Cumulative distance: 880 km
Maximum speed: 137 kph
Moving average: 88 kph
Overall average: 66 kph
Moving time: 5:52
Total time: 7:58
New Data! Temperature range 12.4 - 31.8C
Editor's note: If you happened to read the earlier version of this update, my most sincere apologies. I promise that we are not that boring.
Started off early this morning; up at 7 because we had a tour of the former Amethyst Lodge, now The Crimson, scheduled for 8:00 am.
There hasn't been too much new construction in Jasper in the last few decades, other than pipelines, so seeing a hotel get a major retrofit is a big deal for the town.
Everything is new as the entire building has been stripped right down to the bare bones. There is even a pool included in the basement, where there was once meeting rooms.
Once that is done, our first order of business is to get the most dangerous part of the trip out of the way: the Jasper Esso. I am somewhat surprised by how little gas we have because all we've done is driven from home; there is only 370 trip meter and the gas tank has little more than fumes. Now, what you may not realize is that for a motorcycle, the ST, at 25 litres, has a very large gas tank, which is nearly double the size of my other bike, the KiLleR. Under normal circumstances, conservatively driven (which is how I ALWAYS drive) the tank should be good for close to 500 km.
It is 9:00 am and there is a line up of cars and trucks waiting to get to a pump. Not everyone has come in from the same direction so cars are front-to-front and back to back, so vehicles are boxed in. Everyone is waitning for the other guy to move. We swing around tha back and come in from south, which is easy for us since we are so skinny but bigger vehicles are trapped. We can see people frustrated and we are worried there is going to be an incidence of "road rage" at the Jasper Esso. These people must be foreginers because Canadians would never be this way: we are too polite, deferential and apologetic.But we are on the highway by 9:15, already a productive start to the day.
Had the rare and usual privilege of seeing a black wolf along the side of the highway. In fact, I had spotted it a ways in advance trotting down the middle of the road, content to be where there was no traffic. But as we got closer, it moved off to the side, warily watching us, but not too concerned as long as we didn't make any moves to get closer.We watched her as she moved into the forest. A rare and beautiful sight.
Our next rare and beautiful sight is seeing the summit of Mt. Robson, which is so often enclosed in cloud. It looks spectacular and now, having seen the pictures, I regret we didn't stop to gaze upon it more lovingly.
There is some construction on the road so we have to stop a number of times. At one stop, the bike is off and we are just cooling our heels. It allows us to idle our brains and me, an opportunity to look at the surroundings more. Nan: "imagine if a bear came running out of the bush and pushed the bike over". Yes, this is a highly plausible scenario. An 800 pound grizzly comes barelling out of the bush, running up to us, uses both front paws to push the bike over with us on it, then runs back into the bush. Idle.
We stop in Valemont from breakfast. It really is great getting the first leg of the day done before the first meal. We have beat a lot of heat and we are going to take a break anyway, so it is the ideal way to break up the day. Valemont is actually bigger than you might realize. We had this vision of a single street perpendicular from the highway but in fact, it is quite a big community. I was told there is even a t.v. station there. Nan picks a little cafe quite a ways from the highway. There is a gift shop attached, which is always suspicious to me but it turns out the food is particularly good. We even meet a former collegue of Nan's from Crestwood Vet Clinic, Birgitte, a doctor who is on holidays with her family and driving from Salt Spring Island.
Turning off Highway 5 at Little Fort, we were into the terraine that is best suited for motorcycles: curvy, twisty, windy, knarly. Unfortunately, it doesn't offer up pie every time. On our trip through this region on the way to Pemberton two years ago, we discovered a little cafe at Opax Mountain, about 20 km from Little Fort. They served great, home made pie and great, non-home made ice cream. We were anxiously anticipating our stop at Opax Mountain Cafe, However, nestled in the woods a long way from everywhere, except for quadders (i.e. "quad riders"), it was quite likely that there was not enough business to keep it going. The cafe was closed and while there was still camping there, not much else. No pie, for certain. We did lay on the grass though and collected our wits, which we had left somewhere back on the Yellowhead. Or we may have lost them here in 2012.
Fortunately, we did not have a long way to go to our destination. Sheridan Lake Bed and Breakfast was only an hour's ride from Little Fort. Hwy 24 is a great ride, not the best in BC but far better than what we have in Alberta for motorcycles, and this is where the road gets really interesting. For the motorcyclist, it is all about the journey as opposed to the destination, and that is no cliche. The last section of road to the B&B is really twisty as the road follows along the lake shore and the final stretch is gravel but that's o.k. Deborah, our hostess, greets us like she has been anxiously anticipating our arrival.
Without any pretense, Deborah is giving us the first warning. There is a dangerous cougar in the area and a conseravtion office has been in the area trying to capture or kill it. It killed a dog down the street on Tuesday. Her little dog is a little black cocker spaniel that has been playfully running around us as we move the bike to the back but then promptly disappears. Not two minutes after our arrival, (and the cougar warning) we are all walking around calling "Bailey, BAILEY!" but she shows in short order and Bailey is whisked into the fenced yard.
Our room is a semi-detached wing off the main house. We have our own little kitchenette, barbeque and there is a huge, elevated king bed with a view out to the lake. The bathroom has a walk in shower plus a big, soaker tub big enough for the whole family. There is also a big screen t.v., with satellite service and Blu-Ray player. The t.v. is on to greet us.
We decide to drive to 100 Mile House. We are also able to justify the trip by picking up some nice groceries since we are going to cook for ourselves on the barbeque. And of course, ride some twisty roads. It's only 36 km anyway. Turns out, it's a better ride than expected because we allow the GPS to choose the "shortest" route, which takes us the back way, a much twistier ride than Hwy 24, though it does have 5 km of gravel.
However, it also leads to our first mishap of the trip. We are bombing down the road, maybe a little fast for gravel, and we cross over a cattle guard. Breaking the sound barrier. Not much of a barrier, if you ask me but an obstacle, nonetheless. The bike flies over the grill and hits the ensuing gravel hard, bottoming out on the rear shock. Nan's faculties fall out. "Just get us back", she says.
We do get back, oepn the top case to pull out our haul, and we find the champagne has punctured a can of beer. I am not talking about a tiny little crease that has leaked out a thimbleful of beer, the can has ripped wide open.
It's a tragedy. We have lost an entire 500 ml can of "Thirsty Beaver" beer from Kelowna. (Hi Pete!) Too say nothing of the fact that anything that was in our top case now has a distinctive beaver smell to it. Fortunately, we have three more cans. And champagne.
Oh, and do you remember the requisite helmet shot? I decided that Nan needed something more interesting.
This is what Nan has taken to calling "helmet shot of the day".
Here is what's funny: Nan is generally the Chief Photographer on motorcycle trips because she is not worried about the driving so she can sit back there and shoot to her heart's content. In downloading the photos from the camera to the computer, I was somewhat stunned at the number of pictures of the back of my helmet. Of "Mr. Thursday" as well.
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