It's been a while

Dear devoted readers and transient guests,

It's been a while since my last update, I apologise. I now have a lot to say, and many beautiful pictures to show you. I'm in Canmore, staying with warmshowers.org hosts, Alex and Megan Dunn, and their friend Brendan.

I'll start from where I left off, in Revelstoke. As soon as I left the city, I was climbing. I have no thermometer, so my guestimate of temperature is inaccurate, but I'd say it was about a squillion degrees centigrade. My task for that day was to ascend the Rogers Pass, a 1330m high gap between the mountains which would then wind at great speed onto the road into Golden. This was by far the most beautiful day of cycling I have encountered. I had had a glimpse of what was to come, but it had been spitting with rain, and the cloud was low, so I had little motivation to peer up at the mountains around. Not today, though. By the time I had left, the sun had burnt away the clouds to leave a perfectly clear blue sky and a white hot sun and the entire landscape had opened from the green walls of pine on both sides, to a grand, snowcapped mountainscape. Almost every bend in the road brought a new mountain for me to pull hard on the brakes and photograph.

Sadly the weather started to take a turn for the worse, and ended up grey and drizzly once again. This did have the benefit of making the intense and unrelenting climbing somewhat cooler, aided by the elevation gain.

Gradually, I slogged my way up to the top and over the pass to the monument signifying the highest point or, in my case, the end to a 4 hour sufferfest. Somewhere along the route, I passed the snowline, so the top of the pass, was dotted with grubby lumps of snow. Grubby lumps of snow in JUNE. About 2 minutes after stopping climbing in just a t shirt, I had wrapped up in fun foul weather gear for the descent.

I passed out of the Glacier National Park, which I had been in for most of the days' ride, and looked for a place to camp. At that point anywhere would have done. A grotty campsite under a bridge would have sufficed. As it turns out, I stumbled across the Heather Lodge. The sign said it was closed, and there was a heavy iron chain barring entry, so I was pretty confident it was empty. No one was around, so I set up my tent and sat on their balcony as the sun set over the mountains. Altogether a beautiful, if brutally difficult, day of riding.

Morning came, and I defrosted myself after a freezing night with sickly vanilla coffee and porridge, and set off for the totally uneventful ride into Golden. I thought it best to take a day off at this point, so after a considerable stop in Tim Hortons, I found a campsite and settled in.

Golden is nice, in a valley between two big mountain ranges, but small and unremarkable. I wandered into the centre and bought myself a huge plate of blueberry pancakes and coffee, then wandered for a bit and found a supermarket. It was a good rest day, just what I needed after the battering my legs received on Rogers Pass, but I'm afraid it won't ever make thrilling reading.

My next stop was in Lake Louise, right in the heart of Banff National Park. The mountains were getting seriously big by this point, and I felt very small slipping between them. I was halfway up the Kicking Horse Pass, reading tourist information boards about a railway, when another cyclist pulled up next to me. His name's Brad, and he said he was cycling to St. Johns, a very similar trip to mine and in roughly the same timeframe as me. We stuck together going up the pass, which I had expected to be much more of a significant climb than it was, and came to this sign.

I mentioned sticking together for a while, because we were both on exceptionally lonely trips and seemed of similar fitness levels, so hopefully one wouldn't get left behind.

We flew down the pass and onto the first bit of flat land for a very long time before ending up at Lake Louise. We parted for the night, he went into a hotel so he could dry his kit, and I headed to the campsite. In the middle of the national park, camping rough with food, is just inviting somewhat unwanted interest from the larger species of wildlife, so a campsite was a potentially costly but very much necessary move. This was highlighted to me when I found the area for tents. To get in you must pass over the biggest cattle (grizzly) grid, which was electrified and painted bright yellow, and the entire enclosure was wrapped with electric fencing, 8 wires, and 5 feet high. The kind of thing you might erect to halt an attacking military force, but for wildlife. Inside these barricades, every building and signpost had warnings against leaving out food or keeping a messy site, and they even specified which bear might be of particular nuisance to us campers. Apparently grizzly #74 had been spotted and had her two cubs in tail, and was a regular visitor to the area around the campsite. I was glad to have found this relative shelter, as I had considered just putting a tent up in a field or open area.

The next day Brad and I met up, and cycled up to the lake from where Lake Louise got it's name. It was a beast of a climb, 400m in 4km, but the scene that met us at the top was more than worth it. I won't even try and describe it, I'll just put a photo up. Shame about the tourists though.

Having descended from the lake, we then had a choice - either highway 1, or highway 1A. Both ended up in the same place, but 1A promised greater scenery. We were right, and highway 1A was unfailingly smooth riding. Trucks were banned from this road, so apart from the occaional RV and angry Texan, it was just us and hundreds of cyclists. We saw one tiny cloud that day, just a puff of white which promptly disappeared when we publicly vented our dismay at it. I saw my first black bear as well, a baby by the side of the road looking bemused but not at all phased by the cars stopping to have a look. We didn't hang around, as if there's a baby bear, there's a mummy bear not far off, and getting between the two is not a recommended activity. 77km in 4 hours, and one of the easiest rides I've ever done, we just flew along the perfectly smooth asphalt in the warm sun. Bliss.

We parted once again just before Banff. Brad had to be in Calgary that day, so he carried on while I went and found a campground for the night. I managed to share my site with two other Brits and saved myself $20 in the process.

Another freezing night at altitude (roughly 1400m) followed by a cloudless day under a white-hot sun. I spent the morning walking around Banff feeling like Bill Bryson, drinking coffee in coffee shops and perusing the gift shops. I was disappointed my Banff I'm afraid to say. I had expected a mountain town, so lots of active looking people doing active things, plenty of sport shops and a spattering of healthfod and coffee shops. I was wrong. What I found was the most touristy, tacky place I've visited so far. Every other shop was filled with gifts, covered in maple leaves, caricatures of grizzlies and moose, and selling 'native' crafts, all made in China. I left quickly, and packed my kit to make for Canmore.

I only had 25km to go for Canmore, a nice easy ride, even a rest, that I made in just under an hour. I'm now coming out of the Rockies, so it was downhill most of the way, but on the flats I was happily cruising at 40kmph. This is the upside of pulling a trailer; having slogged up every small hill for the last two weeks because of the extra weight and rolling resistance, I now get to experience the added momentum that it gives me. Once I'm up to speed, it takes very little energy to keep moving fast, so as long as the road is flat I can eat up a large number of kilometres with relative ease. Relative to the Rockies, the next 1,500km will feel effortless.

I'm into Calgary tomorrow, 110km of downhill and flat. I'm sad to be leaving the Rockies, they're a beautiful place (especially when you can experience them at 18kmph) but brutally difficult at times. Tomorrow I'll start my journey through the Great Plains, an expanse of...well very little, it's all wheatfields as far as you can see, and them some.

I passed 1,000km today, only 5,500km left to Halifax.

Ben

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