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Saturday, June 20, 2009

A brief interlude

Hi folks,

My web analytics reports that many of my friends and family are using this website to track my tour across the country! So if you are reading this you are invited (no kidding) to meet me in Canmore, Alberta for a leisurely ride to Calgary this Sunday (June 21, 2009).

We will be leaving at 8:30, and you should bring a bike.

Please contact me at 403-383-4420

Regular updates to the log will be posted upon my arrival in Calgary.

Much Love,

Ted Bullock

Friday, June 12, 2009

Day 10 - Break time is over, now get back to work

I wake up as the sun rises over the crest of the hill behind Meghan and Gary's house. As usual Meagan is already up and has begun packing. Before we leave, there are few additional adjustments that Neil wants to make to our bikes, so he goes to work, which leaves Meagan and I to munch on a bit of breakfast care of our hosts. The kids are now up and about, and pass hither and yawn about the kitchen, yard and house, however their mom gets them packed, zips them to school and makes it back in only a few minutes. She is very capable with her children.

Now packed, fed and tuned up we say farewell, and hit the road. Meagan wants to leave a bit ahead of me just so she doesn't get left in the dust. I have been consistently quite a bit faster than her, and I guess she is tired of coming in later. Fine with me.

So I wander back to Chum's Restaurant and as I am jumping off the bike, I notice a small peculiar piece of plastic on the ground. As I bend to examine it, I think, hmm, I think this would fit on my MP3 player charger. Opening my saddlebag, sure enough the plastic fitting is missing from mine; I guess it fell off the day before I and I hadn't noticed it. Weird coincidence.

Water bottles filled I finally leave the town of Cache Creek heading east along the TransCanada Highway. The gradual hill out of town is a piece of cake, as is the series of rolling hills along the road. Behind me is a gentle tailwind as I pass lushly irrigated farmland surrounded by the rugged desert of the countryside. Sure enough though, it soon becomes apparent that the landscape is transitioning from arid and to something quite a bit more foliated.

The day off yesterday has refreshed my body and legs greatly and I power over the countryside, quickly overtaking Meagan, and finally surging up a hill in terrain which can only be described as desert. As oasis style gas station is just off the road and I think, hmmm, lunchtime.

Sometime passes, and Meagan eventually passes the station without stopping in. I wave her on, finish up and get back on the bike. Now I am directly under the noon sun, and even my freshly refilled water bottles are empty after only a few more minutes of climbing and riding. Below a shady tree I see Meagan, chat with her a while then continue under the yellow suns glare. Well, I am thirsty before long.

In this state I pass the town of Savona (not stopping of course) and begin a climb which I call the Savona Hill since I don't know its real name if it has one. The heat, incline and traffic make this distinctly challenging and before long my water is totally gone. Fortunately I encounter Cal Setter coming round a sharp turn on the road. He has his power tools on the back of his truck, and is remounting the small shrine he started years ago to mark the place his daughter was killed.

We talk and share our experiences for most of an hour, and he offers me some very appreciated water which are accepted graciously. Meagan passes me after some time, and doesn't stop. Before leaving, he hands me his card and asks for a post card from the end of my journey. Sure thing.

Continuing along I see Meagan pushing her bike up the steep climb. I make up some of the distance before she summits the hill and is gone. Summiting some 5 minutes later she is nowhere in sight, however there is a fantastic lookout point and a picnic table where I sit, eat and take a small nap.

Upon waking I see in the distance a grass fire burning the side of the valley some way ahead of me. After some photos of the event I jump on the bike and cruise down the far side of the Savona Hill. There is a long valley between me and the next climb which I fully expect to bring me into Kamloops. The valley itself is lined by farmland, and even as I descend the hill I see the firemen working to douse the upcoming blaze. By the time I pass them the fire is well and truly out.

It's about this time I get a call from Meagan saying that she is almost dead from weariness some way ahead of me. I tell her to take it easy and I will try and catch up to her. For myself, I am still quite drained from my own climb and the crossing of the valley so I can quite relate to what is going on with her.

Now the trees off the road are entirely dense and impenetrable with foliage, and I can see the clouds cruising in with an ominous dark tint. The rain starts as I come across a gas station where I hide under an awning, drink some chocolate milk and call my parents, friends and Meagan (who has turned her phone off). The owners of the station let me know that Meagan had passed by about 30 minutes earlier.

Moments before I go to leave, Gary (my host from last night) strolls in the gas station. He lets me know that he has spoken with Meagan, and that I am some 5 kilometers behind her. Wishing me luck, I leave and take on the final climb before entering the town of Kamloops. My legs are extremely tired and I break every couple hundred feet. On one of these breaks my friend Sandy calls me to return my call from a few minutes earlier which she had missed. We chat for a few minutes, she wishes me love and good luck and I grind my way to the summit.

Around one final bend is Kamloops, and a few quick calls to Meagan gets me to the Petro Canada diner after a short but pleasant ride into town. Meagan is sitting with three other women (apparently friends, and friends of friends) who have arrived from Merritt. Gloria is Meagan's oldest and best friends, and with her she has brought Holly and Shareen. We gab about the trip for a few minutes, then the conversation drifts off to the Landmark Forum, which Shareen is interested in taking.

Dinner wraps up a short while later, and Gloria and friends invite Meagan and I to a drum circle. Cool, I think and volunteer the two of us as compatriots for the evening. Before we head down to the event, Meagan and I scoot over the nearest hotel and unpack our things. Jumping in Shareen's car we zip downtown Kamloops only to discover that the smoke is pouring out of the drivers side front wheel well. Apparently the break has seized. We get out of the car, and Shareen goes off to park the vehicle.

It's at this point that Meagan expresses her displeasure with having to come by stomping around and huffing and puffing (no kidding, she actually was stomping and huffing and puffing!). We briefly talk, and she tells me that she really didn't want to come, but felt all sorts of pressure from me as well as Gloria.

In the few minutes I take to go find where Shareen has parked, Meagan jumps into a cab and disappears to places unknown. I find Shareen, however now everyone else has disappeared. Sometime passes while Shareen and I sit by her car, hoping for people to show up. Gloria shows up and says she is pissed off Meagan left after she had driven up from Merritt just to see her. Not only that, Holly has totally disappeared.

We agree to meet Gloria when she finds Holly at the drum circle, and Shareen and I wander off in that direction. At this point I should mention that I am really not concerned with Meagan leaving. I understand she is tired and didn't want to come in the first place, so I expect that since she is a big girl she has taken care of herself and left when I wasn't around so that she wouldn't feel pressured to stay. So Shareen and I arrive at the drum circle, and I am sorely disappointed. It turns out that there are two people with drums and about two dozen kids doings some variety of drugs, drinking and smoking. What's more, the drummers only play for a few minutes before being distracted into chatting with the comers and goers.

Gloria arrives some minutes later, and after a brief conversation is over her upset regarding how the evening is going. Holly is apparently uninterested in the drum circle thing entirely and is more concerned with getting home safely given that her ride is now unusable as reliable transportation. She has called her father and is waiting for him to come up from Merritt.

Gloria also introduces two people who are now with her, her uncle and aunt. Between the four of us, we conclude that we aren't terribly interested in hanging around. Shareen says she wants to stay so we say farewell, and head back to the aunt and uncles car. They agree to take me back to the hotel, and as we leave we see Holly, also leaving with her dad (I presume). Gloria says she is going to go with her instead and leaves me alone with the aunt and uncle.

We chat on the short ride back to the hotel, where I thank them for the ride, and head to my room. Meagan is fast asleep already and after a few minutes on my laptop I am done for the evening.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Day 9 - Start, Stop and Other Adventures

Knock knock knock.

Someone is at the door. My goodness, what time is it? Meagan staggers to the door, and Audry is looking in with a face expressing some degree of surprise. "Oh my, most cyclists are up and gone by this point". Meagan rejoins, "Well, we aren't most cyclists".

Blackness.

Sometime later I emerge from slumber and take Meagan's abandoned sleeping bag which is lying innocently on the hide-a-bed mattress she placed on the floor for the night. My own resting place on the couch was blanketless and hardly comfortable during the night and I fully intend to make the best of the next few minutes before the demands of the day set in.

It turns out that the teahouse also makes breakfast and we make our way over to enjoy french-toast, bacon and a couple eggs, then the packing starts, completes and after a brief tour of the Manor, we are on the road again. Almost immediately we encounter problems, this time with Meagan's bike. A significant wobble has materialized whenever she picks up some speed; well lucky thing we are only a few kilometers outside of the town of Cache Creek where we will be able to get most things repaired since I happen to know of a very convenient bike shop in town.

Unfortunately, Neil, the repairman is out of town at some sort of geocaching meeting, however, his sister-in-law Meghan (Sorry! I forget how you spell it!) is about, and lets us know that he will be back at 5:00 PM. Hmmm, I guess we'll be taking the day off. However before we go, we secure a place for ourselves behind their house and then we're off to explore Cache Creek.

Well, first thing on my list is to do a wee bit of laundry. Luckily, we pass the laundromat within mere moments of saying farewell to Meghan. My pocket is full of loonies, and twonies, however I notice that the machines mostly take quarters. Looking around for a change machine I notice a sign which directs me to go next door.

Next door is Bill Stadnyk, quickly he changes my big coins to smaller ones, and as a turn to leave I encounter the balance of his house. Floor to ceiling and wall to wall his house is lined with shelves, bearing of all things, accordions. Laundry can wait, and at once I ask what this is all about. It turns out, Bill is an accordion repair man, the only one in BC outside of Victoria. I call Meagan in to see, and turn to see Bill running to get one of his most favorite instruments.

The following hour is filled with Bill sharing his life and soul with us. From one instrument to the next he plays his music, shares his experiences, pleasures and passion with us. A tour of his shop, an explanation of the workings of the instrument and tune upon tune comes out of the man. The passion of the man brings tears to my eyes. Like no kidding.

Amazing.

Finally we say goodbye, and make our way to Chum's Restaurant. I get some work done, check my email, write some letters and occasionally run back and forth to the laundromat. This goes on for a couple hours until Neil the bike guy strolls up behind me and says, "I hear you need some work done". Well cool. I direct Neil back to his shop where Meagan is now waiting for him, and then pack up and get ready to leave myself. As I leave I see a man in t-shirt and shorts walking down the in front of the restaurant. I call out, "Looks like you are on an adventure". He turns around and says, "Yeah, I'm biking across Canada".

Boy, I must have a sixth or seventh sense pointing me at these people.

Anyways, his name is Terry and is planning on making his way most of the way across the country this summer with a follow up trip next year. At 68 years old he has already biked most of the way around the world and this tour of his home country is the final step in that achievement.

Parting ways with Terry, I head down to the bike shop where a young boy (his name is Quest) runs out of the yard and says, "Yay, Ted is here". Turns out my arrival has been anticipated. Meagan's wobble is now fixed and Neil is working on assorted tune-ups. The Meghan and Gary's (Neils brother) children are playing in the yard and come over to keep me company. The three boys are great little kids who ask all the really important questions like, "did you bring me any toys"?

Neil completes work on Meagan's bike, and turns his attention to mine. After a few minutes he has things tightened and adjusted in a variety of ways to improve my lot on the road. We go around back of the house to set up our tents for the evening and withdraw indoors to chat. The evening finally concludes with Meagan and I sharing our daring adventures and exciting experiences with Gary, Meghan and Neil. The kids are now in bed and finally we ourselves climb into our respective tents on the beautiful lawn to sleep.

And so concludes day 9.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Day 8 - Coincidence

One of the really great things about being in a desert is the low likelihood of being rained on. On nights such as these I like to leave the fly of my tent off so I can enjoy the breeze as well as watch the stars through the fine netting. The pleasure of watching ants and little creatures vainly attempt to climb inside and eat me is only surpassed by the joy of knowing that sleep can proceed with utter disregard for all the little crawlies that wiggle about.

The road down from Hilltop Campground is comprised of a series of small and moderate hills until we reach the base of the climb known as Oregon-Jack. The climb here pulls the two of us out of the valley; however like many things in my life, there is a bit of drama associated with this too. I arrive at the beginning of the hill to discover that traffic is being blocked by a construction crew which is preparing to do some blasting on the cliff aside of the road along the ascent.

The folks waiting for the crew to signal the all clear are questioning me about my trip and a couple mention that they have seen both myself and Meagan a number of times as they journey up and down the highway on their day to day errands. The crew signals that I should proceed by myself and make a head start; however I am only part way up the hill when I see Meagan's bike on the back of a truck cruising past me on the way up the hill. Apparently she was offered a ride, and couldn't resist the temptation.

Meagan is dropped off about halfway up the climb, and quickly guns her way to the top. Slowly but steadily I gain on her and by the time she reaches the summit, I am only a minute or so behind her.

From here there are a couple of minor dips and rises, however we are now out of the formal part of the valley and about 35 KM from the town of Ashcroft. The terrain here is now showing a number of trees, however the majority of them appear to be dead as they are entirely brown. Apparently the ravages of the pine beetle has been a major force in this area. The grass and shrubbery along side of the highway is still utterly dry, and there is absolutely no shade to be seen, and what is more the sun is roasting the countryside alive.

A crack of thunder in this situation grabs my attention almost immediately. I turn around, and behind me is a dark and powerful looking thunderhead powering down upon us from behind. The smell of ozone fills the air, and wouldn't you know it, my back wheel is flat. A call to Meagan ahead of me doesn't reach her and the last I see of her is the flag on her bike waving so long around the nearest bend.

Well, there is nothing for it except to dismount and fix the flat. At this point in my life I have fixed 37 flat tires, and now am working on the 38th. In moments, the sun vanishes behind a deep and dark cloud, the wind buffets me from all directions and I almost rip the wheel off the bike in my urgency. Patch kit out, glue applied, patch applied, pressure, remount the tube, the tire, the wheel, and someone says "Well, hello there". Meagan is standing next to me. Where did she come from? Well, apparently the moment she went around the corner, she too had encountered a flat tire and was waiting for me to come rescue her.

Given this, the urgency, wind and clouds disappear almost at the same time. Leisurely we stroll around the corner, remove her wheel, replace the tube, and are back on the road after an entirely respectable amount of time.

The road from the corner of flat tires to Ashton once again becomes witheringly hot, and the moderate amount of farmland in the area is the only indication that we are once again reaching irrigated climbs. A short while later we encounter the Ashton Manor which is a perfect rest stop for traveling cyclists. The teahouse is air conditioned and Kim and Audry (I hope I have your names right) rent us a cabin for the night at an entirely respectable rate.

The rest of evening is spent relaxing, chatting and playing computer games (entirely frivolous, and entirely enjoyable).

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Day 7 - Yummy

This morning starts out gradually. The countryside, and specifically the campground has given way to the desert and the layer of needles on the ground is almost completely dry. Last night as the fire smoldered and I sat and typed, the thought occurred that perhaps this would be a fire hazard, however I was attentive and no problems have arisen between then and now.

Climbing out of my tent and carefully picking my way over the dry needles on the way to find a fresh pair of socks I conclude that a restaurant made breakfast will be much more appealing than the drivel (or whatever) that I would otherwise be able to create given my currently meager set of supplies.

The balance of the packing concludes quickly enough, however I am dismayed to discover that the battery in my camera has drained. Well, off to the restaurant and we will find batteries later. At this point I should admit that although I have just gotten up, and am more or less ready to start the day, it is currently just past 11:00 AM in the morning. At this rate the day will only start at the crack of noon as my roommate Mario says.

Given the time, breakfast becomes lunch and my first meal of the day is a cheeseburger with fries. Yummy. (I see you there shaking your head with disapproval). It is during this meal that I meet Jaycee, who has just arrived herself with breakfast intentions in the same genre as mine. One interesting thing about Jaycee is that she has only got one leg; the other apparently was lost in a bike accident some years ago.

She lights up over the conversation in which topics range wildly, from the possibility of her doing her own cross country tour with a hand powered bicycle to hummingbirds and beyond. After we leave the restaurant, purchase batteries at the next door market and prepare to hit the road Jaycee comes out and sends us off with her best wishes. My last sight of her is her squinting at the back of her camera as she documents the event.

Now at this point things are clearly starting to shift physically for me. My legs seem to be able to easily power me up the first hill of the morning, and as I crest it, the view of the Thompson river blows me away. This river is powerful, as anyone can attest to who has viewed the rapids just east of Lytton. Enormous volumes of water pass here every moment of every day, and of course make there way south to the confluence with the Fraser River where things become truly astounding (Hell's Gate is a good place to observe this result).

Meagan and I slowly become separated over the course of the day as the heat and wears on us both. A number of moderate climbs and one long gradual ascent leads eventually to Spences Bridge.

Here we take advantage of not one but two delightful little restaurants, jump onto the internet for the first time in a while and then finally make our way up a hill and around the corner to the Hilltop Campground just north of Spences Bridge. The campground is at the lower bound of number a orchard, has a babbling brook, excellent showers, powered sites (although no Internet access :) ).

The balance of the evening is spent chatting with the fellow campsite goers, the repairman and Annette, a summer long resident of the campground and relative of the owners.

Monday, June 08, 2009

Day 6 - Miracle on Highway 1

Today started out fairly easily as far as these things go. I pack my gear and Meagan's tent as she makes breakfast, and then wash up in Betty's kitchen. After and hour or so of chatting we push out for the highway, where it occurs to me that I want to check my email and such before I hit the road.

Meagan is ok with this, but tells me that she is going to leave right away.

Well, ok. I'll meet up with her in Lytton.

So up to this point we have been told that there is a fairly significant mountain coming up between Boston Bar and Lytton know as Jackass Mountain.

Well, I do my computer stuff and get on the bike about a full hour after Meagan has left. The first two hours of riding seems to go by fairly smoothly and although there are a few hills along the route, I am not over challenged by them until I notice that my bike is suddenly riding kind of weird.

As I look down at the rear tire there is a loud bang, and the valve stem blows off. Hmm, I don't have a spare tube with me at this point.

Well, as I stop the bike and dismount I notice a car pulling up behind me. And who is leaning out the window is Donald from yesterday.

Donald comes up to me wanting to apologize for not being able to host us yesterday when I interrupt him and mention that I am now in need of some help regarding my rear wheel.

So Al (Donald's brother), who is driving the car says that he will zip me up ahead to Meagan to pick up the patch kit in case it will help, and Donald will guard the bike. So off we go, surprise Meagan, grab the patch kit and head back to the bike.

Al thinks he may have a spare tube in his assortment of parts, and he and Donald leave me with my bike on the side of the road to go off and look. Well, sure enough nothing can be done with the tube, and I eventually just take a nap on the side of the road hoping that the guys will be eventually make there way back.

Although it takes most of an hour, they finally reappear, unfortunately with empty hands. Hmm.

Well, I seem to remember that as I entered a tunnel the day before I saw a message regarding a bike shop in Cache Creek (110 km away). Well, Al, will you drive me to Cache Creek and back?

Sure.

So Al, Donald and I drive up the road and let Meagan know what's going on, then Al and Donald drop me off at an Esso (own by a Korean/Canadian named Woo) while they search for someone for Donald to hang around with. Well, no such luck however, Donald isn't terribly interested in making the long trip and jumps out of the car with the intention of making it back to Boston Bar somehow.

From here, Al and I cruise off down the highway, where he introduces me to the world of spirituality according to Al, and along the way he shows me various landmarks and notable items along the way.

Pulling into Cache Creek, we find a series of wooden signs pointing down back roads and side streets to the location of the bike shop. Neil is the owner of Cache Creek Cycle Parts, and sells me his last 27" tube, a new kickstand and a new bike seat.

The ride back is very pleasant however, I am now noticing all the significant climbs that we will be encountering in the coming days... Oh well.

Finally arriving back in Lytton we look in the first campground we encounter and sure enough, there is Meagan setting up the site. Al drops me off, and with many thanks is on his own way again. Meagan turns to me and says, I knew I shouldn't have doubted you'd make it back.

And that is today's miracle on highway 1; goodnight.

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Day 5 - Two cyclists go into a bar

Day 5 unlike all the previous days in the trip does not start in a Motel; rather I find myself stiff, sore, and crabby. Mostly I am crabby because I am stiff and sore and not getting any attention about it. Well, so be it.

Meagan is making breakfast as I stagger blearily out of my tent. As I make my way over to the picnic table she tells me it's going to be rice pudding. mmmm, I like rice pudding. However, this is rice pudding on remarkably few supplies, so really it's just rice with blueberry yogurt poured over top. Well, who am I to complain, so I stuff my face and pack up.

My plan, with which Meagan whole heartily agrees is to take today easy. We are about 30 KM from Boston Bar and I don't intend to go any further than that. Meagan strikes out about 30 minutes ahead of me, and by the time I am on the road she is long gone.

Well, after I pass through a couple tunnels, I see in the distance that the highway is navigating its way up the hill on its way to some faraway distant tunnel at a considerably higher altitude than the one I am currently on. In the distance I can see Meagan pushing her bike with my trusty set of binoculars, and I resolve to try and catch her.

Well, this plan lasts until I am about three quarters the way up the hill (about 40 minutes from the start) when I turn around and notice that the flag which normally adorns the back of my trailer is missing. Gasp! Oh No, I must have dropped it! I cannot lose that flag, I have carried it with me for the thousands of kilometers and recovered from many almost assured losses.

Now the question is, should I descend the hill or just say so long.

I go after the flag.

Naturally, I don't encounter the flag anywhere on the way down the hill. In fact, it is only as I make my way to entrance of the last tunnel before the climb that I find it lying innocently on the side of the highway.

Oh well. The climb takes me a full hour and half at this point, and I stagger into the Elvis Rocks the Mountain (valley maybe?) cafe at the summit and call out for water.

The rest of the trip into Boston Bar is painful. My legs, which have been sore up to this point are now constantly throbbing, and as I pull into a cafe my only thought (other than where Meagan is) is to dull the pain.

Anyways lunch is bought for me by my next door table mate, and I eventually see Meagan trundling down the road.

Meeting a number of the town locals while looking for a backyard in which to to camp, we meet a remarkable character by the name of Donald. He is so talkative it is almost impossible to get a word in, unfortunately he cannot host us, however, we find lodging behind Betty's house.

The rest of the evening is spent chatting with a local tradesman by the name of Rick who teaches us about his beard and what life is like for him these days.

Across Canada by Bicycle