There is always the feeling when you cycle out in the Alberta prairies. The sense of wonder, the sense of awe, the sense of bewilderment when the wind starts to blow. When you cycle through every curve of the road, every hills, every coulées, all the southern Alberta wind swept plains can offer; you feel it in your muscle, you feel it with every breath, you feel it in the very sensation of breathtaking view when you lift up your eyes to its splendour. You tend to feel how insignificant it is of our existence in this world. The pain reminds you of the very hurtful moments you have been through in your life, whether it be self inflicted, or by the very people you have come to love and lost...
Even though I took the whole week off for this trip, I still get called in to work for three days. Hence, I had little to no preparation at all for this trip, as compared to five years ago. Back then I was on a cycling spree to eight different destinations, covering around six hundred kilometres which the furthest I went was to Coutts. I still remember how I felt back then... Some lasting memories I will never forget.
Looking back at my journey I was rather intrigued by how everything worked out for me. The night before I was trying to get the saddle bags on only to realize the rack I have does not fit with the disc-brakes on the bike frame. It was around half past eight when I reached Sport Check at the mall to get something that will fit on my bike. When I got there I was told they have already stored their saddle bag racks for the season; and suggested I go to Canadian Tire to get them. When I got there I found the perfect saddle for my bike. Instead of having to fit it on the frame of the bike, the one I got only needed to fit on the seat-post, which works perfectly for me. However, the saddle bag I have does not actually fit on the rack itself, so I had to position it in a way where it is a little to the front. Much to my dismay, for the first thirty kilometres of my trip I was having trouble cycling because my heel would knock the saddlebags. After around fifteen minutes I finally figured out how to fix it and it was smooth sailing after.
When I reached Barons, I stopped for a bite to eat. I was hungry then. The wind started to pick up right after breakfast and fortunately, southerly winds helped me as I headed north along Highway 3. The trip towards Champion was of a blur. The need to reach my destination before my anticipated time had me focus more on paddling and my eyes were mostly on the road. From time to time I noticed a lot of eyes were on me when drivers passed me on the highway. Some waved, some stared...
When I reached Champion, I had to head east along Highway 529. I had to say, with the wind blowing it made the trip rather difficult. I made quite a few stops and I was really tired then. Honestly up till this point my legs were starting to cramp up. To press on in such condition proved to be painful. Slowly I cycled through blistering sun and chilling winds. I stopped once in a while to either catch my breath or to rest from the pain on my bottoms. I should have worn my cycling pants after all for long trips like this.
I will never forget to view of the lake around the camp. It was larger than I thought. Approaching from the west, I had quite the distance to cycle. As it slowly looms in the distance I cannot help but noticed the awe and fascination in me I felt when I looked out beyond my tired body. How great is the view... Even a photograph cannot do such wonder justice. One has to be out here exactly how it should be, alone, when through the pain and vulnerability of the body and mind can one see such bliss and peacefulness.
The most difficult part of the trip I have to say is the coulées right before the junction into the camp. A long stretch of road going uphill, though not as steep, but almost as long as whoop up. Right before the climb I made a stop for some food and drink. A couple of two-bite brownies and a couple gulps of water gave me the last bit of strength I need to endure and push through this last trial.
At last when I reached RR212, I stopped and looked back at how far I have come. Tears started to well with no reason. I cannot believe I have reached this far with so little preparation, and so little time. It did took way longer than I expected, but that was no surprise. The last 3km was a race, pushing my way through the rocky pavement and greeted by cows on either side of the road. It was rather amusing to see them as they eyed me when I passed by.
When I reached the drive way of Jeff and Jessica's house I was completely spent. Tears were pouring not from pain, but a relief and joy for the journey. I was greeted with open arms from Jeff.
108km altogether. The reason why I took this route was because of the small towns along the way. Though, hardly any shops were open save one, which I was glad. And to sum this all up it was quite the trip, considering how little I get to prepare. I wish I am able to do this again in the future.
Two-Wheels-and-a-Heart lives on.
