Drumheller to Saskatoon

Distance travelled over last 5 days: 497 km (and another ~40 km by car)
Total distance: 2077 km

Prairie weather is an fascinating thing. As I made my through Calgary-Drumheller-Chinook under fair-weather conditions, I was also dodging rainstorms left and right (or east and west, if you prefer). It seems like the storms around here can develop in a flash, and they can be over you before you know it (more about that later).

Looking eastward while tenting at the outskirts of Drumheller, I witnessed some of the most dynamic skies I've seen along my trip. The night proved to be dry and warm for me, but as I headed eastward the following morning, the Delia cafe owner told me about the two inches of rain that hit their town in a span of 15 minutes. I'm pretty happy I didn't have to tent out in that!

Looking eastward from Drumheller towards Delia

The wind is a love/hate relationship. First the hate: Drumheller to Chinook, and Chinook to Kindersley were back-to-back days of moderate headwinds. On a windless day I might average close to 25 km/h on such terrain, but in the wind with my bulky and weighty load, I could only manage 18. "The invisible force" elevates the demand on the body, and requires extra power and energy to get from A to B. I was very pleased with my effort and determination, after arriving in Chinook, to have covered in excess of 150 km. It was a very long day of cycling through flat terrain and straight highways. As much as I wanted to hit the imperial century mark of 100 mi (160 km), which I would have attained by persisting until Cereal, I knew it would be better for me to tent and rest up when I reached Chinook. That evening, I met Denis and Sonja at their quiet residence in Chinook. They were very welcoming: I tented in their yard, and we shared a range of conversations both in the evening and the next morning. In their backyard, a whole range of birds take sanctuary, and start their morning singing at about 4 am. The only bird I could identify was the mourning dove, which was unmistakable thanks to Mom and Dad's bird clock which hangs in the kitchen.

Like I said earlier, storms can develop in no time at all on the prairies. Day number 21 from Chinook started out with fair weather. I crossed the line from Alberta into Saskatchewan, passing the border town of Alsask along the way. A little ways further, and thunderstorms started to appear on the horizon - both to the east and the west. The skies started to darken around me.

The calm before the storm

It started to spritz a few raindrops. Getting ready for an "adventure", I donned my rain jacket and shoe booties. The rain intensified, and the winds started to blow crosswise. Sooner than I could expect, the rain was pelting down sideways. It was about 3 pm, and I was enveloped in darkness! The wind forced me to lean my bike in order to hold my balance, and finally, when the gusts challenged my ability to stay on the shoulder, I decided I had to stop for my own safety. I couldn't be seen in the rain and darkness, and I couldn't even hold a straight line!

Thankfully, I had two helmet-mounted strobe lights. I flipped them on and swivelled my body around, signalling down the first pair of headlights coming my way - it was a truck. The driver stopped, and I ran up to the window; I didn't even have to explain myself: "Get your stuff in the back, I'm getting you out of here!" she said.

I stepped into the cab wearing a soaking wet jacket. The rain was so loud on the windshield that we could hardly hold a conversation much of the time. Shannon, as I found out, was on her way to Kindersley for an appointment. She lives in that tiny town of Alsask I had passed up just a little while earlier.

Roughly 40 km to the east, the rainstorm never really hit Kindersley. It was fairly sunny, and certainly quite warm. The two of us stopped at Timmies for drinks and conversation before she took off on her business. I regret not having the presence of mind to get some form of contact information so that we could have stayed in touch.

I found residence that night with a last-minute couchsurfing request to Teagan. We had a fun hour or so of conversation while preparing and enjoying a chocolate fondue before I took my rest. Fondue is quickly becoming the comfort food of choice for this trip - it started in Calgary.

After a rest day to regroup in Kindersley, I took off for Rosetown... or so I thought. With heavy tailwinds, I made it to Rosetown by about 10 am. After eating an entire roast chicken for lunch, I decided to go for broke and set my sights for Saskatoon - one day ahead of the plan. Even 200 km isn't too far when you're sustaining 35, even 40 km/h down the highway. All the way to Saskatoon, the weather was sunny and bright. The riding was easy; my only job was to keep the cranks going around.

207.2 km from Kindersley to Saskatoon

Needless to say, I surprised my host in Saskatoon, Brad, by showing up a day early. Armed with an incorrect phone number, I wasn't able to get a hold of him to let him know about my amazing pace for the day.

Today, I rested in Saskatoon to attend a local church, visit the downtown district, and listen in on the jazz festival. In the evening, Brad, his fiancee Christina and I cooked up some butter chicken and (of course) chocolate fondue for the all the guys staying at the shared home.

In other news, my chinstrap tan-line is coming in real nice.

Fairmont to Drumheller

Distance traveled over the last 7 days: 530 km
Total distance: 1580 km

The rockies were really amazing. Although vistas were hidden by overcast skies for most of my two-day journey through Vermilion pass, there were many animal sightings, including rams, mangy-looking mountain goats, and a bear cub.

The mountain pass is characterised by two summits separated by a long valley. At about 100 km in length, the whole pass can be negotiated in one day; however, I decided to camp at Mcleod Meadows on the advice of my previous host, Dave. I also wanted to play my chances to see if I'd get better weather on day two. At camp, rain hit, and I ended up pitching my tent in the downpour. It was poorly timed, because a little while later the rain let up, but I was still left with a wet tent.

There were a few other campers in the park on the night of the Canuck's game 7 match-up. I shared a fire with Jason and Naomi, which I used to dry out my soaked clothing. I also heated some rocks to warm my sleeping bag - it was going to be a cold night.

The next morning I found some very tame deer wandering the campgrounds for food - I couldn't scare them away. Thankfully their roaming about wasn't a nuisance. Around the noon-hour I crossed the continental divide (which delineates the Pacific ocean drainage basin), and after descending into Castle Junction, decided to push onward to Banff. Turns out I probably traded a quiet hostel at the junction for a noisier, more expensive one.

Like the rockies, Banff was also overcast, so instead of hanging around to do touristy things, I left the next day for Calgary. Both the weather and the view improved as I went on my way. I passed by a pair of other cyclists - Jason and Isabella - who had left from Whistler and were headed to Montreal. They were traveling much heavier than I, each with panniers and a trailer to boot. Alberta sure is flat in comparison to BC - there seems to be one exception, however: Calgary. I would spend the next three nights in the warm company of the Wiebes, who live on one of the hilltops in Calgary. They were wonderful hosts, and were receptive to my desire to extend my stay in order to connect with the rest of the saints in Calgary on Sunday.

Since leaving Calgary, I've had fair skies. In Beiseker, I met Verlin (three separate times, actually). A semi-retired school teacher and singer-songwriter, he's trying to launch sales of his first CD. I told him to get a myspace webpage and keep in touch. Verlin, post a comment with a link to your myspace page if you're reading.

A touring cyclist once passed along the advice that "the difference between an adventure and an ordeal is attitude." If I had remembered that after leaving Beiseker, it would have helped me manage my detour around impassable construction on hwy 9. My "home-brew" detour consisted of 10 km of farmers' roads of various textures: from gravel to muddy patches! After lugging my bike through several mud-slicks, my shoes, wheels, fenders and brakes were in need of a serious cleaning!

I didn't quite make it to Drumheller in one day, so I camped in Carbon. Verlin had spoken affectionately of the place in a passing comment that afternoon. It was great tenting weather, and camping in Carbon set me up for an easy ride into Drumheller the next day, with lots of time to go sightseeing.

Riding into Drumheller was stunning. The natural erosion of the mountains, and the desert-like foliage fit the Jurassic-mania that fills the city. While in Drumheller, I climbed up the 86' tall dinosaur outside the visitor center, and visited the Tyrell Museum, where I saw enough dinosaur replicas to make my eyes weep from exhaustion.

Tonight, I have pitched my tent a few kilometers north of the city, on a plot of grass kindly provided by a farmer. It's windy tonight!