Camp Disappointment - Calgary

Jon:
Well with only a steel wire to hold my rack in place, we set off again making a beeline for the nearest town large enough to have a bike shop. Lethbridge was a two day ride away straight North on the otherside of the Canadian border. We repacked to take as much weight off my rack as possible, putting a lot of gear in Wei's panniers and carrying some on my back.
It was midday by the time we were on the road and the sun was baking straight down on us. The only shade in 100 km was a grain silo and the border crossing terminal.







We were in an every changing state of conundrum; We were riding through stunning landscape but a broken luggage rack, fantastically quiet roads but could see the mountains disappearing, super smooth tarmac for 10 miles but bone shaking gravel road the next 10 miles, the wind on our backs but the sun beat down on us relentlessly.

After we crossed the border we crossed the top of the ridge we'd been climbing for the last few hours and we started to drop quickly with the help of a strong tailwind. In this area you can see a long long way. Shrubs and trees appear on the horizon and stay there, teasing you into thinking you're almost there and withdrawing again as you look down at the road running wildly away into sky. As we reached the bottom of the valley Wei's bike protested under the added weight and he came to a stop with a broken spoke on his rear wheel. Still an hours' ride away from camp we couldn't fix it with the tools we had. We transfer some weight back to my bike and make-do. On the larger descents we hit record high speeds and despite deep fatigue and broken machines the spirit soars.

Pulling into McGrath we're welcomed by a church group picnicing at the town campsite and given all the burgers and water we could consume... which was just as well as there was no running water and it had been a long day to say the least.

As the Christians set off for home the clouds draw in and we escape a short sharp storm in the tent, asleep by 9pm as the sun re-appears still high in the sky.





The next day we make it into Lethbridge and just about collapse into delicious steak dinners provided by friends of friends. Josh, Anisha & the kids continue to provide glorious respite from the road producing ice-cream, guitars, and beds! Sitting on a couch is surely a splendid use of one's time.





The rest of the ride into Calgary was relatively uneventful, just long flat rides. We watch as storms race across the prairies from the west and time our cafe-breaks to coincide with the short heavy showers. We watch dark skies pick their way across horizons hiding distant mountains. Each town appears an hour before we reach it.
Horrendous wind between Champion and Vulcan force an early stop after only 20km covered but a change in wind allows us to ride the full 140km into Calgary the next. Good points and bad points... pesky Coyote.

Cheating!

...And the story of how we arrived at Camp Disappointment...




Wei:
The short-term and immediate problem solving demanded of living on the road is what makes it exciting. Although we just as eagerly look forward to relaxing at friends' homes; where the daily search for camping and water suddenly evaporate.

Arriving at the Milwaukee Amtrak station to find that our train had been cancelled due to flooding, threw us straight back into the thick of things! But the Gods were kind enough and with unexpected calm, we managed to bus, train, and taxi our way through the flooded countryside with our boxed bikes in tow (even surviving our first McDonalds meal, 'forced' upon us for lack of other sustenance, which disagreed considerably with my stomach for the rest of the Greyhound ride...).

Not wanting to face the isolation of Northern Ontario with possible worsening knee injury and with time running out, a train ride across the prairies didn't seem like a bad idea. Weeks of cycling across seemingly endless flatlands would have to wait for another trip, but it did mean that we would have more time in the lovely BC mountains.

Twenty hours reclining in our giant seats, reading 'Runner's World' from cover to cover, spotting deer from the observation deck, making chess-playing-friends, dining communally, finding our 'train legs', draining our ipod batteries, listening to the 'oh-so camp' chimes of Monty from the lower deck bar and we were finally deposited out at Shelby, Montana, bicycles still with us, and the mosquitoes were already biting.







Montana was a beautiful change in landscape, low strangely lush green rollers, huge skyscapes and snow peaked mountains gradually growing larger on the horizon with every mile. Meeting five other cycle tourists heading East raised our spirits even more and we managed to encourage our train weary legs to Camp Disappointment, where we feasted on a potent Thai tuna, rice dinner whilst the locals shot beaver...

Camp Disappointment

Jon:
We'd been cycling ever closer to the mountains for days. What started as small barely noticeable disruptions on the ever-widening horizon grew clearly distinguishable. Individual peaks loomed large and the separation of snow and rock could be seen. We were ready. We went through our daily checks as we packed up the tent that morning and had one last glance at the map to see which route we'd take to Glacier Park. We set off and cycled across the rough gravel road entrance to the campsite and out onto the highway. I changed up gear and felt my back wheel suddenly seize up. I stopped to check if the chain had jammed in the rear mech. No. I checked to see if my brake-pads were rubbing. No. So I dismounted and called Wei over. He checked the same things and then we saw it. The rack carrying all my belongings had snapped clean in two and jammed itself into my rear wheel. Not good. Mountains would have to wait.

Milwaukee & the big 25

One of the immediate benefits of our southerly decision was going to see Alisa, mine and Wei's friend from Vancouver back in the heady days of 2004. It was simply a delight to buy food, make food and eat food with her once again. As she learned to used a sewing machine, and prepare for her own Norwegian summer adventures. Alisa, we salute you!







..and how does a young fellow celebrate his twenty-fifth year you may ask;





That's Youngs Chocolate Stout ya'know!

Due South

Well... plan B then.
We had our doubts about the Trans-Canada highway north of Lake Superior before we reached it; with my knee giving me problems, the unescapable black fly, the bears, the moose, the lack of towns, facilities and food-options but what made it an obvious choice was the traffic.
Choosing to follow the Trans-Canada would mean a commitment to 1600 km and 3-4 weeks of solid riding on it before any chance to turn off. And the traffic sucks. Huge trucks and articulated lorries and 'Oversize Loads' roar past at 90kph with little or no hard shoulder for cyclists.
We've been told in equal measure how beautiful Northern Ontario is and how brutal the black-fly are, how stunning the scenery is and how bad and hard the roads are. But as we rode it the few days into Sault Ste. Marie we just didn't enjoy riding on it. So maybe next time Northern Ontario... tell 'em we went that way... headed south!