Day 22

6/13/09: Segment 17-18; Wilcox Creek Campground, Alberta to Jasper, Alberta; 65 miles

First, check out the photos page. Jerry has just put up my first batch of pics from BC. Second, we’ll get a day and get caught up on blog photos. They’re coming soon.

Ok, so you heard Ryan’s version of yesterday. And I last left you sitting at the picnic table waiting for him. Well, I put the computer away, got on my bike, and began a little recon mission. I road down to the Parkway, down through a gazillion camping roads to get to the bottom. Took a right and rode down to the next, unmarked Campground. I rode in and did like three loops of the place, kind of feeling like a voyeur as I was scrutinizing each and every campsite, looking for Ryan, either with his tent up, or just crashing on a picnic table or something. Anyway, I’m sure everyone was happy when I pulled out to end the “camp peeping Tom” gig I had going.

         So then I rode back to my campground, and then up, south, on the parkway, riding up to the Welcome to Jasper sign. Still….nothing. So by this time it’s nearly 11:00pm, and about dark (we’re up north so it’s a very long day with 5 am sunrise, darned near 10:30 sunset). I ride back up to my site and sit on the picnic table, kind of thinking worst case scenarios……..car-bike accident was primary in my mind. Then there was a crash on a descent, mechanical difficulties………you name it, I thought it. Finally packed it in at about 12 midnight, and had a very unsettling night of on and off sleep.

         Woke up, quickly packed, and rode straight to the Icefield Pass Visitor’s Center. I got there before anything was open…anything that is except for the restaurant upstairs. So I decided to get a bite to eat – I was famished having only had 3 cans of cold soup last night. Went up there, looked at the menu and damned near flipped. Talk about gouging: 10 bucks for a fried egg, 13 bucks with a couple of pieces of bacon or sausage. I’ll starve before I pay that for a freaking egg. And I said that out loud, very loud!

         So I just went out on this magnificent porch area, right at the foot of the glacier, part of the giant Columbia Icefield. The sight was otherworldly, and I snapped a few shots, but I was still plagued by the uncertainty of the situation, and just couldn’t take in the beauty for pure enjoyment. And the thing that kept going through my head was: what on earth would I tell Ryan’s parents if something horrible had happened.

         The park information center finally opened at 9 am. So I go over and explain to Jessica the situation. She took down all of the info, and began to walkie talkie the park personnel, querying folks for a Ryan sighting. She called other campgrounds, hostels, hotels. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. She then called the main office in Banff, and I talked with the information officer, Lisa. Again, I gave a timeline, places, names, types of bike and trailer. You name it, I told her. Lisa wanted me to stay put at the Visitor’s Center, and I know that that was a good call. I couldn’t very well just blast off to Jasper in the lurch about this.

         So I go outside to sit in the sun and soak in the awesome sights of the Icefields. Then Jessica comes out and says they have a sighting, but it just doesn’t make sense. She’s been told that Ryan was sighted riding just between the first pass and Saskatchewan Crossing, the place where he and I last saw each other for a rest stop. Now he’d have had to ride back south, towards Lake Louise to be doing that, and So Cal or not, I just couldn’t believe that he road back the same way he came yesterday. I go in, and talk to Lisa on a dial up phone, and she confirms this crazyness. She told me to sit tight and they’ll get someone out there with a walkie talkie to put us on the air together. So I sit.

         An hour goes by, and nothing. Go back in and Jessica calls Lisa again. This time they tell me the Ryan lookalike is not on the road anymore, and they’ve had everyone in the double park system looking………and he was not to be found anywhere between Lake Louise and Jasper. So I continue to wait as they do more checking, and by now it’s 11:30am. So Jessica comes up to me and says, “maybe he broke down and got a ride to Jasper, what do you think about that possibility?” What the hay, I asked if they had an internet available for the park. She did and took me to an old, slower than a glue horse IBM. I wanted to check my email just to see if Ryan may have sent me an email.

         Well, after about 15 min, and I’m not joking, I finally got on my AOL account. Another 5 min to pull up my mail………..and there it was, “Dude bike broke so I got a ride to Jasper, see you at 6:30pm today.” So the Ryan disappearance was solved. And I was pretty relieved to say the least. So by now it was noon, and the day was getting pretty hot. I thanked Jessica for all her help, and her great hunch, and shoved off for the 64 mile ride to Jasper.

         This is supposed to be a fast ride, all 60-some miles are down, with a net loss of 3000 feet. The park guys were telling me, “downhill all the way. You’ll do it in 3 hours.” Somehow I just didn’t believe that it was that easy.

         So I get going, and it’s crazy fast, like I’m doing 23 mph, and doing the math in my head, making these wild finish times…….until I hit the first hell……er hill. Then reality sets me back down on the ground as I shift to the middle ring, and then the little ring, and then I go out of the saddle in the little ring, and then I’m sucking air. “All downhill my ass!” You know what all downhill is to me? It’s Hudson to Penninsula, it’s Snowville Road, it’s anything that goes ALL DOWNHILL. So from there on I knew that it’s not all downhill.

         “Forget about it,” I though, “this is a spectacular piece of riding, so just get into the scenery and it is what it is.” Now throw in a wicked headwind, and I had to keep going back to that mantra: this is a spectacular piece of riding, over and over. Anyone else would give their left you know what to be on this stretch of road no matter what the topography or weather. So that’s was my tact. And just about then the parkway began to hug the east side of the mighty Athabasca River, a beautiful sky blue in color, the result of all the glacial silt it was carrying down the valley. I watched it get bigger and bigger as I ticked off the miles north.

         And I’d get it rolling for a bit, and then hit a little plateau, or a downright long climb, and slow down to a trickle, only to hit another long downhill stretch to get it moving again. Repeat this over and over, as the parkway stairstepped it’s way down to Jasper, all along the Athabasca. Again, another stellar, cotton ball clouds in the blue sky day up here. Couldn’t have been better.

         My legs were still very sore from yesterday’s smack down on Sunwapta Pass, so I used the little cookie as much as possible in the climbing portions, and then slammed the big ring on the flats and descents. Three hours in my average was 15 mph. Heck, not bad, much better than I though, but certainly not the 20 mph average the park guys were talking about. And on I go. It’s amazing when you’re doing this kind of riding, I’m talking about the distance stuff, day after day, because you tend to eventually think in terms of blocks of hours, likes 3’s and 4’s and 5’s etc. And time just flies by, and before you know it you’re 3.5 hrs into a 7 hr ride, and you think, “ok, I’m half way there.” Where back home, at three hrs into a ride I’m thinking, “ok peanut butter and jelly or a pizza, and then relax and have a beer.”

         I go by a tourist trap store/gas station/gift shop, and it’s filled with 3-4 tour buses and a ton of tour groups, and I just fly by. As hungry as I was I was not going to wait in a line with 20 people for a coke and candy bar that was going to cost me 7 bucks! Ride on. It’s hot out now, probably around 80-degrees. I know that because I really start to suck down the water bottles when it’s above 75. Below that and I barely touch them, above that and I’m guzzleing. And there’s a sign: 30K to Jasper. And right about then I hit the biggest freaking “downhill” climb of the day. I mean I was creeping up this

Little demon. “Just enjoy the scenery.” Follow that with a wicked slight descent for 8 miles, where I was spinning it up to 24 mph.

         Four hours in and my average was still 15 mph. The Athabasca River is huge by now, with whitewater groups out on the river taking on the rapids, as the river was now a good 100 yards wide, and rushing and rumbling down towards Jasper.

         So I finally get to Whistler campground, where I think Ryan is at. I go in, explain the situation to the park girl, and she says, “oh yes, he has a spot in the walk in area.” So I go in and see the old Hille there in the pine grove. No bike and no Ryan though. So I decide to go into town. It’s crazy hot, I’m dead tired, hungry, need to check my emails, call Judy. I was on the verge of treating us to a hotel again just so I could totally chill out. So I ride into town to hunt for Ryan and look for a cheap motel.

         And there he is, riding back to the campground as I’m heading into Jasper. He explains the situation to me, and I’m like almost in a different world I’m so damned hungry. So I say, “let’s go into town, I may just get a motel and collapse.” We go into town, and immediately I sense that anything here is mucho bucks, and that idea goes out the door. Ok, so let’s eat. Ryan shows my a deli, and I go in and get a coke and a wrap. Gone. Then he pulls out two muffins. Gone. Ok, now more food with internet. And we find a pizza parlor with wifi. I order a large pizza, and drink 6-8 glasses of ice water. We chow on pizza do some emailing and catch up on the blog. And then I order fries and gravy. More net, skype, and more glasses of ice water.

         And now I’m feeling like I’m ready to burst. I mean I have a belly sticking out that looks……..well…….like I’m pregnant! Net a bit more, call Judy, and I’m done.

Mission accomplished. We’ve now cycled through what is probably the hardest part of this trip. And that last pass yesterday was the meanest son of a gun that I can ever remember climbing – with 85 lbs of gear.

         Back at camp now, showered, clean, filled with food, drinking a Molson Canadian, and feeling myself. Well, tomorrow begins a new chapter in our trip – post mountains.

Thanks again for those of you who took to time to send us emails: Greg B, my cousin Sue, Barney and Valerie. Love you guys, and thanks for your support. Until tomorrow……..Pete