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

This was it - Day 2, and the journey along the mythical Going-to-the-Sun Rd, carved out of the very rock by the most manual of techniques over a 12 year period finishing in 1932, and climbing it's way 3840ft to cross the Continental Divide at Logan's Pass. Check out the Wikipedia for more info and links:

Wikipedia Going-to-the-Sun Road Entry

A great factoid is that it is the very road that is featured at the start of the movie 'The Shining'.

Well, climbing it was going to be like a visit to that hell-hotel of the movie! I'd decided prior to the trips not to re-jig the gears on my bike so my lowest set was 39 front and 23 rear. Now I had started to regret it.

Below is a pic of the valley which the rd goes thru before scaling the face of the second mountain in the pic to Logan's Pass (between the two peaks):



We arose early for breakfast at 7:00am - an early rise was necessary as it's a rule that all bicycle traffic be off the road between 11:00am-4:00pm. The early morning briefing emphasised the fact that the road (whilst narrow and having no shoulder, and featuring metal drainage gratings and possible rocks, wet surfaces, debris, massive gaping crevasses and hordes of voracious brown bears) was tough but possible to climb with a huge dose of luck! Actually, the guides were very positive and encouraging, and soon we left Lake McDonald Lodge and started the ride up the gentle slopes toward "The Loop", the switchback where the road ascends back on itself, and the start of the 19.5km 6% gradient final climb in earnest.

The ride up the the initial incline was cold, and with my no-finger gloves my hands soon became frosty. Ditto my toes. Still, with the promise of sunlight ready to appear round the next bend I swept on, altho' never quite catching those elusive rays.

I stopped at the designated point just prior to "The Loop" to a quick cheer from guides at the waiting van (not sure what the hell they were cheering at - that was the easy bit!) At this point is a sign pointing out 'Heaven's Peak', an 8987 ft peak across the valley. Below is a pic of me and the sign (thanks to Amy for snapping it for me), and the peak itself:




Gathering my thoughts, I reflected on the fact that the longest hill I'd ever climbed back home in Perth was probably 1km at 5-6% gradient: not a comforting thought given 19.5km at 6% was coming up. Divesting myself of my backpack (all I was keeping was my camera - I figured if I flatted, then the van would come by eventually) I re-mounted, took a last breath, changed up to my 23 gear at the rear, and was away.

To cut the drama short, the climb was great, fantastic, a true experience. Sure, with the gearing I had, it was a little bit of a grind at a cadence of around 60-65, but the incline was consistent, the road was great, the views were spectacular, and the sense of accomplishment was gratifying. Best of all, I kept going forward! In short, I'd do it over in a flash - no question at all. No one particular thing sold me - it was just the combination of everything that now makes me want to grind it out again.

I recall one incident at about three quarters up - a missile (could it be a bike?) was spearing downhill toward me shouting something unintelligible: as the object passed me it turned out to be Doug at terminal velocity saying something which I interpreted as "yeeee-haaaaawwww". The Doppler Effect generated by his approach and passing turned the oncoming sound into a high-pitched siren which slowly faded to a low-pitched growl as he passed down the hill, flaming scorch marks from his tyres snaking their way down the decline after him. I was reminded of Wile E. Coyote from the roadrunner cartoons, strapped to an oversized 'Acme' brand rocket and sizzling towards his target off screen. Doug had driven the van and trailer around to Logan's Pass from the other side the previous day - oversized vehicles were not allowed on the climb. I wondered out loud to myself what the policy on low-flying missiles was before plodding on.

Arrived at the top at Logan's Pass 19.5km later feeling liberated. In all honesty, I had never felt better mentally, and physically I was great - I really should have gone down for a way and re-done part as some of the group did. If any readers are interested in doing this climb then I urge you to DO IT - it's an experience of a lifetime!

At the peak of the climb, David (a young guy on Tour with his family, a friendly, rock-solid person and great rider who shared with me some wonderful pace-lines around Alberta) took my pic - I hope to get that one off him one day. I hope I look like I felt - exhilarated.

I did end up going down about 800m - on the way up there is an observation area about that distance from the top but I figured I'd get all the pics I wanted from the top at Logan's Pass. Except of course, the Pass is over the crest. So back down it was to take pics - none of which can really do the magnificence justice. Flitting beneath the suspended metal walkway at the ob area was a mountain goat and her kid - couldn't get any pics coz they wouldn't come out! Here's a pic of the view down from where we had come - you can see the Rd carving up the mountain on the right:



Also, the obligatory 'me and sign' pic:



Climbed back up to the van waiting at Logan's Pass and got refreshments with those who had already made it, and talked about the climb, scenery etc with them and those who continued to arrive. Basking in the atmosphere, I then thought about the fun that awaited - a 13.5km downhill to our lunch stop at Sun Point!

Time to blast, and with a little caution initially, I started out on the descent. Finding the roads generally good, and dodgy spots easy to see and avoid, I let the bike and gravity do their thing. Soon it felt like I was flying - passing the tour buses, swooping around bends, hitting mid 70s km/h on the steepest decline: awesome. Going up mountains has its bonuses!

All too soon, the lunchspot turnoff loomed, and it was time to reign it in. Glided into Sun Point up to the waiting van and hung around chatting to Brandon as others arrived. In retrospect, I should've gone back down the Going-to-the-Sun Rd as a few others did - I had the time. But still...

After lunch, it was a 50km jaunt to the night's lodgings, Many Glacier Hotel. Starting off, the road trailed down foothills and onto relatively flat, open, less vegetated terrain. A nice tailwind helped things zip along - rode with Jabe for a nice while (mostly getting towed!) before he turned back to find Julie.

Somewhere on a long stretch of road, an emergency vehicle passed by going back towards Sun Point: I later found out it was an ambulance. Then, at about 1 minute intervals, 4 other vehicles, all ranger cars, went past lights ablaze in the same direction. Must be a fire I thought.

A short while later I came up on Mark and Stuart, two friends doing the trip. Both great value - Stuart a real 'energiser bunny' on the bike, a colourful personality, and with a real joy for the bike and life, and Mark a big, athletic guy with a straightforward and easy-going personality, equally loving his riding, and just the strongest rider I've seen. Tagged along with them with Mark doing the vast majority of the work (he was hard to keep up with even when he was doing the pacing!).

Mark asked me at one stage if I'd seen all the emergency vehicles: I replied yes to which he wondered if it was anything to do with our tour. It never occurred to me and I said I doubted it. Later we found out at the Lodge that another of the group, Jeffrey, David's brother and son of Bill and Bonnie, had had a spill on the downhill section after Logan's Pass, had been knocked out and had been airlifted to hospital as a precautionary measure. All was well - great news - and he re-joined the tour after a few days although his cycling days for this tour were over due to medical orders. I later had a few short chats with Jeffrey and found him to be a really enigmatic and charismatic person: he has that something about him which makes me think he'll do something of importance in his life.

Our little group kept on going and the conditions got a little tougher: more undulations, and a headwind as we slowly turned back towards some foothills and Many Glacier Hotel. Stuart was dropping back a bit, being a slighter guy into a headwind is tough. Also, for the first part of the tour, he persisted in carrying this enormous seatpack which looked like it weighed two tonne! Most likely it had a spare bike in it in case his classic Colnago died! It was big enough. Later on in the tour he ditched the spare bike and just carried a normal load, after which he just steamed.

After a while, Mark started getting away from me - man, he went up hills like they were pimples! He and Jabe were both great climbers on the opposite ends of the scale: Jabe light and lean and soft on the pedals, Mark big and athletic and he just drove over inclines with pure force. After a while, Mark turned around, passed me and went back for Stuart: just an excuse for more miles I think! Those two were great mates. I had a massive case of envy over Mark's bike - it was a beautiful Litespeed (like his riding!).

Continued the into-the-wind grind through the Many Glacier Park entrance and finally arrived at the Hotel after a tough but still fun ride. Checked into the hotel with the promise of a hot shower followed by later drinks and nibbles as a group. Hotel pic here:



The Many Glaciers Hotel is classic lodge-style accommodation, all wood, with rooms in wings constructed around a central building housing the foyer, dining etc. It has a Swiss theme about it - including Swiss flags everywhere, some reference to it in the eateries etc. I believe the Swiss did something to develop the area? Either that or they just liked the flag. Either way, a great place with huge views. Unfortunately, the Many Glaciers Hotel doesn't look over many glaciers - these have shrunk to almost nothing.

After a shower, we all gathered inside a small wing of the hotel and promptly commandeered it for drinks and nibbles. This gathering was meant to be outside in a 'breezeway' but that had inconveniently turned into a 'galeway'. Hint to self - eat first, as one beer latter I was feeling dangerous!

It was then off to the (Swissish?) restaurant, where I was on a table with Stephen, he like me doing the tour by himself. His job involved directing all the TV proceedings in one of the houses of US parliament. After being fascinated by his stories of the workings of the place, all I can say is I admire his staying power: I remember once attending a sitting of the Western Australian State Parliament in the galleries, sitting down and very soon after being told to wake up by a rather peeved parliamentary officer!

So, one nice meal, conversations and goodnights later, it was time for bed. After good-naturedly hassling Jacob about the fact he didn't ride today, and discussing the interesting selling points of the hotel's brochure (it proclaims the rooms don't have insulation or double-glazed windows? - I presume freezing in winter is a bonus for that season's occupants?) I drifted off to sleep after the best and most challenging day of riding in my life. And this only Day 2!

Coming up - Day 3: wherein we see bears in them thar hills, the Canadians recklessly let me into their country, a hill pops up out of nowhere and pops some eyes, a revenge-minded Alisa sends me up a vicious climb to a lake I can't remember, and we stay in a Lodge named after the Prince of Wales (one of the dead ones, not the living one whose mum won't let him be King).

Part 2: Cycling Glacier, Banff, Jasper - Day 1.

Day 1 of the tour started bright and early - VERY bright and early. I'd set my room alarm for 7:00am, time enough for a quick breakfast, final pack and to get the stuff down to the entry for pickup by the tour van at 8:30. Waking to it's buzz, I slid out of bed, dressed ready for cycling, did the pack etc and went down to breakfast. Hmmm - breakfast not open yet: ok, wander out for a walk. The sky was blue but the air was very chilly and it didn't seem to be all that bright. And no people around? Back inside the lodge I plonked down in a lounge in the foyer and took stock. My eyes turned to the clock on the wall - 6:30am? Huh? Turns out my clock in my room was set one hour ahead!

Bleh! - still, breakfast was soon on and dispatched, I'd retrieved my stuff from the room and placed it ready for pickup, and browsing through the multitude of dog-showing books (hmmm, I thought this was a ski lodge?) passed the time.

Hanging around outside, a familiar silver van piled with bikes made its way around the curve of the mountain road toward me - Bicycle Adventures obviously got a good deal on a multitude of these things. Arriving at the entrance, a guide identifying himself as Doug greeted me. After a quick chat, I asked him if he knew Marty (our guide on Tour 1) to which he replied yes. Passing on a message for Marty, I informed Doug he sucked. Doug looked at me and informed me that he didn't know Marty all that well, but Marty did know another guide on this tour, Brandon, very well and he suspected I was meant to tell Brandon he sucked! Bluffing it, I told Doug that he likely sucked anyway, to which he responded with a laugh and a vicious kick to my groin. Well, he did laugh, and from there on in, he and I got on excellently: our Polar Bear Club escapade and his towing me around Alberta for a day will be detailed later. Suffice to say, Doug was a total character and a great guy.

As Doug was sticking my stuff into the van and my bike on top, several people wandered out from Kandahar, two of them wheeling a tandem. They turned out to be Steve and Amy, and their son Jacob, all taking the tour. They'd also stayed the night at the Lodge, but we hadn't seen each other. We made our introductions and they appeared to be well informed about me "the Australian". They asked me where my other head was, to which I replied like all humans I know, Australians only had one! (I jest). I admired their tandem and admired even more the fact they planned to scale mountains with it (which they did, and admirably too).

Piled into the van for the trip to Grouse Mountain Lodge, our official tour start point and the place where the majority of the group were staying. On the way I got the chilling news - Jacob, the teenage son, was to be my roomate. The horror! After my being spoilt on the first tour with my own rooms, the prospect of sharing filled me with dread, and with a teenager what's more! There was no god! As it turned out, Jacob turned out to be a great person, friendly, bright, fun and always eager to tell you you sucked! Steve and Amy were great ppl and excellent parents. I'm sure Amy feared for her son's sanity, being stuck with an Aussie, but I'm sure I put her fears to rest over the tour: I definitely only tweaked his sanity a little!

The entire group coming together at Grouse Mountain Lodge was the usual hectic process of name revealing and forgetting, lots of new faces (it was an 18 person tour), bikes going everywhere, and general mayhem. Alisa, our third and female guide, a real sweety (and a honey - grrrr), must have got asked the same questions about a million times: after witnessing her deal with an oft-repeated one, I cruelly asked it again seconds later just to see the reaction. Her mouth smiled but her eyes glistened with tears of frustration, followed by a flicker of satisfaction as she contemplated revenge further down the track! I also got to meet Brandon and finally was able to tell the correct guide 'you suck!'. Brandon, another great character, appeared unphased - I'm not sure what Marty is in for!

What seemed like eons later, following briefings, ride notes, tour intros etc etc, we were finally liberated and sent on our way for the mornings 34km ride thru' Whitefish central and Northern Montana country to Blankenship Bridge. Once again, I resolved to foresake the handlebar bags and displayed tour notes and rely on my inate powerful sense of direction. At least here it was pretty difficult to get lost - after following a pack of people thru' the winding town route, it was basically one road to the bridge: the only two turns I managed to negotiate in the right direction.

My first tour's cycling was paying dividends: along the rolling roads thru' picturesque and mostly flat farmland and forest I was breezing along, and feeling at one with the bike - a feeling that stayed with me almost the entire trip aside from one diabolical session I will recount later. It was a great day - blue sky, crisp but warming, and perfect for riding. Lovely! I don't recall whom I met/passed on the road very well during this ride - I just remember feeling overwhelmingly glad to be riding right there and right then.

Almost too soon, Blankenship Bridge appeared. Off to its left was our first lunch stop of the tour, a nice little drive-off area overlooking the river. Also, it had a five star toilet - a bonus we would later come to appreciate as most outside conveniences were the classic drop-dunnies: large pits in the ground. The more stars the better, the less look out! Several of these facilities we encountered on tour were real retch inducing!

Arriving before the van, I and several others took the opportunity to wander around taking photos. Jabe, a lean fit looking guy around my age and as I later found out, a superb rider, clambered up to the bridge whilst his partner Julie and I, also an excellent rider and a lovely lady, had a small chat. I later came to really admire and appreciate these two ppl - real gems. I also loved Jabe's bike, a classic older Merlin (which instantly means something to anyone who appreciates bikes).

Then I harnessed my totally lame skills and proceeded to photograph everything around the general area, but in a way which made it look entirely identical and of no intrinsic eyeball value! It's a skill! Below is one of my less inept captures:



I then wandered down over the steepish bank to the water's edge to test out the theory of whether water in rivers originating from snow covered peaks was cold. Strangely enough - it was! However I also found out that no matter how cold, it always felt great on feet liberated from cycle shoes trapped on pedals for hours!

Soon after the van arrived, with food and some unwanted info. One of the group (Ken, a dad touring with his two grown sons Kevin and Scott) had been involved in a bingle, and had done a bit of a face-plant on the road. A short doctors visit and a day later, with some facial scrapes and some dental re-arrangement, Ken hit the tour again and hit the bikes soon after. Wow - whay a guy! He and his sons went on to thoroughly enjoy the rest of the trip, and were a great addition to the party. I was struck particularly at the obvious respect and friendship these three had for each other - a real family group.

Lunch was a replica of those on tour 1; delicious, plentiful and allowing the personal decision of whether to dine on all that is good for you or pig out on masses of 'naughty' food. I'd learned in the first tour that a balance was best, but what I needed to come to realise was that on these tours covering more kms per day, lunch intake shouldn't be excessive i.e. enough to immediately send you into a deep trance.

Post-lunch, we took a trance-deepening van trip to the start of our next ride of the day (the road after the bridge was unpaved for some distance hence the need for vanning). The drive took us back to paved road, and rolling hilly terrain, past blue lakes and dense forests. Which we kept passing. Why the hell weren't we riding these beautiful roads? I was just about to raise this point when all became clear: we stopped, bundled out, and were told we were to ride back along these same roads - excellent! 34kms back to our digs for the night, Lake McDonald Lodge via Agpar on Lake McDonald.

As ppl headed off, I had to answer the call of nature and thus visited the 'Green Door'. Scooting down an embankment to the privacy of bushy cover, I kept scooting and ended up embedded in said bush, in which prickly plants therein proceeded to ravage me. Ow! Luckily this occurred prior to actually 'unpacking'. I deemed privacy to be less of a concern from there on.

The ride back to Agpar was once again a joy - floating above the tarmac at speed and taking in the sites was soothing mentally and physically and the kms flew by. The road dipped and climbed through the forest - nothing too strenuous - and the warm air and sun added to the joy.

Along the way I saw a deer and, even tho' I had seen approximately 5 thousand of them by this stage, I had to stop and take a pic. Carefully stalking nearer down the slight bank I got to within about 3 meters of the unsuspecting creature. The deer was in a conspiracy with nature - as I raised my camera I fell flat on my arse for the second time that day! Hastily rising, I looked around and noted with joy that my drunken-guy fall had gone unnoticed with none of my fellow riders except Jabe in sight, and he'd obviously seen so many deer his visual system merely ignored them and he was looking the other way. Even the deer didn't move a millimeter or even raise it's head! Clearly ppl trying to photograph it fell flat on their arses all the time.

Getting back into the groove, I grooved all the way back to Agpar, our turning-off point, and kept grooving. Missed another turn! It became clear that, at least in this part of Montana and later Canada, road directions didn't generally forewarn you - if a turn sign was there it meant turn then. Back in Australia, drivers are so dumb that we must be told that we will soon be turning, and a pre-turn warning sign warns us about the turn sign coming up. Here you were assumed to be capable.

Arriving at Agpar minutes later (it was a small detour past for me) we slowly congregated as ppl came in from the ride, awaiting final instructions about the last few kms to our place for the night, Lake McDonald Lodge. I took more crappy photos of the lake - well it's just a big lot of water really! Pic below attests to this (Jabe is in there for scale - he is small, it is large):



In the background distance of the pic lurks the land of the Going-to-the-Sun Rd and the pass we must scale tomorrow.

The reason for our congregating became clear - we had to cross a checkpoint into Glacier Park en masse (it costs but it's pre-paid by BA). Having been allowed thru' we continued on the short cycle to Lake McDonald Lodge, dinner, and our rooms for the night.

I don't recall a whole lot about the lodge, but the accommodation was separate little shacks, two units to a shack, lined up and facing, thru' trees, the Lake shore. For some reason it reminded me of the school holiday camp in the episode of the Simpsons, Camp Krusty? Nice enough tho', and there were no occupant riots. After 'squaring things away' (the military theme seems apt) Jacob and I wandered down to the rocky shore of the lake and sat down, me dipping my toes in the somewhat chilly water. Tour guide Brandon soon appeared and talk turned to the Polar Bear Club, the mythical Druid-like ensemble that one could join if one plunged into various bodies of icy water each day (bar one - a rest day) of the tour. So, he and I plunged in. Once in, it was actually very nice - staying close to shore however was preferable as there was a significant temperature gradient which quickly approached frozen at greater depths. Had a nice 15 min swim and then headed back to the cabin for a shower and prep for the evening meal.

Which I am sure was lovely but I don't remember a thing about it! *shrug*. Perhaps the stinging plants I'd encountered earlier had rendered me mindless? And so...

Day 2 approaches: 34kms of the Going-to-the-Sun Rd climb, including 19.5km at 6% gradient, 3840ft of climbing vs my 92kg, plus bike, and a nowhere near low enough gear of 39/23: who will win?

Part 2: Cycling Glacier, Banff, Jasper - Prelude

Part 2 of my Canadian Cycling Tour traverses the Glacier National Park in Montana with its Going-to-the-Sun Road, and the Icefields Parkway, which passes through Banff and Jasper national parks in Alberta, Canada. This tour was also run, immensely professionally, by Bicycle Adventures - the tour description on their website is below:

Bicycle Adventures

As per my previous tour write-up, I will be including a small number of photos in this article, but the main photo album can be found online at:

Glacier, Banff, Jasper Tour Photo Album

After an overnight stay at the Renaissance Hotel at Vancouver International Airport, and a two part flight (Vancouver-Seattle then Seattle-Kalispell, Montana) I arrived at my pre-tour stay - Kandahar Lodge at Big Mountain, Whitefish, Montana, the pick up point for me for the tour.

Big Mountain is a famed ski location in Northern Montana (this I gleened from the multitude of pics on walls around the place celebrating the ski culture and famed skiers) and hence Kandahar is ski-lodge style accommodation. Here's a pic of the external view:



Lovely place with lots of wood and stone, big comfy rooms, multi-levels, and best of all, a magnificent restaurant and in-house bar!

The restaurant - the Kandahar Cafe - is sneakily styled and about the size of your typical cafe, but that's where the similarity ends. This place is a hidden treasure, although not hidden to the locals: when I booked into the Lodge I was told that if I wanted to eat at the cafe I'd have to book as it was 'quite popular'. Book I did, and the earliest I could get in was 9:15pm! Back to the restaurant in a sec.

So, after settling in to my room, doing the bike unpack and setup again, showering and generally cleaning up, I wandered down for a look at the outside of the place and surrounding environs, and then a more detailed snoop around the interior. My snooping revealed a tiny little bar called 'The Snug' which was just that (fits maybe 12 people seated) and I sat down to have a beer and a pleasant chat with the barman, a congenial and friendly fellow. 5 beers later, and feeling even more congenial, I trundled over to the cafe and waited a few minutes for my alloted seat.

Without going into great detail (I'm not a food critic!) I had the best meal in over ten years at this little place. The menu list was select but extremely interesting, the food was gourmet and the wine list was eye-popping: had THE best glass of Pinot Noir ever. And the service was first-class too! A true dining experience. If you are ever anywhere near Whitefish, go to this place: you won't be disappointed.

So, filled by my meal and cruising thanks to me alcohol intake, I investigated the night time views from the grounds of the Lodge. A clear sky revealed a multitude of stars and a dark backdrop of surrounding peaks. A light chill made the air crisp, the promise of a blue-sky day tomorrow. A bunch of squirrels played about the place - clearly they had triumphed over the deer as the abundant fauna in this region! All was quiet and I returned to my room feeling positive about the upcoming tour - after a start like this that couldn't be better!

Next, Day 1 of the tour, wherein I meet Doug, one of our guides, and tell him he sucks (only to find out later it's another guide Brandon whom I'm meant to tell sucks), am introduced to a family on the tour of which the teenage son is my upcoming room-mate (aarrgghhh - teenager!), and the group meets and the tour starts in earnest.