The alarms wake us up to a tough morning. The whole trip experience gets put on hold as I figure out how to get the hot water working in the shower. There was a fine line... if any line at all... getting the temperature where it needed to be to keep from being cooked. I ignore the feeling of defeat and head for the free breakfast with Eddie.
We find a pair of guys donned in some motorcycle gear finishing up their breakfast, obviously the riders whose bikes we parked next to last night. We chat with them for a bit, they're from Alberta area coming back from a trip east. They're familiar with many of the roads we'll be taking so we prod for what information we can get. In return we chat with them about the roads in the Southeast that they are wishing to soon ride in. We wish each other luck on our trips and head out.
Not much out there. A couple hours west of Grand Forks:
Entering Rugby, we saw a sign for the geographical center so we felt obligated to stop. We actually rode right past this and went 5 miles down the road before we realized it was actually in town after all:
We rode like zombies through the dusty prairie area, obviously victims of the day before. The day felt harder to me than usual, I knew it was all in my head but it felt hard to shake. The miles seemed like they took forever, every single one.
We gas up in Westhope for our last stop before entering Canada, passing by a lonely old gas pump long forgotten, before finding the only working gas station in town. Westhope was named after the its slogan of "Hope of the West" which seems appropriate for us. It's a nice small town but I can only think that its name overshadows the town's own relevance, and feels more like ironic presumptuousness nowadays. We take the moment for a snack and water break, to give us a little recharge. The UPS guy who was about to head out stops and talks with us a bit.
He had gone to Alaska just earlier this past year, so he was interested to hear about our trip. He had warned about the construction past Destruction Bay before entering into Alaska, saying it was certainly possible to get through it all but that we needed to be especially careful, that there were sections of loose gravel that made it tricky. He looked at my bike and said I'd probably make it no problem, but just to be careful.
I wasn't to fond of his use of "probably" in his last sentence and started thinking about how subjective the word "tricky" could really be. I wasn't worried much about what we were heading into but there was that deep thought in the back of my mind hoping that the real tough stuff would at least be in Alaska, not before it.
Across the street, one of many grain elevators we would pass through over the next couple days:
We continue on north for the border, and make it in short time. The crossing was really out there, so there was nothing fancy. Just a single guard who asked for our passports and the usual questions about what we're taking in and how long we're staying for. We hadn't gotten a chance to get any Canadian money yet so we asked him where to look for it and continued on our way.
The first 80 miles of Canada were tough. Our route had us cutting the corner of Manitoba (so that I could add that province to my visited list) but the roads we had to ride through were rough and had no soul or flow to it at all. By the time we crossed through into Saskatchewan I had lost focus again and mentally felt I was in a lot of trouble. We were only in day three and somehow I wasn't sure if I could make the pace to get into Anchorage by Sunday, doubting myself and the plans I had made. I don't know what got a hold of me but felt I was losing momentum fast.
What was I doing... how did I get here?
I pushed on into Estevan and stopped at the first gas station I saw. It felt good to get off of the bike. While gassing up a guy in a truck talked to us briefly, and warned that some serious bugs were in our future. We saw the front of his truck, he wasn't kidding. Almost completely covered in bugs. He said it was all from up the road, his truck was clean when he left this morning. Oh boy!
Another quick stop in town to convert American money into Canadian, and to give Tiff a quick call for a progress update. Somehow I felt completely rejuvenated and whatever was messing with my mind earlier was completely gone. With a breath of fresh air in my system, we head out and continue heading west.
The pace was getting much faster despite being on a 2-lane road with limited passing spots. We had to pick our moments getting by the trucks but generally made quick work of them. My concern started focusing on my rear tire as all the slowing down and speeding up made me feel I was putting the tire to a bit of work and wondered if the wear was going to be a factor. Eventually we made our way to the Trans-Canada Highway and really started making up time.
Such a welcoming sight, another province down, and our final stop was not too far away:
We had been fighting the sun again, it was positioned directly in our view of the road and made it really difficult to see. With every semi truck we passed, we would take a short break in its shadow to rest our eyes, then continue on until the next truck we came upon. To make things worse, all the bugs I was killing seemed to make the sunlight brighter on my visor, so even looking away from the sun still proved difficult on my eyes.
We get into Medicine Hat, our final stop for the night, while the sun was still up so it felt like a small victory pulling in at the end of the day, considering the late arrival last night.
We get into the lobby and before asking anything else, we go for the jugular: "Do you guys have a hot tub here?".... silent response... then... "No".
Fuck!
Really disappointing, but it is what it is. No fighting it.
We check out some nearby restaurants and settle for the nearby sportsbar for some burgers. We get back and I mean to work on ride report stuff but was just too tired. I promise myself I'll do it the next day as I get to bed to catch up on sleep.
Eddie and I chat briefly about our schedule for the next day. The plan to ride through Banff and Jasper was seriously in question because we knew it would take us some time to ride through there and it would make for yet another long day. I was a bit bummed we may not be riding through the Icefields Parkway since we were so close, especially because Lake Louis was one of Tiff's bucket list items and if she couldn't be there, I wanted to make a stop there to I could get a picture for her.
We agree to play it by ear depending on how the day goes, set the alarms for a middle-ground time, and pass out.
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