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Long time no write.
I don't know what it is, but I guess that feeling like I am not really in too foreign a place doesn't beg me to write it all down. But that isn't to say a lot hasn't happened since I last did an entry, it just means that nothing too alien has happened. Unless you count the rockies.
Driving into Banff from Kelowna was extraordinary (if a little chilly). I was finally on my own, since my housemate Bryce went back to Vancouver as I pressed on. When I left it was hot - a good twenty five degrees - and as I climbed into the postcard peaks I was often surrounded by snow. Something that you ho-hum in a car but you chatter and shiver on a motorcycle. Along the way to Banff - a seven hour drive - another Honda Shadow 1100 started tailing me and, when stopping at a much needed gas stop, was open to meeting me and soon we were cruising together in formation through the dusk-coloured rockies.
I got to a hostel in Banff only an hour or so from sundown and was glad to help myself
to a stiff drink and a mini-pizza from the bar downstairs. Within about fifteen minutes I had made plans with a girl called Courtney to go to the hotsprings the next day - I was off to a good start!
Without going into too many details, most of my time spent in Banff (somewhere around 9 days) was with a great group of Germans - Mark, Christina, and Jan (pronounced "yan") - who made a habit of getting up early and hiking the many trails around Banff. We had a fantastic time together and were joined at the hips for almost the entire time in the park. But, all good things must come to an end, and after a painful goodbye (I loved this hostel!) I was back on the road with a buddy on a Ducatti bike on my way to Calgary.
Let's just forget about Calgary. I have been trying to since I left.
I scooted on down to Waterton Lakes National Park and setup my tent at the local campground. I was there only one night but enjoyed crusing around the various glaciated peaks around the park. After such an incredibly social time at
the last hostel I was glad to be on my own, although I did give a certain blonde a nice ride on Le Doigt. I may not be a chick magnet, but I am pretty sure that there is one in the muffler or something of that bike...
Yesterday I crossed the border and spent the whole day driving through Montana until the rain set in. Northern Montana really is the wild west: rotting cars litter the roadside like a not-so-rare weed; I didn't see a cop the entire day; people don't need to wear helmets while motorcycling; there are as many gun shops as laundromats; and twice I have been pegged as Canadian from my accent. Finally I am a foreigner again! Woohoo! The terrain was incredibly flat, making for the longest dotted-lines I have ever seen (which were used more against me than by me - no cops, remember!?). Once it started raining I found a cheap motel with WiFi and spent a night in bed resting up. Today I am tying up loose ends with work and then I am off to do as much eastward travel as I can.
Ciao for now
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