Changes.

From our St Helens trip in 2010

Warning: This post is definitely intensely personal in nature and lacks fun bicycle talk (for the most part). If this isn’t your bag, skip this post and read something from the past. Because there ain’t gonna be many posts in the near-term.

Hello friends. Yep, haven’t posted much here lately. This isn’t necessarily by choice. And for the near future, there won’t be much here, alas. I’m still planning on organizing my thoughts regarding my Central Oregon Cascades Tour, but that may not happen as soon as I’d like. And I’m still planning on revamping and switching this blog over to Wordpress, but that might not be until September at the earliest. Nope, I’ve got bigger issues in my life to deal with right now.

April and I are breaking up.

This is not an easy thing for me. We’ve been together for nearly four and a half years. We’ve lived together for over three years. We did that big Cross-Continent Tour in 2011 and our relationship survived. We’ve shared a lot of memories and experiences. We built a life together. I was looking forward to spending many more years with April. And now it’s ending. I don’t want this to happen, but in this situation it wasn’t my choice.

Without getting too much into personal detail, I’ll say the main reason of the break-up was “irreconcilable differences.” Differences that were always beneath the surface, differences that I thought we could somehow look past. But it had come to a head.

Looking back, I could see that our relationship had been on decline for some bit. Why yes, we argued as every couple does, but there were no real big blow-ups. No, it was more of a steady coast downhill. Interests diverged, we did less together, etc. To put it bluntly, we stopped growing as a couple.

If I were to soberly analyze the situation,  I feel that we had steady upward growth as a couple from when we started going out in February 2009 to the conclusion of the Cross-Continent Tour in October 2011. From that point on, the growth halted, entropy set in. We still had good times together, but I feel that we both went through the motions since our return to Portland. Why? Well, the first year had our initial exploration of our relationship. The following year (2010) was our first foray into co-habitation in the apartment in Montavilla. Then most of 2011 was occupied with the big lead up to the trip and the trip itself. As much as we tried not to, there was a lot riding on that tour in every department. We hoped for a life-changing experience and we did get one.

But then we returned home to Portland and fell into old traps. We ended up moving back into April’s old place, the one she lived in before moving in with me, and with her old room-mates to boot. It was never supposed to be anything more than a temporary situation, but it was easy and it was familiar, and two years later we’re still there. I never felt that comfortable there, as it was April’s old place, not mine. I’ve always felt like I was in limbo. And to add to the limbo, I didn’t gain regular employment until almost a year upon return (April even longer, she just got a steady job a few months ago). And that “regular employment” is the hostel, the same job I held for FIVE years before I went on the trip. Once again, it was easy and it was familiar. But that’s not always good.

I’ve heard this happen from other people who have done long trips, bike tour or otherwise. You see so many amazing and fascinating things out there, and you do grow. But you have to return to “real life” at one point, and that’s boring. Working at the hostel, I’ve seen folks who just keep on traveling for YEARS with no plan, because they are too scared to deal with real life again. But for us, not only did we return to real life, we returned to the same real life that we had before the trip, contrary to our intent. We hoped that we’d be doing different things when we got back. I’m not saying that my life right now is inherently bad. Despite its frustrations, the hostel is still a good job. Our apartment is in a good location. And I have had some growth in some areas over the past two years. For example, I’ve done several randonnees, including a 200 kilometre one, the longest ride I’ve done. I haven’t had an extensive bike tour since the big one, but I’ve done several small ones exploring areas of the Pacific Northwest that I hadn’t explored before. 

But honestly, these past two years have been more holding pattern than anything else. Nothing big has changed (except now, obviously.) A lot of this I feel stems from the conclusion of the Tour. Rather than a triumphant accomplishment of the goals we set, the last month of the tour was a long wind-down. We realized that due to time and money we weren’t going to get all the way across the continent after all. A lot of good things happened on the Tour and we got to see some amazing stuff. But the final disappointment was a black cloud above my head, and looking up, I see it’s still there. I’m still disappointed that we didn’t properly “finish” the tour, and I know that some of you readers (and former readers) are too.

The Cross-Continent Tour was probably the best thing that happened to our relationship, as we had a great time together through thick and thin, and amazingly didn’t split up on the road. But it was also probably the worst thing that happened to our relationship. After that high, where could we go? If we had a different situation upon return, one where we really had to figure things out and not fall back on old, pre-tour routines, maybe this long downhill slide may not have happened. Or maybe it would have been much faster? Who knows.

So where do I go from here? This next month will be rough, as I come to terms with the dissolution of our relationship. Things will have to be sorted out, and I need to find a new home. In the long-run I know things will work themselves out but right now I feel anxious and uneasy. Especially since I know things need to change. I can’t keep on coasting, for lack of a better term. I’ll be 38 in August, and while that is by no means old, it ain’t young either. There are things I want to, no NEED to, change about myself. I need to get my teeth fixed. I want to lose some weight. I need to do more art. I need to figure out what the fuck to do with my life. But what does that mean? Every time I think about becoming more of a “professional” artist, I get reminded of the difficulties of drawing work for others, whether it be impossible demands, “it’s fine but could you change, oh, everything?”, or my least favorite, chasing down clients for money. I’ve been wanting to “do something with bikes” for a number of years, but what exactly? I don’t want to be a mechanic. I don’t have the patience or background to become a professional “wonk". Leading bike tours could be interesting, but there’s loads of logistics, insurance, liability, etc. I’ve looked into working for some local tour companies but they are either unreceptive or they want someone who can also be a mechanic. And let’s not talk about the local bike delivery companies, shall we?

Lately my biggest desire has been to just get out there and ride. After being on the road for four and a half months in 2011, the past couple years I’ve had no desire for a big trip. But I feel that come next year or the year after that, I will. Probably not four-plus months, but maybe a month or two. I’ve only traveled in the US and Canada, so at some point I’m going to NEED to tour overseas. And I won’t be satisfied until I “finish” the Cross-Continent tour and ride from the Midwest to the East Coast. But I won’t be finishing it with April, and that’s probably the biggest bummer of all.

Just so that you all know, I wish no ill will towards April. We shall remain friends. We’ll most likely never do a long tour together again but at some point we may go on a camping trip together, probably with Cycle Wild. I don’t think April will try another big cross-country tour any time in the near future (due to work and interest) but I do know that she’s had her heart set for some time on a solo tour down the Pacific Coast, and also would love to revisit the Icefields Parkway. And I hope she makes that happen.

So let’s end this on a somewhat brighter note. April, we had a good four and a half years together. We learned a lot about ourselves and each other. We had some great adventures together. You were sane enough to put up with my shit, and were also crazy enough to travel across the continent with me. There were some tough times, rough times, but looking back I’ll always fondly remember the good. You cared deeply about me and I cared deeply for you. April Wiza, you will always hold a special place in my heart. I love you. We won’t be sharing our lives together any longer, but I look forward to you having a great future.

Spotted in Montana

Remember that big-ass tour I did last year? The one where April and I attempted to cross the country? One month in I realized it would be nice to have a "calling card" of some sort, something to give to people we meet on the road. One night in Missoula, I hastily whipped one up and the next day I printed up some.

We gave them out here and there, and put some up where we felt it called for it. We stayed at Brownie's Hostel (HI-Glacier) when we went through in early July 2011. I forgot all about it...until Robert of Rootless in Place shared this photo. He went through in July of this year, and the flyer was still up.

Wonder if it will be up in 2013?

(Almost) Paradise: Yet another weekend overnight bicycle camping trip!

The Portland area is still in this peculiar pattern of "nice weekends". While the weekdays have been a mixed bag of some okay weather mixed with various levels of rain and tepid temps hovering in the 50's F (10-16C), the weekends have been sunny and warm. And the weekend of Saturday the 21st and Sunday the 22nd of April have been the awesomest so far, as temps ranged from 75 to 82F (24-27C). Yes, we've finally hit eighty degrees!

So what better way to celebrate it by another bicycle overnight! Yep, this makes three weekends in a row. This weekend only the enigmatic Todd B. was available, so it made trip planning a bit easier. But the big question was: where to go?

I didn't want to go anywhere that we'd been recently, so that cut out the Columbia Gorge, Battle Ground Lake, and Sunset. Didn't feel like hitting Stub Stewart again (which we visited on New Years). None of the southerly destinations like McIver or Champoeg excited me, and I didn't feel like going up the Clackamas River. I wanted to keep the riding to 40 miles (70km) and under, so that cut out going to the coast or up to Seaquest. And I wanted to try somewhere new. But where would be new and within 40 miles? Scaponia was closed due to "water issues", Oxbow still closed indefinitely, and Clackamas County parks like Metzler and Barton did not open until May. This narrowed down the choices even more.

There were two contenders: Dougan Creek in Yacolt State Forest up in Washington along the Washougal, and Paradise Point State Park outside of La Center, WA. Dougan sounded interesting, and since it's maintained by the Washington Department of Natural Resources (DNR), it's free. But there would be no water available, meaning we'd have to haul it all in (neither of us have water filters). And the Washougal River has the highest concentration of recreational "yahoos" in the metro area. It was still early in the season so the likelihood that it would be infested with them would be lower than July. But was this the risk we wanted to run after biking almost 40 miles to get there? So Paradise Point it was.

Paradise Point has had a special significance to me over the past year. It was to be our stop for our first night bike touring on the Cross-Con Tour. But about three miles from the park April had "stem extender failure" so we got rescued by Todd B. instead. We got a ride to Kelso, 30 miles north of Paradise Point, the next day and continued riding. We never got to see the park. For the sake of completion I wanted to camp there at least one night at some point.

Paradise Point is also the bastard stepchild of the local camping destinations. If we were going to make an A list and B list of local destinations, Paradise would be at the bottom of the B, maybe even in the C list. And what's wrong with it? It's only a 20 mile ride from downtown Vancouver, WA. The ride is moderate: some suburban riding, some rolling hills, no real climbs. It's even got primitive campsites which are great for bicycle tourists. No, what pushes Paradise down the list is its proximity to Interstate 5, the highly trafficked highway corridor of the West Coast. Paradise Point is right on I-5. Now this isn't the park's fault per se, as the park came first. But having campsites about a city block away from a six lane freeway does not sound like "paradise" to most. But I was willing to give the park at least one shot, to know what was there, so I would have a concrete answer when someone asked me what my opinion of the park was.

Leaving Portland, heading on over the Interstate (I-5) bridge to Vancouver, WA

Since the ride was going to be short and easy, I did not even leave my house until about 12:30pm on Saturday. I met Todd at his house in the Hough neighborhood of Vancouver a little after 2pm. We chose a route that was serviceable: suburban roads with mostly bike lanes for the first half, quieter county roads through rolling countryside for the second half. Some nice scenes abound:

Mount Saint Helens, woot!

And for no reason, a replica of the Golden Gate Bridge...in Clark County! NE 10th and 209th.

After 33 miles of riding for myself (about 20 for Todd),we arrived at the park around 5pm and made a beeline for the primitive sites back into the woods. This is when we were let in on the big let-down: the primitive sites were closed for the season. I did not remember seeing anything about this on their website. (After re-examining it twice after getting home. I found the info but it was buried in the site. Therefore, I am burying the info at the bottom of this page.*) And this is why it matters so much: 1) The primitive sites were the furthest from the freeway and lousy with trees, so it would be much quieter back there and 2) The primitive sites were only $12, whereas the standard sites $21. Quite the difference. If I had known that the primitive sites were closed, we would have not come here.

Todd sets up his hammock.

So we made do with a regular site. Yes, it was noisier but I didn't notice the constant hum after awhile.** We made dinner and Todd pulled out ye olde shortwave radio, where we managed to tune in CBC and Radio Havana for awhile! (Radio Havana is big on the stamp collecting, if you are interested.) Since I had the bivy sack I hoped to catch a little of the Leonid meteor shower overnight, but alas, it clouded over.

In the morn we made our respective breakfasts and coffee. The only tragedy for myself on this trip happened when I didn't realize the "O" ring on the Trangia fuel cap came off the cap and rested on the burner. So I ignited the burner and ended up burning the O ring. Thankfully I was aware of what was happening and managed to yank the O ring off the flame in time so it didn't melt over the stove. Whew.

On departing the park we checked out Paradise Point's big selling point (besides disc golf, if that's yer thing): Its proximity to the East Fork Lewis River. This is the "Paradise" of the Paradise Point. It was indeed pretty.

Once you got over I-5 overhead.

And you can swim in the river...if you dare.

We took a longer, more meandery route home in order to check out the small town of Ridgefield. It's mostly bypassed by I-5 so "downtown" is pretty sleepy, but had stuff oriented towards touristas like us: a couple restaurants, a couple markets, a coffee shop/theater, and a wine bar. Too bad I was on a budget so I didn't really partake in much while there. Ridgefield also afforded some great views of the Columbia River bottomlands, which were resplendent in spring colors.

It was about 25 miles to Todd's house from the park, and we had a few beers before I had to depart for Portland. Despite the negatives mentioned above, it was a fun weekend trip. Would I go to Paradise Point again? Probably not, unless it was on the way to somewhere else. Just like we were supposed to do the first time!

More photos of the trip can be found here.
The route to Paradise Point here.
The route back from Paradise Point here.


*To find it, go to the main webage for the park:

http://www.parks.wa.gov/parks/?selectedpark=Paradise%20Point&subject=all

you have to click on "Winter Schedule for Washington State Parks" link:

http://www.parks.wa.gov/parkschedule/

Then scroll down to what it indicates for Paradise Point:

"Sites 44 - 79 close Oct. 15, reopen May 1."

Well, what are those sites? Well then, you have to go back to the main page and click on the link for the "reservation system and online map":

https://secure.camis.com/WA/ParadisePointStatePark

and then you have to click on "sites 1 through 79" in step 3 to get you here:

https://secure.camis.com/WA/ParadisePointStatePark/Sites1-79andYurts?Map

and then click on EACH INDIVIDUAL icon to find which one are the primitives (hint: 71-79), or check the "Legend".

Yeah, really intuitive. Yeah, that's sarcasm. How many steps is that? Couldn't they just say "Primitive closed in off-season"? Nah, too logical.

**Thankfully we managed to set up away from the teens who got kicked out by the ranger early in the eve. They were drinking Bacardi and had a handgun on the table(?) I have a feeling that the yahoo factor at this park can get a little high in the summer.

The Oregon History Comics release is Sunday, PLUS Urban Adventure League workshoppy-presentationy type events for Spring!

First, I'd like to remind my eleven loyal readers that there is a release party for the Oregon History Comics box set written by Sarah Mirk, for which I illustrated the comic on Oregon Bicycle History. It will be happening this Sunday, March 4th, at 7:30pm at the main Powell's downtown. The full details can be found here.

As part of the promotion for this event, the Portland Mercury, one of the two local alt-weeklies (but the snarkier, better one) had a decent write-up. I'm not mentioned in it (cue The Replacements song "Left of the Dial",) but in the print edition of the piece there is an actual illustration of me. You see, not only did I illustrate a comic in this series, but there is also one about me. Well, it's about Portland's Dead Freeways, which is a ride I lead, so I'm featured. (If you actually pick up that comic, you'd think I lost 80 pounds before the ride I led. Seriously.) So I'm in two of the comics.

And the Dill Pickle Club (the publisher of the series) has an "interview" with me over here. Unfortunately they edited it down because I'm supposing they wanted a more "serious" tone than I was in the mood to provide. So they cut out what I felt were the two best questions/responses, the first and last. For your benefit, I will include them below:

Tell us a little bit about your process for illustrating the comic.
Step One: Get the sketchbook open. Two: Make some coffee. Three: Sharpen pencil. Four: Coffee is getting low, make more. Five: Look at script and reference art, scratch head. Six: Damn, that coffee went fast! Should I use the Moka Pot or the French Press this time? Seven: Is the pencil sharp enough? Eight: Isn’t it 10pm? “Get the Led Out” should be on KGON. Can’t have enough Zeppelin in your life. Nine: I don’t think I can drink any more coffee. Ten: Draw comic.

Anything else you'd like to add? 
“Get the Led out” normally consists of three Zeppelin songs.

*****
Anyways, there is some awesome Urban Adventure League happenings in the near future!

First up, I've been invited to "speak" at this month's Bicycle Brown Bag. The Brown Bag is a lunchtime series hosted by the Portland Bureau of Transportation (PBOT) that occurs every third Thursday at noon at City Hall or the Portland Building. This month they are talking about the Oregon History Comic that I drew, so it will be myself and Sarah Mirk!

The details:
Thursday March 15th
noon-1 pm
City Hall,  1221 SW 4th Ave 
2nd Floor -Lovejoy Room
And as this is a "Brown Bag" you are encouraged to bring lunch, so long as you don't throw it at me. Bonus points if you bring me a veggie burrito.

And spring is coming, so that means a return of my ever-popular Bicycle Touring Workshop!

Bicycle Touring Workshop
Monday April 2nd
6:30pm
HI-Portland, Hawthorne Hostel
3031 SE Hawthorne Blvd (in the Mt. Tabor Room)
Are you itching to hit the open road and explore nature in a way you haven't yet? Are you a regular bicycle rider but have never taken a bicycle tour? Then join us to learn more about Self-Supported Bicycle Touring, We'll be discussing equipment, planning, and cost as well as day-to-day life on the road. We'll also have a few loaded touring bikes to check out. Touring can be easy as an overnight camping expedition close to home, and can be as complicated as a cross-country or around-the-world expedition! But it will be fun!


Note: I will have another Bike Touring Workshop during Pedalpalooza.

And did you want to hear about April and my adventures touring across the continent in person? Yes you do!

TRAVEL STORIES
Monday April 16th
7pm
HI-Portland, Hawthorne Hostel,
3031 SE Hawthorne Blvd (in the Mt. Tabor Room)
During the summer of 2011, intrepid travelers and Portland citizens April Wiza and Shawn Granton rode their bicycles nearly 4,000 miles from the Rose City to the Windy City. Riding through western mountains and central prairies, the couple explored pristine natural areas and bustling urban centers in the US and Canada. It was a journey of big cities and bear encounters, spectacular Rocky Mountain heights and Great Lakes lows, meeting many an interesting folk along the way. They'll share stories and photos and hopefully inspire you to take a two-wheeled adventure of your own!


And finally, for those who want to lead bicycle rides, especially during Pedalpalooza:

Bike Fun Workshop
Thursday May 10th
7pm
HI-Portland, Hawthorne Hostel, 
3031 SE Hawthorne Blvd (in the Mt. Tabor Room)
Pedalpalooza will soon be upon us. Will this be the year that you finally lead your own ride? But maybe you have some reservations, since you've never herded a group of bicyclists around before. What goes into the planning of a bicycle event? How can you make it not suck? Join bicycle event planning "experts" Carl Larson and Shawn Granton as they go over the process, step by step, of creating bicycle events from scratch. Planning, logistics, promotions, and more will be covered. By the end of this workshop, we will have posted a ride to the Pedalpalooza calendar!

More Blog Mentions, and Yes, Tomorrow is a Holiday

Hello friends! Seems like the Urban Adventure League is getting a bit of internet attention this week! First it's the Old Three-Speed Gallery. And today I found out that Adventure Cycling talked about some photos I uploaded to their Group Pool. Highlighted is this piece of bike touring graffiti found atop Loup Loup Pass in Washington:

And if you are in the United States of Something Something, you know that tomorrow (Thursday the 24) is indeed the holiday we call "Thanksgiving". April and I will be celebrating it this year at her family's place in the western suburb known as Beavertron, er, Beaverton. As per tradition, I will stuff myself with Tofurky.

Hope y'all have a good holiday out there!

It's too late to turn back, here we go...*

April and I are having an enjoyable time here in Chicago. Our hosts Ellen and Paul (and here too) have been great. Despite a downpour we got on Friday, the weather has been pretty decent. A quick recap of our Windy City Adventures:

• Friday, September 30: We attend Critical Mass! I've attended many a CM over the past decade in many a city. But Chicago is the largest city that I've ridden Critical Mass. The downpour occurred right before the ride, but spirits were not dampened. My educated guess is there were 300 riders, and probably 5% of them asked about our trip, as we were still fully loaded when we got on the ride. We only experienced about 40 minutes of the ride, as I got a flat. Rather than go through the trouble of patching it there, we decided to take the "L"** to Rogers Park, where Paul and Ellen live. This was an adventure. The station where we boarded the train did not have an elevator, meaning we had to negotiate TWO flights of stairs. Reminds me how we are spoiled in Portland, as every MAX station is accessible, the benefit of getting a rail system AFTER people started to care about that stuff.***
• Saturday, October 1: Our umpteenth REI visit, plus yummy beers at Goose Island.
• Sunday, October 2: April and I attended the monthly bicyclists brunch, hosted by Dottie from Let's Go Ride A Bike. (Technically it's a woman-only event, but I got a pass since we were "special guests" on tour.) Good food, great people. I also got to meet Samantha from Ding Ding Let's Ride! After the brunch, we hung out in front of the cafe (Deeleece on Southport) where we talked about all the beautiful bikes (mostly loop frames, natch, though a few diamond frames, causing April to exclaim "We're not alone!") and took photos of said beautiful bikes.
• Monday, October 3: Uh, we made it to Trader Joes?

Chicago has been good. Though, god, is it a city! We get that impression from riding around. Lots more traffic, and not as polite. Makes me hanker for Portland.

Well, we don't have to hanker for long. We decided to return to Portland without stopping anywhere else. The money's almost gone, and we're just itching to get back to a semblance of "real life". Plus we miss Portland! It's going to be a little tough, though. We do have a semi-permanent place to stay, the tougher part is going to be finding a job. If you have any leads please feel free to let me know.

We'll be leaving Chicago this Wednesday, October 5th. We'll be taking Amtrak's Empire Builder west to the Rose City. Special guests: Paul and Caroline. We'll be back on Friday.

Be ready for us.

*Guess what this title references to (hint: a song), win something. Contest over! See Tim's response below.

**If'n you don't know, Chi-towns mass transit in rail form. L is short for "eLevated" trains.

***A side rant: Chicago's bike map indicates covered bike parking at L stops, but does not indicate where elevators are located. If it did, I would have known that the stop BEFORE the one we got on had an elevator. That would have made our lives easier.

Chicago!

Hey! We'll be in Chicago tonight! We should be there through Tuesday or so. If you are in Ye Olde Windy City and would like to hang out, or know of cool things that are going on (that aren't prohibitively expensive to do)*, please get in touch! Leave a comment or contact me at urbanadventureleague@gmail.com

*I know that there is some sort of art and bikes thing going on tonight (Friday) but the $15 admission is too much for us.

Where We're At, and What's Next

Hello friends. Greetings from Iowa City! We have been in town for a couple days, being hosted by Cody and Steve from 30th Century Bicycle. We had a slideshow presentation on Thursday night that went rather well, thank you.

A lot has happened on the road over the last month, and I've been pretty bad at blogging about it. I think a lot of it is due to the length of time we've been on the road--four months next week. Three months is a pretty "average" time for a cross-country bike tour. And now we're over that time frame, and not even across the continent. Most of my energies have been drained by logistics, riding, and doing stuff in the places we've stayed. I haven't had much energy to document what has been happening. I apologize for that, and in the coming months I'm going to fill in the holes of this rambling narrative.

It's been almost a month since we left Winnipeg. Manitoba is definitely not a bike friendly place, and it was nice to cross back into the U.S. into Minnesota, a state more friendly to two wheeled exploration. Biking through Minnesota took awhile, as we entered through the extreme NW and exited via the SE. Along the way we saw the source of the mighty Mississippi at Lake Itasca, the home of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox in Bemidji, the mighty mighty Lake Superior at Duluth, awesome bike infrastructure in Minneapolis, and scenic bluff country on the Mississippi south of "The Cities". We spent a couple days in Wisconsin before we entered into the land of corn, Iowa, where we currently are.

Many cool people helped us out along this leg of the trip, whether supporting us with monetary donations, food, beer (we love beer!), a place to stay, or helping out with an event. Here's a short list of thank-yous:

• Cara (W.R.E.N.C.H.), Gill, and Mark (Bike to the Future) in Winnipeg
• Andy in Thief River Falls (all Minnesota from now until I say it ain't)
• Sara at the Mississippi Headwaters Hostel (HI) at Lake Itasca
• Thomas and Liz in Bemidji
• Karen, Bob, and Doug (MN Bike Commuter) in Duluth
• Mary in Harris
• John, Joe (Snak Shak), Jeremy (Werstnet), and Laura (GreaseRag) in Minneapolis
• Jerry in Red Wing
• Terry and David (River Rider) in Wabasha
• Zach and Andy in Winona
• Bree, Eric, Skot (Thistle Cycles), and the guy from the band in the bar who bought us beer in La Crosse (Wisconsin)
• Marty (Prairie Peddler) in Prairie du Chien
• Doug in Anamosa, Iowa

WHAT'S NEXT

We depart Iowa City for points east tomorrow (Sunday the 25th). It'll take us three days to get to Ottawa, Illinois where we will stay with our friends Brad and Kim for a couple days. Then onto the Big Windy, Chicago! We'll be in town for several days soaking up big city ambiance, staying with my friends Ellen and Paul.

And Chicago will mark the easternmost point on the trip.

Yes, the Cross-Continent Tour is essentially over. We may swing by Milwaukee and Madison if money and energy allow. But we will not reach the East Coast.

This is quite the bummer, indeed. When we planned this trip we had every intention of making it all the way across. And if we aimed for a more "conventional" routing across the country with a day off here and there, say using the Northern Tier or Trans-Am, we could have done this in three months. But I didn't want to do anything so direct, and I wanted to spend longer in each place. I thought we could pull it off somehow. But the middle of the country has taken longer than we expected, we've spent more time in each place, and summer is pretty much done.

Blame me for planning such an ambitious itinerary. I thought we could pull off Portland to Halifax in five months. And maybe if we sped up things along the way, we could still. We revised the endpoint several times over the last few months. First we were aiming for Montreal (with a possible train excursion to the Maritimes.) Then Boston. Then at least to D.C. where we could at least claim getting to the "East Coast", and then maybe take the train to other eastern cities. But by the time we got to Duluth, I figured out that we would reach Chicago around Sept. 30th. We didn't relish the idea of biking through the Midwest in October with possible freezes and iffy weather. We also didn't have the ambition to "push it" to get to D.C. somewhere around mid-October. We toyed with the idea of taking the train east, but we're broke. So Chicago it is.

I'm quite torn on this turn of events. On one hand, I really wanted to get to the East Coast. It would be cool to bike back to my hometown. There are a lot of cities we wanted to visit, and cool people to meet. We don't want to let down those of you in the east who hoped to meet us. But let's face it: Four months on the road is a long time. I am tired. Tired of biking every day. Tired of living out of two sets of panniers. Tired of camping (I still like camping but it loses its thrill after the 631st time you set up camp). Having extensive rest days have helped in some aspects, but do slow the momentum. Spending a month in the Canadian Prairies was more than we wanted. While there is still tons of cool stuff we can see on the road, the notion of having a stable place to live again is starting to win over. I really have a new respect for those who can be on the road for years on end.

This doesn't mean we won't be back, or not tour anymore. Just not tour for four months. We want to finish this trip in the next few years when time allows. Maybe one big Chicago-Halifax (or thereabouts) excursion over a couple months, or maybe smaller segments.

Thanks to everyone who has supported us on this crazy adventure. If you feel like supporting us for the last leg of this journey, please click on the "Donate" button on the right.

Quick Notes: Leaving Duluth, Minneapolis ahoy,the Touring Workshop in "The Cities", and what September looks like

Has it been over a week? Yes, it has.

So much to write about, never enough time. I will fill y'all in about our ride from Winnipeg to Duluth when I have time to write (Minneapolis, hopefully, unless Mr. Snak Shack keeps me too busy.)

Right now we are in Duluth, and leaving in an hour or so to head south to Minneapolis. It's approximately 150 miles, which we are divvying up into three manageable days. Much of it will be on bike paths! We spent a full day in Duluth, which was fine. Wish we had more time to explore the town and the surrounding area, but winter is coming to these northern reaches. (It has already gotten down to 40F/4C overnight, and we already had a Frost Advisory. Yeeps!)

While in Minneapolis, we will be having a Bike Touring Workshop, woot! It will be happening, ironically enough, on Sunday, September 11th. The workshop starts at 11:30am and food will be available! It will happen at the Freewheel Midtown Bike Center, 2834 10th Ave South (Mpls 55407) 612-238-4447

If you are into the Book of Face, you can check out the event listing here.

And here is a rough schedule of "what lies ahead":

Iowa City: arriving around Mon Sept 19

Ottawa, Illinois: arriving around Monday Sept 26

Chicago: arriving around Thurs Sept 29

I'll fill you in with details of "beyond that" soon.

And thanks Doug for the great dinner last night!

Quick Notes: Leaving Winnipeg, Re-entering the States, Three Months Down, Upcoming Workshops in Minneapolis and Iowa City, and more

Upon entering Manitoba.

Hello friends!

It's a sunny Winnipeg afternoon and April and I are gearing up to ride south. We spent four full days in Winnipeg, a little longer than what we expected, but we appreciated the rest. Winnipeg was fun for us, and Cara and Gill were great hosts. I'll detail our experience in another post. (I still need to do my Saskatoon post as well!)

Today, August 27, marks three months on the road. I can hardly believe it! Our departure on May 27 feels like another lifetime ago. We've been in Canada (prairie provinces, not counting our earlier Vancouver foray) for about a month and a half, half the trip to date. We didn't expect to be "Up North" so long. We'll be in Canada for one last night, tonight, as we'll camp at St. Malo Provincial Park. Then we cross the border back into U.S. at Minnesota. We expect to be in Duluth next weekend (Labor Day weekend) and then Minneapolis after the holiday weekend.


And some exciting news: I will be hosting a Bike Touring Workshop in Minneapolis! Through the help of Mr. Snak Shak we're setting up a workshop at a cool bike shop in the city. Details have not been ironed out yet, but it should happen in about two weeks from now, around September 10th, when we are in town. I'll also be either doing a workshop or a presentation about the tour when we hit Iowa City about a week after that. This will happen through 30th Century Bicycle. I'll let everyone know details when they get ironed out.

*****

I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has helped April and myself over the course of the trip, whether it be in the preparation stages, giving us a place to stay, a ride when we needed it, or who has contributed to our IndieGoGo site. And we'd like to remind you that our IndieGoGo site is still going. To be frank, we've exhausted a lot of savings in the three months on the road. We've been frugal, but a trip like this sucks away a lot of cash. We still have about two months left to go, and we'd like to keep on going as far as possible. While ending the trip early wouldn't be the end of the world, there is still so much more we'd like to see and do. If you enjoy reading about our exploits and would like to help us out, please consider contributing by clicking on this link. Any amount, large or small, is appreciated. As Matt at Cast Iron Cyclist says, if you’re not willing or able to contribute – don’t feel guilty and don’t feel obligated. Or if there is another way you'd like to help, like a place to stay, please let us know. Contact me at urbanadventureleague@gmail.com


*****
And good luck to everyone on the East Coast riding out Hurricane Irene over the weekend.

Triumphs and Tragedies: On the road from Saskatoon to Winnipeg, Part Two (The Manitoba section)

Gilbert, mascot of Gilbert Plains, Manitoba

Last time I left you it was Thursday August 18, Day 84. We had just obtained a new chain for April’s bike in Yorkton, Saskatchewan, the last town of note before crossing into Manitoba. The day promised to be a good one. Not only was the flat landscape going to continue, but we were getting off of busy Highway 16, the Yellowhead Route. While this meant we lost the enormous 8 foot paved shoulder we’ve had up to this point, getting only a 2 foot shoulder in consolation, but the traffic dropped dramatically. We just had to contend with local traffic for a change. And miniscule towns--we thought we saw some small ones so far, but Hwy 10 east of Yorkton takes the cake.

And about 40 miles later, there it was--Manitoba. A new province, and one that offered some change of scenery. As soon as we crossed, we dropped dramatically down a couple hundred feet to the Lake of the Prairies Valley. This was the biggest hill we’d been down for weeks. But of course we had to go back up the other side, a steep 8% grade. This was the fist time I’d used the granny gear (except for the steep hills along the river in Edmonton) since Icefields Parkway!

The change of scenery was welcome, but we still had trepidations about the new province. For Manitoba is cursed by bike tourers near and far for their gravel shoulders. I had heard about it for awhile. But what hit it home for me was when we were at Tim and Amanda’s in Saskatoon. We watched the documentary Rubber Side Down, about two guys who toured across Canada in 2008 to raise funds and awareness for Chron’s Disease. Upon entering Manitoba on the Trans-Canada Highway, they heard that two cycle tourists had just died on the Trans-Canada, hit from behind because they were riding in the lane to avoid the shoulder. It scared them so much that they stuck to the gravel side roads (and in this neck of the woods, EVERY side road is gravel) to avoid it. Hearing about the tragedy, April and I were scared as well. At least we were avoiding the Trans-Canada Highway, well, at least mowst of it.

Riding into Roblin, Hwy 5* did indeed have a gravel shoulder. But traffic was light so riding in the lane wasn’t a problem. It won’t be bad as long as it stays this way, I thought. In Roblin we stayed in one of the nicest, if not THE nicest,** municipal campgrounds of the tour. We set up tent on a small rise above a pond, with only one RV as a neighbor. The showers--and firewood--were free. And the camp office doubled as an ice cream palour! All this for $10!

We set out east again in the morning (Friday August 19). As the countryside was rolling, this was some of the most captivating scenery we had seen in a long time. The shoulder was still 6 or so feet of gravel (with small paved sections thrown in just to confuse us) but the traffic still light. The ride to the small town of Grandview, where we had a snack, was pleasant.

After Grandview the sweet turned to sour. The road flattened out again. The gravel shoulder remained. And now the traffic increased, so much so that I was looking in my helmet mirror more than I wanted. It was probably during one of those mirror checks that I accidentally traveled into the crap shoulder. I managed to find a line that was relatively clear for a bit, but I wanted to get back out onto the paved lane. Rather than be smart about it and stop, I tried to get out of the gravel without slowing. My front wheel caught a drift right at the edge of the pavement, I went down on the pavement--hard.

I quickly got up. I hurt, but nothing felt broken, nor was I bleeding. I managed to hit myself in the ribs as I landed on my hand there, which made me worry for a sec. The bike looked fine. Nothing was damaged, except my dignity. Especially since a couple cars saw me fall. After giving myself a break for a couple, I got back on. Now I was riding more cautiously than I had before. This whole gravel business shook me more than I wanted to admit. And we still had a while to go before we were out of Manitoba.

Thankfully our place to stay was an oasis in a endless landscape of flat fields. Our warmshowers host, Brian, lived in six wooded acres on the outskirts of the town of Dauphin on the Vermilion River. The house he lived in he had built himself. Not only that, but he had built a separate cabin that had a sauna! Unfortunately it wasn’t finished yet. We enjoyed his hospitality; he fed us well and entertained us with stories about his bike touring experiences. 

I awoke Saturday with a feeling of trepidation and excitement. The excitement was for Riding Mountain National Park, which we would soon be entering. Riding Mountain lies on the Manitoba Escarpment, a glacially created feature where the landscape rises 500-1000 feet above the flat prairie. The “mountain” was clearly visible in the past day of riding. But trepidation stemmed from the fall. I wasn’t looking forward to more gravel shoulders.

The couple miles getting out of Dauphin were a bit hairy, but the traffic decreased upon entering the park. Wheat fields gave way to forested slopes, and we spent several miles climbing to the top of the ridge. Some of the grades were 8%, but I hoped the “pay-off” would be worth it. Unfortunately there was no pay off. No grand vistas of the flat lands below, just trees on the sides of the road. There would be an occasional lake or swamp, breaks in the wall of trees. But mostly trees it was. At least we had a shallow but paved shoulder, and a break from farm land.

Our intention was to camp in the townsite of Wasagaming, on the south entrance of the park. There wasn’t a lot of traffic on the road, so we were hoping that the campground wouldn’t be crowded. As we closed in on the town, we realized what folly that was, especially on the second-to-last Saturday of August. In the town itself was a free concert, with people (and cars) spilling out everywhere. And then it got worse. We entered the sprawling Wasagaming campground (over 500 sites) to find that the cheapest site was $27.50 a night. Yipes! We decided to first check out the grounds, in the hopes we might find someone to share a campsite (and costs) with.*** 

We were glad we checked out things, because it would have been a night of hell if we stayed there. The campground was covered with DOUCHEBAGS. This is no minor exaggeration. Row after row of “bros” blasting music, drinking booze even though there was an alcohol ban in effect.**** People stared at us. One guy yelled at me because in his drunken state he thought my helmet light was a “webcam”.***** We were actually scared. 

We paused at a quiet corner and discussed our options. There would no way we’d get sleep, between the noise from the douchebags and the concert and worrying whether these drunk morons would fuck with us, or our bikes, in the night. There was no way we were staying here. But where to go? Consulting the Manitoba camping guide, it looked like there was a campground in the town three miles south of here. We decided to chance it, and got out of Dodge in the fading daylight.

We got into Onanole but couldn’t find a campground. But then I saw the business that would be our salvation: a used bookstore/coffee shop with art strewn everywhere. And it was still open! I had a good feeling about the place, and figured they might be able to offer some help. We walked in and asked the staff, explained our situation, and asked if they knew where the campground was. “Oh, that’s about five kilometers down a gravel road.” Sigh. “But you know, you can just camp in the grass behind the store.” Salvation!

The shop was so nice. They even made sure that we were properly fed before they had to close it down for the night. I’d like to say we even got a great night’s sleep, but the drunk 19 year olds hootin’ and hollerin’ at the bar down the street prevented that. (To their credit, the shop did warn us about that.) When we awoke on Sunday morning, after eating and getting ready, we tried to figure out What To Do Next.

We were really, really itching to get to Winnipeg as fast as possible. But it was still about three days away by bike. And every option sucked. Either we could head south and get onto Hwy. 16, which would be 2 lanes, gravel shoulders, and busy, or ride further south to Hwy. 1, which would be 4 lanes, gravel shoulders, and busier. There was also the option of riding even further south to Hwy. 2, which is supposedly quieter than the other two, but would add a lot more distance on things. I was in no mood to deal with gravel shoulders and busy highways anymore. I wanted out as fast as possible. So we decided that we would take the least busy routing to the town of Neepawa on Hwy 16, about 45 miles away, and hitch.

Now I know how I’ve expressed dislike for hitch-hiking as an easy way out on a bike tour. (And our previous experience outside of Yorkton still left a bitter taste in my mouth.) But at this point I was desperate for an easy way out. I was getting tired of the Prairies. I was genuinely concerned for our safety if we rode the busy highway into Winnipeg. And I just wanted to get this segment of the trip over as fast as possible. If it meant cheating a little bit, so be it. I was being pragmatic. I didn’t feel like it would do us any good to “suffer” the gravel shoulders and high traffic for two more days, just because I was being a purist.

Of course we still had some riding to do. The ten miles on Hwy 10 south from Onanole to Erickson were hell. No shoulder again, and lots of traffic leaving the park. All the douchebags of the previous night. Yes, we got honked at a few times.

Things improved somewhat after Erickson. We thought we might have found salvation in the form of a rail-trail that would lead all the way to Neepawa. But the elation was short-lived as we realized the trail wasn’t improved. They simply removed the tracks, ties, and ballast, leaving a primitive rutted surface. The couple miles we rode on it gave us some nice views and got us away from the traffic, but we were only doing 6-8 miles an hour over rough terrain. So we got onto one of the few paved secondary highways in this area. The traffic was low, the country was scenic and rolly, but the wind was at our faces most of the time. We had a good descent into the flat land of central Manitoba (the ancient bed of Lake Aggasiz) and more riding on flat Hwy 5 to get us to Neepawa around 6:30pm. After eating, we tried to hitch at the edge of town on Hwy 16. No luck. Dejected, we limped into the town campground (rating: meh) for the night.

Luckily it only took a half hour of waiting on Monday morning to get the perfect ride: A cool young woman driving a big truck all the way to Winipeg. Plenty of space for our shit, our bikes, and us. Brooke was a Brit via France who was working on a farm outside Dauphin. Not a local, which leads us to believe locals don’t pick up hitch-hikers in these parts. Brooke has been bumming around for a while, and told tales of hitching as well. She recounted how hard it was for her, a young white woman, to even get a ride in these parts in January, with snow piled high and -40 temps.****** She was going through some tough times and liked having someone to keep her company for the couple hour ride into Winnipeg. And it was good for us to not have to worry about awkward conversation in the truck.

She dropped us off in Winnipeg in the mid-afternoon. It’s April’s first time, but I have been here once before, eight years ago. The last visit wasn’t that good. Here’s hoping this one will be better.

*Saskatchewan Hwy 10 turns into Manitoba Hwy 5 at the border. Yeah, I know. Confusing.

**Of course there were some drawbacks, like half the sites were flooded, no real place to wash dishes, and the shower room could use a bench. But these are minor quibbles.

***This is something that I’ve heard some tourers do, along with the asking farmers to camp on their land.

****Apparently there are some weekends during the summer (mostly holiday weekends) that attract a lot of partying in certain national parks, hence the ban.

*****Actually many people think this, whether drunk or not. But try to explain this to a drunk person.

******C or F, what does it matter? It’s fucking cold out!

Triumphs and Tragedies: On the road from Saskatoon to Winnipeg, Part One (The Saskatchewan section)

Potash mine west of Lanigan, Saskatchewan

It’s approximately 500 miles (800 km) from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan to Winnipeg, Manitoba. This is the heart of the Canadian Prairies, so the land is primarily flat, with a few exceptions. And at this time of year, the wind primarily comes out of the west, which means a consistent tailwind for biking eastward. Since there wasn’t much between the two cities, the overriding goal was to get to Winnipeg as fast as possible.

So why was this segment of the trip, a section that lacked any of the mountain challenges of the first two months, the most challenging of this trip to date?

Besides the setbacks we faced on the road, the reason why I think it was due to our mental outlook. By mid-August I had hoped to be in northern Minnesota. We were a bit behind schedule, even though we don’t really have a “schedule", I was hoping to be further along by then. Now that the mountains were far behind us, the Prairies were an anti-climax. Besides hanging out with people in the bigger cities and places like Elk Island, there wasn’t much to stop for. We just wanted to “get through it" as fast as possible, which is never the right mindset to be in on a bike tour. 

And by this point, with flat land and a tailwind, we were hoping to just put in a bunch of 100 mile days. After pulling an 80 mile day followed by a 100 mile day getting into Edmonton, then an 85 mile day followed by a 92 mile day getting into Saskatoon, we realized this wasn’t going to be sustainable. We had to spend a day recovering, not a good thing to do if we were’nt having a rest day until Winnipeg. We realized we had to stick to 50-60 mile days, especially as the sun was setting earlier and earlier. Thankfully 60 mile days didn’t seem that tough anymore.

Anyways, I should just lay it out as it happened.

Sunday August 14th, 2011. Day 80 of the trip. Tim guided us through the suburban streets of Saskatoon to the very edge of town. We bid him adieu and hopped on Highway 16, the Yellowhead Route, eastward. The landscape quickly opened up into flat to rolling farmlands and occasional groves of aspen and birch. This would normally be a piece of cake, but we were faced with a stiff headwind, one of the few we’ve had through the Prairies. We barely hit 10 miles an hour even on the flats. As we departed from town late, the aim-to of Colonsay, a town about 40 miles away, didn’t look possible. At 8pm we pulled into a highway rest stop before the “town” of Elstow, just 30 miles out of town.

The rest area was an island of aspen and birch in a sea of farmland. It offered shelter from the wind. Could we camp here? We didn’t see anything indicating it was an official campground, but there was also no signs saying “No camping” or “No overnight use” like you would see in the States. The only other folks there were two motorcyclists. 

“Are you looking for a spot to camp?” they ask.

“Possibly.”

“There’s a real good spot right there.”

And there it was: a little hidden grassy spot in the trees. It even had a picnic bench!  Of course, there was the whole issue if it was kosher or not. April and I are not against stealth camping, but we rarely did it ourselves, preferring the facilities (but not necessarily the cost) of sanctioned campgrounds. But with the sun setting, there was no way we’d make it to the nearest official campground. If anyone showed up, we’d hope they’d be sympathetic or not.

The motorcyclists chatted with us for a little bit, even offering a bit of their whiskey to share. I don’t mind sharing a drink, but I was a bit leery of these guys drinking and then motorcycling back to the city.

Our biggest worry of the night, besides getting “caught” camping was thunderstorms. Listening to the weather band, we heard there was a Severe Thunderstorm Watch for areas to the east and south of us. We could see a lot of lightning in those directions, but it wasn’t moving towards us. After the storm we experienced at Elk Island, we were a bit stressed, especially since we were under trees that were some of the highest points around. Thankfully nothing happened. Nor did anyone come to kick us out of the camping spot, though I heard a car in the rest area around 3am.

Monday August 15, Day 81. It was a pretty uneventful day. The landscape was mostly open just like it was the day before and just like it will be for days to come. The main points of interest were the potash mines in the area. The tailings from the mines formed giant hills several hundred feet in elevation. They could be seen for miles. We had a bit of a headwind in the morning, but it shifted to a tailwind as the day progressed. We managed 65 miles without much effort. Our stay for the night was a Warmshowers couple in the teeny town of Jansen. We enjoyed their farming hospitality, as they fed us until our guts almost exploded. Pat and Howard lived in “town”, while Howard was a semi-retired farmer who still worked on the family farm. They grew the normal staple crops of the area-canola, wheat, lentils. Lentils? Yep, apparently some lentils can grow in this climate. Most of them are shipped overseas to Asia.

Tuesday August 16, Day 82. Still more mostly flat, with a little bit of rolling. And a stiff 20 m.p.h. tailwind. This was possibly the easiest, most effortless day of biking on the entire tour. We didn’t feel like we needed to pedal most of the time, the wind was that strong. The pattern for this part of Saskatchewan was a larger “town" of a couple thousand (where there would be a larger, but not great supermarket), with a few smaller towns of a couple hundred. The main point of interest other than a large lake (Quill Lake) was the small communities that were founded by Icelandic peoples during the beginning of the 20th century. The town of Elfros had a memorial. But that was it. The day went by amazingly fast. We covered 57 miles in just four hours (on the saddle), averaging 14 miles an hour. Our best average. We ended the day in the town of Foam Lake’s municipal campground. Many municipal campgrounds are pretty “meh”, but this one offered a secluded spot for us to camp. As the sun went down, I managed to spot a beaver in the brush gnawing away at a downed birch tree. Nature!

Wednesday August 17, Day 83. The day looked good. Sunny but not too hot, upper 70‘s F. 

A nice tailwind. And more flat, monotonous scenery all the way to Yorkton, about 60 miles to the east. No problem!

We were about 15 miles east of Foam Lake when April noticed a clicking, popping sound from the chain. I thought it might be derailleur issues, but when we inspected the chain, one link was clearly broken on one side. But not to worry! Remember the big deal about not carrying a chain tool from a previous post? We’ve got one now! So I handed April the tool.

“I don’t know how to use it.”

“But you were right there when Keith demonstrated it!”

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand chains.”

This frustrated me, mostly because this thrust me into a Traditional Gender Role. I would become The Boyfriend Fixing The Girlfriend’s Bicycle. Now April is good about fixing flats, and I don’t particularly mind doing things for her every once in awhile. But I hate being pushed into the role. This had already happened once, on Day One. When April’s stem was coming loose from her stem extension, it was assumed I would have the extra-long Allen wrench to fit down inside this Rube Goldbergesque contraption. Never mind that it wasn’t my bike, nor did I know how the stem plus extender “worked”, but I was supposed to have the tool.

I was also frustrated because I felt like all the talk about the chain tool over the last week jinxed me, but oh well.

So I got to work. Removing the bad link was easy. But the ease turned to frustration quickly. I tried to add a replacement link, but as I tried to tighten the one link, the other link next to it was coming loose. What the fuck was happening? I futzed around for several minutes, trying to get it right. But it kept on undoing itself.

I felt so incompetent. Despite the whole “Shawn is a moron for not bringing a chain tool on a cross-continental tour” nonsense, I have used a chain tool before, and have replaced a chain on one of my bikes once or twice. So theoretically it shouldn’t be a problem. But now, when it’s “do or die” time, I’m failing. Goddamit, I should be able to fix my girlfriend’s bike!

While trying to fix the chain, a driver going in the opposite direction stopped to see if he could offer assistance. While the gesture was nice, it broke my concentration. And the solution he offered: drive back to Foam Lake to either a farm or auto mechanic, because “they might have a chain” was not a feasible option. Not when I knew there was a bike shop in Yorkton. All this would do would lead to a couple hours wasted. No thanks. But what to do now?

The answer became obvious: hitch-hike. I didn’t want to futz with the uncooperative chain any longer. I know that it wasn’t so long ago that I had said that I was wary of getting rides on bike tours, but at this point I didn’t care. And I thought getting a ride shouldn’t be a problem, as I’ve never waited for more than 20 minutes any time I’ve needed to hitch on a bike tour in the past. This is farm country, right? Lots of trucks. Shouldn’t be a problem. It was almost two pm. We surmised it would take an hour of driving to get to Yorkton. If we could get picked up by 2:30, we could get to the bike shop around 3:30, out of the shop by 4, tops. Heck, we could go further east, get a jump on things, get closer to Winnipeg. No worries!

We waited almost 2 1/2 hours for a ride.

This wasn’t for the lack of traffic. Hwy. 16 is a busy road, and there were plenty of cars. Plenty of trucks, with beds wide open and space to fit us in the cab. After the umpteenth truck passed us without stopping, we started to curse every vehicle that went by. This. Shouldn’t. Be. That. Hard.

And even though there was plenty of trucks, the ride we finally got was in a car. Even though I had my doubts that we’d be able to fit everything inside (I was so frustrated at one point I almost had a tantrum and flung my bike to the side of the road), we managed to make it work. Our driver said that picking up hitch-hikers was illegal in Saskatchewan, which explained a lot. But couldn’t folks see the bikes, which would signify that we weren’t your “typical” hitchhikers? No, because many drivers would go out of their way to avoid us. They wouldn’t make eye contact and pass us in the opposite lane. Our ride almost didn’t see the bikes either.

By the time we got into Yorkton, it was just a little after 5, which I knew was when the bike shop closed. So much for pushing on. We got dropped off at the municipal campground at the edge of town, since we didn’t know what else to do. The camping set us back $20, and I don’t know if it was worth it. As I’ve said, municipal campgrounds are a crapshoot. This one did offer free showers,* but the setting left something to be desired. The tent spots were practically on top of each other with no privacy between them. And the spot was close enough to Hwy. 16 so that we heard the constant drone of traffic all night, occasionally interspersed with a freight train. And our drunk neighbors kept on singing the theme to “M.A.S.H” loudly.

After a meh night of sleeping, we packed up camp and walked bikes over to the bike shop, thankfully about a mile away. We were a bit worried about what we would find, as small town bike shops, much like municipal campgrounds, are a crapshoot. Would it be one of those situations where the mechanic is only there one day a week, and today ain’t the day? Or somehow they wouldn’t have the proper chain? Or we’d get a clueless kid who’s manning the shop for the day while their dad was away on errands?**and***and**** But luckily the shop (Bike Swim Run) was cool. The mechanic was there, and he was competent. April got a nice new Shimano chain installed in a few minutes. Now we were ready for more riding. And a new province to ride through.

*Much to April’s chagrin, the bathrooms were over-the-top with air fresheners. They put those Renuzit stick air freshners in EVERY SINGLE STALL IN THE BATHROOM.

**This was the case with the shop in Harrison, Idaho. I went in there in the hopes of getting a couple spare 5mm bolts for braze-ons. “I don’t think we have those. We just have basic bike stuff.” Like bicycle racks, which they stocked. So how does he mount them? 

***Or when we had to go to the camping/clothing/hunting/bike shop in Whitefish, Montana. April was having constant flats in the rear tire, so we hoped a tire liner would be helpful. “Tire liner? Do you mean rim tape?” Okay, let’s see if you have a thorn-resistant inner tube instead. “What’s that?” Ugh.

****This is the point where I see the appeal in the Keith “Raving Bike Fiend” Hallgren system of having an on the road tool kit/spare parts supply that can fix 99% of problems on the road. Or maybe like Coreen suggested we should just having a Raving Bike Fiend along with us.

Auroras, Bison, Cheating, Deluges, Episcopalians, and Flats: Adventures on the road to Saskatoon

As I detailed in my last post, we’ve had a tough time leaving Edmonton. We had a false start on Thursday August 4th. We had all intentions of leaving in the afternoon, but first we had to do “errands”. As the day grew shorter and the end of errands were not in sight, I whispered to April, “I don’t think we’re going to make it tonight.” And we didn’t. But we got the errands done. So Friday, Friday we’ll leave right?

Friday started to feel like Thursday, as time ticked away and we weren’t ready to depart. But I was determined. Sure, it would have been nice to chat more with Mr. Raving Bike Fiend. But we had to get to Saskatoon! In any case, we needed to leave, so Keith could get on a plane to marry Donna next week. And so I wouldn’t horrify him with more scenarios like this:

“Oh, I didn’t see a chain tool in your tool bag.”

“That’s ‘cause I didn’t bring one”, I say.

“You didn’t? But what happens if you break your chain?”

“I hope I don’t. And I haven’t yet.”

This is true: I have never had a chain fail on me.* 

“But what happens if you do?”

“I guess I’d stick out my thumb.”

The notion of this nearly sent Mr. Raving Bike Fiend into Anaphylactic shock. Keith is a Master Mechanic, and is known to carry with him at all times a tool kit that can fix 99% of things that can go wrong with a bike. He’s even carried a bottom bracket tool, which he used to fix  a random stranger’s bike. The only thing he couldn’t do is repair a broken frame, but I feel if they made a welding torch compact enough to fit in a seat bag, he’d bring it. To him, hitch-hiking wouldn’t even be an option. He’d rather fall on his sword than deal with the shame.**

Me? I’m a pragmatist. I’ll fix what I can and get help for the rest.

With that exchange, Keith quickly stuffed a chain tool with spare links into my tool bag and pushed us down the road. A push is what we needed, as it was almost 6pm. Our goal for the night was Elk Island National Park, about 25 miles or so east of Edmonton. Through experience I learned the best approach is plan a short day when leaving a multi-day rest stop in a city, so we didn’t have to hurry out of town. But the late departure was pushing it, as we had maybe three hours of daylight left.

And push it we did. After some stressful riding on Hwy. 16, we limped to the gate of Elk Island right at sunset. But the 25 miles was just the distance to the gate, as the camping was another 8 miles up the road. So nothing left to do but push on some more, dodging the bison that herded near the entrance. Yes, bison. Elk Island is an aspen parkland biome mainly used as an animal preserve, and while there are some namesake elk in the park, it is renowned for its free-ranging herds of bison. It’s one of the few places left for them to run “wild”, so to speak. Both of the species native to North America, the wood and plains bison, can be found in the park.

It was pitch black by the time we got to Sandy Beach Campground. We quickly set up camp and got ready for sleeping. But before we retired, April made a discovery: “Look up! It’s the aurora!” Indeed, the dark skies (protected in the park by a Dark Skies Initiative) showed the colorful streakings of the aurora borealis. Earlier in the trip I suspected at our current latitude of 53 degrees north we’d be able to see some, but April didn’t think so. Guess I’m right! We stared at the skies for a good half-hour or so. I think it’s the first time I had seen them.

But nature had more in store for us. I awoke around 3:30 to constantly roaring thunder. There was a Severe Thunderstorm Watch for the area when we’d left Edmonton, so I expected the chance of something. It did roar for about an hour, enough that I thought it might skip us, tracking to the north or something.  But it finally started to pour, for a good hour or so. The thunder got louder, and there were definitely lightning strikes nearby. But it started to die down after 5, so I fell back asleep.

But then I awoke again to more thunder around 7:30. I wondered if I should get up now, but decided to wait it out in the tent in case it started to pour again. And pour it did. Everything about this storm seemed worse than the first, rain, wind, lightning. Every time we thought it would let up, it got worse. I was praying that the tent would hold. And hoping there wouldn’t be big hail, a tornado, or a lighting strike on the tree that was directly above us. I powered up the Weather radio to find out. Nothing about tornados. Whew. And finally it started to die down, and then stop. It was safe enough to leave the tent around 9.

Getting “up” at 9 am was going to be a problem. The aim-to for the night was Vermilion, about 100 miles away. I had lined up a Warmshowers host there. This would be a tough goal for such a late start. As it was, we didn’t even leave the campground until around 11:30 am, and were delayed from leaving the main gate by another half-hour, as a gaggle of bison blocked the way out. Approaching bison on a bike is never a good idea, and the blockers were male, who were supposedly aggressive during mating season. Which is August. We had to wait it out a bit, and managed to pass by them when a phalanx of passing vehicles provided “protection” from them.

Thankfully conditions improved after leaving the park. The road mostly flat, the wind at our backs, the sky clear. Still, it would have been nice to have a chance to stop at the Ukranian Heritage Centre at the park’s exit if we had the time (and money). Even with the ample conditions meaning we were moving at a good clip, we were still behind. We had only gone about 45 miles by the time we arrived in Vegreville (home of the world’s largest Pysanka, or Ukranian Easter Egg) at it was after 4 pm. I realized that getting to Vermilion by dark was a lost cause, so I texted our host Keith in Vermilion (not to be confused with Keith in Edmonton) to let him know we wouldn’t make it tonight. “I can pick you up” was his response.

We thought about this for a moment. I don’t really like the idea of getting rides on a bike tour. We did it four times so far (not counting using transit to get into Seattle or Vancouver, BC). All these born out of necessity: outside Vancouver, Wash. due to April’s handlebar failure; into Spokane because April’s shoulders were killing her and we had over ten miles to go; on US 2 near Marias Pass due to road construction; and into Banff due to severe weather. I couldn’t consider being “behind schedule” to be a necessity. This veered too much into cheating territory, and once you let one cheat slide, you invite the possibility of future cheats. Next thing you know you’re hitch-hiking the whole way to Minneapolis. But then we considered our options: there really wasn’t much of anything between here and Vermilion except a couple small towns and a few camping options. We’d either have to pay for camping or find an appropriate stealth camping spot, which seemed a bit hard with the endless fields. Staying in Vermilion would be free, and it would be indoors. So we decided to ride a few more hours and then get picked up.

After a respectable 70 mile day, we made it to the town of Innisfree at 7:30pm and called Keith. He got there in about a half hour. Keith was an English gentleman and an Anglican priest who lived on an acreage north of town. Originally the plan was to put us up in the church, but instead we would stay in the small apartment behind a store he and his wife owned in town. On the brief ride to town we talked a little about bike touring. He talked a little about his rural house, completely off the grid. The storm that had hit us in the morn grew stronger as it moved east, and by the time it hit Vermilion it produced damaging hail that wiped out part of his garden. Looks like we had missed the worst. (When we reached Lloydminster the next night, the storm indeed spawn a tornado.)

We talked a little with Keith and his wife, and they left us to our own devices. It was nice to have our own space that wasn’t a tent, even if it was just for a night. Because of this, we ended up sleeping longer than we should have on Sunday. And by the time we did get going, the steely skies opened up. It rained fairly steadily for most of the day. And there wasn’t much to look at or stop for, as we were in full-on prairie territory. Pretty much all of the land was being used for agricultural purposes, whether growing canola or wheat or the occasional ranch. The topography was fairly flat with some rolling hills.

We intended to do a respectable amount of riding this day, as Saskatoon was still about 200 miles away and we wanted to get there as fast as possible. Plus, there was really nothing to stop for on the way. But the rain thwarted our plans, plus a flat that I got, the second actual puncture flat I’ve gotten on the trip. By the time we got into Lloydminster late in the afternoon, we were wet and demoralized, and the rain wasn’t going to let up. Taking a break at Tim Hortons,*** we weighed our options. We had only gone about 35 miles. Lloydminster had a campground in the city, and beyond that was more small towns and farms. We didn’t know what our options would be once we left town and were in Saskatchewan, as I didn’t have appropriate info for that province yet. So we opted to camp in Lloydminster. This would leave us with 170 miles to Saskatoon, which we hoped to do in the next two days.

Lloydminster is an...interesting town. Since it was the largest town since Edmonton, it had big box stores galore. And it holds the title of Canada’s “border” city, as it straddles the border between Alberta and Saskatchewan. Unlike other border towns that sit on one side of the line, Lloydminster is in BOTH provinces as one city. We paused at the monument that delineates the border. Our third province of the tour. This also meant we’d be crossing into Central time from Mountain, but to make it all the more confusing, Saskatchewan doesn’t celebrate Daylight Savings Time, so it was the same time as Mountain.****

The campground was pretty unexciting, basically a place where RVs can park. Methinks many of the people in the RVs are working on the oilfields. (Stealth camping looks more appealing by the day. Now if there was somewhere to stealth camp in this area...) The main perks to this campground was the spotty free wifi, and a covered picnic shelter. We set up the tent and then spent the rest of our time under the shelter.

The weather was perfect when we woke up Monday morning. Sunny, not too hot. As promised, the landscape flattened out in Saskatchewan. Nothing to do but ride, and ride we did. We paused quickly in small towns,promptly forgetting their names upon departure. We had a brief ten minute rainshower in the afternoon. And we made it to Battleford, 85 miles from Lloydminster, right at nightfall. After stopping for food, we quickly set up camp, showered, and crashed for the night.

Since it was so dark when we arrived, we didn’t realize that the campground was right on the edge of Fort Battleford National Historic Site. And we had the Parks Canada annual pass, it was “free” to get in, so what the hey? The fort was used in the later part of the 19th Century, and was built to “protect” the Anglo-Canadians from the natives. Many people took refuge there during a particular war that happened in the 1880's. Now it is a collection of buildings surrounded by a wood wall. There was barely anyone visiting, so we mostly talked to the historical re-enactors who seemed a tad bored. 

The rest of the day was ride, ride, ride. The landscape was still pretty flat, though there were two  hills getting out of the North Saskatchewan River valley. It was still hard though, as we didn’t have as much energy as we wanted and there was not a lot of visual stimulus. The mind was left to wander.

About 20 miles outside of Saskatoon, as the sun was going down, we met Tim, who would be our host for Saskatoon. This was the first time I had actually met Tim face-to-face, though we’ve “known” each other since the late ‘90‘s, as we traded mini-comics “back in the day”. He met us on his Yuba Mundo, which he uses to haul around his kids, Keira and Finnegan. Just like Keith in Edmonton, it was good having a local “pilot” us into town, as he got us off of busy Hwy. 16 just as it got totally dark. We navigated the streets of Saskatoon and finally reached Tim and Amanda’s house around 11pm, 92 miles later. Exhausted, we devoured pizza and pie, showered, and crashed. Five days and we made it!

*I never said I was the smartest bicycle tourist.

**The other exchange that hastened my departure was regarding routing out of the city. Keith suggested a route that primarily used a busy road sans bike lanes or any special bicycling provisions. He can be regarded as somewhat of a “vehicular cyclist”, not out of fealty to the belief system promoted by the late John Forrester, but out of practical necessity since Edmonton lacks bike lanes and all that business. After a week of riding on multi-laned boulevards, I was getting sick of it, so I enquired about using a route on a quieter neighborhood street a block off the busy one. He looked at me as if I were speaking Swahili.

***Stopping at Canadian donut-coffee chain Tim Hortons has become one of our guilty pleasures on this trip. I’m addicted to their “iced coffee”. I don’t know how much actual coffee is in it, but it’s more like sweet liquid crack.

****If you ever want to hear an earful, ask someone from an area that doesn’t observe Daylight Savings Time what they think about all that business.