6/16/09: Bottom of Segment 20/Top of Segment 21; Niton Junction to Edmonton; 94 miles
Get strapped in for a long one. Sorry that this blog is a bit late, but after you get through this little novel you’ll understand why.
I’d first like to go back to the night before, because I’d be less than honest with you if I tried to make you believe that something of this nature, a quite long trip, is nothing but honky dory 7 days a week. That’s just not the case, and consistent and close proximity of people, no matter how close they are to one another, eventually can cause some strife. Well, I’m going to raise my hand on this one and say…..guilty as charged! Because last eve I really became aware of a neurotic part of myself after a very minor incident.
First, let me give you a little background on Pete. Now most of you who know me, some pretty well, and some not so well, probably have figured out that I’m not the neatnick kind of guy. Matter of fact many of you would consider me to be a kind of Oscar Madison type of guy, one who’s often disheveled, has stacks of junk on the desk, often 6-8 inches high, who doesn’t care a hoot of what kind of cloths he wears and what kind of haircut I have. I often wear mismatched socks, and I still have cloths from my college days. I drive junker cars, don’t care about good furniture, and own a quality bed only because a friend donated it to me. Heck, when Judy and I first got together she was stunned when I bought a Patagonia Mountains suit that cost $400, but I wouldn’t spend a nickel on a new sportscoat. I bought that from Goodwill.
BUT, when I buy GEAR……….ahhhh, that’s a completely different story. I’m a gear nut for sure, and I like my gear – bikes, computers, camping and backpacking equipment – to be some of the best made and best available. And I take good care of it. That $400 mountain suit – still got it and it looks as good as new. I’m neurotic about my gear, crazy, a complete fanatic. Now Judy is well aware of my neuroticism, but this part of Pete Gladden is totally new for Ryan. And it goes like this: We’re using a lot of my gear for the trip. And now the Oscar Madison Pete Gladden becomes the Felix Ungar Pete Gladden when it comes to gear, looking over Ryan’s shoulder to make sure he lights the stove properly, uses the computer properly, uses the tools for the bikes properly. I’m a compulsive neurotic with this stuff, have my own little systems with each and every piece of gear………and I can drive people crazy!
So poor Ryan has been dealing with this Felix Ungar Pete Gladden for three weeks now, and he’s done one hell of a job not going crazy at times as I’m peering over his shoulder to make sure everything’s done just right. And what makes things even worse is that Ryan is the REAL Oscar Madison, laid back and So Cal all the way. No worries. Everything is cool. His tent can be a hell hole, disheveled and dirty, with 3 days worth of grass, dirt and weeds on the tent floor. While I………I sweep my tent floor out every morning, wipe down the walls if they’re wet, tidy the thing up on a daily basis. I even secure the tent such that it’s picture perfect when done. Ryan, on the other hand, barley secures his tent, and it ends up limp and lifeless looking more than half the time. We even joke about it now that he’s the new Oscar Madison. I really don’t even think he know’s who the hell Oscar Madison really is.
So we have that thing going on. An 90% of the time it’s pretty funny the Oscar v Felix thing………unless it involves my GEAR! So anyway, we’ve had a few incidents where he’s used the gear and something has happened. He’s burned food black on my titanium cookware, he’s released the fuel screw on my Optimus stove so that it let out way too much gas, thereby carbonizing the whole stove a nasty, sooty black powder. And then there was the computer……..he logged out instead of shutting it down, which caused me to shreak out “SSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIITTTTT. And he was totally bummed, thinking he had done something to really goof up the computer. Now he hadn’t, but I just overreacted. And it was then and there that Ryan said he felt like he was walking on egg shells with my gear. And he was right. I was a total nut, driving him crazy with the stuff. So I explained to him the Felix Ungar part of my with respect to gear, and I apologized. So anyway, these are some of the dynamics you deal with when you’re doing something that is 24/7 for 100 straight days. It just cannot be honky dory all the time. We’re good, and I hope to sus the Felix in me more often than not.
Now, as far as the ride today goes, we woke up to a great day, plenty of sun, and an awesome tailwind. And we took it as I watched the odometer register faster and faster average times. We started out getting the first two hrs in at 15.7mph, and then an hour later at was at 16.3 mph, and then 4 hrs in we’re at 16.9 mph. It was a thing of beauty for sure. And I like doing the math in my head, and calculating the time and distance to Edmonton.
And as we’re flying by, the landscape continues to change. From mostly forest, to now a lot of faming and ranching. And the trees are getting smaller, and less dense. We’re getting closer and closer to the Great Plains.
And as I had mentioned a blog or so back, the riding is changing. We’re in the saddle much more, churning out big gears, really spinning away on the pedals, and that makes for a very sore butt indeed. I find myself getting out of the saddle, shifting down a gear and accelerating a lot just to give my poor behind a break. Now when there’s a climb, it’s generally a very long stretch of highway that grades up for a mile or so, just enough sometimes to make me shift into the middle ring and climb out of the saddle for a change of pace. Much different than the previous three weeks.
And this kind of riding is so much harder mentally, at least I think so. I mean you’re starring down the highway for miles on end, watching it disappear over the horizon, miles and miles away, for hours on end, all day long. We both notice the monotony of this at times, but each manage to do our own head games to get through the next hour, and the next, and the next.
So we get to the point to where we’re 20 miles from Edmonton, and the road Y’s off for the business route, which takes you right through the center of the city, or the through route, which skirts around the northern end of the city. We take the through route, thinking it would be much better. NOT. We’re getting every truck and his brother coming down this route, and the traffic is getting insane as we get closer to the city. Meanwhile, I’m putting the hammer down, and running the bike and yak up to 20-23mph with the tailwind, just trying to crush the last 20 miles. We’re skirting on and off of exit/entrance ramps, dodging more and more crap on the berm, and riding into the heart of Edmonton’s industrial district. There are massive gas refineries off to our left, huge complexes that span kilometers in width. There are industrial parks everywhere, with the truck traffic just doubling, tripling, quadrupling as we pedal on into Edmonton.
And then Ryan says he’s out of water, with 20K to go, and it’s damned hot by now, probably about 85 degrees out. And we begin to start to look for a gas station so you can get some fluids. But there’s nothing. Every exit just goes off into the industrial Netherlands with no gas stations in sight. So we continue to pound it out, for another half hour. And finally he hits his “Bitch Hungry” point, and wants to turn on the next avenue, a place to goes down into a college area. So we make the turn, and then deal with massive traffic on a road with no berm. And now I’m Bitch Hungry…………and there it is………a Subway. BANG. We stop, pull bikes and trailers up to the wall and just about fall across the door. We’d done 94 miles in 5:30 hrs, and we’re dead tired, and really wiped out mentally having dealt with the crazy traffic for over an hour. I get my 2 12-inch subs, while Ryan gets 1 12-inch. We get fountain cokes, and just guzzle the things by the fountain, filling and refilling time and again. We sit down and literally inhale the subs, and I’m done within 10 min, finishing 24 inches of sub.
Then, I just sit there and fill and refill my glass with water for uncountable glasses full. Ryan wanted to go find a place to stay, and let me tell you that this was not the most desirable section to go looking, what with an adult video and magazine store just across the street, traffic super busy and crazy, and tattooed freaks coming and going in every direction. So I hung at Subway while he went to find a place to stay. So I finally go outside to sit in the sun because I’d drank so much ice water that I was chilled inside the subway. I go out, and find a rail to sit on as I’m waiting. And a guy comes out of a club, the Lizard Lounge, to have a smoke. So we talk a bit, and I tell him of our journey, and of my partner looking for a place to stay.
About a half hour later Ryan comes back and says an apartment complex manager said we could sleep behind the complex in a grove of trees……in this seedy neighborhood. Said the guy with a real piece of work, wearing a bathrobe, and had on a pair of slippers covered in cat hair. Great. I cannot wait to sleep out in this wonderful neighborhood. So we’re talking, and the gentleman comes out again to have a smoke. We all three talk for a bit, and then go into the Lizard Lounge to see if we can use the internet there and have a beer.
Put up a chair next to the gentleman whose been taking a smoke break outside, Ken, I order a beer, and we galk some more about the journey. And Ryan and I are joking about “camping out behind the apartment complex. Ken is listening and kind of laughing along with us, but then he tells us to come over and camp in his yard. Says he lives in a very nice neighborhood, and we’d be safe and have no hassles. So I order another Richard’s Red, and we ponder, and it doesn’t take long of us to take Ken up on his offer. We have one more beer, and then I go next door to the Liquor store to buy Ken a 12-pack for his generosity.
Now Ken drives us back to his house, probably about 3 miles away. I’m cruising down the road, nearly 100 miles in my legs, I’m dead tired, hot, crusty with sweat, and riding the streets with 3 Richard’s Reds in my belly. So we pull into this really nice neighborhood, and then into Ken’s driveway. It was pure delight. No heavy traffic, no tatted freaks everywhere, no craziness. It was serene, quite, wonderful. We pulled in his drive, walked our bikes into his yard, met his dog, and sat down to a soda for Ryan and another beer for Ken and I. So we sat and talked for a bit, unwound, and just relaxed. No more stressing out about camping in the concrete jungle.
About an hour later Ken’s wife Kim arrives home from work. Now I often wonder about being invited to someone’s home - always up to this point being invited by a man – what the wife will say. We’ve been in this situation for the second time now. We’re often horrible looking after having rode the whole day, covered with dried sweat, salt, and usually stinking to the high heaven. So I’m usually apprehensive when the “better half” get’s to meet us road warriors. Well, Kim was wonderful, and greeted us with warmth and kindness. She went inside, having just gotten home from work, and quickly brought out some chips and salsa for us to all munch on.
We sit, munch, and talk for awhile, and then Ken decides to take us to dinner at their favorite eatery. So we change, jump in their car, and off we go into downtown Edmonton for dinner. And yes, after 2 12-inch subs the gremlin is back. We go to a really nice place that serves up some awesome looking dishes. I order Ken’s favorite – the chicken potpie. And it’s wonderful. Ryan gets a great burger. We have a great time. But the night’s far from over. Now Ken wants to show us around a bit, so he takes us to the largest mall in North America – The West Edmonton Mall. I mean this is a bloody city. Ken tells us it’s 9 blocks long and some 3-4 blocks wide. It has a saltwater “Sea world” type of water area with performing seals and sea lions. It has a regulation hockey rink within, a huge wavepool beach area within, gazillions of stores, shops, and eateries. I was lost in the place 10 min after entering. There is a Bourbon Street area with nightclubs. I mean I could go on and on. It was like out of a movie for God’s sake.
So we spend a good hour in the mall, marveling at the immensity of the thing. But the night is not over. Now it’s 9pm, still as if it’s 5pm back home with respect to the light outside, and we’re off for some more sightseeing. Ken and Kim drive us to the “Heights” where the multi-million dollar homes sit, on a massive outcropping above the Saskatchewan River. These places are beautiful, and the view of the river and the city below is breathtaking. Had we not met Ken and Kim our only vision of Edmonton would be of the grungy industrial center we had ridden through in the north along Rt 16.
But the night was not over. Ryan and I get the munchies again and ask Ken and Kim if they’d like some ice cream. So we stop at Safeway, buy mucho ice cream and go back to their home to much again. Kim brings out some of her Bryer’s ice cream, plus Ryan’s ice cream, plus my ice cream and we do the Neapolitan thing. Kim has one bowl, Ryan 2-3, and me 3+. Ken just sticks to a beer, and I chase some ice cream with another Richard’s Red.
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