The "it's not skiing" post pictures.

I posted those pictures when I had a brief moment of WiFi, but didn't have time to put any text into the blog. Careful observers will note that we are on top of a ski mountain.  Kimberley, in fact. I am going to talk about that in  a minute but when the time comes, you can go back to that post and examine the evidence.

You will have to trust me that there are mountain goats in this picture. 

We were travelling late when we came over Gray Creek Pass. Plus, we lost an hour in the time zone change and we're subsequently saddled with "bike lag" (it is like "jet lag" only, on motorcycles). Since the campgrounds are a big distance apart, we look for a place to free camp along Redding Creek or St Mary's River. But it is past 9:30 pm. We are tired and hungry and sweaty and dirty. We are riding all over at the point where Redding Creek joins St Mary's River and are struggling to find something suitable but it is either too far from water, lumpy, scary or mosquito-infested. In fact, we finally settled on a spot and while we would  normally set up tents first we elect to throw a rope over a tree to hang the food first so that we will  be able to see what we are doing.  However, the mosquitoes are so bad we are both suffering blood loss and may need transfusions so we bail out and camp in an area that has been cleared in the not-too-distant past. It's not smooth so we end up pitching our tents directly on a road where it IS smooth. We built a fire on the road too but to give you an idea about the lateness, we start to pitch our tents at 11:00 pm. We almost bailed on the notion of a fire because it was so late and we were so tired but there was a lot of good wood around and I knew we would feel better having something to eat even if we had a small fire.

The next morning, we are on the road by 9:15 am, fully two (or more) hours sooner than our usual. And, we have been up since 7 and have not cooked breakfast or made coffee. Not sure who is stealing our time.

So we are hankering for coffee by the time we get to Kimberley. We actually find a nice coffee shop that makes great lattes (!) and Phil has two breakfasts. This morning, being the long weekend, there is a festive atmosphere: people are getting their faces painted, there is a hospital bed race and a rubber ducky race on the creek that goes through town. I can't believe Greenpeace isn't in attendance. I am not accustomed to seeing this much activity here; my last few times through town, I thought it had one foot in.the grave and the other on a banana peel.

The plan is to ride the back roads back to Radium, where we are to be met by Tom, who is driving down from Edmonton to collect us. We get out there and in short order, are challenging many different routes trying to find the one that will take us to Ta Ta Creek, about half way to Skookumchuck. (No, I am NOT using inappropriate language. Those are actual town names.)

We meet this old codger on what could best be described as a scooter, or maybe a mini bike. It looks like a scooter, only smaller and probably has an engine that is 50 or 100 cc. It makes me think of the motorbikes used by the Shriners when they are in parades.  They fellow has a plastic milk carton riding at his feet and it is full of stuff - junk, I think and it is not clear to me if it is stuff he is picking up as he goes or if it is stuff he drags around with him. We can't believe he is riding around on gravel roads; the wheels look like they are about six inches in diameter. He is very excited to talk to us and I wonder if he is lost. Or has lost his marbles but I think he is just interested in company. And he can talk! We should introduce him to Dale, though I think Dale would be shocked at the language. We hear about his school bus where he is camped and later, when we see it, we conclude that it is probably where he keeps his college co-eds locked up because he looks a little like a hoarder.

He is not much help in suggesting a route but when we tell what we are doing, he announces he will follow us. Phil asks him what is the range of his ride but the guy doesn't know because he just bought the bike the day before. We say that it probably wouldn't be much fun following us because we will be going faster and he would end up riding in a cloud of dust. We actually saw him later (since we weren't finding the route) and he indeed looked like he was tailing us. We also found a smattering of items that we presumed fell out of his milk carton, like a rubber glove and a tie strap.

Well, we weren't having much luck this day. On the Spotwalla, it's a gong show but it is not entirely our fault. We stopped one time to re-examine the map and when we rode away, Phil failed to put his reading glasses away. Shortly thereafter, we stopped to admire a grand view overlooking Kimberley. In fact, despite our appearing to be many kilometers away, we actually passed a sign indicating that we were inside the Kimberley city limits and that we should not discharge our firearms. Good thing we saw that warning.

Phil immediately turned around to go retrieve his glasses and I snapped a few pictures before following him, though I think he was secretly worried the codger would find his way up there and hoard them. When I arrived on the scene, Phil was talking with a guy on a yellow quad, Blair, from Cranbrook. I was a little concerned because Blair had a gun case on his quad and I always thought the hunting season was in the fall but I kept my mouth shut for fear of upsetting him, and then learning what the gun was for.

Blair is just riding around, by himself, in the hills. Phil explains that we are in search of the Holy Grail, the lost passage between two points on a map and Blair tells us that it is possible to bypass a gate across one road or that there may even be a key hidden there. The gate is less than fifteen minutes from where we are talking but NO, Blair knows a shortcut and he will take us. So Blair leads us down a trail, which runs out and he just drives right into bushes. I am third in line so I can't tell if Blair is following someone else's tracks or if be is making them up as he goes, but it is rough riding. He also makes sharp, 90 degree turns over ledges and rises which are difficult to negotiate on two wheels, fully loaded. However, this is another one of those spots where I was able to stay upright whereas earlier in the trip, I likely would have gone over.

Blair leads us to two cement dividers, like you would see on the side of the road to prevent you from going over the edge and falling a thousand feet, but they are in the bush.  Alas, it opens up on the other side of the barrier and we are at Kimberley ski resort. It is technical riding but no powerline, so I am OK.  When we get to the top of The Triple Chair, we stop to take in the view and some pictures. It is a strange juxtaposition to be on a ski hill on motorbikes and I could not help but wonder how the operators would feel about it, in particular, as I suspect the barrier was for people like us. Once we have had a look around, we press on but now we are going downhill on what feels like a double black but is probably a solid green. It is clear to us that Blair is driving with a little less confidence because he is stopping more and surveying the terraine,  seemingly trying to pick the best route. After some time of this, I think Blair realizes that he has no idea where to take us and all of a sudden, he can't get rid of us fast enough. We are heading down the slope and it looks an awful lot like we are going to end up right in the business area of the ski hill, in amongst the maintenance crews, administration, lifties who are operating one of the lifts and probably, the police.

We get an extensive but vague explanation where we should go and then Blair is gone like a shot. I'm thinking, if Phil retained any of those directions, it would be a miracle.

No miracle. I say to Phil that we need to review the plan because CTwe literally spent three hours in the hills above Kimberly only to return to Kimberley, though Phil elects to not stop for one more breakfast. The revised plan is to ride the pavement to Premier Lake, just south of Canal Flats and take Palliser FSR back to Radium.