At least it’s not snowing

Yorkton to Roblin, MB. DAY: 95.26km. ODO: 2,778km. AVS: 14.8km/h. MXS: 42.0km/h. ATM: 6:24:01.

If every day was like today, I’d have packed it in and flown to Costa Rica by now. When I got up this morning, it was quite cool, and fully overcast (it had been clear and mild when I went to bed). I had breakfast and was packed and ready to go by 9:00. I had put on my rain jacket and water-resistant pants, just to keep warm. As I got on my bike to leave, I felt a drip.

I waited to see what would happen. I don’t like to over-react, otherwise I end up going to all the effort of digging out the rain gear and suiting up, only to find it’s just a brief shower. A few more drips. After a few minutes, the drips had become a light drizzle. Since the sky was solid grey, I unpacked the real rain gear and put it on. I left at 9:30. Before I was three blocks away, it was pouring.

I resigned myself to a day of rain, not too upset, as I have been very lucky so far. Everyone I meet tells me that it has been raining in Saskatchewan for two solid weeks, but this is the first I have seen. It might, of course, be like Vancouver, where it will be dry for ten straight days, and when it finally rains everyone whines “all it ever does here is rain”. (And they say I’m negative).
I rode eastbound on highway 10. The first thing I noticed is that yesterday’s north-easterly wind had become an easterly wind, with increased velocity. I remember before I left home – so many people telling me how I’ll sail across the prairies, barely needing to pedal, pushed by the winds at my back. What rubbish! I had a tailwind from Banff until Calgary, a cross-wind from Stettler to Biggar, and it’s been cross- or headwinds ever since.

Seven kilometres out of town, I got a rear flat. As you will recall from yesterday, this is a brand new tube. In wind and driving rain, I put another brand new tube in, reassembled the load, and carried on, now with numbed fingers. Three kilometres later, it’s flat again. I decide to walk the 10k back to town, and sort it out, figuring that I’d probably need to stay another night and start again Wednesday. After 5km, a nice guy with a truck stopped and offered me a lift to a bike shop.

As we rode into town, he asked me where I was from, and when I said Vancouver, he told me a story about the time he went to visit a friend in Fort Nelson. This often happens when I meet people in small towns. One woman said “Oh, you’re from Vancouver, what a coincidence! I lived in Kamloops for two years back in the 80’s”. Anyway, the guy in the truck reported that he hadn’t enjoyed the trip, as the scenery was nothing but rocks. Uh, you mean the Rocky Mountains?

Anyway, I went to the bike shop, and I decided that the problem may very well be he tire itself, as I can see a couple of well-worn spots on it. So, I bought a new tire. After that, I grabbed a little lunch in town. Recognising that the sensible course of action would be to find a hotel and relax, I decided, since it was only 1:30 and I had eight hours of daylight left, to get back on the road.

What a gruelling ride! The wind seemed to get stronger, and both pairs of my Gore-Tex gloves, as it turns out, are about as waterproof as a sea sponge. My canvas shoe covers don’t seem to be dong much to keep my feet dry, or warm, either. I knew I should have bought the neoprene covers. I have neoprene gloves, but they are buried in the bottom of one of my panniers, and you can bet that if I start searching for them on the side of the road that they will all be open and emptied before I find the gloves.

Thus, within two hours my hands and feet were all soaked, and numb from the cold. But, I think about other things, and carry on, and there isn’t a hell of a lot of choice, besides turning back, which I wasn’t prepared to do.

At about 4:30, the rain stopped, but the trucks that passed were blowing all the residual water up off the road. It was another hour before the roads dried up. I tried to wring out my gloves, but the liners, being fleece, don’t ring out well. I was forced to suck the water out of each finger. After that, they warmed up considerably.

I arrived in Roblin, Manitoba at 7:45, but then I remembered that I am now in the Central time zone, so it was actually 8:45. I checked into the local motor hotel and grabbed dinner at the only place open: “Chicken Delight”. Ugh! The resemblance to actual chicken is purely promotional.

Doubt the power of the wind? Check out my average speed for the day: 14.8 km/hour. That’s six hours and 24 minutes of almost continuous riding (only stopping to drink, eat chocolate, and urinate). Incidentally, I recently weighed my bike at one of the truck weigh scales. 110 kilograms (including rider). That would be a total of 240 pounds or so that my poor Achilles tendon is pushing into to the wind.

The primary thing to note about Manitoba, from a technical-cycling perspective, is that the highways suck! In most places, if there is any shoulder at all, it’s about two inches wide, with a three inch drop to the gravel, which is generally quite soft and quite unsuitable for riding upon with road tires. However, in most cases the width is moot, as there is no shoulder at all, just a white line painted against the gravel edge. Fortunately, I have encountered little traffic, and of that, most motorists have been quite cooperative. I’m not sure if will be as good after Winnipeg (toward the lakes and Ontario), though.

I don’t think the Roblin area riding is held by the Liberals:

Some days I just have to bitch

Tuxford to Regina. DAY: 89.04km. ODO: 2,459km. AVS: 17.6km/h. MXS: 38.0km/h. ATM: 5:03.

I woke up at 5:00am, as all of those lovely birds that I am so fond of were all chattering up a storm. However, as I was awake, I did notice two White-tailed Deer standing twelve feet away from my tent. They hung around for about ten minutes before moving on. Then, I got more sleep.
However, I was up again at 8:00, and I got packing. Though I am constantly getting more efficient at packing up all my stuff, I’m not getting any faster at it, and I still wasn’t on the road until 10:00. There were still no park staff on site (must be a union shop), so I didn’t have to pay for the past two days.

I was heading southeast to Regina. Unfortunately, the wind was coming from the southeast, just my luck. The wind had much less strength than previous days, but once you et moving into it, it still seems pretty strong. On the way to the Trans-Canada junction, I spotted a Marbled Godwit looking for food on a stubbly field.

I was quite lucky with the rain once again. As I was slogging down the Trans-Canada, about 30km west of Regina (you can see downtown Regina from 35km away), there were sheets of rain coming down about a mile to the south, but it was still a mix of sun and cloud where I was. About 10km from Regina, I got hit with just a few drops, but it started pouring behind me (no doubt onto the other cyclists from BC that I had passed). I checked into my hostel at 5:00pm, just as it started to pour. Beat it again!

I stopped for lunch today at “Chubby’s Bar and Grill”, in the town of Belle Plaines. In these small towns, wherever I stop for lunch, they always have a TV playing, and they all seem to be tuned to the same channel – some CTV station. The show that is always on is some sort of talk show cum self-help program, hosted by a woman who looks vaguely like a young Marlo Thomas. Today’s topic was on sleeping problems, and they had some kind of expert on that was explaining sleep issues from all sorts of perspectives. At one point, he said that he was accustomed to seeing numerous patients who do not know that caffeine causes sleeplessness if consumed in the evening. What kind of moron can grow to adulthood without learning a thing like that? If these are the kind of twits that are sucking up the heath care dollars, maybe a little privatisation is a good idea. If they have to pay $35 to ask a doctor a stupid question, maybe they’ll use their brains a little.

And as long as I’m on a good rant – the commercials on daytime television! There was one ad, one of those ones that shows someone in some “lifestyle activity”, with a voiceover explaining why this product is perfect for his or her activity. This one showed a guy climbing a Kilimanjaro-like peak in burning noon-day sun, and his commentary was all about how he needed a good, strong antiperspirant that could handle the job. There were lots of camera shots up the guys’ armpit, etc. Who the hell cares what you smell like when you’re doing something like that? Need to smell nice just in case you run into Prince Charles and Camilla out on some precipice? Give me a break!

As long as I’m in complaining mode, let’s talk about these guys (I have yet to see a woman driving one, though I’m sure it must happen) in giant motorhomes that have every convenience of home. What kind of mileage do these things get? It can’t be very good if they can justify burning the extra fuel to tow their Grand Cherokee behind them! It’s this sort of resource wasting that really burns me. The parodist in me is tempted to continue my trip across the country with a small tricycle tied to the back of my bike.

Hitchcock’s squirrels

Tuxford (Sightseeing). DAY: 37.26km. ODO: 2,370km. AVS: 22.0km/h. MXS: 51.0km/h. ATM: 1:41.

Since I’ve been here, I have seen: White Pelicans, Common Loon, Western Grebe, American Wigeon, Franklin’s Gull, Spruce Grouse, Grey Catbird, Rufous-sided Towhee (spotted western) and a Chipping Sparrow.

As I am staying another night, I wanted a little more food. The small store here in the park is only open weekends, so I had to ride into town. Tuxford, the nearest town, is about 15km away. I rode in with the wind at my back, only to find that Tuxford has no stores at all. Back through the wind I rode.

I went for a long walk up the lake, looking for the Buffalo (which are apparently kept somewhere nearby) as well as historical information – apparently this park is named after a place into which the Indians used to chase the buffalo, trapping them for slaughter. But I found nothing, other than a bunch of mosquitoes and a wood tick that tried to attach itself to my leg.

Tim’s legacy, coast to coast:

There are still no other campers here, but there are some people that come during the day with their boats, mainly to fish. However, there is a crew out there today water-skiing, with something that I’m sure they refer to as “music” blasting periodically over the water.

The squirrels here are a little annoying. They must be used to people feeding them, as there are several varieties that are forever running around my site. One kind, that makes a noise that sounds like a bad cell-phone ring, appeared under my picnic table suddenly this morning, as I was sitting at it reading Saturday’s Globe and Mail. He let loose his ear-splitting ring, startling me into smashing my knee against the top of the table and spilling my tea. I jumped up and threw a rock at him, but he only chased it to see if it was something edible. They need more birds of prey around here.

Finally… Sex!

Cutbank to Tuxford (Buffalo Pound Provincial Park). DAY: 152.00km. ODO: 2,332km. AVS: 21.9km/h. MXS: 47.0km/h. ATM: 6:56.

As I was packing up, an American Goldfinch dropped in to feed on the dandelions. They were much higher than he, a problem he solved by walking up the stem until the top tipped to the ground and he could pick at the seeds.

I set out at 10:30 without a firm destination in mind, just a direction. I would travel southeast on highway 42, another quiet, secondary route. I thought about spending a night at (Tommy) Douglas Provincial Park, also on Lake Diefenbaker, but as it was only about 55km away, it seemed like too short a day. The next park was 150km away, which I didn’t know if I felt up to. The only practical place in between to camp would be a municipal site in the town of Eyebrow, a little more than halfway from Danielson.

By the time I got to Eyebrow, it was only 4:30 and I decided to keep going, as the Buffalo place sounded more interesting. Unfortunately, the wind (in a rather abrupt change from the past week) has shifted, and was now blowing from south-southeast. It wasn’t a strong wind, but I was heading straight into it, and combined with my own speed, added challenge.

After the town of Keeler, I spotted a pair of Willets on the bank of a marsh and stopped to observe them for a while. This turned out to be quite interesting, as I had an opportunity to observe them copulate, which was the most excitement I’ve seen for some time. Also along the way I saw some Eastern Kingbirds.

I arrived at Buffalo Pound Provincial Park at 7:15. I am the only human in the entire place. Very quiet! I don’t usually light a fire when camp, but I did this evening, for a change. It had been quite a cool day, and I was feeling a bit chilled at the end, and this warmed me as I prepared my dinner.

Birding has been very good since I left Saskatoon, and I can already see that it will be good here too, judging by the numbers of birds passing through my campsite (and singing around it).

Sunset over Buffalo Jump Lake:

Dief the Lake

Saskatoon to Cutbank (Danielson Provincial Park): DAY: 108.57km. ODO: 2,180km. AVS: 24.6km/h. MXS: 42.5km/h. ATM: 4:24.

I left Saskatoon at the bright and early hour of 12:00 noon today. I followed highway 291, a little-used southbound route that follows, roughly, the South Saskatchewan River. I passed a great little marsh where I saw a Horned Grebe, a large flock of Franklin’s Gulls, and a dozen Black Terns.

I am encamped within the boundaries of Danielson Provincial Park, which sits on the north shore of Lake Diefenbaker, an artificial reservoir created by the Gardiner and Q’Appele dams. I arrived at 5:30, which left me lots of time to prepare dinner and go for a walk. During my walk I saw two white-tailed deer, a beaver, a Yellow warbler, a flock of Cedar Waxwings, a Flicker, and possibly a pair of Grackles. Some nearby coyotes howl periodically as well, at sundown and beyond.
It’s not a bad campground, for a public park. Pretty quiet, lots of foliage. Reminds me of Bird’s Hill, near Winnipeg, a bit.

Let’s just make this more difficult

Saskatoon (Sightseeing). DAY: 0.0km. ODO: 2,072km. AVS: 0.0km. MXS: 0.0km. ATM: 0:00.

Well, while I was immersing myself in popular culture last evening, my wallet un-immersed itself from my back pocket. Losing my wallet is traumatic for me, rather like the prospect of castration.

In some ways, I feel like my identity is packaged within that cheap piece of cow ass. Perhaps, though, this is the universe telling me to get over such neuroses and accept that all it contains is a bunch of plastic bits bearing embossed numbers and low quality photographs. Nonetheless, it presents a certain degree of inconvenience in this modern cash-challenged society. At least I have a passport with which to prove my identity, should this be nrecessary.

There were no more screenings after the one I attended last night, and there were no matinees today, so I am hoping that it is still there. I shall attend to the theatre when they open tonight at 6:30 to attempt to retrieve it. In the meantime, I have cancelled my credit cards as a precautionary measure, should some underpaid theatre janitor decide to go on an AmEx spending spree.

This all took up most of my morning. Under the circumstances, I notified the front dresk that I would be staying an additional night, and I did some sightseeing this afternoon. I went to the Mendel Art Gallery, but it is closed for a show change. The rest of the time I spent wandering around the park that follows the banks of the South Saskatchewan River, and browsing a pretty decent used bookstore.

@ 18:10 – Back in action!

Yay! My wallet was found and I have retrieved it from the theatre. What lessons are to be learned from this experience?

• Avoid popular culture.
• Avoid keeping wallets in synthetic trousers without fastening the pocket closure.

Roughing it in Saskatoon

Biggar to Saskatoon. DAY: 109.23km. ODO: 2,072km. AVS: 21.4km. MXS: 47.0km. ATM: 5:05.

Saskatoon. It has a melodic sound to it, like it should be the subject of a Gordon Lightfoot song. Maybe I should write one for him.

I was on the road by 8:00 this morning, as it was too bloody cold to lay still. Three degrees apparently, and that’s without considering the windchill factor. To think that I was worried about the prairie heat. It was an uneventful ride into Saskatoon, except that the wind moved a little more north, so it was closer to a direct cross-wind much of the way.

Upon arriving in town, I searched out the tourist info office (they don’t make it easy here) and picked up a copy of the accommodation guide. There is no hostel (unless you count the Salvation Army, which I do not) and the YMCA doesn’t rent rooms here, so that left me browsing B&Bs. The two that were close to downtown that sounded apealling I rode by, but I found no answer at both (I’m too cheap even to spend quarters, apparently). Anyway, for tonight I am at the Quality Hotel (soon to be renamed the Hilton Garden Inn). The best thing is that they didn’t blink when I took my fully loaded bike into the elevator and rolled it into my 12th floor room. I will look for a more economical option tomorrow, if I am planning to stay more than a day or two.

As things were getting a little gamey, I walked 13 blocks west to a laundromat to rinse things out. A couple of people raised their eyebrows when I took my pants off in front of the washing machine, but I heard no comments.

The restaurant situation downtown is pretty dismal, and there are no internet cafes, so I’m using the overpriced hotel internet to pick up my 487 emails. Twelve of them were not spam.

As there is a theatre next to the hotel, and as I felt it appropriate to expose myself to a little popular culture (so that I will remember why I avoid exposing myself to popular culture), I defied my better judgment and went to see Star Wars 6. The usual formula, but better than the last one (ie: no “Jar-Jar”).

More wind…

Kerrobert to Biggar. DAY: 96.34km. ODO: 1,963km. AVS: 23.3km/h. MXS: 73.0km/h. ATM: 4:08.

For the most part, I had a tail wind, but it was from an angle, so it was partly a cross-wind too. The highway generally goes east, but once in a while it will dogleg to the north, to pass around old man Johnson’s farm, or something. During these north-bound jogs, I am hit with very strong cross-winds, and have been pushed into the soft shoulder several times. The worst part is when a large cattle truck passes at high speed in the opposite direction. The effect of the altered airflow is like having a screen door slammed in your face (though screen doors typically smell better).

As previously mentioned, each time I pass a bit of wetland adjacent to the highway, I flush whatever waterfowl happens to be feeding there (and there are a lot of these small patches of wetland). Besides the Shovelers, there has been a lot of smaller ducks with what appears to be a white stripe on its face, and white patches under the wings. They take off so soon I can never see them well. I now believe these to be Blue-winged Teal.

Today I passed by the towns Kelfield, Ruthilda and Springwater, before arriving in Biggar. Their slogan is “New York is big, but this is Biggar”. It appears to be a nicer town than Kerrobert. It has a small campground just outside of town, in which I am the only occupant. I have managed to find a not-so windy spot behind a fence. And it certainly is windy. Each day, it seems to get stronger. Needless to say I am happy not to have it as a headwind.

I expect to arrive in Saskatoon tomorrow morning. There are no hostels there, so I am not sure where I will say, but at least I will finally find an internet connection. After seven days, there are no doubt a large number of Viaqra and Cialis solicitations to delete from my mailserver.

Eastern Alberta and western Saskatchewan have awful water. It tastes very strongly of sulphur.

Saskatchewan

Consort to Kerrobert, SK. DAY: 134.22km. ODO: 1,866km. AVS: 24.5km/h. MXS: 65.0km/h. ATM: 5:28.

Dark clouds were hovering, the sun poking through only occasionally, and the weather report showed rain everywhere between Prince Rupert and Winnipeg. I packed, and dressed, expecting rain, and left Consort at 9:30 with the tailwind still my companion. However, it was regularly shifting to a cross-wind, so I didn’t make as much speed as yesterday. Cross-winds are also hard on the arms and shoulders, as there’s a lot more work to keeping the bike going straight (especially when large trucks are passing). After I have my foot looked at I may also see about getting a massage in Saskatoon. I’m getting some nasty knots in my shoulders.

Highway 12 has a great, wide shoulder (right from Stettler) and very little traffic all the way to the Saskatchewan border, on the Alberta edge of which sits a very small town called “Compeer”, where I stopped for lunch.

I ate at the only place in town, the “Compeer Saloon”. I asked the barmaid if she had any juice, and she took me into the walk-in cooler behind the bar to look for some. The saloon is very peculiar (at least from a west-coast urban perspective), with metal doors, small barred windows, and a sign advising zero-tolerance toward barfights. There is a grill on one wall, where patrons can grill their own steaks. It was on this grill that my chicken burger was prepared, or rather, heated. It was a tiny, deep-fried looking disc that was placed on a tiny white bun with a tiny piece of iceberg lettuce. It came with zucchini sticks. As I was leaving the saloon, a woman got into an old Chrysler K-Car that was parked next to my bike, started it, drove over to the feed store, and got out. Total drive: 35 feet.

Entering Saskatchewan using this route is pretty low key. If it weren’t for the “Welcome to Alberta” sign for westbound travellers, one might not know one had crossed a boundary. The closest thing to a ‘Welcome’ sign was this advertisement for the local crime watch program (note the bullet holes):

There was also a significant decline in the quality of the highway. The shoulder disappeared entirely, there were plenty of potholes, sink-holes and missing patches of asphalt, and the surface was very bumpy and warped, all of which, along with the now predominant cross-wind, conspired to slow me down. The good news was that the minimal traffic seen on the Alberta side dwindled down to almost nothing. I don’t think I saw more than twenty vehicles the next 65km.

I saw a large number of skittish Shovelers along the way. I am still flushing them regularly (I think my bright yellow jacket isn’t helping – I also startled two horses today.) I also saw another American Avocet. A number of shorebirds and several potentially interesting ducks were bypassed for reasons of practicality (wind, mainly). There are many Western Meadowlarks as well.

After passing by the towns “Major” and “Superb”, neither of which appeared to be aptly named, I arrived in Kerrobert at about 4pm. The first thing I did was seek out the tourism information office, as I had no copy of a Saskatchewan accommodation guide, and had no idea where to stop for the day. I had hoped to make it another 37km to a town named Kelfield, but I didn’t know if that was an appropriate place to stop. I was advised by the town hall that the only place that had such information was a store on the corner near the curling rink that sells curios, but it is doesn’t open until Thursday.

After having tea at the town bakery, contemplating my next move (keep going, or spend the night here), I decided to stay. The only place to camp was the town RV park, which was right next to the gas station, and empty except for three picnic tables and a dumpster, and a local youth was roaring back and forth behind it on an ATV.

I selected the “Wild Goose Motel” as my bed for the night. It’s one of those standard small-town hovels, staffed by a woman who gets out of breath swiping a credit card and whose vocabulary seems limited to grunts. My room has green shag carpeting that is highlighted by fluorescent lighting that was surely intended for use in a tanning salon.

There appear to be three restaurants in town: “Jimmy’s”, “Ma’am’s”, and an unnamed place in the other hotel (that I rejected due to its ugly aluminum siding), connected to a busy cold beer off-sale counter. Jimmy’s slogan is “A meal without wine is like a day without sunshine”. Anita Bryant flashbacks aren’t an appetite stimulant for me. I chose Ma’am’s. It met my expectations perfectly.