Day 12. Sat May 5, 2001. 119 km. Total 824. Salmon Arm.
Goodbye, Gerda and Peter.

Came pretty close to staying another day in Kamloops after all. When I got up, there was a layer of snow on the ground, and the sky was overcast. But, I guess it was time. I spoke to my dad on the phone before leaving, and had a good breakfast as planned. Gerda and Peter, I really appreciate you taking me in and showing me such wonderful hospitality. Now I'm ready to press on.

It was an easy day, relatively. I took the Trans-Canada out to Chase, and then Salmon Arm. And while I could almost always see the rain moving along the valley, I only got hit a little. And while the guys at Java Cycles told me to expect headwinds to Chase, that too came only sporadically. The road was mostly level to Chase, and then I had to climb a ridge between North Shuswap and South Shuswap Lakes, but it wasn't too bad. And I also visited another of those childhood memories - a place just past Chase called the Silvery Beach Resort, a name I didn't even remember, it was so long ago. We visited here in 1982, a trip I remember because it was then that my Dad took us to see the movie The Secret of NIMH, which became an obsession with me, and is even now still one of my favorites. For some reason, the Disney movies never did anything for me, but NIMH sparked something. I'm not sure why.

Today I had my first really positive experience with The Knock. Actually, I tried three places with no luck until I changed tactics and asked some people standing in their yard if they knew anywhere I could pitch a tent. The man just shrugged and pointed to his own backyard. They were Eric, his wife Liz, and their neighbor Tracey. They even offered me a shower and breakfast in the morning. They also offered me a beer and a toke, both of which I refused. I don't smoke, drink or do drugs - some people say that the body is a temple, but in my case, I like to think that the temple is the mind.

After setting up, I went into town and saw The Mummy Returns, and had a good time. It's got the same appeal as the first, so if you liked that one, you'll like the sequel. Not exactly the most sophisticated film - I can't wait for the sequel to The Matrix!

Did I say there were no other cross-country cyclists around? Well, today I met a group of four of them. And a guy rollerblading across Canada too.

I was on the road a bit late because Erik and Liz had breakfast around 9:30, a Sunday tradition (they keep different hours during the week). I browsed the Net a bit, and Erik showed me his HUGE stamp collection, pointing out with pride the stamps with errors of some kind. I collect stamps too, so it was very interesting. I stopped at 7-11 (finally found one!) for supplies, and also to call home, and right outside the door was this guy dressed in Spandex with the hugest calves and thighs I've seen in real life. As Douglas Adams put it, he was not just well built, but expertly built. He was the one rollerblading across Canada to raise awareness of drunk driving, and he tried to hit me up for a donation until he learned I was going across too. Then just on the way out of town, I was passed by four well-equipped looking cyclists. I caught up with them about 10 km out of town when they stopped for a rest, and we compared cycling notes. Chris, Rob, John and Joel all look a lot more like the stereotypical cycle-tourist than I do, and they certainly travelled faster. I said that I wouldn't mind meeting other cyclists; I should clarify that statement. It is nice to meet them, and exchange stories, and perhaps share a camp, but the actual travelling I'd rather do alone. I don't want to have to struggle to keep up with someone else's pace - and I'm sure they wouldn't want to wait for me either. They were planning to make the trip in about 50 days. That's a little too hardcore for my taste! I waited until they started up again before doing the same...no point in having them passing me again. They plan to be in Albert Canyon tonight. I'm planning to stop in Revelstoke.

Still, one of the toughest things about life on the road is the sheer boredom of cranking the pedals all day.

Erik told me that after a climb to Sicamous, the road was flat as a pancake to Revelstoke. I had my doubts, but kept them to myself. After all, I wouldn't mind being wrong, not one bit! Well, I wasn't wrong, and it wasn't flat as a pancake, although it started out that way. After Creighallachee it was actually pretty hilly. Nothing extreme, but I didn't seem to have a lot of juice today. Maybe it was the headwind, which persisted, though not as bad as before. Or maybe it's psychological: I'm now well and truly past my "stomping grounds." I've never been past Salmon Arm, at least not by road, and I'm starting to get a bit worried. I know the next few days will be some of the hardest, and I feel like I'm already pushing my limits now. Plus, the Rockies are like a sort of Rubicon. As long as I'm on this side of them, I feel like I'm not really committed - I can always give up this whole idea, turn around and go home. Once on the other side, I'll really be on tour.

I honestly don't know what kept me going today...those last 20 km felt like a hundred. That, despite me taking a long rest at the Last Spike exhibit at Creighallachee, and another at Crazy Creek. The exhibit was pretty interesting; they had an actual caboose that you could go inside. The conductors would live in them, and have them outfitted almost like a little log cabin, and you could climb up into their little crow's nest where they could keep an eye on the train ahead. I also picked up a pamphlet for a Revelstoke hostel, and decided I would stay there tonight.

The rest of the road wasn't too bad. Real mountains are finally starting to show up! With snow and everything! When I got to Revelstoke, I checked in at the hostel, and had a nice evening. The place was beautiful, and not very crowded yet. Just a guy from Wales, and a guy from Australia (kind of interesting listening to them talk to each other) and an older lady who shared her pasta with us. None of them were cyclists; they were mostly here to hike, and travelled by hitchhiking. Free internet too, but I didn't do any work.

Tomorrow? I don't even want to guess. My knees are killing me. I may only go as far as Albert Canyon.

This might have been a more enjoyable day if it had been as sunny as yesterday, because I'm really seeing mountains now. I passed through Revelstoke National Park, and most of Glacier, and it was a monochromatic world with the snowy peaks blending into the overcast sky. Kind of a bleak feeling.

I got started around 11, and I coddled myself a bit, taking it easy on the climbs. Basically, if it went up, I walked. I was tempted to coddle myself even more and stay in Revelstoke another day, but I thought that I'd better get a wiggle on. Surprisingly, my knees barely made a peep, and I got a bit of a second wind as I went into Glacier Park, so I started pedalling up the Pass. It wasn't even too steep at first, and I was able to keep up a continuous pace for a while, but as the day started to stretch to a close my second wind ran out and I didn't have much left. I pushed up the last three kilometers. When I got to the marker at the top, I took a picture, and then the rain that had been holding off all day finally started. I really hated to do it, but I had to spring for a room at the Best Western at the top, which was ridiculously expensive. Twice the price as the place in Clinton, for a room that was basically the same. And while they offered a pool and a hottub, you had to go outside to get to both and there were no change rooms. No thanks!

Trevor was right about the climb to Rogers not being as bad as other climbs, but those last three kilometers seemed to go on forever..especially since I didn't know that they were the last. I knew I had to be close, but had no idea when that summit would finally appear. That uncertainty eats at you, especially when the day is coming to an end, it's getting colder, there's snow all around, and you just know rain is waiting to start. And for the record, if you cycle this way, be careful of your maps. They show a lot of towns that as far as I can see, just don't exist. My map showed a town called Glacier, but I didn't see a trace of it (and when you're cycling, every road-sign is an event, so you don't miss any of them). It's about 80 km now to Golden, and apparently it's mostly downhill. I'm looking forward to it.

The only good thing about staying at this motel is that I met a girl named Kim who works there and we had a nice chat. Oh, and I had one of the best taco salads I've ever eaten.

I'm a bit concerned about my rear wheel. The rim is still perfectly straight, but the tire itself seems to be bulging upward in places, producing a wobble. It's like the tube is over-inflated and pushing it out of place, but letting a little air out had no effect. I think it'll be ok until Calgary.

Man, I can't wait to get there. I'm a lot more sensitive to these long stretches of wilderness, when it really might be miles before you can fill a bottle, and you'd better plan to be in a town by the end of the day. I can't wait to get somewhere a bit more domesticated. For that matter, I can't wait to get to July!

This may be the strangest place I'll sleep for the whole trip. I am inside a tiny little Catholic church in the tiny little town of Field. I wandered all over looking for an opportunity to camp, or a promising looking yard, but it just didn't seem to happen. It was raining again, and the church was unlocked, so I decided to take a chance. You know what they say - it's better to ask forgiveness...

I dragged my heels moving out this morning. There were several little things to do, like say goodbye to Kim, and get the number of a friend of hers in Calgary she told me about who might be willing to let me stay with him. Then I browsed the information center, which had lots of cool 3D models of the Pass.

Trevor's report of the road ahead was accurate; a killer descent to start, then a tough climb out of Glacier Park. One thing I noticed on the descent - by the side of the road every few kms were these concrete spool-like things about 6 feet high, with a metal pipe sticking straight up from the top. I saw several of them yesterday too, without knowing what they were. Well, the motel TV had a channel devoted to short films about the Pass, and I found out that they're for anchoring the cannons they use in winter to start avalanches. I should have guessed; all through the park I passed signs warning of avalanche areas. I also passed through several showsheds, one of which was pretty scary because it was long with no lighting at all.

When the big climb out of the park started, I had gotten mostly up one big hill when I passed a road crew. "Wait'll you see the next one!" they shouted. "Oh great," I said. 'Oh shit,' I thought. Well, I got to the top finally, and then had another sweet 4 km descent, then it was fairly level, which by now I really mean 'going up and down, but not too steeply.'

About 40 km out, 3 guys by the side of the road flagged me down. They were with a highway crew doing construction ahead, and they asked me to give a message to a flagperson named Sylvie that "Riley and Gord were stuck at Courts (sp?)." I found Sylvie about 6 km ahead and relayed the message, but they had already been picked up by that time.

The wind was fickle. It was against me again most of the way to Golden. I noticed that it was actually easier powering up some of the hills than going down, and the only explanation I could think of was that as I climbed, the hill itself blocked the wind, but as I crested the top it was in my face again. You could really tell that you were between two mountain ranges along this stretch. Both of them stretched away in front of me, to my left and right, as I headed down the corridor.

I stopped briefly in Golden, and I must have been crazy to continue on to Field. Maybe I should have stayed at the Golden hostel, but I think that that's already becoming a bad habit. The road after Golden immediately becomes brutal, and just as an aside, I'd like to thank Chris, Dina, Travis and Jessica for a little assistance when I really needed it. (They'll know why). Apparently 'Yoho' comes from a Cree word meaning 'Damn, my legs are tired!'

In Field, the first thing I did was check out a place Trevor talked about; a restaurant called Truffle Pigs. It wasn't what I expected. It was more like a general store/gift shop that had a grill in the back. Trevor, if you're reading this, they had your picture up and still remembered you. Michelle is gone, and my meal was instead made and served by Everett and Marla, but Sean and Jen still own the place. Oh, and they don't serve pasta anymore, but I had an awesome burger on a bagel.

I called my sister Lisa, and told her about some of the stuff that's been happening, including the church.

I have actually been in pretty low spirits lately. I am honestly thinking of ending this trip in Calgary. While I hate the thought of failure, I would at least be able to say I crossed the Rockies on a bike, which is certainly something to be proud of, and I can even say that I topped Trevor in a few ways that matter to me. For instance, assuming I cross into Alberta tomorrow (and I'm almost sure to), I will have taken only one day longer than he did, despite a four day break. And I've gone the entire way so far without a single breakdown. -knock wood-

The fact is though that as I look through some of my reasons for this trip, they don't seem as compelling anymore. Rivalry with a guy I don't even really know seems pretty childish. Getting in shape is great, but I'd probably just lose it again in a few years. Testing myself might be all well and good; I might force myself to slog it out all the way to the other side, but what really would be the point? I know that this is just rationalization for quitting, but the bottom line is that the most important goal of all for this trip was to have fun, and I'm just not having a great deal of it. I'm finding it harder and harder to imagine myself going all the way, and when you can't imagine something, you know it isn't likely to happen. Also, I'm spending money faster than I'd like.

Oh well, who knows? I'll probably get to Calgary and think "Well, I've come this far, might as well to on to Winnipeg and make the decision then." And in Winnipeg, I'll think "Might as well go on to Toronto." And perhaps in this way make it all the way across.

And did I mention I crossed my first time zone? Why they put it at Roger's Pass and not the border, I can't imagine.

Part 2

Alberta