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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