Dino's blog for mini adventures and endurance challenges
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Day 12: Golden to Lake Louise (85 km)

I’m so tired I could face plant into my couscous.

The only time in my life when I’ve been this tired was when my Mum and I went on a 24 mile walk. My mother, I should point out, is a hardcore walker. Whereas I am not. I think I did actually fall asleep into my dinner that night.

Today I cycled 85km up the infamous 10 Mile Hill and over Kicking Horse Pass. It was my fifth day in a row of cycling. As soon as I got back onto the highway and began the first steep ascent the leg burn kicked in. I began to wonder whether racing my own imaginary Giro d’Italia up a mountain pass, then only eating left overs and not stretching was perhaps a bit… Foolish.

I climbed. All day I climbed like a tortoise. I felt zapped of energy. The tank was empty (because some fool decided to only feed it two meals in 118km yesterday!) My muscles and joints ached.

And then I remembered how the tortoise won the race. Sometime last year I did a 100k women only bike challenge with my mother around the rolling (read: hilly) South Downs. I remember my mother overtaking pink gym bunnies half her age. Some had stopped and were pushing their bikes up, other pink bunnies were only pedalling just enough to save falling off backwards. And my mother pedalled past them…

The trick, I recall, was to slip into the lowest gear possible and then just keep pedalling. So somewhere in my exhaustion I remembered this. And thought “if my 58 year old mother can cycle up these hills then so can I.” And so I kept pedalling. I munched some more jelly beans. Thought about my mother and the pink gym bunnies. And somehow found the strength to tap away at about 7km up this Rocky Mountain pass.

I wanted to get to Field for lunch but by 2pm I had done 50km (7km short) and my tank needed desperate refilling. I stopped by the side of the road. There was nothing around except wilderness sliced in half by highway. I was apprehensive about lunching in the wild alone for fear of bears.

So as I hung out my tent to dry in the sun and spread my avocado I began to sing. I started with John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High” (obviously) but soon ran out of lyrics. So I started Aretha Franklin’s “I will survive” which seemed equally suitable. My avocado was finished but my tent was not yet dry. So I used some precious battery on the iPad to listen to some tunes (namely “what a beautiful day” by the Levellers and “C-A-N-A-D-A” by Raffi.) And I sung. And I danced. And felt very happy and not so scared of bears.

Drying out in the sun

Drying out in the sun

I pedalled off happily only for the leg burn to hit within 1 minute up the relentless hill. When I arrived at Field I was accosted by a lonely cyclist who gave me his card and clearly wanted to chat. I did not. I wanted to cycle up the infamous 10 Mile hill before I collapsed.

Straight out of Field it was horrendously steep. Horrendously. Alongside the road was a river – a gushing fast-paced whitewater river that was beautiful to see but was also a cruel reminder of the gradient.

The rest of the day basically continued in this way. I felt weak. The hill went up.

Somewhere near the top. Not sure if this is BC or Alberta as there was no sign.

Somewhere near the top. Not sure if this is BC or Alberta as there was no sign.

Finally the mountain relented and I was freewheeling. The end was near. The most beautiful thing I saw all day was the sign “Lake Louise next exit”. I let out a yell.

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Finally, finally I had arrived. For weeks I’ve been telling myself that if I can cycle to Lake Louise then I can cycle across Canada.

And now I know I will.

Ps. I actually left BC and entered Alberta today but I didn’t see a sign which was most disappointing.

Day 11: Canyon Hot Springs to Golden
(118 km)

48, 49, 50…
The seconds ticked down as I lifted out the saddle, gave out a roar and sprinted towards the finish.
58, 59…
Bang on 2 hours, 15 minutes and 0 seconds I slammed on the brakes and jumped off Monty, diving off the road and onto the verge where the signpost stood.

Did you see the Giro d’Italia stage this year where Visconti climbed up the Galibier in the snow? He impressively clung on and won the stage in epic style. That was me today

Here I am at the top of Roger’s Pass. I’d ascended the pass non-stop since the campsite, a solid 34km of steep climbing. I was desperate to reach the top in the fastest time possible- I’d been busting a gut trying to keep my average speed above 16km per hour.

No Wanderers to cycle with today hence awful selfie pic

No Wanderers to cycle with today hence awful selfie pic

At the top I was greeted by a tour guide and a horde of English tourists. They were trying to ask questions about my trip, where I was from, oh yes I know Oxford etc. but now I know why tour riders go straight for the team truck before they talk to the media. “Sorry, I don’t wish to be rude but I need to go now before my legs seize up,” I said jumped back on Monty.

Despite my epic ascent I still had 80km to ride.

To begin with there was a fast descent slowed only by tunnels and construction works. One tunnel was so dark that you couldn’t see the ground which was fun. The downhill felt short lived for then I began climbing again.

At 60km I stopped for lunch. I was so pumped with energy that I could only eat a few forkfuls of my pasta. I wanted to get back on the road. I stood up and looked at the road climbing up the hill ahead. And there I saw it…

The black outline hovering on the hard shoulder. Was it moving? Yes, it was moving. The bear was wandering up along the road, exactly on the hard shoulder where I wanted to cycle. My heart started pounding. I looked at an RV that was parked nearby, the woman inside looked completely unaware of the danger.

I took the monoscope out my pannier to get a better look.

Oh. It was Bryan. The guy whose recumbent bike I had tried out for size the previous evening. You will be amazed how much a recumbent bicycle looks like a bear.

This is Bryan

This is Bryan

I jumped back on my bike and continued up the hill. I cycled across a time zone. My legs were bursting with energy, pumping like pistons as I charged up the hill getting faster and faster. Now I was no longer in the Giro d’Italia but doing the bike leg of an Ironman. I ripped open an energy gel with my teeth and leapt out the saddle, pushing up my speed.

You know you've cycled far when you cross a time zone

You know you’ve cycled far when you cross a time zone

My legs were spinning out the kilometres faster and faster. As if I was in some sort of trance. I couldn’t stop, I didn’t stop. I just kept on racing to the finishing line.

At 100km out of nowhere three cyclists appeared on the road coming towards me. Three men. They all had thick beards and heavily loaded panniers. They cheerer, waving their arms in the arm, roaring me on. I have no idea if they were a hallucination. By this point I couldn’t tell what was uphill, what was downhill. There were only legs. Energy. Water. And scenery so sublime that I forgot at every stroke about the lactic acid in legs. I was going to win.

As I approached Golden I counted down the kilometres one by one. At each rise of the road I got out the saddle and fiercely hunted down the hills. I was getting faster and faster. I saw Bryan the bear in the distance again. I chased him down and sped past. Less than 10km to go.

Finally I skidded into the Tim Hortons at Golden to wait for Bryan. I didn’t matter that I’d beaten him (although nice that I had beaten a 34 year old man on a recumbent). I had beaten myself. My average speed we 19.3km per hour- that is faster than I usually cycle to work – and today I had cycled 118km over two mountain passes.

Sir Edmund Hillary once said “It’s not the mountain that we conquer but ourselves.”

Today I conquered both.

Rocky Mountain High Part 1

June 12th, 2013 | Posted by Dino in Canada | Uncategorized - (0 Comments)

Day 10: Revelstoke to Canyon Hot Springs (38 km)

Short doesn’t always mean sweet.

Today was the shortest day of the trip at a mere 38k. But I wasn’t feeling great and the steep grade didn’t help as I slugged up towards the Rockies at my slowest speed yet.

Even though the muscles in my legs actually feel fine I was in a sore achy pain from my mid back all the way to my feet (lethal combo of period pain, old back problems and many miles of uphill). The back of my left knee twinged uncomfortably as I hit hard on the pedals.

The only relief from the pain was the gorgeous views: huge mountains all around peaked over the thick forests like chunks of frozen toblerone. Veins of melted snow tricked down the crevices in the mountain tops and reappeared as foaming creeks at the roadside. Today it was hot – almost too hot – as we ascended to Canyon Hot Springs.

Rocky and Monty start ascending the Rocky Mountains

Rocky and Monty start ascending the Rocky Mountains

The campsite here is a bit of a joke. Everything is so expensive. After a hot days cycling I was annoyed to find that the showers were $3, especially having just forked out all my change to do some laundry. So in protest I decided to wash in a large sink (a talent I picked up in the good old days of cycling to college) and rather than spend $4 on a dryer I hung up my soggy socks and undies on the signpost.

Yes that means I have actually washed my one and only cycling jersey

Yes that means I have actually washed my one and only cycling jersey

After popping painkillers today, feeling literally weak at the knees and the daunting summit of Rogers Pass on the horizon I am feeling a bit apprehensive about tomorrow’s ride. There are also some tunnels ahead on the way to Golden that other cyclists have reported as very scary. But who said cycling across Canada was going to be easy?!

Random addendum
Best bit of the day: having a go on Bryan’s recumbent (who’s Bryan? Guy who is cycling across Canada and back who rocked up at the campground later afternoon)
Worst bit of the day: watching Katie Wanderer slow-mo crash into a bed of poison oak. Ouch.

That's actually a neck rest above my head. I'm just that short.

That’s actually a neck rest above my head. I’m just that short.

Into the Mountains

June 10th, 2013 | Posted by Dino in Canada | Uncategorized - (3 Comments)

Day 9: Enderby to Revelstoke (112 km)

Thunderstorms and cycling do not mix. The rain began to patter down on my tent as I stirred for breakfast. My mood was a gloomy as the low cloud when I checked the weather forecast to find thunder storms predicted for the 112km of cycling that way ahead.

Today I was cycling with the two Wanderers. These two had always turned up at the campground many hours later than I had on previous parts of the trip. But this was most certainly not because they cycled slower. They flew out the Enderby campground at a stonking pace (24km per hour!) and didn’t stop until 40km later.

Feeling slightly the worse for wear after yesterday’s revelries, when we stopped I collapsed on a coffee and cookies. We didn’t move from the comfy cookie-eating coffee-drinking position for over an hour.

With extra caffeine in me, I led the mini-peloton for the next 25km. It’s here that I joined the Trans-Canada highway for the first time on my trip. I smiled, knowing I would be following this road for more of less a month.

Then the heavens opened. The rain quickly soaked my windproof jacket and I could feel the water seeping slowly down the collar and into my socks. The wanderers both had waterproof covers for their shoes. With the threat of more rain in the next few days I vowed to buy the nicest, most waterproof pair I come across.

And yet it was glorious. For by now we were cycling into the mountains. Gone are the dusty, ochre-hued rocks of the Okanagan. Here the looming clouds cast shifting lines of darker green on the billowing, ascending pine forests. The mountains disappeared into puffs of white cloud. We cycled through noise and solitude. First the howling rumble of articulated trucks, zooming motorbikes, the earth-shaking rumble of a passing freight train and the lively, gushing creeks. Then the ceasing traffic noise would amplify the quiet sounds of cycling in the forest: the water trickling through the rocks, the wind in your ears, the slick watery hiss of your tyres on wet tarmac and one bodyless bird reciting melodies from above the forest.

Wandering into the Rockies

Wandering into the Rockies

The thunderstorm never materalised. Nor any hard climbs. With less than 2 miles to go Sofi Wanderer had a flat tyre easily fixed at the road side. But as we finally freewheeled our way to the campground the sky cleared and the snowy peaks of the Rockies were illuminated by the glowing evening sun.

Tomorrow it begins: the ascent of Rogers Pass and my route through the Rocky Mountains.

How to be Canadian

June 10th, 2013 | Posted by Dino in Canada | Uncategorized - (1 Comments)

Day 8: Kelowna to Enderby (87.5 km)

“Country club!?” I exclaimed, swivelling round from the front seat, “I thought we were going to a pub.”

It’s 10pm the night before an 88km ride. Usually by this time I would have followed the setting sun to bed and be deeply dreaming about Monty and mountains. No so in Kelowna.

Courtney and Danica had arranged to cycle with me to Kelowna but first they, and their gathered friends, had to teach me the important Canadian lesson of how to two-step. So here I found myself in a club with more cowboy hats than a Clint Eastwood movie. I was scared of the dancing. But even more scared when, during a quick break from spinning round the dance floor, Danica told me that they furthest she’d ever cycled was only 45km.

My worries were allayed the following morning when we set off in the sunshine, joined for the first 20km by Courtney’s dad.

A small peloton

A small peloton

The kilometres slipped by easily and the girls had to wait for me and Monty at the top of the climbs. They had cunningly arranged to have a Support Van (sorry, “truck”) follow us to the campsite later, laden with beer, firewood and a BBQ – all the ingredients for a good night’s camping.

But we could start the campfire we needed to chop the wood! And so commenced my second lesson in being Canadian…

Aim. Chop. Fling. Chop. Sorted.

Aim. Chop. Fling. Chop. Sorted.

The evening was spent gathered around the campfire toasting (and burning) marshmallows. I charged the gathered Canadians to compete for the accolade of “best British accent” (the prize was a toasted marshmallows) and amused them by rattling off a Raffi song in my newly acquired Canadian.

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What a wonderful day. It’s not fair to make sweeping generalisations about an entire people yet all the Canadians I have met so far have been awesome, kind and magnanimous people.

Thank you to Courtney, Danica, Amanda and Kate for teaching me how to be Canadian.

Happiness is bicycle shaped

June 7th, 2013 | Posted by Dino in Canada | Uncategorized - (1 Comments)

Day 7: Penticton to Kelowna

I have a tshirt that says “happiness is bicycle shaped”. Today more than any other day of the ride this rang true.

Today I cycled 73km along the rugged western shore of Lake Okanagan. The Okanagan area really reminds me of the south of France. I cycled under a hot egg-blue sky, the lake to my right, dusty rocky hills on the left.

The Okanagan region is known for its wineries (it’s where Canadian ice wine comes from). With only 70km to do all day I was able to cycle at a leisurely holiday pace. After 20km I mounted a steep hill and treated myself to a gargantuan icecream. Nom.

Scoop 1: maple walnut. Scoop 2: black cherry.

Scoop 1: maple walnut. Scoop 2: black cherry.


20km later I didn’t think twice about zooming down a short hill to check one of the wineries. Having cycled in the heat for a couple of hours the refined sips of wine disappeared in thirsty gulps.

“Hmm… Yes you can really taste the notes of pear and citrus,” I commented while downing the glass in one. Trying to come across sophisticated while wearing Lycra and bike clothes is not an easy task.

All the wines were delicious (aren’t all wines delicious after cycling in the sun?) so I bought a bottle for the family who are hosting me in Kelowna.

I heard on the grapevine that the Okanagan region produces some fine wine. Groan.

I heard on the grapevine that the Okanagan region produces some fine wine. Groan.

I zoomed on merrily. I could mention the awful near-crash experience involving a steep descent, a busy highway and a hole in the ground. But the moment doesn’t a) fit into the holiday theme of the day and b) is liable to scare my mother and c) isn’t fun to dwell on. Suffice to say that a) Monty is a very trusty steed, b) braking on hills is occasionally wise, and c) highway authorities should not put drain holes at the bottom of steep hills on narrow hard shoulders where there is nowhere to swerve to except heavy traffic (!)

Arriving into Kelowna was not the most fun as first I had to tackle The Bridge. As you may know, I am not a big fan of bridges on bicycles. I sang the entire M&M song up to verse 10 before I safely reached the other side. Just as well as the M&M song does not have an 11th verse.*

*Gulp.

*Gulp.

In Kelowna I was met by Courtney who recognised me and Monty as the only lost-looking English girl on laden mule of a bicycle combo in the riverside park. Courtney and her friend Danica and I had arranged to meet up as next year the two friends are planning to cycle across Canada. The 3 of us will be cycling together to Armstrong on Saturday – followed by a van of food (!)

After catching up over a cold glass of water, Courtney and I headed down to the bike shop. She has recently got a shiny new Surly disc trucker in preparation for her Canada trip which she needed to pick up for its first service. I wheeled Monty along as I have recently been developing paranoia that Monty’s brakes are wearing down and that the tyres are about to perish.

My brake paranoia is perhaps justified as the brakes have had to cope with lengthy hairpin snaking descents in France and a nerve-shattering 25% descent into Lynmouth last summer.

“You have about 10% wear on those brakes,” the bike mechanic commented.
My jaw clunked like an unoiled gear change as it fell to the floor.
“Disc brakes last a lot longer,” he added as way of explanation.

The mechanic, a smiling cool-looking guy in a yellow tshirt chomping through a protein bar, cooed and ahhed over Monty. “That is your classic, round-the-world German style unbreaking touring bike.”

“It’s a Roberts.” I explained, not thinking they would have heard about Roberts. But they had. Another guy came over to inspect Monty. I got the impression that, despite the guys’ too-cool-for-school nonchalance, Monty’s arrival in this small Kelowna bike shop was an equivalent spectacle to a Wandering Albatross swooping over Bedfordshire.

Turns out that not only are Monty’s brakes totally fine but so too is his tyre beading. “I know a guy,” the mechanic explained, “who cycled across Canada and back on Schwalbe marathon tyres. He didn’t even get one flat. You have Schwalbe Marathon Plus tyres.” My paranoia abated. Monty smiled coyly, flattered by the attention and admiration.

I am so happy the way my trip is taking shape. Possibly I am the happiest that I have ever been in my life. And so is Monty because he is doing what he was built to do.

It’s true what the tshirt says: happiness is bicycle shaped.

*The M&M song
The M&M song was co-written by my mother and Me last summer while cycle-camping the Kennet & Avon sustrans route. Sung to the theme of the Noah’s ark song “the animals came in two by two” it goes something like this:

The M&Ms came in two by two
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The M&Ms came in two by two
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The M&Ms came in two by two
The brown, the red, the green and the blue
And they all went into my mouth in order to keep me going

The M&Ms came in three by three
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The M&Ms came in three by three
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The M&Ms came in three by three
Two for you and a-one for me
And they all went into my mouth in order to keep me going

The M&Ms came in four by four
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The M&Ms came in four by four
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The M&Ms came in four by four
I ate them all and I wanted more
And they all went into my mouth in order to keep me going

Etc.

Crossing cycle paths

June 6th, 2013 | Posted by Dino in Canada | Uncategorized - (2 Comments)

Day 6: Princeton to Penticton (105 km)

Crossing bike pathsYou would have thought that there aren’t all that many folks cycling across Canada right?

Back in Victoria John and Kumiko (who cycled across Canada in 2007) told me that one day in Ontario they stopped for breakfast with not one, not two but a gathering of eight trans-Canada cyclists. It seems pretty incredulous that so many cyclists would congregate at the very same spot at the very same time. Not so.

Today my cycle path crossed with another 7 cyclists all headed for the East coast.

Firstly, Nic, the guy from Quebec who I have cycled with since Mission, is headed to Nova Scotia. We parted ways this morning as he is following highway 3 to the crows nest pass whereas I am headed for the northern route towards Lake Louise, Banff and other tourist traps.

I stopped outside a snack shop with 2 cyclists outside. Stan and Shirley had stopped to get the best beef jerky for miles around inside the store. They are both headed for the east coast. Amusing they describe their trip as “one woman’s dream, one man’s nightmare!” But on a sunny day with only rolling hills and beef jerky en route I doubt it was too hellish for Stan. They too are taking the southern route via highway 3.

At lunchtime I was happily munching through my fourth Ryvita and Gouda slice when Chase and Erica pulled up. Their trip is slightly different because they are cycling for a month, then have to return home to work for a month, but will they fly out to where they left to carry on their ride. If they don’t finish it in 2 months then they’ll complete their cycle ride next year. I love their dedication.

I also narrowly missed (by 10 minutes apparently) the 2 “wanderers on wheels”. The wanderers also have a very amusing blog which I greatly enjoy reading; certainly they make me feel like less of a nutter for making this trip. I did actually met these girls briefly at Manning Park. In fact, I met all the above guys at Manning park!

If you think about it… There are only so many months in the summer when Canada is fun to cycle through. And you need most if not all of them to cycle coast to coast at an enjoyable pace. I hope to bump into these guys again, and meet any other folks who are also making the trip.

Anyway, aside from meeting loads of friendly cyclists, today I cycled 105km with swoopy hills. One hill was so swoopy it swooped for about 10k (or so it felt) and I hit a max speed of 57.7km/h (that’s v fast for a fully loaded tourer like Monty)

My favourite moment of the day though was seeing a signpost that read: Similkameen Taxidermy. Emergency and out of hours call: 350-123-000

I will leave that for you to ponder.

Food glorious food

June 5th, 2013 | Posted by Dino in Canada | Uncategorized - (1 Comments)

Day 5: Manning park to Princeton

Today I mostly whizzed downhill. There was one big uphill. lots of beautiful scenery etc…

But I’m guessing from the last 2 days of blogging that you’ve got the picture. So today instead of cycling you have a photo blog of “everything the hungry cyclis ate today.”

I calculated I will need to eat 4,500 calories on average per day while cycling. Here is what I managed today…

Breakfast: 1x fresh orange, some black coffee and peanut butter on a roll/one slice of ryvita
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Snacks on the bike: 1 x banana, a few dried apricots, a handful of jellybeans
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Lunch: avocado on 4 x slices of ryvita (which does taste like cardboard but does also travel well), 1x fresh tomato, 1x apple
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Lunch dessert: a scoopful (or 4) of chocolate trail mix. Next best thing to peanut m&ms. Nom nom nom.
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Post-bike refuel snack: blueberry muffin. Swallowed whole. Good for repairing muscles etc etc.
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Dinner: noodles (with donated remnant of spring onion added) and 1 x local craft beer
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Dessert: fresh strawberries
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Plus loads of water cuz it was a hot day.

Whatcha reckon? Pretty tasty stuff, eh?

The ascent of Allison Pass

June 5th, 2013 | Posted by Dino in Canada | Uncategorized - (1 Comments)

Day 4: Hope to Manning Park

“When I imagined cycling across Canada I imagined it would be like this,” Nic remarked as we enjoyed the hardest cycling of the trip.

Sunshine, a cool westerly breeze, jelly beans, forest, steep ascending, mountains and even a bear – all these things made for a memorable day’s cycling.

Today we tackled Allison Pass. A hefty climb from 56m to over 1,300m above sea level. I’d read online that it was the toughest day of cycling across Canada. Monty and I were mentally prepped and focused on the ride ahead, but we also knew that we could do it. It’s ‘only’ as high as Mont Aigoual which we cycled up last year with Ruth (a reasonably horredous ride as it was so windy we thought we might be blown off the top of the mountain!)

In comparison to Mont Aigoual, Allison pass was a complete joy and pleasure. Yes it was steep, very steep in fact (for reference many stretches were much, much steeper than Nuffield hill or the hill up to the Lodge) but my legs felt strong.

Today was a day of firsts. First time I cycled past a bear, first time I cycled up a Canadian mountain pass, first time I cycled past patches of snow wearing just a tshirt and shorts (the exertion was enough to keep me warm.)

I should explain that I didn’t actually see the bear although it was only the other side of the road. How did I miss it? A car had managed to drive off the road so it was hanging precariously on the edge of the steep gravel slope that descended many feet into the Skagit river. It didn’t look like a great place to be. The driver was hanging out the window, as if trying to balance the car so it wouldn’t roll down the slope into the cold gusting river.

“I feel like a complete dumb ass right now,” he remarked, appreciating the stupidity if not the danger of dangling over a steep drop.

A couple of other cars had pulled up around, seemingly to help with a rescue although there was a distinct lack of a tow rope.

Oh well. We can’t tow up a car on bicycles. So we merrily cycled past. Now on the other side of the road from all this is a young black bear. It’s sort of like one of those physiology studies in distraction. Nic and I only found out about the bear when Rob caught up with us and told us about it (he even had time to take some photos).

I’m slightly disappointed that I missed my first bear. Yet also very pleased as it wouldn’t have done my nerves much good.

As you can see... Sunshine, forest, mountain and lots of pedalling uphill...

As you can see… Sunshine, forest, mountain and lots of pedalling uphill…

That's higher than snowdon

That’s higher than snowdon

Sunshine, a cool westerly breeze, jelly beans, forest, mountains and even a bear.

Today was exactly like cycling across Canada should be: awesome.

Anywhere to Hope

June 2nd, 2013 | Posted by Dino in Canada | Uncategorized - (1 Comments)

Day 3: Mission to Hope (90.5km)

If you could be anywhere in the world right now where would you be?

It’s easy to have moments when that ‘anywhere’ is somewhere else – eg home, warm, dry, not in an office on a sunny day etc. But there are also those moments, as rare and unacknowledged as a sundog in the heavens above, when that ‘anywhere in the world’ you dream of is right where you are standing.

Yesterday I couldn’t wish to be anywhere else in the world except riding with Monty between Mission and Hope.

Cycling yesterday was one of the best days riding I’ve had all year. I set off from the campsite with Nicolas, a cyclist from Quebec who is headed to Nova Scotia. We whizzed along highway 3. I felt like there was an invisible rope pulling me along – the joy of drafting behind Nic was so great. But then when I overtook we were still going a nippy 20km per hour.

For the entire day (all 90km) we cycled along the same road. No turnings, no navigating just a fat hard shoulder of smooth tarmac. The scenery heading East became gradually more mountainous. In the foreground lay fields of fruit trees, ripening in the cool breeze. To our right a rumbling freight train laden with lumber shook past. A golden eagle called out in a shrieking cry and swooped overhead. Swallows dipped and dived. The Fraser river reflected the shimmering blue of the snowy mountain peaks. And on we cycled.

“Shout if a vehicle comes and I’ll get out the middle of the road”

“Shout if a vehicle comes and I’ll get out the middle of the road”

We encountered a few short climbs but mostly it felt like we cycled downhill all day. The kilometres fell past us like dominoes knocked to the floor. On we cycled.

We pulled up for lunch outside a gas station. No sooner had we pulled out our food but a soft rain fell so we sat underneath the picnic table to keep dry. (It was a picnic table built for giants so plenty of room). Even rain couldn’t damp my spirits on day like this.

Nearing 90km we descended into the small town of Hope, that is nestled like a tiny egg in a box of snow capped mountains. On Monday I will be cycling up over the infamous Allison Pass. But for now I will rest in Hope. Hopeful that cycling across Canada will continue to be that ‘anywhere’ in the world that I really want to be right now.