Spell of the Wild

Michael, our website guru, has placed a link for the cancer society to the right of the posts.  This is our benefit for the ride.  Should you wish to donate – you can donate directly to the cancer society.  On the first leg of the ride (Key West to the Canadian border) we raised near $10,000.  We would like to keep up the momentum and raise more on this trip.  If you do donate and want to let me know, I will put a new total (for this trip) in the blog every so often.  I’m not going to include names, just the amounts and a total for the trip.  Many Thanks to all of you.

Chuck:

A day of challenges: Hills, headwinds and flats.  Had a fitful night, the local bars must close at 2 am, that’s when traffic noise, drag racing wanna-bes and boisterous conversation started to subside.  At 6:30 am, when we started our day, the huge parking area was quiet and empty except for us and an old red Chevy pick-up.

I completed the previous day’s journal and fixed yesterday’s flat bike tire.  This was a chore because I was trying to cram a thick, heavy duty, thorn resistant tube into a small road bike tire.  I have had this tube since we were biking in New Mexico five years ago where thorns were a problem.  As I was cramming the last bit of tube, I noticed a patch on it.  What!  I never patch tubes except on the road, then I replace them and they get tossed.  The little patch looked good and I really didn’t want all that work of putting 10 lbs of crap in a 5 lb bag to be wasted.  Bad call!  When Betty dropped me at the point I had reached yesterday, I removed the bike from its rack and the tire was flat.  Now, I can fix it again but now in the weeds alongside the highway.  The new tube went in easy.  When I put about 20 lbs in for a test, I notice a bit of the tube was pinched between the wheel and the tire.  Let out the air, push in the pinched area, re-inflate to 100 lbs: good to go.  Betty says good-bye and is on her way, I’m off behind her, way behind.  Five miles later, I sense a problem; another flat, same annoying tire.  The good news is that with each change, I cut my time in half.  Now, I will have no more spare tubes on the bike with me.  Comforting to know that the B-Team can come to my aid if need be.  It is now noon and I have barely started.

When I exit the suburbs of Grand Prairie, Highway-43 is heading due west for the next 30 miles and directly into a 15 mph headwind.  Not enough yet, the road is all uphill.  Well, seems so anyway because I had to pedal to go downhill.  Just as an experiment, while pedaling downhill was going only 13 mph, I quit pedaling, speed steadily dropped to 5 mph.  I think that if I could have kept my balance I would have been going backwards uphill??  More hills and just when I think I have reached the top, more hills.  However, just as I approach the day’s destination, Beaverlodge, the wind slacks a bit and changes directions until it is almost out of the south.  A direct cross wind, but that’s ok, only 2 miles to go. The highway makes a turn to the north, then another.  After bucking a headwind all day, I breeze into Beaverlodge pushed by a tailwind??   That’s OK, this day is winding down.  A shower, sit outside in the afternoon sun with Betty & Bren, cold beer (white wine for Betty), cheese & crackers, pizza later.  This is live’n!

Brendan with the giant beaver at Beaverlodge, Alberta, Canada.  Pretty impressive.

Chuck:

The 1 km road into the RV camp that was so muddy yesterday afternoon had mostly dried.  Nice day for riding; cool no wind, billowing clouds covering most of the sky.  The past few hundred miles have been through mostly forest; aspen, birch, etc.  Today we emerge from the forest onto the Grand Prairie.  This huge prairie, known as Peace River Country, covers thousands of square miles.  It was settled by farmers in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s and is the largest such area between here and the Arctic Ocean.  As with the prairie land in U.S. and southern Canada, nearly all of it has now been tilled or otherwise converted from virgin prairie.  In a few places across this prairie, small circular hills jut up from the flat landscape.  They are almost straight up on all sides and maybe a hundred or two hundred feet high.  Called kleskun hills, they were formed as the areas around them eroded since the last Ice Age, the sod on top was of course hard to access and not large enough to till, so it is still virgin prairie.   

What seemed to be almost flat terrain, abruptly descended into the Smokey River valley.  It is a “35mph hill”; 30 mph going down and 5 mph pumping back up. It is the longest, steepest climb yet.  My cell rings as I was crossing the river, no shoulder, can’t stop now.  Just across the river, but still in the valley, I lift my bike over the guard rail and return the call to Betty.  Should have known the deep valley would not have good cell coverage.  About half-way up is a wide spot, I’m ready for a break, I try the cell again, connected.  The B-Team will be in a Staples parking lot in the city of Grand Prairie.  Out of the valley, smooth sailing.  The miles slowly slide behind me.  “Kazing”, a little wobble in the bike, harder to pump; better stop and check the bike.  Another flat, the rear tire again. Called Betty to let her know I’ll be delayed, she said the car is already unhooked from the RV, she will pick me up and I can fix the tire in our parking lot home for the night. 

Grand Prairie is much larger than I had remembered.  Seems to be a clean progressive little city.  There is a Canadian Brew Pub on the other side of our parking lot.  We decide to visit.  Brendan has been doing all the RV driving for the past week or so, I think he can smell these pubs as they approach.  It was a good time, rained most of the night, never did get that tire fixed.

Chuck:

Good start, cool, no wind, hills are friendly.  Plan is for the B-Team to drive directly to Sherk’s Campground in Valleyview, Alberta; I pack a lunch.  Three miles away and I have a flat rear tire, our first on this portion of our saga.  I have what I need to fix it, the culprit was a very small copper wire that went through the tire into the tube.  Back on the road.  Call to have the B’s stop when possible as they catch up to me.  Half-hour later they pass me and stop at a Rest Area to wait for me.  When I get to them I use the large tire pump to get 110psi in the new tube, my little portable pump will only get to about 60 psi; plenty for riding but more pressure means less effort and more speed.  Also, I grab another tube to carry as my new spare.  OK, now they are off to Valleyview.  Little Smokey is the only stop on this 50 mile stretch.  They have a fuel station and a restaurant.  Maybe not, the word “Closed” is painted across the restaurant part of a sign.  No matter, I’m rolling on.  I cross the Smokey River then only a mile or so later the Wastahigan River, it is a bit of a climb after the river valleys, no problem, mostly a gentle incline.  Valleyview is only 5 miles away, the sky looks dark in that direction.  Now it looks like it is raining at the top of a long hill, 3 miles to go, I stop briefly to slip on my wind-breaker (it is somewhat water resistant).  Still climbing that hill, now it is raining, 2 miles from the campground; no problem, the roads are mostly clean rather than muddy like yesterday.  Visibility is bad, a sign says RV Park with a left turn arrow.  I get in the left lane, oncoming traffic stops to let this water soaked cyclist get off the highway; oops this turn only goes into a gas station, I need the next one.  The lady driving the oncoming van waits for me, when I go straight instead of turning left, she blows me a kiss (or is saying some word that requires puckering like: pleeeeaze or puke or pervert or worse).  I make the next left turn, the sign indicates 1 km, oh no, it is an unpaved, muddy road.  No worries: been there.  It is still raining when I find the RV.  Betty dons her purple rain parka and helps me hose down the bike and me just to get the grit off before I clog the shower.  Nice park, I shower, the rain stops, sun comes out, we grill burgers on the park’s gas BBQ, no TV, life is good.

Oh yes, big news!  The B-Team spotted a real live moose.  It was across the median and on the far side of the oncoming traffic.  As they got their cameras ready, someone on a ATV either spooked it or chased it back into the woods.

Chuck:

Yesterday, I forgot to tell about my crash, minor but somewhat embarrassing.  As I wheeled into the RV park, I saw Betty walking Mitzie across a gravel road and parking area.  I said “Hi Ya” and slowed as I rolled up to them.  As usual, I kicked out of one of the cleats with my right foot.  Braking on gravel is tricky, the bike skidded to the right and laid downward on the left, but my left foot was still locked in the cleat.  So down on the gravel I went at a speed of about 3 mph.  Bikers say if you use cleats (almost all road bikers do), there are those bikers who have fallen due to a lockup and those who will.  I have done this two times before, I always try to arrange it so I have an audience.  A guy camped right behind our rig was walking about 50 feet away, he looked over as I hit the gravel, but , when he saw I was OK he had the decency to look the other way.  My first fall like this was about 24 years ago, the next about 12 years ago; once every dozen years or so seems to keep me in practice.

Today we continue north on Canada Highway 43 which will eventually become the Alaska Highway (aka AlCan Highway) in Dawson Creek.  Within minutes I was crossing the Athabasca River, a major Canadian river rich with history of exploration, fur trading and early settlements.  Its headwaters are in the Rockies hundreds of miles to the SW, it flows NE hundreds of miles to Lake Athabasca.  The area all around us is heavily forested and logging operations use this highway to get timber to the mills.  Oil is the other big industry in this area.  Both these activities are in primitive areas with minimal roads, the result is that lotsa mud gets tracked onto “my highway” and I have to ride thru it.  It rained most of this afternoon making the situation worse.  My bike and I were a mess when I rolled into our roadside camp in Fox Creek this afternoon.  It took longer to clean the bike than to clean me.

Now it is about 10 pm and raining again.  Plus, we just lost the use of our water pump.  I checked all the breakers, even tried the red neck method ‘tap it with a hammer’.  We will pursue this in the morning, when the rain has stopped.  (Late breaking news: the hammer trick must have worked it was operating just as we were going to bed).

Brendan has figured out that I hate driving the RV in the mountains.  He is a very good driver and is willing to drive.  GREAT!

Brendan and I had a devil of a time finding the campground.  We had three different camping books and each had a different address, but one had a street number.  So I plugged the street number into the GPS and when we got to Whitehorse we turned where the GPS told us to.  It was definitely a wrong turn.  We found a place to park and I went to ask this young handsome guy, Kevin, who was doing some work outside if he knew this campground.  He said “no, but there is one right across the highway”.  He offered to look the one we were looking for up on his phone GPS and it took him to the same location ours did.  He said he knew there was no campground on this side of the highway.  Then he said, let’s get in my truck and we’ll see if it’s in this area.  So we did – nothing, to include – not one across the highway.  So he called and found out the campground was a couple miles down the hill.  Then he drove me down to the campground to make sure I knew exactly where it was.  He was so nice.  He said he was originally from Nova Scotia and came to Alberta because there were so many jobs available.  He works for a safety company and is a firefighter.  We had a nice chat.  It’s the people like him who make travels so enjoyable.  I forgot to give him one of our cards, but I told him about our trip.  Brendan and I continued on our way and were soon all hooked up in the park.

Chuck:

This morning we need to be out of our gratis parking area in time for a beer delivery.  Hey we gotta do our part.  As we were pulling out Ron (our host & owner of the pub) was there to say good bye.  We like this town, reminds us of Lime Springs, Iowa in which Betty spent her childhood and that I have known for the last 47 years.  Just before we left, Ron suggested we take the scenic route out of town, down into a gorge across a small bridge, about 8 miles extra.  We had gotten a view of that gorge last evening and decided to forego that route: I did not need an extra steep hill and Betty frowns on taking the RV over small bridges.  Thanks anyway Ron!

It is a cool morning, the windbreaker feels good.  Usually, I wear: a tee shirt, on top of that, a long sleeve, light weight synthetic, then another tee shirt that is either bright yellow or orange.  The wind breaker is also highly visible.  The terrain has been gradually changing.  We now see lots of trees, even forests: aspen, cottonwood, birch and evergreens especially spruce.  Also there is still lots of pasture and cattle, very few grain fields.  Today we saw the first moose signs of the trip, road caution signs; no moose sightings yet.  The B-Team (Betty, Bren with the Bus) did see 2 antelope.  They (the B’s, not the antelope) waited for me in Mayerthorpe.  We had lunch and I rested then was back on the road for another 30 miles.  Left the windbreaker behind.  The directions for our RV Park destination were in serious error, Betty sorted it out and phoned me with an accurate version.  We are just outside the town of Whitecourt, Alberta on the Satwatamau River.  Nice!

Chuck:

We were not out in time for the 5 am fish-feeding.  I’m a little surprised that Brad didn’t knock on the door so we didn’t miss the ritual.  Cool morning, good for biking.  First, I was riding on Canada-20 north, then on 39 west, then on Canada-22 north with “Construction Ahead for the next 15 kilometers”.  This is major highway construction, replacing a bridge over the North Saskatchewan River with huge equipment, rocky muddy two lane (almost) traffic.  Lines of trucks brought the flow to a standstill.  As I was waiting, a lady in a small pick-up yelled “Hey biker, I’m also a biker, it is a narrow mess up there.  If you want, throw your bike in the back and I’ll drive you to the other side.”  I thanked her and declined.  She was right, it was very narrow and messy and went on for about 5 miles.  The slow traffic actually worked in my favor, since there was no shoulder; I just got in line taking a whole space.  If I came to a wide spot I got over, stopped and let those behind me pass.

Usually, a bridge means hills on both sides.  This was no exception.  Lots of hills, slow going.  A call from Betty, they are parked on the side of Main Street in the small town Of Entwistle.   Half-hour later, another call.  They will be in the Iron Wheel Pub across the street.  Looks like the “B-Team” has had a hard day as well.  Just the motivation I needed to knock out those last 10 miles.  Finally, I wheeled into town and was hanging my bike on the rear rack of the car, when Betty came to warn me it might be a rowdy reception.  What a great group of town folks.  As they cheered, John bought me the first beer.  We all swapped stories for a couple hours.  Troy donated $20 to our sponsored Cancer Fund.  Karen used to live in Yukon Territory and gave us all sorts of advice, Clint would’t stop telling Betty how to avoid bears…all was good.  Ron the bartender/owner, had an excellent selection of brew, plus seniors always get “happy hour” prices.   As folks drifted out, John & Doranda walked us down to their home, Bren stayed to watch the finish of a hockey game (Detroit vs Chicago).  John wanted to show us his 1961 Cadillac and 1939 Jaguar (replica).  The Jag was a work of art.  These folks live on the edge of town, their place overlooks the Pembina River in a deep gorge below them. 

When we returned to get Bren, Ron offered his rear parking lot to park our RV for the night.  We saw that it would fit nicely and moved in for the evening.

Chuck:

We spent the night in Wataskiwan, Alberta but I chilled out yesterday in Camrose so Betty & Bren drove me 29 miles back to the Co-op station.  I looked for the attendant who offered to let me warm up in the employee break room but he was not on the morning shift.  B & B were off to get some groceries, dog food and whatever.  The miles went by quickly; I arrived at our RV in Wataskiwan just two minutes after they did.  Lunch, rest and back on the bike, we will meet in Winfield about 40 miles down the road.  The first hours were good riding even with a 5 to 10 mph headwind, then the hills!  Up and down and always more up than down?  Almost every hill had a false summit, just when I thought I was reaching the top, there was more.  I guess the good news is that it is good training for the mountain roads ahead.  About 7:30 pm Betty came out to check on me, I was a mile from the road I will take north tomorrow so she waited for me there and toted me another mile (not on our route) to the city park in Winfield, population – 400.  What a neat little town and park, they helped B & B find the best spot out of the twelve they have, we are the only ones here tonight.  After I arrived, Brad, who is responsible for the park, came by and invited us to watch him feed the Rainbow Trout in their pond.  It is now 10:10 pm and the sun has just disappeared but it’s still light.  Life is good.

Chuck

This day starts great; no rain and the sun is trying to peek through.  A quick breakfast, grab my water bottles and I’m out the door.  Hmmm seems pretty nippy, better slide some long gloves (with fingers) over my bike gloves and maybe slip a windbreaker over my short and long sleeved Tee’s.  Still cool but I’ll warm as I get moving and the sun gets higher.  Betty has reviewed the map and says she will drive the RV to Wetaskawin and hook-up at the Prairie Breeze Campground.  We say goodbye and I’m on my way.  Immediately glad that I have the long gloves and windbreaker.   After a day off it feels good to be streaming along the highway, very little traffic, mostly flat, hint of a tail wind, nice.  Little towns slip into my tiny rearview mirror; Strom, Daysland, Bawlf.  The sun has disappeared, those black clouds that were in the distance are now upon me and the light misting is now a light rain and cooler.  I stop on the roadside to grab a chocolate bar to warm me.  A small car stops along side me and a lady asks if I need help.  She is Dutch and tells me of biking the Danube and the Rhine, Betty, Suz & I also biked the Rhine.  As we chat she says “You are shaking, and you’re all wet, you must be cold”, her husband invites me to come to their home to warm and wait until the bad weather passes.  I thank them and move on.  Now I am in exactly the situation that I avoided yesterday by taking the day off.  The road is wet, I am wet and visibility is terrible.  I decide to bike to the next town, Camrose, is 17 miles, I will wait there for Betty & Bren to come along.  My windbreaker is keeping my core dry, but my feet are soaked, gloves too and I feel cold water dropping on my head through the slots in my bike helmet.  What I am really concerned about is visibility; my glasses have water on both the outside and the inside.   When a vehicle passes, I sometimes get a wall of water, even when they try to give me a wide berth.  Finally, a large beautiful sign “Welcome to Camrose”  a mile later I see a Co-op gas station with a parking area big enough for an RV to maneuver.  I pull up by a pump which has overhead cover and call Betty.  Bren answers so Betty must be driving at this moment, they will find me.  Inside, I get some hot chocolate and go back out to direct them into a suitable area.  Some guy makes a crack about me fueling my bike.  After talking with a young couple, they invite me to wait in their van until I see the RV approaching, foolishly, I decline.   After few minutes, I am totally chilled and walk around to keep from shaking.  A Co-op worker, who provides full-service at the pump, suggests that I wait in their employee break room.  As we were talking, I see our “Home on the Road” and direct it to a space on the side of the parking area.  Betty is at the wheel, big warm smile, confidently wheeling that big rig with the Honda CRV in tow and both loaded with full bike racks.  Once inside the RV, I get out of the wet clothes, into as many dry layers as I can find and wrap up in blankets.  Betty moves us back into traffic and Bren has the map as they plan their route; I do not worry about it.  Warmth is wonderful!  By the time we reach Prairie Breeze Campground, the “chill” has passed, I feel human again. 

Betty goes to the campground office to make arrangements, she finds that they really do not have wi-fi as advertised.  We are assigned a campsite in a mudhole and as soon as I hook up the electricity, we blow a circuit breaker.  That’s it, we are moving.  The campground hostess says they have higher and dryer sites.  We select the highest & driest.  It only has 20 Amp service, most campgrounds offer 50 or at least 30 Amps.  We take it anyway, even though it means only one appliance and a couple lights at a time.  We are now hooked up, inside out of the rain and warm.  We decide to visit the Reynolds Alberta Museum which is only a half-mile away.  We had been told it was great and were looking forward to it.  Machines were the focus: cars, trucks, tractors, farm machinery, airplanes and more.  They had lots of vintage autos, mostly U.S. but some Canadian only and some European.  They even had a 1951 Studebaker, my first car, however, this one was not a convertible, mine was, it once held 14???  : ) .  We departed at closing time, it would take hours more to see it all.  Then, dinner at Barny’s Pub & Grill while Bren watched Boston whip up on the NY Rangers in Ice Hockey.  All is good!