Of Spirits and Giants_Day 3

Dinner on Day 2, the previous evening was supposed to be delivered by a local restaurant, but due to labor shortages in the rather isolated Crows Nest region, the restaurant was unable to fulfill its order. This order had been placed weeks before by our Ride Director Sharon Cowdery.

Ride Director Sharon Cowdery

The restaurant called and left Sharon a voice mail in her office in Seattle that morning but unfortunately Sharon was with us dealing with the broken haul truck all day. So without missing a beat Sharon went to the store and bought cooked chickens, bratwurst to BBQ and pasta and sauce fixings. Sharon and the other members of our ride crew, David and Nick cooked up a great dinner. An after dinner drink of Jim Beam Sour Mash Whiskey was shared by some of the riders as a night cap; ideal in the cold air of the mountains.

The Lost Lemon Campground is conveniently located within 100 yards of the Canadian-Pacific Railroad and with the rail crossing to get into the campground located just as close by, we were serenaded by the whistle of the train several times in the night, or so I was told; I only heard it once. Liquid sleep aids can work wonders, especially if you are really tired.

The morning, which seemed warm in camp, quickly proved to be chilly once I was on the road so I put on my arm and knee warmers; the day was starting out slightly overcast. Not far outside of Blairmore is the town of Frank. At the turn of the last century Frank was a mining town and on the morning of April 29, 1903. The mine was located at the base of the a mountain. Without warning a massive section of the limestone mountain spontaneously broke off in a giant landslide; over 70 million cubic meters! The slide was over a kilometer wide and came down and leveled the mining operation and more than half of town; more than 70 people were killed. In order to get the railroad working a path was blasted through the slide. (Sorry no pics as camera battery died.) Today the highway goes right through slide which today is the dominant feature of the town, along with the giant scar on the mountain. It is kind of eerily freakish to see the rock slide with giant boulders still were they fell over a hundred years ago and know that the dead still lie under them not far away and it was not even mile ten on the days ride. Who knows what else I might find?

The mountains had been surrounding us in all directions for the last two days. As we continued our ride and we moved away from the Crows Nest region. It became clear that we were on the east side of the continental divide. This far north snow is still on many of the mountains peaks and it had snowed as recently as three weeks ago. The early morning light, combined with wind swept clouds and the distant mountains made for an incredibly lonesome and beautiful view-scape. The mountains in the West were giving way to an elevated, rolling plateau. These were the lands that the Blackfeet, Salish and Kootenai and Blood Indians lived and hunted in. These mountains were and are home to the crow, bear and wolf; spirit guides and power animals to these people. Looking at these mountains in the distance, as I listened to the single sound of my tires rolling over the cold pavement, I could feel the power that this land emanates as clearly as I feel the heat from the sun that had only just finally broken through the mists of the morning. I rode on.

Leaving The Crows Nest

The ridding terrain for the morning had been relatively flat and it went by quickly. As we continue to ride, an entire range of new peaks came into view. Unlike the mountains that have been on all sides of us in the past days, the peaks arising in the distance are all lined up on a common axis running from the South-East to the North-West. The Blackfeet people say that the mountains in Glacier are “The backbone of the world” and it is easy to see why.

With the plateau came planted fields of hay and alfalfa. Tractors pulling combining rigs were cutting down the grass; large bailing units rolled the grass in to large rolls for winter storage. The ferocity of the weather in this part of the world is famous: the open, high plateau is subject to a great deal of wind. So it was not surprising that wind power is becoming a choice source of electrical generation here in the Great White North. Tri-bladed wind mills stood some 100 feet high. Massive blades, each 35 feet long spinning almost silently and the central hub of the propeller assembly looking like a Cyclops of some kind; an army of these technological giants, seemingly marching on the great green pastures. What kind of spirit animals might the Blackfoot people made of these imposing white creatures. All the while the ancient Backbone of the World towered above in the near distance. The dichotomy of what was on this rolling plane was overwhelming: The new, the old and the ancient all within sight of each other and in apparent cohabitation. I rode on.















Western Silhouettes with windmills in background; The New, the Old and The Ancient; Giants on the high plateau.

We came to the town of Pincher Creek as we turned on to Canada Highway 6 and we came upon another behemoth: Wal Mart. Finding a Wal Mart was good news because the battery in my camera had died and one of my ride colleagues needed a new camera altogether. Some of us stopped and had lunch at an A&W, which was a treat for the Seattle folks who do not have A&Ws; sweet A&W Root Beer and a burger, not exactly the best energy food for cycling but mighty tasty none-the-less.

From Pincher Creek we turned West and began an ascent of some 2000 feet over 25 miles on our way to Waterton Lakes Park, the Canadian Half of the Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park which celebrates the over 3000 miles of border between Canada and the United States; the longest undefended border in the world. As we turned towards the Back Bone of the World the individual peaks became larger and more distinct. With each rise we ascended, another taller one would take its place until at last we came to the town of Twin Buttes. Barely more than a few houses, a post office and most importantly, the Twin Buttes General Store and Restaurant: It was one of the funnest lunch stops on our ride (yes, another lunch stop, same day). The restaurant is a surprisingly authentic in its feeling and apperance as a ‘South of the Border’ eatery. I was so impressed by its menu, its atmosphere, the food and the outdoor courtyard seating made of desert construction materials seating, that I came to call it the “Furthest North, South of the Border Café” that I had ever been in. We drank beer, had great entrees, laughed, met another bicyclist who also happened to be a viola player for Hollywood sound tracks, and generally relaxed for an hour or more. Had we not be riding our bikes the margaritas no doubt would have flowed… Ai Carumba!

Left: Enjoying Mexican food in Twin Buttes, Canada are Tony Sleva, Mike Kelly, myself, Jim Williamson Lloyd Warms and others. Right: Mike and Gail Williamson, Lloyd Warms and Susan Kloster.

Back on the road I came to our last check point for the day; a place where we touch bases with the ride staff to ensure our safety and progress. It was at an over look to the approach to Waterton Lakes Park. The view here, like most of the views today was breath taking and I paused to celebrate being in such a beautiful place.

Celebrating the Day

Some of you have inquired about my bicycle:I am riding a Fuji Professional 3.0 road bike, 27" rims, 53 cm all carbon frame with with a triple front chain rings, 9 speed cassette. The entire drive is Shimano Ultegra, except the ATI shifters which are Shimano Tiagra. I have a Velocity 'Deep-V' wheel set with 32 spokes, in a triple cross weave pattern for high strength. Oh yeah, I have single pinger brass bell to let the world know I'm coming.

We stopped refilled our water bottles and took some pictures of our now not so distant destination…or so we thought. As we rode down a large sweeping curve we were met with THE most obnoxious head wind of the ride and for most of us, in our entire riding experience. It felt like I was floating on a parachute slowly to the ground instead of flying down the hill at 25 miles an hour. The wind in fact turned out to be the front edge of a thunder storm that was passing over the park. We rode through it for 10 miles and an hour and half. The wind must have been 20 mph+ and cold too. It rained, hailed on our camp and threw lightening at the top of the peaks in the park and in an hour it was clear.

Finally, we arrived at our campground in the Waterton townsite, an area of private homes located on public lands in a National Park. Ask me later if you are curious how that came to be. We would spend a rest day here to relax, enjoy the park, and recuperate for a short while.