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| At the top of the Continental Divide |
The tallest
of trees begins to thin. The snow upon the peaks recedes. The land begins to
drop as the lush green valley’s spreads its mighty girth. Even the air smells
different, laced with thick wheat and canola field pollen. It is without a
doubt my rocky mountain crossing is coming to an end, not abruptly in any sort
as one loathes the flatness of the plains for nearly 1000km’s of treacherously
steep mountain passes. An end which is welcomed but will thoroughly be missed.
The feeling of threading through these giants of the world is something in
which can only be imagined but hardly explained. The sheer mass and beauty is
neither shy nor inaccessible in these parts as we are reminded of our
inferiority to these giants in which surround you upon your journey through. Healthy
and in good spirits I am welcomed to the gateway of the Canadian prairies without
incident, it’s not always the case as these lands are still lurking with wild
beast and natural disasters around every corner. This is how my journey went.
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| Walwa Falls 40km outside of Golden |
Leaving
Revelstoke was tough as it remains my favorite mountain town but it was time to
push on. I had been procrastinating leaving for a few days already to avoid the
heavy rain showers that continued to fall but I realized that cycling for 3 or
4 months I would need to toughen up and get on with it, and considering what I’m
dealing with now, a rainy day would be praised beyond belief. I cycled a good
five hours stopping in at every board walk and nature walk along the way.
Cycling is a great way to force yourself to do all the touristy crap because
your ass and legs are screaming for any reason to take a break. Making sure to
read every plaque and information board slowly and deliberately for the sake of
time rather than absorbing the information. Rogers pass was next up. I had read
a lot about it and heard from other people how treacherous It was so it was anticipated
beyond reasonable doubt. The steep climb only lasted about 5 km before I pulled
out of the rain cloud and found myself at the summit fully relieved. At the top
I found 3 young guys on Canadian tire mountain bikes carrying skate boards,
hatchets, water, and of course a few ounces of marijuana. They passed the pipe
to me for a hit but I had to decline as getting stoned before descending the
other side of the mountain at 70km/h seemed like a bad idea. I have to admit though that cycling from Calgary
to Vernon to fruit pick for the season with nothing but skateboards and weed is
pretty ballsy so hats off to those fella’s.
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| ahh shit.. |
With 10km to go into Golden the
highway information screen flashed up before my eyes “Multiple wash outs ahead”
“Route #1 closed east of golden” Well shit, all that rain I had been hiding
from a couple days before ended up washing out roads, bridges, and towns down
the track, luckily though I was in good hands as a good friend of mine I met in
Vietnam offered his house for me to crash in where I met some awesome people
and drank way too much. It was going to be at least a week before the road
would open again and the only other road would take me 700km out of the way in
the direction that I had just came. River rafting, mountain biking, and
partying were all good reasons to hang tight and let the road crews do their
thing. I spent most of that week building and setting up dance platforms,
teepees, stages, and bars in the forest for one of the coolest Canada day
parties I’ve ever been to. 13 Dj’s 300 people and lots of drugs kept the party
going from 7 pm to 8 am (at least that’s when I passed out). Golden was my last
frontier for partying and getting crazy as the next couple months will be only
about getting fit, healthy, and smashing off kilometers. No more messing
around, its time to get some real km’s on these wheels.
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| At the entrance to Lake Louise Village |
I
left Golden early afternoon which was a bad idea as the weather went from cold
and rainy straight into a heat wave of high thirties. The climb out of golden
is in no way for the faint of heart either starting off with a section of road literally
called “Ten mile hill”….FML. I didn’t make it more than 20km before ditching my
bike on the side of the road and hiding under an animal overpass crossing to
hide from the sun. I snuggled up on a cold hard piece of concrete and fell
asleep regardless of the motorcycles and trucks wizing by a few meters away. I
waited for the first shadows to be cast upon the mountains before getting back
on the bike and cycling a measly 20 km more to the base of Kicking horse pass,
the final frontier of the Rocky Mountains. It was already 9:00pm and I was really
contemplating suffering the next couple of hours to the top and leaving myself
a cruisy day ahead but my body protested and I’m glad I listened to it, I would
have never made it in the condition I was in.
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| Lake Louise |
I didn’t waste any time the next
morning waking up at 4:00am to cook a hearty mr noodles and hitting the 12km
hill before the sun could hit me. I hadn’t heard anything about this pass at
all but it turned out to be the most extreme elevation gain of 6.6% in all the TransCanada
highway. The Rail Way had nic-named it “The big Hill” being the most fatal and
dangerous section of track where runaway trains and derailing’s were often and disastrous.
I’m not sure exactly how long it took me to get to the top but the sun was high
above the horizon and already licking the sweat from my arms when I reached the
peak in a sweaty panting heap in a half-conscious state. I made it! At the top
was the continental divide and the border into Alberta, the peak of my climbing
had been reached and all water flows to the Atlantic ocean 6000 km due east
from here. It was a great feeling knowing that the mountains I had just spent
the past month lingering in had been conquered; I won’t be seeing anymore
hardcore hills for at least a couple thousand km’s into northern Ontario.
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| Summit of Rogers Pass! |
Lake Louise was my next stop down
the road for some food and rest. I wanted to take the old highway down because it’s
closed to traffic but the barricades told me there was grizzly bear research
being done and it was closed to everyone. Normally I’m more rebellious but for
some reason it didn’t seem worth the risk. There was no messing around on the
way down though as I followed the gradual slope of the river into Lake Louise
it almost felt unnatural to be cycling without so much resistance. The mountain
training paid off as my legs pumped hard at a steady 40km/h. being in high
spirits and stoked to finally be going downhill into Calgary I decided the extra
10km round trip from Lake Louise Village to the Lake above was worth it. I had
seen it before in the winter and wanted to see the summer perspective so I set
off up the hill….. Worst mistake ever. Looking back now I would have paid $50 to
get a drive up because the 5km climb at 8% grade nearly finished me off. I
stopped several times on the way up to roll into the grass and catch my breath
and stop my heart from exploding out of my chest. I got passed (slowly mind
you) by hard core cyclists with fully dropped jaw in awe of this retarded kid
with an army helmet pushing a touring bike loaded with 105lbs of gear up the
hill. I good round of high fives and cheers welcomed me at the top however.
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| The loaded up Canadian tire bikes |
It was nice at the top as expected
but the hordes of tourists snapping the iconic Lake Louise photo was a bit of a
turn off so I high tailed it down the mountain flying past cars, and other
cyclists making sure not to waste any of that hard work I put into getting up
there on rubber from my brake pads. At the bottom I was starving and my hands
were quivering from over exertion, it was nearly mid-day and the sun was
relentless so I stopped into a restaurant and loaded up on a burger and beer. I
made it through some of my fries and most of my burger before passing out cold
on the window bar. I was asleep for 45 minutes before the bar tender startled
me with an offer for another beer. I had only 60km to go all downhill into Banff
and the shakes had gone away so I pushed on out of Lake Louise early afternoon
despite the heaving sun above. I had my bike clicked into low gear feeling
great for cruising at 35km/h on the flat sections and even more on the downhill’s
but the sun was just too much. I couldn’t seem to physically drink enough water
to replenish what I was sweating out. At one point I crawled down to a nice
cool snow melt river to drink and passed out again on the river bank in the
direct sunlight. The day got hotter and hotter; one perk was spotting four
grizzly bears frolicking in a field just off the highway which was surprisingly
only the second time in my life to see a wild bear and the first time ever for grizzly’s.
I was able to get within 15 feet of one for some incredible photo opportunities.
At last I’m in Banff meeting up
with an old friend I met in Australia. Hiding from the sun and recovering from
heat exhaustion things are looking good and I’m on pace now to get back home.
The days are way too hot to be cycling so my new strategy will be cycling
throughout the night across the parries and hiding in the shade during the day.
Next stop, COW TOWN!
I’ve
been wanting to write more about this bike trip, to document it properly, to
explain the obstacles only present in an endurance of this scale however when I
write about the day to day events, I find myself at a loss for creativity and
excitement. As I’ve hiked 1000km, kayaked 2500km, been lost in the mountains of
Papua New Guinea to name a few, I never have to second guess myself as if I can
accomplish this trip with previous endeavours like those under my belt. Yes,
prior to this cycle I’ve never ridden a bike further than 40km in a day but
anyone with great perseverance will know that they will make it to the end, no
matter what, even if it means slugging out thirteen hour days of back breaking
work for four months straight, or longer, whatever it takes, I will make it. So
when a decision is made to cycle across Canada, that’s final, it will happen
and I won’t give up until I either finish or get killed trying. It might sound
a little dramatic but when you’re soaked through lying in a cold dark tent
huddled in a wet sleeping bag as you listen to the wind howl in the trees
above, the same wind that’s impeded on your progress for the past four days, it
takes a constant reminder that dying trying is much more honourable than giving
up on your dreams. It’s not that the fame of cycling across Canada is worth dying
for, rather its dark lonely moments in a tent like these that make the rest of
my life worth living for.
I hate writing
anything without meaning. Meaning for me is something that comes from the heart
and can be implied every day for the rest of our lives, so as I rewrite this
now I’m scraping the 3000 words bellow that I just spent the past four hours working
into an adventure about the events between Saskatoon and Winnipeg. I’ve
realized that this cycle trip is tough, I mean really tough but contrary to
what most people might get out of a trip like this is not a self-discovery of
overcoming physical feats, it’s an emotional journey for me to reconnect with
the people in my life which have meant so much to me in the past and of course
meeting new and interesting people along the way. Being gone from my family for
three years I can honestly tell you there were times I thought I would never
see them again. There were times when I lay on a bamboo shelter in the jungle
not knowing if I’d see the light of day tomorrow, there were times on the beach
when I saved people and gave them another chance to see that light again, and
there were times on the road when I witnessed people who would never wake up to
see that light again. Now as I’m already half way across Canada it’s slowly
starting to reveal itself. Every time I drive by a lake I’m reminded of my
summer home in which is the catalyst for my love of the outdoors. Every time I
sip a coffee I can smell the slow drip pot in my parent’s kitchen brewing a
fresh cup. Every time the daisy seeds blow in the wind, they swirl like flakes of
snow dropping from the sky at the Halifax waterfront on Christmas eve. These
are my memories and each and every day they get stronger and more vivid. It’s a
horrible aching tease for myself to want these things so bad and yet I throw in
more obstacles to overcome before getting what I really want. I often times
wonder why I couldn’t have just bought a plane ticket and see my family again.
I often times wonder what I’m holding myself back from. What am I going to find
at the end of this trip that I’m so afraid to see that I need to spend four
months on a bike clearing my mind and writing about it. What is it that we all seek
in life but are afraid to find? 
On a trip
like this it only really starts getting tough when your mind becomes harder to
push than your muscles. On average I spend ten hours a day on a bike, prying myself
awake at 4:00 am when everything is still soaking wet, cold, and uncomfortable.
The early morning clouds offer no protection from the plagues of mosquitoes
piercing my skin in hundreds of different locations and sucking that precious
hard earned blood from my body. My back is sore from the log beneath my tent,
the third time this week. The passing trucks during the night would lay on
their horn when spotting your tent off the side of the road, just to be dicks.
When the trucks don’t wake me, the curious moose, rodents, and mice trying to
get into my food will. All a great nuisance however trying to cycle against a
25km/h or more head wind is the biggest moral thief I have ever experienced. Cycling
hours into a head wind only to gain a measly 30km on the day is enough kill your spirits and send you into a
depression. I had my first mental break down on my way across the prairies last
week when I fought these conditions day after day. Eventually I couldn’t push
on and I spent an entire day huddle in a cold wet tent all alone, contemplating
my motives to finish this trip and contemplating pulling the plug on my entire
adventure. I know better though, I’ve been among these ruins before and it won’t
be the last for this trip, hang tight relax and things will get better, they
always do. In hindsight I’m glad I have
days like that because it makes the good days really good and ultimately when I
do finish this trip Il remember every one of those thoughts and be happy I pushed
through and didn’t give up. The reward is worth the misery.
On a
7000km bike ride your own mind and will power will most definitely be your
biggest obstacle however from time to time some broken equipment can be a good
distraction from the emotional side of it. My bike has been increasingly impressive.
Each day I realize the bike I’m riding is much more capable than the legs that
push it along but everything has its breaking point and as my legs get
stronger, the hardware on my bike gets weaker. As I was chugging along down the
#1 highway into Winnipeg the dreaded sound of a crack pierced through the
hollow swoosh of cars and trucks blowing past my shoulder. Instantly my front pannier
buckles and mangles itself into my front tire with bouncing metal against metal
as the front spokes repeatedly hit the front pannier rack PING* PING* PING*. The
constant bumps, bangs, and vibration from the imperfect roads between Vancouver
and here have paid its toll on the lightweight aluminum front rack. The main
support bar sheared off leaving my front right pannier in a sloppy flopping
mess. Having done 195 km already that day I opted to throw up my thumb and
hitch hike into Winnipeg where I could find a bike shop to have it replaced
with a new strong one.
Winnipeg
has been one of my favourite stops to date. Having no expectation what so ever
and knowing nothing about the city at all set me up for a great surprise when I
was greeted and hosted by my friend Bailey who I partied with in Vietnam for a
week. Let me tell you that the location in which we find ourselves in has no
effect on the amount we party, and partied we did. I’ve had an incredible time
this week being shown around the city and exploring bars, geocaching, and
riding the many bike trails that zig zag the city. I was so surprised to find
so much culture and diversity here with an apparently limitless amount of
things to do. The city has done a great job of keeping green spaces and public
facilities, it almost seems as if every park has a little concert, show or
gathering going on in it. I really like it here and I think I’m lucky to have
been shown the things I have in the amount of time given, as an east coaster Manitoba
is the black sheep of Canada and I’m so happy to have seen it with my own eyes
and experienced it with my own hands. I spent an entire day at mountain
Equipment Co-op where I met and hung out with the mechanic. I spent the entire
day tuning up my bike in his shop as I replaced my broken front rack, put on a
new back tyre and tube, and had my rear hub rebuilt cleaned. It’s been a great
stop for me to drink up, sleep in and prepare my bike for the longest most
isolated section yet, northern Ontario. Time to push off and head for the border
into the USA where I’l reconnect and make my way into Ontario. Its been swell
Manitoba but its time for me to push on and close the 2300km gap between me and
my friends in Toronto. 
