The Route

After much back and forth negotiation, my trusty cycling friend and I have selected this year's cycling itinerary.  What my buddy calls "The Best Of" reel.  The idea being to cycle to our favourite places along the Kettle Valley Railway.

On the way to Tulameen

 

Usually we will pedal 65 to 70 kilometers in a day and once with our friend Richard, we managed 85 kilometers to a place called Keremeos.  My road biking friends don't think much of this achievement until they discover that we were carrying 40 pounds of gear strapped to our bikes.  And that is without the added weight of water. 

Near Oliver

There are so many things that we want to do that it has been challenging to fit it all into seven days.  At my daughter's garage sale a fellow buying a bike seat asked me if I was involved with "all this" while he pointed to the many bikes hanging from the rafters.   He looked shocked to find out that we plan to ride 400 kilometers on this trip and he was even more surprised when I declared "Well we have seven days!".

The scenery near Christina Lake

 

Highlight Reel #2

My last blog mentioned all the places we've ridden our bikes through that I wouldn't want to have to cycle again.  These places aren't so bad - it's just that there are so many other places to visit in B.C. that are better.

Midway for example looks like a ghost town from the Crowsnest Highway, yet only a few blocks south, a well tended campground lines the banks of the clear-running Kettle River.  Two summers past, Roy and I spent a relaxing few hours in a canoe drifting down that river quaffing cold beer and conveniently ending our excursion right at our campsite.

Midway campground

For years I've wanted to find the enchanting Mascot Gold Mine that clings precariously to the ridge of a mountain high above the town of Hedley, B.C.  It was a hot day a couple of years ago when we rode our bikes down the Crowsnest and pulled off the highway into Hedley.  It was a relief to find an air conditioned restaurant downtown that took us out of the blistering heat.  After lunch I managed to buy a poster of the mine which the vendor wrapped carefully in a cardboard tube and I managed to strap to my panniers and carry around for the rest of our trip.

The poster

 

Cascade in the Kootenay Boundary area has a long trestle to ride your bike over that offers a bird-eye view of the swimmers swinging from a rope into the blue green waters of the gorge far below.  Many times we have gotten off our bikes to enjoy the view and have an impromptu contest to see who could take the best picture of someone splashing into the fast moving water.

Swimming under the trestle

After some discussion on the phone, it looks like we have come up with a plan that includes Brookemere, a place we've never cycled to and a dozen places where we've had adventures ranging from having our campsite deluged in the middle of the night by an irrigation system to being handed a large caliber rifle by a local farmer out for a stroll with his dogs. Whatever happens, you’ll be sure to read about here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

The "Best Of" Reel

My steadfast cycling partner Roy suggested that for this year’s bikepacking trip we do a “Best Of” tour.  The idea is that we each make a list of our favourite cycling adventures that we’ve had together over the last six years and create a whole new pedaling holiday.

My partially completed list is already fairly extensive.  It was challenging to pick and choose since I’ve enjoyed so many of the places that we have cycled through.  Mind you, there are a few places that would never make my list.  Like Bridesville – a dumpy spot on the Crowsnest Highway.  Or Tulameen where we arrived with visions of a hot plate of fish and chips only to find out at the restaurant they were out of fish. 

Bridesville

One place I’d avoid is the section of trail between Eholt and Greenwood where someone has blocked the trail and the detour involves a long backtrack to the highway.  Riding back over already – ridden trail isn’t so bad except you have to ride past a clutch of ornery Llamas that have squatted right smack in the middle of the trail itself.

Pie at Greenwood

Off my list is Anarchist Mountain.  I have made the summit there three times in very hot weather and I don’t have anything to prove to anyone about that edifice.  Having said that, Roy and I did make the summit once riding in the cab of a pickup with our bikes and camping gear stowed safely in bed of the truck.  20 minutes versus 6 ½ hours.

Roy's picture of me climbing Anarchist

I’ll keep shaving my list down before Roy and I compare notes and come up with a plan.  I know that my intrepid cycling partner has enjoyed many of the same locations as myself.  Perhaps part of our plan will be to cycle to Tulameen and have fish and chips.

Factor X

Someone once said that no battle plan survives contact with the enemy. Some other brainiac said that the best laid plans of mice and men... I call it the X factor. The one element not planned for but changes everything.

I thought I had everything in order for this year's SteamPunk ride except for dicking around with my SteamPunk attire. The pith helmet was ready after I used carpenter's glue to fasten a dollar store cowboy hat into the helmet's insides since it's liner had been eaten away from years corrosive, salty sweat. Next I opened the vehicle's doors where I was storing our decorated bikes and I discovered my atomic power boosters on the floor. My carefully placed circuit boards lay scattered like a house of cards that has collapsed. Stands of wire ribbon were strewn about the car's interior. The temperature inside the car must have been well over 40 degrees Celsius.

All the glue gun glue holding all my accesories had dripped down my folding bike in patterns similar to old candles from horror movies. And horrified I was to discover this mess with only minutes to go before my daughter Jackie and I were to leave for this year's SteamPunk bike ride.

What to do? What to do? I forgot that a person was not supposed to panic in a situation like this. My frantic search for the glue gun failed to produce any results. I blasted into my wife's woman cave and hastily shoved aside stacks of papers and files. A quick survey of her space came up negative.

Jackie was busy talking to someone at her garage sale and I rudely interrupted her to find out that she had no idea where my pistolet a colle was to be found. She offered her gun if I had the time to sort through the myriad of boxes in her part of the basement. No time.

In my desperation I decided that since my glue gun wasn't where I thought it would be, then the logical thing to do would be to check where I thought it wasn't. Why look on the tool rack where years ago I had so carefully traced the gun's outline in magic marker? I never put things back where they belong!

They say that necessity is the mother of invention so I invented the novel thought that perhaps for the first time in my life I had put something away where it was supposed to go. Jackie was giving me a minute by minute countdown as to when we needed to leave and it was with seven minutes to go that I found my glue gun. On the tool rack. Even on its designated black markered silhouette.

While I was only able to mount one nuclear reactor on my bike and my circuit boards flapped off my bike frame as though they had wings of their own, I did manage to thwart the X Factor and ride one of the two decorated bikes in the SteamPunk Ride.




　
  　

　

　

Full Steam Ahead

A light rain had given the roads and sidewalks a lustrous sheen and the mud puddles reflected our unusual outfits and our decorated bikes as my daughter Jackie and I waited at Sanctuary Curio Shoppe for other SteamPunk enthusiasts to show up.

We waited outside the store for a long while before we decided that we were going to be the only two cyclists to brave the wet streets.  Before we mounted our SteamPunk bikes to begin the ride, we awarded all the prizes to ourselves.  Jackie won a posh set of goggles for having the best dressed up bike and I won the much coveted CITY TV prized pack for best moustache.  I awarded Jackie the valuable Sanctuary gift card for the biggest hair and she presented me with a coupon for sound and light therapy from Golden Lady Wholistics just for showing up.

When we turned onto Whyte Avenue we nearly fell off our bikes in surprise at the crowds that lined both sides of the Avenue to witness the 2013 SteamPunk bike ride.  My face hurt after six blocks of smiling and my right arm began to go numb from waving to the mass of citizens wanting to see us ride.  Jackie was laughing the whole way.

We got a break from the multitudes when we crossed over the High Level Bridge and in my joy, the bridge itself appeared to be hundreds of feet higher as it spanned the glacial blue waters of the North Saskatchewan.

The sidewalks along Jasper Avenue were lined with brightly coloured barricades to keep the throngs of well - wishers in check so that we could pedal our way to City Hall without delay where the Mayor was waiting to hand us the keys to the city and proclaim this day as Edmonton SteamPunk Day.  We had so many ticker tape streamers hanging from us that we looked like Cousin It from the Adams family.

Jackie in her excitement kept ringing the brass bell on her handlebars BURR-RRINGG! BURR-RING!!  The loud sound startled me and when I looked over to her I saw what looked like red digital numbers flickering in her place.  They said 5:30.  Just another work day.

SteamPunk 2013

My daughter reminded me last night that the SteamPunk bike ride that we are supposed to organize is this coming Tuesday.  “This Tuesday?  I thought it was on Thursday!!  Holy S**T!!” was my response (actually it was a little saltier than that).

 

This Tuesday?

The news didn’t catch me totally by surprise, I just thought I had more time to design an outfit and fancy up my bike.  Jackie has already arranged with our main sponsor – Sanctuary,  to have their store open for us and to allow us to congregate on their property.  For my part, I’ve convinced our Promotions Coordinator Sarah to put a number of choice CITY TV promotional items into a prize pack for Jackie and me to give away.

For the bike, I’ve chosen Foldey Hawn to be my ride this time.  Last year it was the English Triumph three speed which I decorated with brass candle holders in the shape of trumpets and a gothic looking birdcage with the Stanley Cup trapped inside.  The frame was wrapped in an Alberta road map and I assembled an outfit that was a combination of Clockwork Orange and a bowler-wearing lumberjack.

 



My own Sir Stanley

After last year’s ride, and inspired by some of the other entrants, I visited a nearby dollar store and bought some weird water guns that I intend to “antique” and strap onto the bike as though they were some sort of atomic energy producing machines.  My company was throwing out old broadcasting equipment so I snagged some circuit boards to randomly attach to the bike.  Guaranteed to be peculiar.

For wardrobe, I have a pith helmet my twin brother sent me after a lot of nagging, a funky army surplus water bottle a dear friend gave me years ago, a tan safari shirt with epaulettes from a thrift store and welding goggles I impulsively grabbed at an auto supply shop.  What I’ll wear below the belt remains to be seen.  Maybe black vinyl pants that Corey at Sanctuary will convince me complement my eccentric and hastily thrown together SteamPunk outfit.  If I’m lucky, she’ll want to take precise measurements of my inseam and maybe lean in close to wrap a tape measure around my waistline and...

 

 

 

BikePacking 101

It is Bike Month here in our great city and ten hardy individuals weren't going to let a little rain stop them from attending BikePacking 101. The instructor was an old codger with seemingly lots of BikePacking experience and next to him he had his bike with all the gear a person would need for a unsupported trip.

The audience was equally divided between the sexes and the ages ranged from those in their early twenties to retired individuals. One person rides every day as a bike courier and another is planning to ride across the country. The suggestions they made to the teacher showed that some of them had quite a lot of BikePacking experience and in fact one of them asked where the term "BikePacking" originated?



The tutor explained that BikePacking is simply backpacking on a bike. (The bike wears the pack silly!). Except for the pump, patches, bike tools, cycling shoes, padded shorts and helmet, the equipment is pretty much the same and the gear is stowed in a similar manner to filling a packsac. Pack heavy stuff at the bottom and close to the frame and put items you constantly need in the external pockets.

Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, the BikePacking coach kept pulling out an limitless amount of interesting provisions from his panniers but the thing I liked best was the elastic netting that could be placed over all the accessories. The strong spider web elastic bands would ensure that nothing falls out. The leader described how his cycling partner lost his tent on a trip and had to squeeze into someone else's two man tent for the rest of the trip. I could then understand the value of having a midget sized one man tent.

Everybody gets their own tent

At the end of the demonstration, the trainer handed out bike themed stickers and it reminded me of a prize my brother and I received for belonging to our church choir. Choir members were rewarded for being the best soloist or best tenor or best harmonist. What do you give two boys who can't sing or hold their attention to the song sheet in front of them? You award them stickers for best attendance.