the most un-hygenic spaces I've ever stayed in. I was afraid to crawl between the sheets, and slept, partially clothed, atop them. When I went up to get info on how to operate the TV, the ill-mannered dog actually tried to take a bite out of my shin. Fortunately it was a bit of a chilly day and I had leggings on. So I got a scratch instead of a tear.
    Next morning the traffic had ebbed and I set out once again. It was a lovely ride up and down and all around until I finally pulled into Creston in the middle of the afternoon. Stocking up on groceries, checking email, and stopping into the local tourist infocentre, I found out about a little campsite up Lister Canyon Road that apparently would have no services but be very nice, and cheap. The lady at the centre called ahead for me, and I set out.
    Lister Canyon Road runs from Highway 3 down to near the US border. It crosses the canyon on the Goat River, winds up a long hill, and then heads out along a ridge. It was a bit of a tough slog at the end of the day, but I was looking forward to being in a small unserviced site. However, just as I reached the place a big rotwieler came ripping out of a neighbouring yard and chased me. It stopped when I drove in past the sign that said Cedar Grove. The unserviced site by the river turned out to be someone's back yard, and there was no one around. I got the weirds so I decided to double back to the highway and find another place. I had to deal with the dog again. It was waiting at the end of the drive.
    Loosing my pepper spray from its holster, I bellowed, much louder than I had at Puddy. The dog in turn, finally got the idea that chasing me might have negative consequences, and gave it up.
    Spinning back down the road, which many people were using as a dragstrip, I pulled into what used to be Little Joe's campground but is now the Mountain Park Resort.
    Listen kids, if the place is calling itself a "resort" it means its over-priced and under-maintained, and probably has more in common with a parking lot than a campground. However, I was tired, and I needed a little resorting time. I paid up, set up, and slept to the whine of semi trucks the whole night long. Some poor bugger got some idea in his head he wanted to own a resort so he bought the worst campsite in Creston, changed the name, poured a pile of money into bulldozing the place and rebuilding the infrastructure, and now has a sign out front advertising his new resort, free internet (which wasn't available), hot showers (shared with very filthy workmen and located in their flop house), and a family atmosphere (which consisted mostly of half drunk young men riding around in back hoes). I give the guy a year or two before either the bank forcloses, or he figures out that he owns a roadside flopping place that probably should be turned into a trailer park.
    Next day I let out early and climbed the 40 K hill up to Yahk, where I arrived in a burst of thunder, lightning and hard rain. Fortunately my favourite Yahk campground attendant was there, and did everything she could to make me feel comfortable for the night. Next day, the clouds formed again and unleashed a rather nasty hail storm, giving me cause to pause, and stay put. I slept that night to the sound of a rushing river and a lonely owl hooting. Mercifully, the next morning, the sky cleared and I was able to load up again. It was another nice ride, up and down and around the bends to Moyie Lake, where I set up in a lovely pine forest, had another of my great camp dinners, sat up late trying to write poetry, and slept like a baby.
    In the morning I got up, packed, and made my way to Cranbrook where I'd planned to do a quick shop before heading further east, to Wapiti Lake, near the Kootenay River crossing between Wardner and Jaffray. But once again, just as I pulled into Cranbrook, the sky ripped open, the thunder rumbled, and I gave serious consideration to renting another motel room.
    It was a good thing I opted to camp instead. The camp fees were outrageous, for a filthy campsite, but, as it turned out, the rain lasted three solid days and I paid for three days what one night in a motel would have cost.
    While in Cranbrook, I looked up an old friend I've intended to look up for many years. We had a falling out about 20 years ago, towards the end of my drinking career. I'd offended his wife, upset his family, been a drunken lout and an idiot. We've encountered one another in the years since, but there was always a strain. Its been a sad thing.
    Again, years have passed since we last met up, but the timing must hve been right because we did get together finally, for a few hours last night. My friend has been in Cranbrook over 20 years now, raised a family, stayed married to the same woman, and now works in the local Home Hardware, doing what he calls a "McJob". It was nice visit, polite, but staid and a little sad. We used to really be able to talk. Now its all about hockey, or politics, and the subject gets changed when it comes around to what happened. We were cordial, and it was nice to see him looking well, but the knowledge that we lost something remains brooding, just underthe surface.
     I've looked up a lot of old friends over the years. Sometimes its been a huge mistake, a let down. Other times its been special, a reunion, a warm and productive experience. This time it was neither. Perhaps with time. The fellow was a good friend, a confidante. I was a bad drunk at the end, it may take some time, it may just remain as it is. Still, I think it was right thing to do, to take the time.
    Today, I finally made Wapiti. That's where I took my sun bath. It was lovely there in the wilds with the Rockies in the distance. The lake was calm like glass, the sky clearing, the sun warm and the place was deserted. I was going to stay there but then I noticed one of my water bottles missing. Wapiti is not a place you can be without water. It is dry ranchland. The lake is tepid, and not drinkable. I had to either find the water bottle, or move on to a campground with a water supply. Good news is, I found the water bottle, but by time I did I'd already climbed up the long road out, and decided to keep going.
    My day wound down riding the long quiet hills on Baynes Lake Road. Surprisingly, despite the recent lay off and days of rain, I was in good riding condition and made the last 16 K in about one hour, which is six K an hour faster than my average these days. I pulled in here with enough time to set up, make dinner, and sit down and write this travelog.
    Sunset is complete now. The first star is up shining brightly in the western sky. I am alone in this part of the campground, near a small stagnant lake. I've seen no sign of the camp attendant. Guess there's just not enough of us campers out here in the middle of week at this time of year for someone to get paid to come around and check on us. Its a lovely evening, quite warm, and nicer than its been since my trip began.
    By time you all get this mailing I'll be in Fernie, or at least I think that's where I'll be. I likely won't find an internet connection until I get there at any rate, which should be tomorrow, Wednesday. Not sure what the plan will be from there. I do want to stop and visit some of the folks I've met there through the years, so I'll likely stay the weekend.
    By early next week I'll be rolling again, methinks out on to the wide prairie. I'll know when I get there, and so will you.
    Hope you're all well.
    Don't forget to write me once in a while and let me know if you're loving, hating, or at least reading with passing interest, these diatribes of mine.
     Hope you're all well. I am!
Will

PS: I've safely made Fernie after a rough ride over the River Road from Elko, which has left me with a blistered butt and sore legs. Good news is I've been warmly welcomed and had a good night's sleep under the waxing moon, amid the glistening spires of the Canadian Rockies. I've even sprung for a new seat, its called the "Limo", which is what my butt needs, a limo! w.



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