Thursday, June 19, 2008

We Don't Know What We are Doing, Part I

Well everyone, thats three days down. We left Vancouver two days ago and knocked out a flat 96 miles to Hope, British Columbia, at an extremely healthy pace, especially considering the lengthy stop at the Sasquatch Cafe, a delightful establishment conveniently tucked into the forest along highway 7. We were there, but nobody seems to believe that it exists, and my blurry photograph has led people to conclude that its a hoax...But hear me now, the size of that basket of french fries was no joke.
A friendly man who owns a BBQ in town was kind enough to let us set up camp out back, and so, surrounded by the lush greens of the Canadian rain forest and distant snow-capped peaks, camp we did. Sleep was tough to come by as the precipitation commonly associated with a rain forest made itself known in the night, but we woke up rested enough...just a little soggier than we might have wished. We packed up camp and headed east into what we thought would be a mildly-rolling 120 mile day. 56 km and 5 hours later we were two mountain passes in and 4,000 ft higher, scratching our heads. Those 65 pound bikes are rather tough to pull up a hill. We ate some food and pressed on all the same, despite what was a profoundly discouraging morning. We made it into Keremeos, British Columbia, our destination, with just an hour or so of daylight left, cutting it a little closer than we would like, but we were pleased with conquering such a long, extraordinarily hard day (there were more mountains than just those first two passes). On the lighter side of yesterday's happenings, we did see a juvenile moose cross the road from right to left, inexplicably fall down in the left lane, gather itself, and then continue off into the forest to pursue what looked to be a very clumsy life. Ah, the wonder of nature.
We awoke in Keremeos this morning with a 107 mile day in front of us (in the end it actually turned out to be closer to 115), and a revived zest for conquering challenges after having completed the day before. Rolling hills led us out of the town and up toward the first pass. No big deal. We descended into Osoyoos, a beautiful lakeside city surrounded by stunning mountains. So far so good. We ate some food, and were told that there was a climb out of Osoyoos, but from there it was mostly flat into Grand Forks, today's endpoint. Optimistic, we mounted our heavy steeds and headed to the hill. Here's were it gets crazy. We went up for about 15 fairly steep kilometers, sweating underneath the northern desert sun, and the mountain appeared to be at its highest. A tourist's lookout added to the feeling of completion. We joked around a bit, snapped some fantastic pictures, put on some warmers for what had to be an upcoming descent, and headed out again. Just around a turn, the road kicked up, and the mountain revealed another very large section that we simply couldn't see before. It seemed like it would not end. At least four more times (the whole memory is rather blurred) we were sure that there was no more sky for that mountain to fill, when it swept to the right or left, and kicked again. Eric estimated it to be nearly 30 km, and my legs did not disagree.
The descent was virtually non-existent as we stayed atop the hills, rolling our way toward Grand Forks. Small climb after small climb drained us little by little, until there were 14 kilometers to go, and we felt like we might have 10 more in us. I was in rare form, unsure in those moments whether or not I was even there. And then I felt something odd. Wind! Wind sweeping rapidly over my face! We were on a descent! Mercy! The road twisted and turned downhill until we swept around the side of the mountain to reveal the town of Grand Forks below. I can't even express that feeling of satisfaction.
We arrived at sunset at the home of our host, Peter, a Carpenter, to find that he had prepared a meal for us. His hospitality has been a tremendous boost.
Tomorrow is a new day, and a new challenge. Will we conquer it again? Will it conquer us? Tune in next time to find out!

Goodnight everyone.

- Jason

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Jason and Eric,
I'm following your ride and 'feeling your pain' and exhilaration! You should be very proud of yourselves but I know it must be extremely draining. I'm so impressed! Hang in there and keep believing. A verse to ride by: Neh 8:10 - "the joy of the Lord is my strength!"
Love, Aunt Kit