6/21/09: Off Segment; Radisson, Saskatchewan to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan; 45 miles.
You just never know doing something like this. And today…….well, it was the antithesis to yesterday. You see, I had this sneaking suspicion that today would be as it was because the forecast for Lloydminster was for a very wet Sunday and Monday. Now, I’ll have to admit that there was a part of me, that “glass is half full” part of me, that said, “hey, we’re 132 miles from Lloydminster, and that’s their weather, so we’ll be just fine way out here in Saskatchewan. NOPE.
The night in Radisson was restless because we were so close to Rt 16, camping a mere 300 meters from the main interstate. So every large truck, SUV, camper, you name, we heard it. And some of these pups were so loud that it rumbled the tent. The campsite was awesome, it’s the proximity to the freeway that had us fooled. So I think that after logging a massive day like yesterday, coupled with a very bad night of sleep was fuel for a long day.
So I woke up at 5am, and I can feel the wind picking up, blowing the vestibules of the tent with some pretty good force. I peeked out the vestibule and I see this massive layer of grey moving in on our pink sunrise. And it was then that I began to realize that my “glass is half full” part of me was full of sh--! Yep, you could feel the cool front moving in. Now had I been better recovered and not sleep deprived, I’d of rousted Ryan and insisted that we get our arses out of there and beat it fast to Saskatoon. But…….I drifted back off to a half sleep only to wake up at 7am and see the sky completely covered in a massive grey mass, with the wind blowing at 20-25mph out of the north-northwest. It was an ominous feeling kind of knowing that you were about to ride into the eye of the hurricane.
We packed up pretty quickly, ate, and got out onto the road……and God what a difference a day makes. Today, it was all I could do to put it down to a 14mph speed. Right off the bat we were battling a cross wind that was making you really put the lead down into each and every pedal stroke to gain an advantage on the distance to be covered. And then we round a long sweeping corner and there it was, dead east, staring us in the face like the grim reaper – a wall of black. Ryan blurts out, “we’re getting wet today.” And I’m thinking………..”YEA?” So we keep pedaling, struggling to maintain even 13mph, working our way into the eye of the storm.
And I eventually see cars coming going west, coming out of the black hole with windshield wipers still on, and it’s there that I know it’s just a matter of time before we get our initiation to a Great Plains rain storm. Pedal another 10 min and it’s just barely drizzling. Add another 10 min and it’s a steady, but light rain. And then another 10 min and we’re in the middle of a deluge, the kind of rain were it hurts to hold your head up and look straight down the road. It was blinding. And it this point I knew that it was going to be one of the longest 40-mile rides I’d ever do.
The minutes go by like hours, as were pelted to a pulp with these heavy raindrops. Ryan tells me he has to pull off to relieve himself. And I’m like, “have at it dude I’m just going to keep this train rolling.” So I pedal on, into the abyss, and I just cannot see more than several hundred yards in front of me. I’m thinking, “ok I hope these waterproof things work.” These things are my Ortlieb front back and front panniers, and my yak dry bag, all getting their first real test against massive doses of H2O.
Like I had mentioned in a previous blog, riding into the rain is much different than tearing down camp in a morning rain and then riding in the rain. And my optimistic side says that at least we were able to start out dry and ride for a half hour before we got slammed. And what the hell, this is what adventure is all about……….right? So I just keep it rolling, with rooster tails of water shooting up into my shoes, and torrents of water running down my face, into my eye sockets, and down my jersey. Finally, after about an hour, I ride out of the eye of the storm and into a mellow little section where it’s just a fine drizzle. “Ok, we made it,” I think. And I pedal along hoping that the sky will clear and I’d get myself and my bike wind dried.
Perfect timing as we hit a good descent down to cross the North Saskatchewan River. That would have been totally gnarly if it had been the blinding rain I had just ridden through. Then there was a very gradual up out of the river valley and back onto the flats…….and back into another front. And then the wind picked up, big time, to the point to where I was only able to push 11-12 mph. I mean this was a complete fight against the pedals to maintain any kind of forward progress. So I begin to do the math thing, you know, figuring out how long at what speed it will take us to get somewhere – and at 11 mph it was a good 1:30 to get to Saskatoon.
It begins to rain harder and harder again, and in front of me is another wall of dark grey. I know it’s going to be a fight to get every inch of territory today. BANG……my rear tire blows like a gun going off. And I float with the bars so as to not go down with the squirrelly rear end sliding along the road. Yup, I yell out loud, “SH—just what I need.” And I wrestle the bike and trailer to a standstill. Now I’m in the middle of nowhere. So I walk the bike to a stop sign, and lean the front on the sign while I remove the trailer – in the rain. And I know while I’m doing this that the longer I’m not riding and moving, the colder I’m going to get. Trailer off, and next the rear wheel. Pull that and I use a coke bottle to rest on a dropout so as to not rest on the rear changer. That done I inspect the damage.
Ryan has all the tools and the tubes, so I do my best to get done what I can until he catches up to me. I’m able to remove the tire without tire irons. So I pull the tube and see that it’s a blow up – maybe the rim tape blew out atop a spoke nipple? I inspect the rim tape – perfect. Weird. So I inspect the inside of the tire. Perfect. I was secretly hoping that this rear tire would last me 3000 miles – I mean it was wearing so little thus far. Then I look at the bead – BINGO. Just above the bead the side wall is ruptured, ripped with a tear about 1.5 inches long. Tire……trashed. Tube…….trashed. Ok, let’s pull a brand new tire and get that on until Ryan arrives.
So about 15 min later I see Ryan tooling down the road. If I were him, I would have had a sinking feeling in my gut seeing the other guy standing there on the side of the road, bike and yak separated, raining, cold, just not happening. He pulls in and I fill him in. “I need a tube,” I shout out. So he digs through his yak, pulling tons of gear out to retrieve a tube. I put it in, and he asks me if I need tire irons. “Nope,” I say. I’m a pro at putting these thing on without tire irons! Until I get to the last 8 inches of tire bead. And I mean I struggle, I strain, I curse, but I just cannot push that dag gone bead over the rim. It was as if it were a smaller tire for too big a rim. So how I have to ask Ryan to re-dig out the tools and the tire irons.
I darn near break a tire iron on just a half inch of bead, trying for all I’m worth to get that damned bead under the rim. And my biggest fear is pinching the tube. So I get a half inch in, and then struggle for another half inch, each time worrying about pinching the tube. Not in 20 years have I had that much trouble getting a tire in the rim. So again and again, way too many times do I use the tire iron to man handle the tire into the rim. Finally, we get it, but I’m very scared that the damage was done. So by this time I’m shaking I’m so cold, and I want to put on my goretex top, but want to make sure the tire is good first. So I take 10 pump strokes and hear a hissing out of the tire. SSSSSSSHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTT. I did it. Pinched the tube.
So now Ryan has to take everything out again, retrieve another tube and we have to go through this whole ordeal again. So this time I put the tire on and off of the rim without the tube. I do this several times hoping to stretch the new bead out a bit. I put the new tub in, secure it in the rim well, and then commence to fighting the bead again. I summon up all I have with my thumbs to try to just press it on as I usually do. And I get to the last 8 inches. It’s a fight. I’m freezing cold, shivering, and know that I just have to get this one to take…..or……I don’t know. So I push with my thumbs until they are both numb. DONE!
We blow it up, and it’s good. By now it’s raining hard, really hard. Wheel……on. Yak………on. Then it was time for my goretex jacket. I was shivering so much that I had trouble getting my arms in the sleeves. Manage to get tucked in, and we were off. And the rain is just crazy hard. I was shivering and shaking on the bike as we tried to get up to speed – 13 mph. And then a sign: Saskatoon – 27K. “Ok,” I thought, “this is dig deep time.” So I just put my head down and pedaled, and pedaled, and pedaled. We would catch these immense waves of wash off of truck and cars from the road, totally spraying us in a massive swath of water.
After about 20 min I started to warm up. The goretex was doing a fantastic job keeping the warm in and the cold out. So I got my head a bit better and picked up the pace to 14-15mph. Wave after wave of fronts greeted us as we road those last miles. Finally we pull into western Saskatoon, and stop at a Travellodge to call Mallory’s mom, Grace. We get directions instead, and follow them into the downtown, across the Broadway Street bridge and all the way to Grace’s home. We’re wet as drowned rats, tired, cold, and it’s still raining like no tomorrow. Ryan knocks on the front door. No answere.
And I’m like: “I just have to dry off because I’m about 10 min from hypothermia.” Then we go to the back door, and at this point I’m thing of ducking inside the church next door just to get out of the rain if Grace is not home. And music to my ears, Ryan is taking to someone at the back door. It’s Grace. She let’s us park our bikes and yaks in the garage and welcomes us inside. We’re dripping wet, soaking, stinking, ripe with days of BO, and looking like a couple of homeless dudes from the states.
And it’s a repeat of each and every great person we’ve met on this trip. Grace invites us in, grabs some towels for us and urges Ryan to take a hot shower. Meanwhile she makes some piping hot, strong coffee for me while I wait my turn. And outside it just pouring, crazy pouring. Like Noah’s Ark pouring. And does it ever feel good to be warm and cozy in a dwelling.
Grace introduces us to her son Scott, then offers us some food. We tell her that our appetite is way beyond that. We ask about a subway. YUP, there’s one only a block away. And Grace offers to drive us there while she get’s groceries. Way to cool! So we do the Subway thing, and shock the two servers by ordering 2 12-inch subs each. Ryan has graduated to the big league! I kill one and then Grace comes in. And I think she’s a bit blown away by the quantity of food we’re inhaling. Next up we go to the grocery, a bakery, and then a beer store.
Right now Grace just served up some home made dip and home made chips where I’m here blogging. She’s got steaks on the grill, and we’re being treated like celebrities. The hospitality here in Canada is beyond belief. The rain – it’s still coming down in buckets. And boy am I glad we got in that long ride yesterday………because we’d still be riding in this if we haden’t!
Well, almost dinner time. I want to thank Mallery for calling her mom and setting us up and Saskatoon – a great little city. And I want to especially want to thank Grace for her warmth and hospitality.
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