Day 32: Fernie, BC -> Longview, AB

Stats:
Date: Friday, June 16, 2023
Start: Fernie, BC (Staying with a friend)
End: Longview, AB (Twin Cities Hotel)
Distance: 204km

WARNING: This is a looooong post!

Any morning that's warm and dry is a good morning, and this one on a futon in Fernie was a good morning.  But it wasn't going to last long.  I wanted to be away by around 8am and I was saying goodbye to my friend Laura with no idea when we'd see each other again.  I packed and got ready to set off and said a final farewell to my host and friend: Laura.

Laura and I met while both students in computer science at the University of Calgary.  We were both "after degree" students, meaning we had previous degrees and were returning for another one.  Being almost a decade older than anyone else in the program, we had a shared understanding of what the other was going through.  We also had similar challenges of showing up for a math degree after being out of high school for so long.  But most importantly was that Laura was a kind person with a kind of infectious enthusiasm and positivity, even during the most stressful times of the degree.  Laura's sense of humour made me laugh constantly.  We'd done projects together in the degree and were "trauma bonded" by the grinding pace of university.  We also rock climbed together and were in the same social circle.

I was lucky to have a friend like Laura who shared the understanding of life as a "mature" student and who could always make me laugh.  She did the degree in part to allow her to live in the mountains - Fernie in particular - and so I'm very happy to see a friend who found what she was looking for.  We hugged and said goodbye, unsure of when the next meeting would be.

When I was half way out of the neighbourhood I stopped and had a quiet moment of sadness, shed a few tears, and reflected on what felt like the end of a chapter of my life (going back to university in Calgary).  You can't go home again, but I hope I'll be able to see my friend soon.

I took a moment to recenter myself, and headed into town.  The first priority was breakfast and I'd found my mark the day before when walking through town: Big Bang Bagels.  If there's something I love more than oatmeal and the sound of my own voice, it's bagels!  And folks did this place ever deliver!  Lots of choice, lots of cheese, and generous portions!  They're not the chewy Montreal style bagel I can never get enough of, but boy was it delicious!  I sat out on their sidewalk patio and watched the hustle and bustle of a sunny Fernie morning.  People going to work, school children skipping to school, and businesses opening up shop.  I watched a small mountain town come to life.

And then someone on bike started down the street, but this one was particularly noteworthy.  He had all the pannier bags and attachments that I've gone to recognize as a fellow bike touerer.  As this kindred spirit was rolling by I shouted out, "Where are you going?" and he replied, "St. John's!".  I quickly returned "Me too!"

He slammed on his brakes and looked at me with a puzzled expression, not having expected that answer.  I pointed to my bike and he immediately laughed.  We already knew we had so much in common without anything needing to be said.

His name is John, and within seconds a second person on bike pulled up: Kip.  They are a father-son duo who are biking across Canada.  I'd heard about them from the flaggers at road construction sites who kept telling me "There's two people about a day ahead of you, father and son."  I'd been chasing them wondering if I'd ever catch up for almost 700km.  And now here they were.  I told them about all of this and they were tickled that word of their trip had gotten back to me.  We traded notes on the ride so far, intended routes, and contact info.  They rode off to get groceries.

As soon as they biked off, Dan rolled up along the street having come back into town for breakfast.  We chatted again and said our goodbyes.  He was heading for Banff-Canmore along trails and paths near highway 40 whereas I was going to Calgary on highway 22.

To help frame this day I need you to understand some background: I have two dear friends in Calgary who I meet up with approximately every 6 months.  We've been doing this pretty regularly for over 10 years.  We were scheduled and booked to meet at the end of May but I scuttled that plan when I left for this trip.  I'd promised to get back in touch when I was close to Calgary.  I'd contacted them two/three days out and it turned out we wouldn't be able to meet back up unless it was Saturday.  This meant I would need to make the almost 300km trip from Fernie to Calgary before 7pm the next day.  I had about 35 hours to get to the meeting and I was adamant that I would make it.  I'm not planning on returning to Calgary after this trip is done and I don't know when I'll see them again...so I wasn't going to miss this one window.

I decided to figure out how far I was going later in the day once I covered some ground and got a feel for how I was doing.  I started biking out of Fernie.

It was a glorious day.  Cool mountain air combined with bright sun and perfect fluffy white clouds to provide the odd moments of shade.  Fernie was making sure that my last taste of BC was a taste of Rocky Mountain life in all it's glory.

I biked out of town on Highway 3 towards Sparwood and started to count down the kilometers I had left in British Columbia.  I was only about 5km outside of Fernie when Kip and John caught up with me.  They asked if we could ride together, and I felt embarrassed that I hadn't even thought of the possibility of asking them the same thing earlier.  And so - for the first time in 2500km - I had company for the ride.

It was incredible to have people to talk to as we rode.  Especially since we could laugh at our shared problems and insights from the ride.  We paced one another.  Took turns in the front.  Drafted off one another.  And for the first time I realized that biking didn't have to be a solo activity.  I enjoyed every minute of our time together on the road.  They are both interesting, passionate, and - obviously - adventurous people.  Having someone there who didn't say "You're nuts!" for doing this trip but instead said "I understand" was such a comfort.

The rainstorm of the previous days had been replaced with winds.  And finally they were tailwinds.  Strong tailwinds.  We were moving at between 20-25km/h with ease along the highway as we covered the 30km to Sparwood in under 1.5 hours.  The highway then crooked Southwest towards the Crowsnest Pass.  This involved some climbing, and we chatted as we pushed along the highway.  The turn meant our tailwind was now alternating between crosswind and headwind.  We were slowed at times but this climb was nothing compared to what we'd already conquered on Highway 3.  Allison.  Sunday.  Anarchist.  Eholt.  Paulson.  Gray Creek.  All of them had taught us what REAL climbing was like, and Crowsnest Pass felt pretty trivial in comparison.  We were all struggling with the wind though, and we could hear the groans and laboured breathing of one another.

At some point we found a rest area and stopped for lunch at noon.  We shared food and chatted about where we'd been, what we'd done, who we were, and got to understand the people we were before starting on this journey.  In thru-hiking it's uncommon for people to talk about their lives off the trail.  The trail and the experience is a great equalizer for anyone and everyone who hikes.  The feeling for this bike trip felt very similar.  John and Kip gave me a few homemade energy bars (this will be important later!)

The rest area we stopped at happened to be the location of the welcome sign for British Columbia for people traveling West.  I'd been so caught up in meeting new friends and compatriots that I hadn't really realized where we were, but....we'd done it.  After conquering all the mountains, passes, valleys, highways, byways, ferries, detours, construction, heatwaves, rainstorms, highs and lows...

We were leaving British Columbia.

I think I'll save a retrospective on B.C. for later, but I had started the trip on May 16 and it was now June 16.  After an entire month I was leaving the first province of the trip.  I couldn't quite process or put it in perspective.  But I knew this was an important milestone of the journey.

We snapped a few photos, got on our bikes, and passed a woman sitting next to an RV trailer.  Her husband had unhooked it from a pickup truck only minutes before and I asked if she was alright as I passed by.  She lowered the phone that at her ear which I hadn't seen.  She told us she was ok and then asked if we were alright.  I replied "No!  We're biking to St. John's, Newfoundland.  We're insane!"

Our tiny peleton set off again.

There was a short climb to enter the Crowsnest Pass.  The winds were now solidly tailwinds and they were PUSHING us along.  We were getting 25-30km/h with no great effort and it was some of the most exciting riding of the trip so far.  Everything seemed to be going right!  Shortly thereafter was the welcome sign for Alberta.  We again stopped to snap a few pictures and chatted with a couple who were also taking pictures at the sign.  They could hardly believe it when we told them where we were going.  After spending one month in only the first province, I wasn't sure I believed it myself!

Through the Crowsnest Pass we rode along freshly paved roads.  The mountains of the Continental Rockies were giants on all sides, gateway to the foothills and prairies that I knew lay beyond.  We rode past the small towns of the pass: Hazel, Sentinel, and Coleman.  The highway ran just above Coleman - which sat in a bit of a valley - and as we were passing a train ran through the town.  The sight was like something out of a postcard and if I asked you to image a town at the edge of the Rockies and the Prairies you might imagine the exact scene we were treated to.  Later when we stopped John would use the same words I've used to describe such moments: perfect.  Those perfects moments are rare, but when you go at the slower pace of cycling you are treated to them every once in a while.  I managed to snap a photo of it but the picture cannot capture the feeling and magnificence of that place at that moment.  You'll just have to take it from someone who was there....it was a perfect moment.

Coleman is home to the Cinnamon Bear Cafe.  Laura had mentioned that it was worth stopping at, and I'd made a note in my head to at least make a pit stop there.  We were now 65km into our day and it turns out that John and Kip were feeling the same hunger I was.  The day had so far been incredible: strong tailwind, riding with new friends, incredible weather, spectacular sights, reaching a new province.  I think we were all feeling what I think is best described as euphoria.

It was about to get better.

The Cinnamon Bear Cafe and Bakery is known for it's cinnamon buns.  And if you've made it this far into this post let me give you a piece of advice: do. not. drive. past. this. bakery.  The buns were warm, chewy, and pulled apart in such a way that I was convinced someone must have sold their soul for the ability to create it.  They were coated with a cinnamon glaze that was sticky but not too sweet and not too caramelized.  The spices of the glaze were subtle and not overwhelming.  And they were served with a cup of cream cheese frosting.  Each of us got one and tucked in.  We wondered out loud how such an incredible creation was possible and the staff overheard us and thanked us for the compliment.  If I HAD to critique it my jab would be that the bun was so big that I didn't have room for a second one.  I cannot imagine that a better cinnamon bun exists, and I worry that all will pale in comparison.  I'm spending a lot of time writing about this, but that's only because I think a cinnamon bun is difficult to get wrong...but to do it so well that it sets a new standard for cinnamon buns is an equal feat.  The Cinnamon Bear Cafe and Bakery has done it.

We thanked everyone there for the experience and their incredible work and jumped back on the bikes.  It was 2:45pm and we were soon to part ways.  John and Kip were stopping in Blairmore for groceries and planning to visit and stay in Frank, AB.  I was pushing on to try to cover as much distance as I could to get to Calgary and my reunion.  When we reached Blairmore we said goodbye and they turned off.  We're following a very similar route across the country and I'm confident I'll see them again!

I pushed on.

The next town was Frank, Alberta.  This is the site of the historic Frank Slide.  Rather than explaining it myself you can read this sign that explains it a bit better.

I thought I snapped more pictures but I was moving on the bike and must have missed the button.  To help you understand, imagine the mountain in the distance and an impossibly large boulder field extending from it's base.  The boulder field is on both sides of the road and it seems impossible that rock from the mountain could have moved so far away but clearly it did.  The side of the slide and it's consequences are immediately understood by seeing the rock field - which feels like it could be the surface of some rocky moon - all around.  I'd never seen it before but heard the stories.  To actually go through the field of rock was sobering.

I wanted to visit the Interpretative Center but my goal was Calgary and so I kept moving.  The mountains immediately stopped and were replaced with the rolling hills of the Foothills region of Alberta.  To say the mountains just stop isn't an exaggeration.  They tower over the landscape because at one point they just don't anymore.  They don't just trail off.  They tower, and then they stop.  Where they stop are some rolling hills that quickly transition into the prairies.  The contrast is stark and difficult to capture in words.  You have to see it to understand.

I kept heading east at a speed of almost 35km/h as the tailwinds pushed me ever faster.  I was approaching the foothills around Pincher Creek is one of my favourite areas of Alberta.  Fun Fact: Former Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Canada Beverley McLachlin was born and raised in Pincher Creek and there's a street named for her there!

Faster than I expected, I reached the intersection of the Crowsnest Highway (Highway 3) and The Cowboy Trail (Highway 22).  This turn meant the end of my journey along Highway 3 that had started in Hope and taken me across Southern British Columbia.  Highway 3 had been my home for almost 900km.  Another milestone in a day of non-stop changes, transitions, and graduations.

The Cowboy Trail stretches from Lundbreck, AB (outside Pincher Creek) where I was picking it up now to Mayerthorpe, AB outside of Edmonton.  I'd driven this section twice over my 10 years in Alberta and remember it fondly.  I had been looking forward to biking it for the first time since I'd started the trip.  Today was the day!

I started north along The Cowboy Trail and immediately realized that my 35km/h tailwind was now my crosswind.  My speed was gone!  In addition, The Cowboy Trail goes across the foothills which means I was going to be either going up or down the rest of the way.  No more long flat areas!

I pressed north, pushing myself towards the reunion with my friends.

My original goal had been the Maycroft Recreation Area which was approximately 120km from Fernie.  This was the logical place to stop, but it would mean almost 160km the next day to Calgary and I had to get there earlier than a 160km day would afford.  So once I reached Maycroft I continued on with the idea that I'd likely be wild camping somewhere along the highway.  I was treated to some incredible view however.  To my left were foothills and the sudden jagged titans of the Continental Rockies behind them.  To my right was rolling farmland.  I grabbed a number of pictures as I rode.

As I biked a heavy bank of clouds moved over and the sky completely clouded over.  The day seemed grey and it felt like it was getting dark, but it was only 5pm and I'd gone 137km (which was the longest distance I'd done on any previous ride).  I checked, and the sunset was expected to be 9:51pm.  I had LOTS of time to push closer to Calgary and decided to keep going.

This is where John and Kip's energy bars from earlier in the day saved me.  In an attempt not to stop and waste time, I ate the energy bars and pushed on.

Up and down.  Up, up, and down.  Up, up, up, up down.  It rolled on and on.  I talked to the cattle in the fields as I passed.  They all regarded me with the same blank stares.  I popped my headphones in and started listening to music to keep me going.  A new find whose genre, theme, and tone were perfect for the rolling Alberta hills was Built to Last by Jeremy Fisher (CanCon!):

Cause it’s easier to sit on your ass,
Than ditch the car and save a little cash
If you wanna travel first class
Then ride a bike that’s built to last

Another 40km past Maycroft and I reached Chain Lakes Provincial Park.  I considered stopping there for the night, but it was Friday and the campground was completely booked.  At least that's what the Alberta Parks website said.  I decided to keep going to cover more ground.  I'd now gone 160ish kilometers.  It was almost 8pm.  I noticed I had a message from a friend who recommended some more music.  And that's how I rolled along The Cowboy Trail listening to another Alberta song called All Hell For A Basement by Big Sugar:

I'd noticed a possible wild camping area on my map that was 15km further up the highway, but then 10km on a gravel road towards the mountains.  I kept biking with the intent to see how I felt once I reached there.

During the day I'd texted my family to let them know I was pushing towards Calgary and didn't know where I was planning to stop.  My father seemed concerned about this and seemed to be trying to get me to commit to stopping somewhere.  I was mildly annoyed as it seemed to me he was anxious and it was coming through in text messages.  I ignored my phone and tried to focus on covering more distance.

As I rode I was constantly scanning for places that I might setup my tent just off the road that would avoid detection from passing cars.  There weren't many trees or brush, and fences kept me from going far off the road.  I biked on.

This area is what you might imagine when you think of Alberta.  Oil fields, ranchlands, cowboys.  It's all located here.  A sign I passed reminded me what a stereotype of Alberta this area can be:

In the monotony of a long day's ride I checked the odometer total for the entire trip and found I was about to hit another milestone: 2500km total since I'd started the journey.

At about 8:30pm I'd gone 175km and reached the road to the open camping area.  I pulled off onto the gravel road with the idea that I'd evaluate whether to tent here or try to keep going.  As I pulled onto the gravel road I scanned the brush and then heard a car slow to a stop behind me on the gravel.  I glanced over my shoulder and saw it was right behind me.  I thought, "They must be curious about me, or are stopping to see if I need help."  I turned around to talk to the people in the car.

And it was my father.

He lives and works in Fort McMurray (about 10 hours drive north of where I currently was) and had driven down on his days off to surprise me.  What I thought was angst and worry in the text messages was actually him trying to subtly figure out where I was so he could find and surprise me!

I was certainly surprised.  I could hardly believe he was there.  We hugged and talked and he told me about how he'd brought his bike and equipment with the intent to find me and bike with me for a day or so, but had ran over a nail after only 30km of biking in my direction the day before and been forced to stop.  He'd got a ride back to his vehicle, driven around for a day exploring and finding a shop to fix his bike, and then spent almost another day trying to figure out where I was and driving the possible roads I could have taken.

He offered to multiple options for where to stay, including just driving me to Calgary, and I decided that - with only 30km to Longview, AB (the first town on the Cowboy Trail) - I could likely make it by sundown.  He offered to take my pannier bags and I accepted.  He drove north to grab a hotel room at the Twin City Hotel and Saloon in Longview and I set off with no weight and renewed purpose.

With 30km to go it was around 8:45pm.  I had an hour of sunlight and then some twilight to get to Longview.  I put everything I had into it and pushed on.  I was doing 20km/h easily and could step it up to 25-30 with some effort.  The hills slowed me, but not as much without all my gear on the bike.

As I worked further and further north the sun - which had been obscured by clouds the entire evening - suddenly found some clear skies between the cloud and the mountains.  As it set it cast the warmest yellows and reds across the landscape.  Golden hour in the foothills would be my prize for pushing all day.

I said earlier that the area around Pincher Creek is one of my favourite in Alberta, but my absolute, hands down favourite is the area around Longview.  It's hills and grasslands are surreal.  If you've ever seen the movie Interstellar then you've seen this area.  The first third of the movie that takes place on Earth was filmed around Longview and this area of Alberta.  It's a beauty that might be lost on some, but anyone who appreciates landscape would immediately find it arrestingly and breathtakingly picturesque.

In golden hour all of it's features were accentuated.  Every rolling hill's relief was contoured with shadows as the steep angle of the Sun allowed every imperfection to cast a long shadow.  The sort of achingly beautiful landscape was not stunningly beautiful.

I won't keep trying to describe it.  Words and pictures cannot do it justice.  So pictures will have to do for now!

Just before getting into Longview, 200km for the day!

I reached Longview at 9:55pm just as the sun was setting.  My father had got the hotel room, and driven back to find me.  He then would jump ahead and catch photos and video of me as I biked by him.  The final two kilometers into Longview were a steep hill.  The day always seems to find a way to finish with a climb.

Dad was waiting in the parking lot of the hotel taking pictures of me.  I stopped and saw I'd gone 204km for the day.  It had been over 13 hours since I'd left Fernie.  I'd been moving for just over 10 of those hours and my average speed was just above 20km/h.  I immediately started stretching.  I wanted to make sure I could still bike the next day!

My father had bought dinner for me and we sat outside the hotel/saloon and ate.  We caught up and did a quick phone call with my mother.  As the sun set it changed the colours of the clouds from pinks to reds to maroons.  We sat there till it was dark, enjoying the landscape and the splendor.  We went inside and I showered.  Sleep came as soon as my head hit the pillow.

It has now taken me 4600 words to properly explain and capture the day.  In part this is because I saw and did a lot.  In part I just had so many thoughts.  And also because it was one of my favourite parts of Canada.  The peaks were higher and the lows were lower this day.  I said goodbye to friends, finished my time in BC, met new friends, enjoyed some incredible experiences, managed to push as close as I could to my meeting the next day, was reunited with my dad, and enjoyed tailwinds almost the entire day.  It was a memorable one.  And will be difficult to beat.