Day 12: July 10 Banff to Beiseker  115 miles (186 km)
Picture: Buffalo (Bison?) in the middle of nowhere

The day began at 12:40 a.m. when the 13 year old girls in the nearby tent woke me up with their talking and laughing.  It'd probably been going on for a while because a couple of minutes later Alan let them know that he'd had enough.  He shook their tent quite hard and let out a bear-like roar.  They screamed.  Then, in a calm but forceful tone, told them that we were biking across Canada, planned to get up early, and needed our sleep.  They quieted right down.  Personally, I think it was the roar.  The last thing I heard before falling asleep was a train whistle.  Ah, the sweet sound of Canada.

The route to Beiseker was going to be long, 113 miles (183 km).  Most of us were up and packed away by 5:30 a.m.  I hit the road solo around 6:30 a.m. and took off.  I was feeling great so I just let my legs go.  The route took us down out of the Rockies and into the prairies of Alberta.  The towns I passed through early in the day were small, several looked like single company towns.  I kept looking back at the mountains.  I'll miss them.

The wind was blowing out of the northeast all day.  The route was generally east with a few short jaunts north.  I rode an average of 19 mph (31 kph).  Aside: on speeds and distances, I'm starting to think in kph since that's what my odometer is set for.  It's also the common language of the group.  Breaking 30 kph was a milestone.  On the eastern legs I was averaging 25-28 mph (40-45 kph), but every time I turned north, I slowed to a crawl.

The rain began about 43 miles (70 km) into the ride and stayed until the 100 mile (160 km) mark.  It poured for about half of the time.  Riding solo I didn't have to worry about eating the road grit from another biker.  The trucks that passed more than made up for it, though.  On a wet road with narrow shoulders, trucks going in the same direction as me covered me with spray as they passed.  The ones going the other direction not only soaked me, but hit me with a wall of air.  I struggled to keep the biking going straight and not off the edge.  One trucker took pity on me.  He saw that he was going to pass me at the same time as an oncoming truck, so he slowed and allowed the other one to pass first, then swung out around me.  I still got two doses of wind and spray, but I stayed on the road.

I arrived in camp at 1:30, beating Brook (and all the bikers).  One of the town councilmen swung by just as I was planning to go find lunch (2 PB&Js and 2 bananas just isn't enough any more).  He said the best place in town for a burger and fries was  the Esso station.  That was a new one for me.  As I was locking up my bike outside the gas station/restaurant/bar, another town councilman introduced himself and warned me not to spoil my appetite -- the town council was planning to feed us that evening (also burgers).  I told him that I'd be hungry again in a few hours, not to worry.  I ate a big burger at the diner, then 3 more later.  (I was in town for less than 20 minutes and had already met 2 of the town councilmen.  Try that in a big town.)

Beiseker is a farming town, mostly cattle and grain.  Our campground is next to the grain silos, which is next to a train track.  At 10:00 p.m. the train went through, blowing it's whistle the entire way.
 

Day 13: July 11 Beiseker to Drumheller  49 miles (79 km)
Picture (left): Karl standing in front of Horseshoe Valley (a picturesque hole in the ground)

Another pleasant day.  I wasn't in a hurry to get going this morning.  The route was a short one and the sky was clear.  I wandered out with Jules and Alan.  They were tired from outrunning the storm yesterday and were planning to ride easy.  I teased them about how hard they'd ridden the last two days and Alan said "You can ride on ahead if you want.  We know how to restrain ourselves."

We rode through miles and miles of farmland.  The road was gently rolling and straight.  Scattered among the lush green fields were brilliant yellow canola fields.  I only know it by its color. Flax is blue/purple and I'm hoping to see some soon.

Horseshoe Valley, just past the turnoff for Rosebud (all I could think of in the morning was Citizen Kane -- it's the sled!), looks a little like the Grand Canyon and a little like the Badlands in the Dakotas.  A river (the Red Deer River?) eroded this channel and left a very picturesque ditch in the middle of the prairie.  You can see the different layers of rock and sediment, going down a few hundred feet.  It's all pretty soft.  You can see erosion is still occurring.  It had rained recently and the river was full of silt.

After a short stop we hopped back on our bikes for the final 15 miles (25 km) into camp.  Alan took off like a rocket.  He hit 28-31 mph (45-50 kph) and held it for a good 6 miles (10 km).  So much for restraint.

Coming into town we spotted a Dairy Queen.  My eyes lit up as did Jules' so we pulled in.  We sat outside on the curb and ate our gooey treats (peanut buster parfait for me) at 10:30 in the morning.  Afterwards we spent a little time in town, visiting the bike shop of course, and then headed into camp for a rest day.  This was laundry day.  I think we had every washer and dryer in the place busy for at least 3 hours.  I changed into my bathing suit so I could wash everything.  I can socialize again, my clothes are clean.

Tomorrow is a rest day, as was at least half of today.  The riding is getting to be easy. (I'm sure I'll regret those words later.)

A few notes on laundry:  I took roughly 4 days of biking clothes with me.  That means I had to find a laundry facility every fourth day at a minimum.  Non-biking clothes don't need to be washed as often since they didn't get smelly (as a group I think our tolerance for smells is going way up).  It's more common to get your clothes dirty while on cooking duty or while eating.  The truck carries laundry soap and Brook usually has a supply of quarters for us.  My sorting technique has simplified into clean vs. dirty. If it's dirty, it gets washed.  One big load. 

Day 14: July 12 Drumheller  (rest day)
Picture (right): Jules, Alan, and Craig are beginning to enjoy kitschy, touristy photo-ops in Drumheller, the dinosaur capital of Canada

I did almost nothing today.  I spent some time uploading pictures from my camera and organizing them.  What a chore.  I also worked on the web page, writing and adding pictures (that was the last batch you should have read by now).  In the afternoon Brook, Ron, Jon and I took a canoe trip down the river.  With the current we didn't really have to paddle much.  Brook tried to teach us a few paddle strokes.  She gave up when she saw that it was hopeless.  It was a good thing that we had a current.  A german shepherd followed us the entire way, about 7 miles (11 km).  He swam at least half the way, and walked along the bank for rest.  Every time we thought he was gone, he reappeared.  At one point we let him catch up to us.  He just swam a circle around the canoes then swam on.

The highlight of the day was the dinner in town.  It featured a 38 oz. beer and a waitress with big, blonde hair and purple fingernails.

onward >>  The Prairies, continued: Headwinds and tailwinds

backward >>  BC and into Alberta: Climbing through the Rockies 

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