So there I was, halfway over the Crowsnest Pass and, so I figured, halfway through my day. The forcast was for some possible thunder showers, but nothing so far, even though the wind was up in my face and a few clouds were blowing around.
I'd just gone through Michel when I came up on a rail crossing with a train rolling through. Pulling up alongside the first car in line, I stepped off Wheels. Something twinged in my left knee. I gave it a shake then set the foot back on the ground.
Shifting my weight onto it, the knee quite nearly gave in. I gave the leg another shake and tried to set it down again. It would not take my weight. Standing for a minute, I kept trying to place some weight on it.
As the train passed, I waited for the line of cars behind me to proceed through the crossing, then gingerly propped myself up on Wheels using my right leg, and tried to pedal. A bolt of pain ran through my body, from my knee to the back of my neck.
Quickly hopping off the bike, I tried walking, using Wheels as a crutch. Stumbling to a nearby sign post, I set the BoB up against it and stepped away.
I was on the ground in an instant! Sitting there, on the side of Highway 3, I did what I could to stretch out the left leg and lightly massage the knee. After about a half hour I was able to stand, and decided to try walking the bike for a bit. About five minutes into the walk, I tried riding, in a nice high gear.
Brushing off thoughts of returning downhill the eight K or so to Sparwood, I forged ahead, in a very low gear, barely able to put weight on the leg or knee.
While all this was going on I hadn't noticed what was happening above me, although I did notice the wind had come up rather fierce from the east.
A couple K further along a crack of thunder broke and, almost instantaneously, a bolt of lightning hit the road in front of me. I hurried to a small pull out, pulled a tarp off BoB, draped it over myself and Wheels, as the sky opened up with a half hour volley of alternating rain, hail and insane wind gusts.
My five days in Fernie were rather uneventful. It was sunny and almost too hot. I'd busied myself writing, visiting the town, listening to the owls hoot, watching the full moon, cooking dinner, sitting by the fire, and swatting mosquitoes.
The only real adventure came one evening when I decided to ride into town and watch the Stanley Cup finals at a local pub. I was there, drinking pineapple juice and enjoying a little space in the place all to myself, when two Albertan roofers came in. Immediately one of them tried to changed the channel on the TV.
"Hey Bud," I said in a somewhat bemused tone, "Whatcha doin'?"
"I wanna watch basketball," he said, rather snarkily, "you gotta problem?"
"Well Bud, these other folks (there were two older ladies there with me) are watching hockey."
"Fuggin' people, won't let you turn the TV to anywhere during hockey."
At that point a server walked into the corner and the guy took his hand away from the channel changer, which he'd not managed to work. I was relieved. Last thing I wanted to do was hassle with some weird guy about whether or not you watch the Stanley Cup playoffs, or basketball, while on Canadian soil.
A couple minutes later, after listening to the basketball dork go on and on about his job, his girlfriends, his cocaine habit, and a few people, over the noise of the rather exciting hockey game, during a break in the action, I opened up my ibook and checked my email. Right away the guy started hassling me that I was playing with my computer, not watching the game (the ladies had made their escape while I wasn't looking). I looked up to find myself alone in the corner with these two numbskulls.
I told the guy to chill and mind his own business.
He kept up.
Finally, I leaned over, and in the most aggressive voice, with the most nutbar smile I could muster, I said: 'Listen you little puke, I've had about enough of your shit. Now back off, because buddy, I'm fuckin' crazy!"
The guy's friend was terrified, and talked him into cooling it, for the mostpart. I did have to put up with a few under the table comments, but I ignored them. My ploy had worked, and I got to see the rest of the game in relative peace.
Oh, about the guy, he's a roofer from Calgary who's been contracting for his daddy in the Fernie area. He likes cocaine and his dealer is a guy called "Newfie" who also works as a roofer. He believes workers should be told to f-off when they ask for raises, and women should be knocked around once in a while, just to keep them in line. I'm not making this up! Its what he was talking about the whole time he wasn't talking at me.
He also screws up on paying his workers, and at one point some of his workers came in the bar to collect their pay. The basketball fan got his friend to pay, claiming he didn't have enough cash on hand but could go to the bank later.
I took two thoughts with me from the experience. One was, if there was a cop in the room he'll be checking out Newfie and following the roofer around. And two: I sure am glad I'm not a drunken idiot anymore.
Anyway, I was a little sad I didn't get to spend more time with my camp hosts. Last time I was there brutal rain fell and all the other campers left. They had tons of time for me as a result. This time, with the good weather, they were far to busy to socialize with the funny little guy up in Hippie Holler, which is what I call my favourite campsite in the north west corner of the grounds.
After five quiet and relaxing days I woke up Monday morning and decided it was time to roll. Besides, according to the weather forcast, if I moved, I could avoid the rain that was coming, because it wasn't going to hit southern Alberta. I was also thinking, if I could make Coleman Alberta, I'd get to watch the game at a club near the campground.
Word of advice, don't ever trust the weatherman, and don't ever make cycling decisions based on hockey games!
The morning part of the ride was good. I'd made the 35 K from Fernie to Sparwood in about three hours, and had a nice lunch with a couple other long-distance, and long in the tooth, grinders, I met up with at a rest stop.
They were heading for Newfoundland, doing about 60 K a day. Barry and Wendy planned to stop in Sparwood that night, and continue to Coleman the next, then onto Pincher Creek.
I pulled through Sparwood full of spit and vinegar. When I found out Coleman was only another 32 K, I was burning to get it done, forgetting all about the fact that the last patch between Sparwood and the Alberta border is all serious uphill.
So there I was, under a tarp on the side of the road getting completely soaked and totally unable to kneel, squat or stand up. I would have laid down, but with the pouring rain, and no way to protect myself from thewind, I didn't think it was a good plan.
The rain lasted about a half hour. It was enough time for my hyper-extended knee to recover slightly. Still, it didn't stop me from giving myself a severe tongue lashing.
Why couldn't I have just stopped in Sparwood?
Why didn't I stay in Fernie?
Why was I pushing it?
What in hell am I doing out in the middle of grizzly country, unable to walk, and barely able to ride, with a BoB full of food?
That last question gave me the impetus to keep going.
It took several hours to cover the 20 k between where I was and the Alberta border. I went over the Crowsnest in rough conditions, with a stern cold headwind, some rain, and a lot of pain.
As I came down on the border, I noticed a line of cabins alongside the highway, the Kozy Knest Kabins. I rode on by, as I would do to anyplace with the "KKK" in it. Then, as I rounded the next bend, I saw what appeared to be a giant hill. I immediately did a U-turn and went back to the KKK.
First thing the aging Kiwi behind the counter in the office said was: "What did you do to your leg?"
He gave me a deal. I got in the cabin, turned on the hockey game, and ran a bath. Outside the thunder rumbled, the lightning crashed, and the rain teemed. It was a good night. I cooked dinner, soaked the leg, and rested.
The next day I got an early start and found my way to Blairmore, where I checked into the grossly overpriced Lost Lemon Campground, and made good use of their hot tub, when I wasn't hiding in my tent from the rain, and the large group of young white men walking around with "Pro-Life" t-shirts on!
I slept lots, tons, hours and hours, half a day!
This morning, at the crack of dawn, I was up out of my tent, made coffee and porridge, as the sky lightly rained but mostly held back. By eight o'clock I'd packed everything up and hit the road, riding by the Pro-Life camp and suggesting, in a loud voice, 'if they were all so pro-life, then why weren't they out protesting the murder of hundreds of thousands of women and children in Iraq and Afghanistan, instead of hanging out with a skinhead preacher in a campground! They were all still asleep, so I doubt any of them actually heard me, but I'm hoping one of two of them picked it up in a dream.
My leg was okay, but then again I was going downhill. By 10:30 I'd done the 40 K into Pincher Creek, a land speed record for me. The weather held off, and the traffic was light, as I raced over the plateaus and up and down the coulees to the Pincher Creek turn off.
Just as I turned south into Pincher the rain and wind came up again. The last three K felt like they took the same amount of time as the whole trip from Blairmore. Wheels' gears and wheels began to make whining noises in the rain and grit. My knee began to ache. The rain got harder and wind followed. My mood sank. I checked my bank account, my mood rose. I would take another room!
Checking all over town I found the Westcastle Motel, operated and owned by a very sweet, energetic, and engaging Viet Namese woman everyone calls Anna. She's about 40 but looks 29, has three kids, employs a bunch of local natives, talks 50 words a second, and has a perpetual smile on her face.
I liked her right off, paid her the cash, and took the room. Well, I tried to take the room, but there was someone already in it, so I had to take another, which Anna cleaned right before my eyes. This woman could be the fastest cleaning lady in the world.
Anyway, the rain has continued all day long, in sheets, but has ebbed now in the twilight. It should be mentioned here these same rains nearly drowned the city of Calgary last night, and are causing the Bow River to flood out parts of Banff, something that hasn't happened in many, many years. Fortunately there was a hint of red in the sky at sunset, and the forcast is for improvement.
I have my knee on ice, my belly is full, and the Anaheim Ducks have just won the Stanley Cup right before my eyes.
Not sure what is all going on with the knee. I've over-extended it for sure, and also have some stuff going on with my back and other leg. I've been doing a bunch of yoga, which seems to help, and I'm keeping off it. Hopefully it will be a little better tomorrow, which should allow me to forge on a little further.
Looks like I'm headed towards Fort MacLead, but I won't know for sure until I get there. We'll see how the knee is tomorrow. If the weather is decent I'll either go to the local cheap campground, or I'll move on.
That's all for now. I'm wounded, but I'm still moving.
Hope you're all well.
Will
Return to Travelog Mainpage
Return to Will's Homepage