Riding out of Alberta off of my only true rest period in the last two months started painfully. In Calgary I rested for a few days until I could walk somewhat without limping again. I rejoiced in the partial return of sub-human flexibility; what I did not realize was that my muscle groups bundled together and pinched my nerves, which is a big reason why I ride 100-150 miles every single day, usually only sleeping for a few hours until the wet morning cold wakes me up, then doing it again anyway. Finding my way out of the city was confusing. Calgary is broken into four quadrants, each with independently numbered avenues and streets. I had to get to 14th avenue, but I got it wrong three times. Alas, the more I get lost the more I discover. My goal was to ride an easy day to Banff, only 80 miles. I am exploring another country, the last thing I want to do is rush through it. The miles pass quickly because the road signs measure distance in kilometers. I like kilometers. 150 kilometers registers in my mind as 150 miles, a full day of hard riding. Shortly thereafter I come upon another sign telling me I've already gone 50 kilometers. Kilometers are awesome, I wish the states would use them. The cover of Canadian Cycling magazine read: "How to train for your first century (100 km)." I thought to myself wow, I do double that many times a week by accident. I can't help it, I just love riding, every second in the saddle I'm awestruck at a new beautiful mountain I've never seen or a hill to challenge myself and conquer. It's the greatest.
About twenty kilometers prior to Canmore my left pedal broke. I pulled into a small village playground to examine it when it started to rain. The spring snapped in half. I used a tube patch, tons of adhesive glue, and duct tape to try to keep the remaining half of the spring from sliding backward, but it was no use. I rode to Canmore using just my right leg. I saw a sign for a hostel. I rode a few kilometers off the highway and found it buried in the woods underneath a beautiful mountain range. I rode in, found the office was closed, so i read my book in the living room. After the thunderstorm began I decided I wasn't sleeping outside, so I waited for the other travellers to leave and I went back to the meeting room; a room connecting the lobby and the patio. There were huge tables in this room, and they were arranged in a manner that could hide me from people walking by the door. I locked my bike up outside, set my cell phone to wake me up at 5 AM, and went to sleep. People kept walking by, shutting lights off, but no one bothered me.
When I sleep on the floor my legs don't recover, so I awoke just as tired and rode off to Canmore. I got there super early, but to my luck there were several bike shops that would be open in just a few hours. I rode around and saw people camping ina line by a park. I spoke with some of the line campers, and they said a folk festival was about to start. I met some great people, but sadly I didn't want to pay 40 dollars. I wandered some more and found a coffee shop. I got apple cider, read my book (which is really friggin' boring) and discovered that next door the food pantry was making a free pancake sausage breakfast for the whole town. Woohoo! Never pass up on free food. There was a pretty good old timey folk band playing, and the pancakes were delicious. I got thirds, then rode off to a bike shop. The first to open was a general sporting goods store. I talked to the bike mechanic, and he said he needed to get rid of some crank brothers pedals. Delighted to find out I didn't have to pay for expensive spd's, I negotiated to fifteen dollars. Woohoo I got new pedals! I rode to the laundromat, ran my clothes, then rode over to another bike shop to hopefully get fitted. As I've become a stronger and stronger rider I lean forward more into a racing position, making me more aerodynamic and using my ass and lower back more. Unfortunately, this means I give myself numb nuts sometimes. I want my nuts to live! The bike fitter was on vacation, so a mechanic just did it for me for free. He also let me use the stand out back so I could tune my bike. Another mechanic needed the stand, so he just applied chain cleaner and sprayed it down for me. These guys were awesome, my drive train was spick and span. I trued my wheels, pumped my tires, re-lubed my chain, and hit the road. My progress was slow, even though the winds were only medium. I rodeto Lake Luoise then pulled over to find some food. I found food, and I also found a really awesome Australian girl. She's gonna take a car trip that will go through all the states I've been through. Weirdly awesome. As always, I said my goodbyes, a traveller must press on. I didn't press on so much as pass out on a park bench while eating a banana, but at least I got some rest. Then I got back on the bike. I rode to Golden, Alberta. I stopped here because it was about dark and 150 kilometers to the next place to find food. Out of curiosity I asked a hotel clerk how much a room was. 97 looneys, or Canadian dollars, and that was standard in this town due to its remote location and beauty. Most of the continent is beautiful, to me that hot tub looked friggin' beautiful! Alas, I got a burger then slept in a bulldozer. As I rode away from the hotel my tire skidded out on a series of round metal bars that took place for the road. Apparently this fends off big horn sheep as well as humans on bikes. I saw a construction site, locked my bike up in a bulldozer, climbed up to the cockpit, tried the door, opened it, and passed out on the steering wheel of a big ass earth mover. A special badass sleepiness took over.
Around 4:30 AM the wetness and coldness woke me, as usual. I rode to McDonalds, got some food, and read my book (which really friggin' sucks) until the light shown and it was warm enough to ride. The ride was real easy. I rode about 60 kilometers and got to a cafe/hotel by about 9:30. Two and a half hours, 30 plus miles, I must be going downhill. The waitress was English and super intrigued by what i was doing. she got me free coffee and introduced me to other equally awesome staff people. One showed me the hot tub, and said I was welcome to use it. We both recently saw the decemberists, we both went on adventures all the time, and just like the english and welch staff girls, this girl was pretty awesome. So I jumped in the hot tub naked. In just a few minutes my legs felt soooo relaxed. Then a helicopter practically landed right on top of me. Apparently they're looking for gold witha giant metal detector. The wind blew a bunch of leaves into the tub, so I cleaned it up, naked of course. Respecting the extreme opposites of my pale torso and tanned extremities, a gold surveyor decided he was gonna show me the best spot in vancouver island. And it looks pretty awesome. Unfortunately the girls had to work and couldnt party in the hot tub, but such is life. This is literally the worst of my problems, at least they all told me I looked hot in ski pants. So I continued to ride. Rolling hills, downhill mostly, all the way to Canada's Glacier National Park. Galcier National Park in Montana was gorgeous, but this one had its own charm. I had to ride through many dark tunnels, but I didnt get hit by a car, so I just kept climbing Rogue's Pass. After summiting the mountain it was, once again, mostly downhill. I am now blogging from a hostel in British Columbia. Once I got west of the mountains torrential downpours turned to drizzles, and the towns got closer together. Finally I get to sleep in a bed. Not a bulldozer, not the floor, not illegally, just a bed. TV is a pretty cool invention for a tired athlete like me :)
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