Part 2: Cycling Glacier, Banff, Jasper - Day 8.

Day 8 at Sunwapta Falls Resort starts out like I feel; a bit drab and cloudy. Puttering around the cabin getting things organised, every little thing isn't quite right: cycling clothes I left outside overnight slightly damp, a tube of something in my wash bag has leaked a little, can't find my cycling sunnies, suitcase won't pack properly, the roof has caved in - little things like that.

I know what it is - the roof has caved in metaphorically on my mood. I'm pissed off because it is Day 8 of the tour, and the last all of us will be together on the road, bikes and all. I don't handle this type of stuff very well, and so rather than address it mentally upfront, I rumble and rage internally in pointless fashion.

Outside, everyone has gathered around the van for bike checks, route instructions etc. Nothing is said but I think the presence of the last day is hanging in the air. Checking and putting air into my tyres, the pump fitting won't do its thing, and I curse under my breath, "For f*** sake!".

Once again, David and I take off together (at least something is going right - he is a great partner!) and rumble down the road to Jasper. After a short while Jabe hops on as well, another positive omen.

But tension is still building behind my eyes: I can't get comfortable on the bike, my helmet is annoying me, the bumps in the road all appear to be targeting me specifically, and twice in quick succession I accidentally hit the stop button (located on my hood) for my cycle computer, something I haven't done all tour. Again, "For f*** sake!".

A small rise appears ahead. OK, enough of this! I let David and Jabe get ahead, and as they disappear over the crest, I check behind me (no-one within earshot) and then let out the loudest scream of frustration and melancholy I can muster. Enough, enough, enough! Deal with it, let it go and enjoy this time that is now, now!

It works - pacing back up to the other two, I feel much better and my outlook is re-oriented: I am going to have fun doing what I've had fun doing all tour: riding with great tour members on great roads with great scenery!

Mark, Stuart and James are ahead on the road, and I suggest we stealth up to them, and sweep pass doing a little cross-the-line arms-in-the-air victory dance. Not sure whether David and Jabe actually agreed as I'd already dropped it down a cog and powered up in order to attack. Getting closer, I put the hammer down and zoom past them, whooping in mock delight and doing a clumsy arm raise. They take it in good spirit, with shouts of "Go Len!", "Woo-hoo!" etc - that has been the whole spirit of the tour. Well that's me done for the day! I tootle along out front for a while before some consecutive rises slow me down and Mark, Stuart and James re-pass. It was a hollow mock-victory celebration for me, and this passing preserves the natural hierarchy of things: amongst this pack of hard core riders, I am at the bottom of the pecking order!

Soon after, they do their usual double back (I think this trio rode to the moon and back on this tour), and it's me, David and Jabe trundling on to Athabasca Falls, some 24km from our start point of the Resort.

Pulling into Athabasca Falls, we dismount and explore. There are quite a few ob posts and the Falls themselves are impressive and craggy with some interesting water-carved features: pics below.





We are now getting off the Icefield Parkway and moving onto the older, less car-populated Hwy 93A which follows the Athabasca River in the general direction of Jasper. The road isn't the smoothest - in some places it's a bone rattler and a little concentration picking one's way through potholes, ridges etc is required. But we all take turns up front, leading the cruisy pace and pointing out the larger rifts in the road, and the journey is very, very pleasant.

For the next 19.5 km, we cruise along, chatting and observing. The road is practically devoid of cars which is great. Brandon in the van is only one of a handful that come up from behind, ringing the bike bell as has been done all tour, a gesture I've come to really enjoy for the care it implies and the camaraderie it signifies.

The Athabasca River snakes its way on our right beside the road for large portions - at this point it is a wide, shallow, and real 'bear' country style river. On the left, the forest periodically breaks out into 'moose' ponds (I have no idea why I call them this except they look just like what a moose would appreciate in a pond) - large open shallow waters surrounded by rushes and other low plants, basking in the morning sun. The charmingly named Leach Lake passes - not sure whether it's so named because it's filled with blood sucking creatures, but I don't intend to dip a leg in to find out!

Idling along, we enjoy the time and the views. Soon we encounter the familiar silver van up ahead parked beside the road: Brandon is getting sick of driving, and wants a ride. He has chosen for this the road to Mt Edith Cavel - notice the Mount bit! - and he wants our sorry arses with him! Well, by our sorry arses I mean mine, as David, and Jabe are perfectly capable of scaling near vertical cliffs, and this little uphill won't tax them in the least.

I um and ah and then with a quick "I'm off", decide. Brandon queries my intent - "Off to Jasper?" and I say, "No, off up the hill!"

So, off we go. From Brandon's casual description, I know it's gonna hurt me more than a little but what the hell, I've actually come to enjoy the sensation and the resulting sense of accomplishment. Soon, the three of them pull away from me (but not too quickly) up the potholed, bumpy, narrowish road and I'm left to my own devices, ambling up the initial switchbacks, which are tight.

I get a rhythm going - I'm getting quite good at alternating in and out of the saddle and whilst I'm working hard, I'm not into the red: I'm hovering around the 13-14km/h mark up hills which are in some sections as steep as the initial part of the killer Alisa sent me up at the Prince of Wales (will I EVER forget that? - of course not girl!) so I'm doing pretty well for me. The others aren't pulling away from me hugely, I see them ahead from time to time on the longer stretches; maybe 300-400 meters after 5 or 6 kms. As we ascend, the road gets less twisty and less steep - good stuff. I'm enjoying this slog!

The occasional car passes but causes no problems - throughout this tour, cars have almost always been courteous, slowing down and waiting until it is clear to pass etc. I can recall only two occasions where a car got a bit close, or honked a horn. On another day on this blog, I'll record my thoughts about my home-town Perth drivers: this tour confirmed my suspicions that normally friendly, laid back people turn into rabid dickheads when seated in motor vehicles over here!

After what I'm guessing is about 8km, I round a bend to find the boys off the bikes and checking the view at a pullout. I stop (naturally!) and take in the view - the Athabasca river at this point runs through a narrow valley, the slopes of which have some spectacular sand slides on them. Here's the pics:




After a quick break, it's upwards again. As per the usual pattern the others pull ahead, although David stays for a short while, a nice gesture which I appreciate. But my plodding pace is a couple of km/h too slow for him so soon he's off in pursuit.

Another 2-3kms on it does become a pursuit - I round a bend to find the rest of them coming down! Well, bugger that - I am the King of Downhill (at least in my tiny mind!). Executing a u-turn, I'm off after their scalps.

There's definitely a competitive edge in all this group: friendly but definitely a big-boy casual rivalry. And I'm as bad as the rest of them on that score. Given that I'm continuously getting my arse handed to me by all these characters uphill, I figure it's my turn to show them the back of a bike!

Coming up on Jabe, I wait for a nicer bit of road to pass. Going up this road at a much slower speed, it seemed a little bumpy but OK. Going down is an entirely different proposition - little bumps become launching pads at speed, and the smallish but numerous potholes become chasms which jar your teeth through your head and attempt to fit your seat somewhere the sun doesn't shine! So an active scanning of the road is required, and forget pointing out road 'issues' to those trailing.

On a particularly bumpy part of road at speed, Jabe's bike jettisons a water bottle and it bounces up and hits my headstock. No problems, but I shout to Jabe that he's lost it. He slows to retrieve it - hey cool, one down and two to go! Next in my sights is Brandon and things are working out really well - his seat bag is loose and flopping around under his seat and this slows him. Hehe - two down! I line David up, and lo and behold, another loose seat bag (which he's had before on the tour). I point this out, but he's not taking the bait. Still, it slows him enough that I scramble past.

Having got past, I have to stay past! Coming up to the switchbacks we climbed earlier this will be difficult: my significantly greater weight means I must brake with some sensitivity, and earlier. So I stay ahead by the simple expediency of crowding the road in the turns and then pushing it on the short straights between the almost 180 degree bends. Ha - it works! It likely pisses off David right behind me but it works. Arriving at the bottom of the bone-jarring road, my arms feeling like they've been compressed by about 3 or 4 centimeters, I win! Win what I have no idea, but who cares! A nice little 20-odd km detour is over. (Note: I'm pretty sure the others didn't even know they were in a race - but that doesn't count!).

Brandon is leaning down inspecting his front wheel - he strums his finger across a spoke which is so loose, it sounds like the low E on a bass guitar! The jarring ride downhill has uncompressed his wheel in spots so much that the spoke has rotated to total slackness. I offer up my spoke tool - it helps as he soon declares he's off back up Hwy 93A from where we'd earlier arrived to find other members of the tour.

We are within about 14k of Jasper now and David, Jabe and I roll along the now general downhills of Hwy 93A toward it. The road is good, as is the feeling.

Around and over the top of a sweepy slightly uphill curve, a final long and nicely steep downhill shows itself. The killer instinct rises - I'm at the back and I'm gonna get down this first AND crack 80km/h as well! So, down to 53/12 and pedal with all I've got - I edge past first David and then Jabe. The road flows before me and I'm now scooted down in the seat but keeping my hands on the hoods for stability sake. Up to high 70's and a slow curving bend appears. Stuff it, I'm not slacking off and keep pedaling! Rounding the corner and down the long straight the magic figures appear on my computer - 82 km/h! Woo-hoo! We keep speed down the hill until the sign for Hwy 93 informs us we need to stop for the Icefield Parkway dead ahead.

The final kms into Jasper roll by. I know the riding is soon to be over but I'm happy - really happy.

The last little section into Jasper is an uphill curving to the right. I chuckle to myself as Jabe and David do a final little 'man-dance' race to the top - they can have that one to themselves! Jabe keeps going down the main road - his car has been driven up to Jasper by friends and he's off to find it.

David and I vaguely follow directions to Centennial Park, our tour gathering-spot, meeting a walking Mark and Stuart on the way who shout us directions which we for some reason ignore! We do a little tour around some back streets of Jasper before we find the park. Jabe bikes up a few seconds later - he's not sure of the location of the car and will wait for Julie.

He and I decide to go into town for a look, and gently ride off, trundling around the nice streets of the very pretty town and visiting two shops we find. On this final day, I've worn my Canadian cycle shirt and I'm wondering if I'm in Canada: people are looking at me as if I'm an alien. Perhaps one only wears non-patriotic gear around here, or the local Jasper variant of the shirt? There's not a lot on offer for Jabe - as one store guy explains, it's "like, snowboarding season coming up dude". I do a surreptitious double-take: more surfer-ese! hehe!

Back at the park, and people are arriving as Doug gets to work on the portable barbie knocking up some delicious smelling meat pieces - my stomach growls in anticipation.

Knowing it's no more bike riding, I retrieve my clothes bag and dress in jeans, shirt and warm jacket: it's not cold, but cooling down after the road makes it seem a little chilly.

With ppl seated all around, the typical yummy lunch comes and goes, followed by a presentation by Brandon, Doug and Alisa in which our Tour completion certificates are given out. Along with this, some cute little badges for the Polar Bear club! There are three levels of club membership, and I surprisingly receive full accreditation, even tho' I only Polared 3 times. I am sure that I received this generous award because of my participation in the Lake Louise escapade, where Doug and I courageously braved all that the lake could throw at us - twice! I salute you brother Doug and next time, if I'm lucky to do the trip with you again, we will conquer whatever the frigid waters will throw at us each day.

I will do this trip again - that's a definite!

Jabe says some words about the dedication and wonderfulness of the guides, words which we all appreciate and echo, and then I wander around taking final pics of everyone: *sniff*. Here is a fabulous pic of Alisa, Brandon and Doug (Doug again doing some weird nipple oriented thing!):



My little buddy Jacob and I wander into town, once again on my quest to find money! Over the tour, I've come to appreciate him and enjoy his company greatly. Wow!, there's no way I'd have predicted that - my normal view of teenagers is they should be locked in a cupboard and only let out when they are 21! I'm gonna miss the little dude! Remember Jacob my mate, next time you're in a Canadian cab, "scoot over little dude so cab-dude can like pick up those two hot babes!" :)

I find a teller machine, and amazingly, it takes my card, gives me money, and then even returns said card! This isn't a common occurrence over here believe me!

We amble back to the park where bikes are getting put on trailers and people are finishing off whatever it is they need to. Someone informs me that Jabe and Julie have left in their car already - I feel like I've been sucker-punched! Stupid money chase has deprived me of the chance to say goodbye to two of the nicest and kindest people I've met, and whose company on and off the bike I enjoyed so much during this tour.

I sit on a pile of construction wood close to the van, a bit dazed and feeling really far off. A little shout raises my head - it's Julie running up to give me a big hug! She and Jabe have come back to say goodbye to some of us they'd missed. We hug and I have tears in my eyes. Then she's off to give Jacob a hug and I run over to the car to shake Jabe's hand and thank him for all the great rides and times with him. That one small gesture of theirs says more about them as people than I ever could.

Then they're off for good this time - we wave and shout goodbyes and their car disappears. I'm breezing around now - phew! - and we all pile into the vans for the trip back to Calgary and the airport where nearly everyone will be heading off from early next morning.

Well, we are sort-of off - we do laps of Jasper as we try and locate Alisa, who has gone into town to buy coffee for the guides at what I assume is a favoured shop of theirs? She's been swallowed up by the streets, but a few mobile phone calls later she's located at the coffee shop she'd walked to, from, and then back to!

So, the long (6 hr) van ride back to Calgary commences. As rides go it was OK but I don't recall a lot. I was replaying a lot of the tour in my head at this stage.

We stop at a pub in Canmore for dinner - apparently it has this traditional Canadian dish called poutines: here's the Wikipedia entry explaining them.

Wikipedia 'Poutine'

For those who don't follow the link it's "a dish consisting of French fries topped with fresh cheese curds and covered with hot gravy (usually brown gravy)".

Sorry to diss all Canada, but no thanks! (And all the members of my tour wondered at my liking for vegemite???)

Anyway, dinner turns into a three-ringed circus: we can't be served in the main area as Jacob is under 18 and there is some local law about serving alcohol in the presence of minors, the bar is packed and anything ordered will take about an hour, the waitress has the memory of a... well, I'll be charitable, but a beer for me is beyond her, and the setting up of some tables for us in an area where we can be served takes an eternity.

Still, we are eventually seated, we eventually eat, and I spend a nice time chatting with Bonnie and Bill, which reinforces my appreciation for them.

That over, it's back in the van and onto Calgary. As we approach the outskirts of this city, we can see it is large and sprawling: very large indeed! After what seems like hours (and a 30 minute crawl along a jammed freeway which signs say has been the subject of a rock fall, but when we finally clear the obstruction turns out to be a road gang cleaning something and taking up 3 lanes of a four lane freeway!!!!) we arrive at the Delta Calgary, our final destination. It has a pool in the lower foyer but big deal - I'm sad. As we gather, we check in and then say final goodbyes: all except myself, Danette, James and the guides are flying out from the airport right here.

I suck at this and mumble stuff to various ppl - I should've practiced! To all tour members who may read this, if I missed anyone or seemed offhand I apologise: I'm just crappy at this stuff!

I help Steve and Amy to their room with some bags - I sadly say goodbye to them and Jacob, and then it's off to my room. It's nice - but who cares? My thoughts are all over the place: one part sadness, one part satisfaction, and two parts sense of achievement! What a trip: Canadian Gulf Islands and Glacier, Banff, Jasper in one hit!

Day 9: in which we van back to Whitefish Montana, I get to ride and chat with Alisa and see the countryside, I have a nice meal at the Grouse Mountain Lodge, Doug surprises me with a huge act of generosity, and I pack away my trusty bike for the trip home from Canada.

Part 2: Cycling Glacier, Banff, Jasper - Day 7.

Day 7 of the tour, and Jacob and I are dawdling today (likely my fault as the movie I insisted on watching didn't finish 'til 12:00am!).

Over in the Resort eatery, other tour members have long gone and I 'grab and run' various foods - I still need to pack my stuff and get organised. I leave Jacob tending to his stomach and I tend to my stuff.

Completing the usual process of 'stuff the van' - we bring stuff and the guides stuff it - we check bikes out and then are off in dribs and drabs. It's chilly out and somewhat overcast so I'm rugged up in long leggings, an undershirt, long-sleeved winter top covered by a lighter cycling top, and my warm but eye-searingly bright yellow long-fingered gloves (the idea is to look fast, rather than be fast). I actually dress like this the majority of mornings over here - whilst the temperatures we experience most mornings of the tour are comparable to Perth's mild winter ones on the scale, it seems to me to be a different kind of temperature: the chill seems to penetrate more bitingly. By the time lunch rolls around I am thoroughly warmed up and can discard some layers. Ppl have commented on my overheating potential, but I never do - I just discard what is no longer required at lunch. Today I am to be glad I rugged up - later at lunch we stand on a Glacier and the chill I find intense.

Just before we go I grab a pic of the van in the parking lot - it disappears into the bowels of my camera lens and is never seen again. I know I took it coz I spent a while composing it to get the van, resort sign, and most of our members in shot, all from a funny angle that comprised me lying contorted on the ground. Also, it was there in the viewfinder post-shot in all its glory! Meh!

David, Jabe and I end up tootling along together for a while. The roads are barely rolling at this stage so they cannot shame me with their prowess (and my lack of it) up rises - in fact I go so far as to say I am OK on flats and amongst the kings of downhills, thanks chiefly to my 'racing weight': 92 kilograms and downhills are a fun combo.

At about 30km into this mornings ride we are to ascend Sunwapta Pass, which according to my only-now-consulted guide notes, rises 580 meters over a distance of some 14km - a very reasonable 4% grade average: simple! Closer inspection of said notes doesn't reveal that there is a rather longish 'rise' of about 8km which contributes the bulk of this altitude gain: more like a 7.25% average gradient over this distance. Hmm, more interesting!

Luckily, I hadn't inspected my guide notes this morning (as per usual) so was blissfully unaware of what lay ahead. Jabe and I continued to bowl along (I think David had gone back to ride with Emily and Bonnie - clearly he knew what was in store) at a good clip up slightly rising terrain. At one stage I happened to glance up and see a rather large mountain ahead of us, but the road didn't appear to go in that direction - it continued to follow a wide river pan to our left. Some rising terrain ahead took my concentration and slowed me a little - Jabe moved ahead at this point.

Rounding a curve nearer the foot of the mountain that turned away from it, I again glanced up: the curve ran away from the steep cliff and then did a complete 180 and carved up in one straight line along its face! OK, take a breath, steel yourself and hello grind! Jabe had rounded the re-curve and was heading up the slope so I wouldn't see him until after the top - it was just me, my bike and this incline. Later, on the day after the tour, on which I rode back in the van with Alisa to the tour originating point, we came to the crest of this mountain from the other side and were greeted with a sweeping view of everything below: WAY below! It impressed me that we all got over this!

The nature of the initial incline was not one I appreciated - up to a point it slowly increased in pitch as one progressed and then varied (which makes it difficult to get a rhythm). Some points felt very steep. With nowhere to go gearwise - 39 by 23! - I decided to have a system: 500 meters out of the saddle to gain some momentum (ha!) and 500 meters in the saddle to 'rest'. My forward progress slowed to just under 11km/h, which, with my modest climbing ability and the gearing I had, was pretty much as slow as I could go and still manage to get the pedals over the top point of their motion and hence keep progressing. One complete pedal revolution (top to top) at that gearing equals a little over 3 meters of on-road distance - ridiculously easy on a flat but very grinding here.

2 km into the ride and I was in the red - time for a re-think. I decided to keep seated and just push the pedals thru' the floor. At this stage, I looked up and spied a bike ahead. I knew it couldn't be Jabe but it gave me something to chase. Closing in on it, I saw onboard a rider from another group who had been at the same resort the previous night. I'd greeted several of them last night and had got what I thought was a fairly snooty reaction. Turns out that (maybe) they were doctors and surgeons etc with ultra expensive equipment - ahah, just the stereotype (whether true or not) I needed to get me a little pissed and motivated! With a move which likely says far more about me, I sped up as best I could, put on my best 'this is piss easy' look, and swept past with a breezy "Hi!", leaving the clearly suffering guy in my wake. Hardly charming behaviour but hey, this was raw survival instincts. Ahead lay another 'victim' and then another!

Seeing all these potential smackdowns put a fire under my arse and I started burning up the climb, determined to catch and pass as many as I could. With cheery shouts of "Morning", "Nice day", "Great climb hey?", I rode by them (I even started getting out of my saddle as I passed to demonstrate the ease of my ascent) - what a bastard I was! Reaching a well appreciated false-flat, I knew the climb wasn't fully over but was into it now. The final part of the climb (about 2km) came and went - the fact that there was no-one else to pass was irrelevant now: I was fired up. In the distance I saw Jabe and vowed to catch him as the road was now a slight decline, and did so (he was loitering on the road) just as we reached the lunchtime turn off into the Icefield Center parking lot. Made it!

Jabe and I were first in, right behind Brandon and the van: rest time. Jabe as usual decided to turn around and find Julie so off he went for a descent and then a re-climb! I spent a few minutes gathering my thoughts and breath and then started surveying the scene across the road. Rather than describe it, I'll let the pics speak for themselves:

Stuttfield Glacier


Athabasca Glacier


Snow Dome


It was amazingly, staggeringly spectacular: no crappy photos could ever do it justice. Just go see it because sometime (a time which seems not far away) it will likely be gone.

I say this because at this point, I turned to Brandon and we had a chat about the eye-popping beauty of the place, and in passing, he pointed at a small cairn with an attached plaque nearby and said something I didn't quite catch. I moved over to the cairn: I read that at this very spot in 1850, the tip of Athabasca Glacier reached to here. Back then, if I'd been standing 20 feet further into what is now the carpark, I would have been buried in a river of ice.

Look at the photos - see the distance to the glacier: you figure out how far it's receded in that time. These little cairns depicting its recession as of various years are lined up funeral-procession-like all the way to the current foot of the glacier: the increase in speed of recession is there for all to see.

Don't give me arguments about the uncertainty of the anthropogenic influence on current warming climate conditions: policy makers and everyone get your arses up here and see this. It's a knee-collapsing, gut-shot, drop-to-the-floor heart and mind wrench. Do what you can people - ride bikes, drive less, use energy saver bulbs, turn off standby appliances, investigate solar heating and alternative power generation technologies: whilst everyone can appear hypocritical, because we all could do vastly more (absolutely myself included), we need to start it somewhere with ourselves first. It's already too late for this piece of rock and ice, but maybe other places most of us will never see can be preserved. The fact that they are there unseen is a reward enough.

To lighten the mood a little, Brandon informs me he has to move the van from its current spot - apparently we are parked on top of the Icefield Center's septic tanks and they are due to be pumped out! Eeeeewww - and lunch just about to start. Well stuff that! A bunch of us decide to walk over to the foot of the Athabasca Glacier and check it out.

Trundling off, we make our way across the road and up the trail to the foot of the glacier. Storyboards along the way depict in word and illustrations the dangers of walking on crevasse filled glaciers, the what I think are rather comical paintings of ppl jammed into crevasses freezing their arses off and perishing en masse getting me chuckling! The warnings get even less meaningful when you reach the glacier and all that presents a barrier between yourself and progress up the ice itself is a bunch of orange road cones in a pitiful semi-circle, the top of which has been scattered as hordes of intrepid explorers risk life and limb to smash thru' them on their way onwards and upwards. OK, I'm sure there is a danger no matter how slight, but at least back it up via authoritative barriers if you're that worried!

Taking a few seconds to survey the scene - I see no ppl plummeting to imminent death - we advance out onto the ice. At first it is fairly grubby and muddy with the detritus walkers have hauled up from the trail, but as we respectfully ascend (eyes out for crevasses altho' we have no idea what an as yet still covered one even looks like) the ice cleans up, and we are slowly walking onto white, crunchy ice along rivulets of water and amongst small ridges and dips. The ice has a pockmarked appearance - lots of tiny little sharp points and valleys, and in patches it is clear, and blue. You can hear water trickling and running - most of it is visible on the surface but in places it can be heard coming from beneath the crust: I stay away from walking on those spots. We wander round enjoying the views and the sensation of walking on this frozen terrain: it's a bit like moving around on some giant percolating creature and I'm struck by how long it's been here on this earth and how short a time I have.

We soon reach a point of limit, at least a mental one: whilst nothing is said, progress forward stops and we wander around an unmarked demarcation line, soaking in the view and sensations. I want to progress more - it's not a safety issue in my mind - but I don't because it would seem a bit - disrespectful? "Pay homage, but don't walk all over me" the glacier seems to say.

We gather for group photos: ppl kindly take cameras and share the duties. Here's the one from my camera, graciously taken by Jabe (the lower photo, complete with bloody camera strap!, records this).




Look closely at the first picture - you will observe something which, at first glance, passes you by, but when you really SEE, fills you with wonder and affirms we are not alone in this universe.

There is a 'visitor' in the picture (far left) - his name is Jeffrey. This is the same Jeffrey who survived a plummet to earth off his bike at ferocious speeds and who I later chatted to and came away with the sense that he was something special. He is special - he is an ALIEN!

How else does one explain the fact that he is standing on a glacier (consisting predominantly of ice), which is being swept by a wind of not inconsiderable velocity and thus rendering the immediate atmosphere in technical terms 'frigid', wearing nothing more than a singlet, shorts, sandals, a short haircut, and an enormous grin? Look at the rest of us - our poses clearly indicate we are just short of expiring from the cold. YOU CANNOT EXPLAIN IT BY ANY OTHER MEANS - he is plainly and simply a visitor from another galaxy.

It is my theory that he is from an advanced race who have perfected the ability to manipulate the micro environment around their body, achieving a state of constancy conducive to their wellbeing: he does this by somehow tapping the as yet unknown-to-us powers of tie-dye. My proof - I saw him in nothing other than this tie-dye 'singlet' (in reality the medium whereby his race taps into vast, fundamental unknown forces of the universe) during the entire time he was on tour!

The evidence is irrefutable. Luckily I treated him with nothing less than deep respect throughout the tour (especially after this awesome demonstration of his species' control over climate) and I believe an interstellar ship will be coming soon, delivering to me a similar garment, and the detailed instructions on how to harness its deep and universal powers.

Ok, I exaggerate a little? But it was hilarious to me - sort of like I imagine 'Close Encounters on Ice' would be!

In all seriousness, there IS something about Jeffrey - I predict greatness! (remember this when you are a millionaire dude and slip a few dollars my way!)

Trudging back to the lunch area, I approach the van with trepidation: has the septic tank been pumped yet? Yes it has, and no toxic gases or foul smells spoil the atmosphere. Lunch having been dispatched, it's on the bikes for a promised mecca of downhill riding - yeah!

Setting off on my own (the others try and catch my draft going downhill!) and expectations high, I proceed downhill at a nice clip and several kms roll by - until the sight of another hill! Huh? Wasn't the rest of the 49km meant to be all downhill, well at least a decent portion of it? 800m of uphill later, during which Jabe again passes me, the true long downhill starts and it's away. Jabe is in front and I back off for a while. On serious downhills, each rider is pretty much in their own environment: you don't like to think about it, but if something happens then a bit of distance is prudent.

Streaming downhill, I reach speeds of high 70km/h along the flowing, slow curved road. Scooted back on the seat for stability, my bike is carving up the corners and swallowing the straights. I occasionally pedal in my 53/12 high gear but it's not all that necessary and my greater weight means I creep too close to Jabe if I do. I start to think about cracking the 80km/h mark. Because it's a bit winding and some of the roads are slightly blind around corners (and mainly because I'm a big chicken!) my preservation instinct holds me back.

But then 'round a sharpish bend, a glorious sight - a very long, nicely declining straight! OK, a quick pedal up to high-60's and then hands down to the drops and tuck down for the ride! Arriving at the high 70's and coming up on Jabe, my bike gets a little squirmy and then a little more squirmy, and then a LOT squirmy! Eeekkkk - hands back up on the hoods, and get a bit of body into the airstream to slow myself down. Everything comes back together nicely - it seems pretty clear that it's getting into the drops which is the issue, possibly an aero thing. Unfortunately there is no more time to test this as this straight signals the return to more undulating road: whilst the ongoing journey to our destination of Sunwapta Resort involves a loss of altitude, it's not all that great from here and it's a roller-coaster of a ride from now on.

Here I think Jabe turned back, I'm not sure as after a while I was on my own. But not matter - it was warm and still and I was chugging along quite well. Then I hear a voice behind me - it's Doug in cruise missile mode coming alongside from behind. We exchange greetings and he comments that we haven't had a chance to ride together all tour: I interpret that as 'get a move on sucker'! So, it's time for a man-dance! I go up a cog and settle in for a stint up front and the train gets rolling. I'm pushing pretty hard as I don't want Doug to think of me as a wimp, and the pace is high. The rolling hills which I'd normally slow down considerably on I try and attack, and manage marginally well. Distance whizzes beneath the wheels and I'm up front for quite a while. Doug then comes by and indicates he'd better take a turn, and it's my turn to be impressed.

Doug isn't an overly large guy, fairly lean and toned rather than big-muscled, but on the bike he powers like a train, maybe TWO trains. And so I hop on the 'Doug-train'. Whilst our general flat road pace doesn't increase (I suspect he knows that's about it for me) our pace up the rises does, mainly because rises are pretty much taken by Doug at the same pace as flats! He doesn't crush hills like Mark - it's more just a glide over them, an occasional shift down a gear to keep the cadence up. I learn more about correct gear technique riding behind Doug on this one section than in all my riding to this point. And because the speed is kept up ascending these rises, I am actually getting towed up them - the aero advantage is enough that I can feel the assistance.

So, now a strategy has been worked out (mainly due to Doug's astuteness) - it's us sharing the flats, me leading mostly downhill, and Doug providing the tow uphill. We steam along (well at least my definition of steaming - I suspect Doug is just out on a Sunday ride). At one point Doug reminds me that I can drink - I'd forgotten about anything but the road: white line fever! That done, we steam on. Seemingly out of nowhere, a turn off appears on the road ahead - it's the Resort! Wow - that was fast. Thanks to Doug's assistance and encouragement, I've motored faster just now than ever before.

Doug turns around to check on his flock, ever the guide. This is a characteristic of all our guides Doug, Brandon and Alisa - whilst they clearly enjoy what they do, they are singularly professional at all times.

I sit around for a while enjoying the feeling of the ride and slowing down after the rush. The luggage van had arrived just before us and I pilfered a beer and then went off to sit near the road. After a quick scull of the bottle, I decided to pedal the 500 meters down the road alongside the resort to Sunwapta Falls for a sticky-beak. The falls are excellent, more of the narrow but deep gorge style - some piccies below:




Pedalling back, I meet a few group members who've just arrived - I tell them about the Falls and off they go.

I grab another beer and walk my bike back to the night's cabin. Jacob is inside watching TV - as old re-runs of Law and Order aren't showing, I sit on the porch and down the beer, then return and we watch a truly crappy local station. It's reassuring that TV is as shit over here as back home! After a shower, I hang my washed cycle gear (you throw it in the shower with you and stamp on it!) all over the porch - hopefully bears don't have a desire to wear lycra!. Back to watching TV, and Jacob and I conduct a running commentary deriding every aspect of the station, including howls of laughter, and howls of wolves and dogs. Emily later remarks that "you guys sure were making a lot of noise!".

Later that night we partake of a lovely barbeque (hmmm, steak!), fight over some leftovers, and then a game warden chats to us informatively about native wildlife. During this, Stuart volunteers as a prop and slowly acquires the look of a brown bear as he progressively dons various parts of the guise handed out by the warden. Actually he looks more like a hobo badly dressed liked a bear, but it's not his fault - his sense of cycle fashion had become legendary on tour: one day he donned a zebra-striped ensemble that was so good that he would've been immediately downed and devoured by a pack of lions if he was wandering on the plains of Africa. Hail clothes-bitch!

The night over, we wander back to our rooms and sleep. No TV as I'm pretty tired, a fact confirmed when I probably fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

Tomorrow, Day 8, and our last time together as an entire group, ride or otherwise. Highlights include me getting pissed off over this fact and chucking an on-bike spazz; visiting Athabasca Falls; Jabe, David and I join up and ride one final time; Brandon joins in on the old Hwy 93 and we take a detour up Mt Edith Cavel for one last grindy climb and a bone-rattler of a descent; one last smooth descent into Jasper on which I pass Jabe and David, and 80km/h; one last ascent into Jasper on which Jabe and David pass me and race each other to the top, and lunch and farewell to the bikes and two lovely people.