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Published: September 7th 2010
The Canadian highways
which at times felt like I had them all to myself.Hello again. I know, I've been shocking at updating this & I'm a month behind too but I'm going to try & catch up a little now... Hope you're all good!
So from my last entry in Big Fork Montana I headed north through Glacier National Park that incidentally is predicted to have no Glaciers left within 30 years & rode along the 'Going-to-the-Sun' road getting utterly soaked in the process after losing yet another game of 'waterproofs roulette' with Mother Nature.
It's not as simple as it sounds, everytime I think I'm going to get rained on I have to find somewhere to pull over taking into consideration traffic, bears & other hazards, dig out my waterproof jumpsuit, get my boots off, get into the waterproof jumpsuit whilst already wearing protective motorcycle gear, wipe the sweat from my eyes, take a breath, get back into my boots & then try to actually get back on the bike in three layers of clothing. Invariably after all that effort the clouds clear & the sun shines down. I then refuse to take it all off, knowing the moment I do - it'll piss down. Told you, it's not simple.
Just prior to arriving at the American/Canadian border I stopped to take a couple of pictures & dig out my passport & eat the last of my chocolate stash. When I climbed back on the bike I forgot about my gloves resting on the seat & rode off towards Canadian immigration. After answering the one question asked 'any guns or drugs?' I'm stamped into Canada & then realise I’m a glove short. The missing glove I can see on the roadway behind me, the only problem being it’s on the American side of the border.
I did think about leaving it behind but it holds a certain sentimental value as it still bears the scars from the time my brother crashed my Ducati. Plus it’s already been returned to me once, the same was lost whilst I was riding along one day & was returned to me in a bar that night so I decided to go back through American immigration & pick it up. This I knew would be a pain, but needs must.
After queuing for a quarter of an hour I explain to the border guard I understand I have to go through all the
necessary procedures but I literally only want my glove which is in plain sight less than 50 feet from where he is sitting. This by the way is at a border point in the arse end of nowhere so its not busy by any means. He takes my passport, flicks through the stamps suspiciously, looks me up & down & tells me I need to go into the office & see a 'specialist'. Bastard!
I did think about suggesting he draws his gun whilst I slowly walked toward the glove. If I made a run for it into the American wilderness (in biker gear) he has my permission to shoot me down like the lying dog I am. If however, I just pick up the glove, then I'm free to return to Canada. Assessing his mood, I thought better of it, smile & do as I'm told.
When I walk into the office they're clearly upset I've had the cheek to interrupt their conversation & ask what I want. I tell them about the glove which is now a mere 35 feet away & that the fat lad in the booth sent me round & kept my passport.
Whoops.
Just had to find the rest of it. I'm told to take a seat & they carry on their conversation. After 20 minutes & despite being the only one there I'm called to a booth to answer some questions. When he asks how long I want in the United States I answered about 35 feet, he didn't find it amusing.
About 30 minutes later he hands me my passport back, I walk out, pick up the glove, get back on the bike & head back to Canadian border patrol. Their guard asks me if I have anything on me I didn't have when I came through an hour ago .When I say 'one glove' he laughs & sends me on my way. I think he has the same opinion of his counterparts as me.
Goodbye American, hello Canada!!!
Once across the border the mountains stopped & I'm faced with mile after mile of flat farmland on my way towards Calgary. I would normally gun it but my conversations with Terry are still fresh in my mind & out of respect to him I keep to the speed limit plus 25%. Trust me, on those roads you can double it & more.
After too much
Saburo
Saburo - just started out on a 3 year biking adventure. time spent meandering around America I get it into my head that I'll pile on the miles up through the Rocky Mountains towards Alaska & to that end I manage 428 miles in a single day. Now most adventure riders can easily put on a 1000 miles in a single day. However, they ride in all conditions for 12-14 hours & only stop for fuel. I stop frequently for no reason, pictures, chocolate, in a panic I've gone in the wrong direction & very regularly for fuel. So 428 miles made me happy.
There was one slight hiccup when after a picture stop I forgot to secure my waterproof hold-all to the bike & only noticed I was towing it as a trailer when the bike started weaving at 70mph. All I had to do after taking the photo on the right was find the rest of the bag which contained my tent, sleeping bag & trainers.
After a little help from a friendly Park Ranger who to his credit didn't smirk or laugh once, I found it. Considering I'd been dragging it along the highway the only damage to the stuff inside was one trainer the sole
British Columbia
It claims to be the best place on earth & I was starting to see why. of which was burnt (& still smoking). My tent only had a tiny hole & my sleeping bag/poncho thingy was much the same. Bonus! The bag was destroyed sadly, after so many miles together round the world it met its end in the Canadian Rockies. You'll note from the pictures the bag on the back of my bike has gone from red to green. Lets see how long this one lasts...
After the 428 miles all of which were in the right direction I pitched my tent & was joined by a Japanese biker a couple of hours later. Saburo has just started a three year round the world biking odessy & when I asked where he was heading he told me about a Horizons Unlimited biker meet about 600 miles back the way I came.
Horizons Unlimited is the oracle when it comes to motorcycle travel. There isn't a border that hasn't been crossed, a form that hasn't been filled or information about biking anywhere on earth that isn't on that site. I'd missed the UK meeting over the summer so the opportunity to attend the Canadian one was too good to turn down & so the
In rain gear...
& yes I know it's not raining but I've explained all that. 428 miles I was oh so very proud of & the waterproof holdall I'd destroyed in the process was all in vain. The following day I turned round & joined Saburo riding back the way I came. Best intentions & all that.
Saburo deserves some credit for even talking to me as when we met I was sporting an enormous handle bar moustache. I'd cut down a beard & thought why not. When I was on the bike I thought (emphasis on 'I thought') I looked like all of those mean bikers I'd met in Sturgis. I soon discovered however, when I was off it I looked like a SCREAMING QUEEN so the tasche' didn't last long.
Anyway I digressed. It took us a couple of days to get to the meeting including one free camp amongst the trees hidden away at the side of the road. When I asked Saburo if we were in bear country he reckoned not & I was happy. Ignorance is bliss. A Japanese man has assured me there are no bears in this part of Canada, what more do I need?
After pitching my tent I walked over to a roadside
Lake Louise
The Southern end of the Canadian Rockies bin to get rid of that days chocolate wrappers & the bin had an enormous claw mark scratched across the lid. If there weren't any bears, the squirrels were clearly out of control. I called Saburo over & we both examined the scrape & agreed - no bears my arse!
Saburo said not to worry as he had pepper spray & so we'd be fine. When he eventually managed to dig it out of his panniers it honestly only took him 10 minutes to get the lid off with the assitance of not one but two penknives. I don't know much about bears but I do know they are not renowned for their patience. Needless to say I didn't sleep well that night.
The following day we arrived at the biker meet in the gorgeous little town of Nakusp & spent the next 3 days meeting other bikers, listening to travellers tales, attending bear awareness talks (seriously!) & generally enjoying the company of other bikers. Saburo & I were joined for a drink one evening by a Scots lad who lives in Whistler called Kevin. Wisely Saburo doesn't drink, unwisely he came out with Kevin & I who
THERE BE BEARS!
Outside a place called Golden, BC. Bush camping with Saburo on route to the bikers meet in Nakusp. do. So after a good night out in little Nakusp & as we were strolling back to the campsite we passed a community centre that had a wedding reception going on. We had the choice, go to bed after a nice night out & wake up fresh tomorrow or crash the wedding, hit the bar & then show them our moves on the dance floor. Can you guess what we chose to do?
From experience I know there are two main methods of crashing a wedding & after I found out from one of the bridesmaids that the bride & groom had already left as she had a headache (bad omen or what) I chose the second & looking inconspicuous went out the window as I hit the dancefloor.
The following day would finally be time to head north towards Alaska - hungover as it turned out.
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Claire Tunley
non-member comment
gald you're having such a good time, I'm not jealous at all (however all this talk of bears is still worrying). How many chocolate bars are you getting through each day now? C x