Closer to home...into the Mountains

So I left Milk River, AL with the realization that my headset was loose and the fork was rockin' like a star. Maybe that 100 miles of gravel helped things along. But still I press on along Route 501 in the boon docks of beauty. Along the way I have to pause my ride to let a herd of cows on a cattle drive to watered pastures pass by. Next few miles I was dodging their fresh droppings. Got to be careful! Camped that night along side the road with the Canadian Rockies ever nearer. In Del Bonita two helpful locals tighten up my headset with standard tools and ingenuity. I make it to Cardston the home of Fay Wray (King Kong's Women) and am disappointed that the grocery store is smaller than I've been dreaming of. Then it's a poor campsite along the reservoir without water, but the next day all is good as I enter the mountains. Of course I had to pass by Pincher Creek and its spread of wind turbines, enough to strike fear into the heart of a cyclists, but the winds were calm today. With stormy skies threatening over the Crows Nest I decided to stop at the campground shelter in Bellvue. It was a good thing I stopped because it rained a bit throughout the day. Didn't like spending $3 on 1 1/2 liters of water though.

The next day the beauty of Crows Nest Pass made me pull over and snap photographs on a frequent basis. The small historic mining towns were also nice. Pressing on into British Columbia I visited the world's largest truck in Sparwood. Huge just doesn't do it justice. Bought some Nottingham Bread? Discovered that PB & J on sourdough bread tastes a bit funny. Then Fernie, a lovely resort town where folks ride their bikes everywhere, especially down roaring mountain descents. The craggy peaks surround the town and beckon to all with a sense of adventure. Unfortunately HWY 3 was busy and the shoulder was bad; probably more traffic passed me this afternoon than all the past two weeks combined! Yet I survived and after a quiet camp in the woods my sanity returned. Which was good because the next day it was back into the U.S and border officers can be tough. No worries though.
I found another cyclist in Eureka, MT who was part of a mountain bike race from Canada to Mexico; a gruelling 2,700 miles in about 30 days! Sounds hard, not fun. Then two other cycling tourists on the Northern Tier pulled in and we all spent the night at the town park. Pat and Dave were certainly a pleasure, and provided me the chance to share a 6-pack of Kootenay beer that I’d been craving after the dry prairies.

The next morning we splurged on bacon, eggs and orange juice. So wonderful of a change from oatmeal! Then they cycled East and I cycled West. Later that afternoon I watched two young black bears feeding along the roadside. Then I discovered an unmarked campsite near Libby Dam; it was stocked with firewood and the sunset that night lit up the sky. Thought of going for a dip, but it was too cold. Passed thru Libby, MT and stopped at Kootenai Falls where some movie was filmed. Then into Idaho and beautiful Cabinet Mountain Range and wetlands; which meant mosquitoes that night. The following day it was rain off and on as I passed thru Sandpoint, where I stopped to replace my worn cleats and talk with the friendly ladies at the local gear shop. Another suggested author to check out. That night at the COE campground in Priest River the surge of the shower pounded my skin. Felt like I could be clean for a week! Then into Washington, my fourth and final state. Beautiful quite road. The rough hardpack might have had something to do with that. Decided to stop after 55 miles and camped on a beautiful bluff overlooking the lazy Pend Oreille River.. The next day it rained off and on. Found some other cyclists in Colville, but didn't get to talk much because of the rain and cold; missed the Fathers' Day rodeo too.

That morning the sky looked stormy with few patches of blue, but just enough to sucker a guy. So the climb that is Sherman Pass began. 65 degrees at the base and by the top it was 35 and raining. I was a bit cold, hungry, low on water, pissed my map was wrong, and couldn't see the scenery. Yet after lunch things cleared up a bit and after covering my entire body against the elements I descended. Masked bandit cyclists descending upon the small mountain town of Republic. It was long and cold! In Republic I warmed up at the laundromat and then headed for the library. I was just lazin' in the sun on Main St. when Paul the local found me. Invited me to stay in a YURT for the evening and we had a good time drinking brews and eating a wonderful stir-fry. Awesome wonderful hospitality. Under clearing skies I made my way over Wauconda Summit and down into Tonasket. Stopped for a bit and then head on.. The air here has the scent of dryness and the sagebrush has appear. The rocky crags of the mountains add to the harsh beauty. Over a dozen cyclists passed me headed East, the most in one day. Good to see! Riding a side road with all the traffic from the highway detour and headwinds was not fun though. In Riverside I met Patrick and Linda, two Canadian cyclists headed East and we had a wonderful time trading stories. So I shall soon enter the Cascades, which was the impetuous for my initial bicycle touring foray way back in 2001. And so it all began...

I ain't froze stiff and my bones aren't bleaching on the the prarie

So it's been an adventure. On my layover in Chicago I stopped at Greek town for gyros. Pretty good! Also thinking that I should have waited a few days after the half marathon. I can barely walk my legs are so stiff! Hopefully I can ride thousands of miles on a bicycle?
So after assembling my bike in Minot, ND I decided I better get some maps and work out my route. I got some, yet my route keeps changing. Headed NW and was soon out of the "big" city and along the backroads and thru the small "towns". Stopped into a bar and soon I was in a guy's pickup headed out to the farm to see if the tires he had would work for my bicycle. Turned out they were the wrong size. Went on to the next town and stopped at the bar/cafe. Decided to splurge on a bacon cheeseburger and beer. PBR was as fancy as it got. Got talking with some old-timers and they were entertaining! Bought me another beer. Slept that night under the Western stars beyond the hundredth meridian, and gosh did I sleep swell.

Then I awoke sore, got breakfast, straddled my bike, and headed for the next bar. Now it may seem like this is one bar hopping bike tour, but ya must understand in the small towns that's all they got usually. These places aren't on the main road, the simple vinyl siding usually don't look like much, and you can never see inside so entering always a suprise. But there always a good place to meet the locals and tap into local knowledge. Really liked Crosby, ND. Got onto Route 5 and took it all the way thru to Ophiem, Montana. Along the way I passed thru Plentywood, MT where the great Sitting Bull returned to the U.S. from refuge in Canada. I chatted with a wonderful cheery girl mending fences on the ranch. Would have offered to help out, but Louis l'Amour and Zane Grey wouldn't like a ranch hand in lycra. The country is so beautiful here and so was she. Holed up in Scobey, Mt. to wait out the cold and rain. Spent a rest day there. Got some good groceries. Grocier told me that his daughter was state champ, despite the fact that the town pool is only open 6 weeks a year! Visited Pioneer Town and talked with the Edgar who lived it all. The wheat boom, and building of the Fort Peck Dam, and now the new West.

Then as the cold continued I headed for Canada. At such a small crossing I don't think the customs officer could really understand why I was there. Less traffic man! He let me in and the next day, which was colder than the last, I visited Wood Mountain Mountie Post. Not much there, but the women at the visitor center was helpful. Plus gave me hot water! So another re-route up to route 13 and the Red Coat Trail (NWMP). Stopped for the night in Ponteix. Not much there, expcept a nice Catholic church and of course the grain mill. Always the grain mill far out on the horizon announcing a cluster of buildings in the distance. The next day I made it to Eastend, my main destination in Saskatchewan. I just finished reading "Wolf Willow" by Wallace Stegner, one of my favorite Western/environmental authors, which in addition to other stuff, talks of his sence of place living a few years in Eastend. Stay in the nice park were Stenger once stayed. Finally some sunshine after days of cold and threatening colds. The next day I visited the town musuem and the Stegner house (it's now a place for artists of all sorts to stay and work). It was a mythical experience in Cypress Hills.

That afternoon I headed out and by early evening was in Consul. Stopped by at the town's bakery for it's grand opening. Chatted with the family for a bit. Grandpa tells me proudly of his daughter who just became discus champion of the province. Everyone in Canada I've talked to is so friendly and helpful. Lots of people wave as they pass by me. Load up with water and head out for Havre, MT along the now gravel road. People in Saskatchewan admit they have bad roads, but for cycling their not so bad. The road was not so bad so I decided to chance it and go route 501. Cross into Alberta and camp on the prarie beside the cow pasture with no one around for miles. The sunset, the sense of solitude, it was magical! Next morning more gravel road. As long as it's not loose and mostly hardpack it's okay, but then it ain't always good. Get to the junction of Route 41 and decide to stay on the gravel road. Then the gravel got looser and at one point two dozen trucks passed me kicking up so much dust I couldn't see the next one coming. I couldn't pull off because the mosquitoes had made their appearance in great force. Miserable, tired, hungry, low on water, and miles of prarie to pass. If discovered that the prarie can change faces. It can be beautiful solitude at dawn and dusk, but under the burning afternoon sun can change to and endless horizon of desolation. Finally, 20 miles past my exhaustion point I reach Writing-on-Stone Provincial Park. The hoodoo rock formations are beautiful even in my tired dusty state. Check-in, buy a blue raspberry slushie, brain FREEZE, drink some water. ah.... it's all good folks because I ain't froze stiff (it's nice and warm again) and my bones aren't bleaching on the prarie ( and the mountains are a days ride away).