Lost one on day one

Arrival at the Dry Gulch provincial campground in Radium was uneventful though we were back and forth on whether there would be many campers. Originally,  I had expected it to be busy being a weekend so we had all discussed it and decided to get an early start Saturday morning. We actually left my place about 9:30 am which was the function of getting the bikes loaded and tied down but it was all good. Then, on the way, it didn't look like many campers so we were a little less stressed about it, which worked out because we only had until 5:00 pm to check in at the place where we were storing the truck and trailer in Inveremere. Turns out it was a close call because even driving  straight there, we arrived at 4:50 pm. So we got the truck logged into the system then drove back to Radium to find a tent site. It turns out there were only 3 sites left otherwise, we would have ended up at the better-appointed but more densely packed Red Streak in the national park. But it's all good. Once securing a spot, we unloaded, set up our tents then went back to the storage place to drop off the truck and trailer. From there we went to Inveremere to find a bite to eat and hopefully, find some place where Tom could find a mess kit which somehow got overlooked. Given that it was 8:00 pm, it was not really a surprise that no place was open to find stuff like that. Inveremere is a quaint mountain tourist town right on the lake. Like a few other towns in the valley, there is a stong European influence to give it some added charm, if not bordering slightly on tacky. However, there were fewer restaurants there from my recollection and of the few there, fewer were open. Three, that we could see: in the Best Western, a Middle Eastern place and a "Chinese" restaurant. (I know - not very European). We were not inspired but ostensibly there was a Bavarian restaurant on the highway so we opted to check it out. The building is totally European inspired  - it looks like it has been picked up in the Alps and dropped intact on Hwy 93 south: white with wood beam framing and paintings of scenes from The Sound of Music or some such gracing the front. Inside,  more of the same. All the waitresses were wearing frocks of blue and white, lots of lace and what may have been push-up bras, though I am just making an assumption here. And, it appears that the staff meals must be a steady diet of potatoes and spaetzel. There is a gentleman in equally  European garb - white lace and  Knickerbockers, high socks and the whole  nine yards - who was providing the entertainment, which was ringing some bells along with pre-recorded music, or strumming a guitar with pre-recorded music. And he also did the little dance where he jumped around and touched his heels back and forth. I think he was at least 80. But  a SPRY 80. Dinner was amazingly good and we all had lots including dessert. Not that we needed it but dinner was so good we couldn't help ourselves. I had wanted to get a picture of the entertainer (for your benefit) but he escaped  before we finished dinner. On Sunday morning, we were back to Inveremere so Tom could get a mess kit, a new tent that was "adult" sized and breakfast. Also, some tools to tighten his chain. Breakfast, much to my dismay, was A&W however, in a pinch, it will generate a reasonable facsimile of food. My last time at an A&W was on last year's Alaska bike trip when faced with a limited selection but again, I somehow expected more in Invermere. The one cute bakery place was closed Sundays and the one cafe with the sign tantalizing us with an invitation for lattes didn't show too much sign of life. Bacon and eggs at A&W it is but instead of paying $20 each, we paid six. On the road and filling up with gas in Radium and we were on our way before 11:30. That's "a.m.", for the record. Logistically, there is a lot to sort out for a trip of this type: packing a week's worth of food and gear, lots of gas for long stretches between gas stations, maps, camping equipment, cameras and emergency gear like a tow rope, sign all in devices etc. Some of us are better at it than others but we all experienced some mishaps on the first day. I lost my two "dry sacks" at one point. These are bags for canoeing; they are made of a durable rubberized material that fold and role at the opening and then clip so that if they fall in the river, water will have a pretty hard time finding a way inside. These are also perfect for motorcycling because on occasion, we get rain. Mine contain my sleeping bag, tent, mattress and rain suit; all stuff that pretty much ruins my day if it gets wet. Apparently it was starting to hang so.ewhat precariously from the passenger seat and Tom was frantically trying to catch my attention (to stop, as opposed to just clowning around) but alas, the two bags self jettisoned. Phil lost his water bag, which dangled from his top case for long enough that by the time I got him to stop, the only thing left was the spout. Tom didn't actually drop gear but his stuff was pretty top heavy (such as now he is carrying two tents) so there may have been an issue keeping his bike on its stand. Nonetheless, it seemed like we were stopping to adjust every ten minutes or check the map. OK before I get into the REAL story of the day, let me just we are riding in some stunningly beautiful country. You can see on the Spotwalla where we are located so I won't name all the roads but we entered on Settler's Road in Kootenay National Park and we followed the valley south along the Palliser River. The fact that it is a Sunday may be contributing to the lack of commercial traffic (I. E. Logging trucks) but for the most part oncoming traffic is few and far between. This is a mixed blessing because typically, the odd person driving out here isn't looking too hard for other traffic so they drift across the road around corners or have a nap while driving. But we only see 3 other vehicles  (until a little later). In the mean time, we are enjoying the views of the surrounding mountains as the road in places is carved out of the side of a hill and careening literally a metre or two from the river. It is stunning stuff and as we are bombing along I am thinking that this is like a marriage of two great activities: back packing and motorcycling. Back packing can get more remote but this is not too bad because we are camping where there aren't too many others. Last night and tonight, we are just camping in a meadow beside the forestry road. And motorcycling - well, we get that bit of an adrenalin rush. We are bombing down the road. It is later in the afternoon than we would like and we are starting to think about how far we have to go and that it is past 4 pm. Maybe it's past 5. Phil is in the lead and he is probably a minute ahead of us, which is a long way. That's OK,  Phil likes to ride faster than me and I can only go at the speed I feel save.  Both Phil and Tom are much more experienced riders than me so they can can ride their pace, though Tom usually follows so that he can babysit me. I am ahead and Tom is visable in my rear view mirrors. We are rounding a corner to the left and the gravel is loose so I apply the brakes going into the curve. As I am through, I glance in my rear view mirror just in time to see Tom lose control of his bike and cross over the outer shoulder. It is heavily treed on both sides of the road but on the outer edge of the curve, the drop is easily 100 feet to the river. I quickly turn back and race to the spot where I think Tom has gone over but I can't see any sign. I'm off the bike in a heartbeat running up and down the road calling his name but there is no tell-tale broken  branches or trees or even obvious trails in the gravel to suggest where he might be. Now I'm wondering if I'm at the wrong spot, that maybe he is farther back and for a moment I start to panic. I'm calling his name looking for evidence and wondering also if he is at the bottom and I just can't see him. I don't know how long this went on. Seconds probably but it seemed interminable. Then Tom calls out to me. He is farther ahead than where I was looking, at the side of the road and he is hurt. I rush over and his bike is down the steep slope ten, maybe twelve feet. The rear fender is caught on a tree which has kept the bike from falling much further. Tom is a little dazed, in mild shock, has a nasty puncture in his left arm, his right hand is swelling and some fingers are storm-coloured. Tom has dragged himself up the slope to the side of the road. He told me later that he could hear me calling to him but was too winded to respond. He tries to stand but stumbles, then manages get on his feet so that I can sit him back down again. That's the shock. He is in pain but unsure anything is broken. Maybe some fingers, maybe some ribs but maybe not. After a few minutes, I'm looking at his bike wondering how we would get it out. We are not going to get it out with all his gear on it so I slide down the slope to detach it and  bring it up to the road. It is awkward because Tom has all his stuff latched on with bungee cords, which are trapped under the bike. Plus, it is quite steep so I am having to hang on to something while I try to extricate the bungees.  It seems stable enough; the tree holding it is healthy and about an inch or more in diameter but nonetheless, I don't want to be below the bike in case it gives way and falls further with me under it. Eventually, I am able to get stuff off but wow - those bags were heavy. It was awkward to get them to the top because I had to find hand holds on the way. Once everything was at the top we just waited a few minutes for Phil to return. He had had a good lead on us so he would not even realize there was a problem for several minutes. Plus, the first course of action is to just wait for the stragglers to catch up. It is only when they don't show up after a few minutes that somebody would turn around. When he returned, we discussed strategy. I think we are going to have to call a tow truck; the nearest one would be Fernie, about 30 km away. Phil thinks somebody would be able to pull it up the slope with their truck but we only have six feet of tow rope. We have been passing some campers and maybe two km back a couple are camping by the river with their two dogs so Phil rides back to see if they have something we could use to get Tom's bike out. No luck but when Phil returns, there has actually been some traffic. It turns out that we are not really that far from civilization; the frementioned Fernie to the east and Wadna and Jaffray to the south about 45 km. That is close enough that people can come this far "just for a drive". Once such person was Tyler, who was out flying around in his Razer - a Polaris 4x4 atv-type vehicle with a canopy and two seats side by side, except that he has taken the passenger seat out and built a platform for his pit bull cross Norman. Norman is a very nice dog and is very excited to see people standing around because almost certainly, one of them would throw a stick for him. Good work, Phil. Tyler is a very upbeat person and is excited to help out because that is just the kind if guy he is. Plus, be is completely bombed, tbough still somewhat coberent. And i mean that in the kindest possible way. Then a pickup towing a camper on a pick up bed (yes, you read that right) pulled up and stopped and a gal with quite a lot of jewellery in her face jumped out and right behind behind her vehicle, a friend with a gal pulling quite a large trailer pulled up. Nobody seems to have a single, long cable or tow rope to reach the bike but if we find something, Tyler is determined to try to pull the bike up with his atv.  But, Phil has a tow rope about 8 feet long and the guy in the truck has some harnesses we can attach together to reach the bike.  Phil and I scramble down to the bike; Phil attaches the tow rope to the front strut ("shock absorber") and we are going to try to stand the bike so that Tyler's atv can pull it up without more damage. With tension on the rope, Phil and I are able to get the bike upright but it is in gear, so by hand, Phil is able to get it in neutral. At that instant, the rope lets go from the atv and Tom's bike is falling down the slope with Phil below it. They slide 8 or ten feet and the bike jams Phil in the back and now he is pretty uncomfortable. And we are well out of reach of the road with our existing collection of ropes. It is a other very close call. It could have  been a situation having gone from bad to worse. So we abandon that attempt. Tyler takes off and promises to send help if he comes across someone with better gear. We discuss possibilities and then so.eone comes along and slows down enough for us to get him to stop. It was a couple in a big pick up truck and they must have been on their first date because the gal was in her full make-up. Anyway, we ask them if they will take Tom and his gear up the road a few kilometers where we saw a good place to camp. When we get Tom loaded, Phil and I agree that I will accompany Tom and he WI wait around for a half hour for somebody else that might be able to get Tom's bike up the slope. It will be a task because it is  to down about five meters and the slope is about 35 degrees. I get go meet Tom and there is someone in the spot where he has been dropped and they are "free camping". It is a lovely spot on the river and they are keeping an eye on Tom. He is going to be OK but he is still.bleeding somewhat and I think he is over the shock. Then Tyler shows up and tells me that there is someone with a whinch to pull up the bike and to get back right away.  By the time I got there,  Tom's bike was on the road. Phil and I towed it back to the campsite with Tyler's help.  I'll end it there be caused the ferry is about to dock.