Odyssey to Banff

By John Joyce

On Saturday 21 June 2008 I started cycling with about 40 other cyclists to Banff to raise money for Cystic Fibrosis.. Nine days later after cycling 1164.64km and climbing some 1773 metres I cycled into Banff. It was a brutal ride; I am grateful I did it but not sure I would want to do it again.
I will keep this article short and as most things in life it will have a beginning , a middle and a ending. Just like life, it is some time difficult to know where the middle is. I started this piece Thursday 19 June and thought I might release it before I left. Some of you suspect I wrote all of it before I left. Well I had thought of that, just like many travel articles are done that way.
The week before departing was memorable for the wrong reasons. I was going to miss the Jazz Festival plus I had a cold, probably caught after kayak racing and my back and neck were in a bad way. The chiropractor worked on my neck and back twice that week and assured me my back would be fine but the neck would haunt me due to nine days of protracted usage. He also imparted some wisdom to me that I should forgo kayak racing and singles tennis for that week. Diane, my wife had also been entreating me to do the same. This course of action was particularly mournful for me since I wanted to flaunt my new wing kayak paddle.
With a nine day cycling trip through British Columbia. one needs an appropriate book so I visited the local library and searched for a Pierre Berton. No luck as the library was under going renovations for some impending disaster: locusts attacks, library fines indexed to petroleum prices or paragliders crashing into to the upstairs reference section and disobeying the three large ‘silence please’, signs. After much screen gazing the assistant asked.
“Which Pierre Berton would you like? There are 34 titles here, but all are in storage except one which is located in 945.23.24.3 “
“The lightest one please.”
Well, Pierre Berton can keep for the Christmas holiday , I thought.
The night before leaving presented many problems what to bring and of course what not to bring. The wing paddle was an easy decision and also my snow shoes even if they are light weight. I felt bad leaving my tennis racket behind but I bought many of my sweat bands. The small chess set and two harmonicas made it along with the Swiss knife, flashlight, green ipod. The latter topped up with Charles Mingus, Cream, the Shadows, Thelonious Monk, Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter. Well there is also a lot of Phillip Glass and for conversational purposes only, Massive Attack. Now I ran the calculation several times. Nine days, cycling socks(four pairs recently purchased) and evening socks. Cycling shorts and tops for nine days? What about laundry? I tried to pack and unpacked the suitcase five times each time removing some precious piece of clothing ------ hey it might snow!. The suitcase was fine for business trips on which I might surreptitiously pass off my laundry on expenses but for this cycling trek it was too small. I finally packed it making a vow that I would never open it until I reached Banff.
So I departed White Rock with the other colourfully dressed cyclists destined for the first overnight at Harrison Hot Springs. My worries were simple: laundry, hearing a “ you’re looking good” and possibly a “thataboy” after cycling to the top of one of those colossal mountains.
Here is the route:

• Day 1. June 21 - White Rock to Harrison Hot Springs
• Day 2. June 22 - Harrison Hot Springs to Manning Park
• Day 3. June 23 - Manning Park to Osoyoos
• Day 4. June 24 - Osoyoos to Grand Forks
• Day 5. June 25 - Grand Forks to Trail
• Day 6. June 26 - Trail to Creston
• Day 7. June 27 - Creston to Cranbrook
• Day 8. June 28 - Cranbrook to Radium
• Day 9. June 29- Radium to Banff

So there is a lot of route 3 here.

The first surprise of the journey was the road to Manning Park . It is much steeper than I imagined . The next time I drive or sit on Siggie’s bus for a day of Nordic skiing I will fondly relive the gradients. The big hills in and out of Osoyoos are obvious but the Iberian scenery together with lake Osoyoos almost compensates.
Grand Forks is the confluence of the Granby and Kettle Rivers. The Granby flowed past our hotel and was cold and brash with no hint of the fresh water Nymphs. By know I was thinking more and more of Greeek Mythology and had forgotten about Pierre Berton Books. At Grand Forks I managed to get my washing done, a replacement suitcase and chocolate. The last two items thanks to my good wife. I used the chocolate wisely.
1535 and 1774 are not calendar years but the elevations in metres of Paulson Summit and Kootnay Pass. At the top of Kootnay Pass, after two hours of grinding at 8km/hr I gave myself a “thataboy” and had warm memories of the chess club and promised to make peace with the Hungarian members and gladly pay the annual dues. Now , a non cyclist might think that us cyclists love to glide down hills. Not true!. The concentration is enormous plus the arms begin to hurt with the strain and did I mention neck problems?
How was the weather on this trip? Good. No rain except a sprinkle in Osoyoos. It was cold at the top of the mudslide area entering Manning and with the body hot from excursion it was no place to enter into a conversation about blues guitarists or whether the ideal bicycle is made of steel or carbon. Heat is the big worry but fortunately on most of the steep climbs there were clouds to shield us. The one exception was 40km outside Banff when the temperature reached 37C on a nasty climb that had us enter Alberta and cross the Great Divide. While drinking water at the bottom, some one pointed out Castle Mountain and Eisnenhower Tower.
I probably drank 8 to 10 bottles of water each day and wondered if by Christmas my metabolism would accept beer and wine without first diluting it.
How was the bottom? Not too bad. There were complaints about backs, knees and necks but with me it was my neck, just like the good chiropractor had said. The question arises with any such complaint could a different bicycle fitting alleviate the problem?
The trip was well organised with appropriate rest stops and food Our luggage was transported(hey see my new suitcase?) to the next hotel. Often we rode in groups and some times alone. The former requires being able to ride at a steady pace in a straight line keeping the wheel in front just a few cms away. Riders take turns breaking the wind. Riding like this requires concentration but is an expeditious way of covering distance. There is no time for contemplative thought or savouring the passing vistas. Riding alone can be lonely but also relaxing . Suddenly one is aware of the many shades of green that constitute a landscape and the sound scape. I use my ipod on bus trips to Manning, flights from Calgary to Vancouver and on the Sea Bus to North Vancouver but never cycling. I don’t want to miss out on any “thataboys” or “you’re looking good”
So what does a cyclist think about besides where is the next rest stop? He thinks of music and wonders why he packed two harmonicas. He muses about the rock formations and flora yearning for a greater knowledge of Greek Mythology. Weeks later he would read;
“THE NYMPHAI (or Nymphs) were female spirits of the natural world, minor goddesses of the forests, rivers, springs, meadows, mountains and seas. They were responsible for the crafting of nature's wild beauty, from the arrangement and growth of the plants, flowers and trees, to the nurture of wild birds and animals, and the formation of rocky caverns, springs, wetlands and brooks. The Naiades were fresh-water Nymphs who inhabited the rivers, streams, lakes, marshes, fountains and springs of the earth. They were immortal, minor divinities who were invited to attend the assemblies of the gods on Mount Olympos.”
On my return to Vancouver I was not invited to Mount Olympos but the Peak of Grouse Mountain for the Seek the Peak event. 16km trail race from Ambleside Ocean up the Grouse Grind to the 1250 metre peak of Grouse Mountain, in support of Rethink Breast Cancer. My body had not fully recovered but I enjoyed the event. It was Strawberry Sunday at Wimbledon so my indolent tennis buddies watched Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal on television instead of getting close to nature or meeting a downed paraglider .
I am no longer drinking as much water and have resumed cycling and tennis. I like my wing paddle but am giving more thought to rejoining the chess club.

© John Joyce 11 August 2008
1549 words
FNASR