katebakes

So here we are onto the next great adventure. Read about it here.

Tea For Two

Don’t forget to follow Tim’s Crazy Guy on a Bike journal. He is doing more systematic posts of the trip than I am. He spent most of our day off here in Gairloch blogging and I, er, well, I was checking out the insides of my eyelids.
I find myself missing the writing involved in keeping up the blog, but I am not missing the inevitable human-device interface issues. And so I will concentrate on keeping warm and dry and having fun as well.

The Cycling Begins

A week ago Tim and I took the train from Sheffield to Oban, on the west coast of Scotland’s Highland region. The train rides were slick and easy – places for bikes must be reserved ahead and each train has one car with racks for bikes.

First thing the next morning we crossed to the Isle of Mull and began to ride. We chose a longer, scenic route in order to go through the town of Calgary. It was raining of course, and windy, too. The roads went up and then down and then up again – no along! As with cross-country skiing in this type of terrain, it is hard to get a groove going. Well, impossible. It is a test for one’s gearing on the bike, and of course the Rohloff hub with its grip shifter is second to none for quick changes.

Look at how even the English cheapen their own language with short-forms:

First day and I’m already wearing ALL my clothes!

There was a lovely camping spot near the sandy beaches in Calgary, and there we stayed. We hadn’t come very far, but I was ready to stop – this was my first lesson in how cycling distances in Scotland compare to other places I’ve cycled: what with the rain, the wind, and the hills, don’t expect to get very far on a loaded bike!

In Calgary – the rain has taken a break in time for dinner. Notice the groundskeepers hard at work in the background.

The Long Walk

It’s awhile ago now, and seems a little shady in my memory, (things have been conspiring against blog posts getting uploaded – mostly the weather, but I’ll get to that!), but one reason I came to the UK was to meet my new in-laws. And they of course wanted to meet me, maybe so they could continue to wonder why their son/brother has taken leave of his senses and decided to move to Canada.

At any rate, from my end that all went smoothly: everyone seemed normal enough, I didn’t hear any rumours of skeletons in closets, and they all smelled OK!

I was privileged enough to get my grubby little paws on two delightful photos to share with you as well. Needless to say, and Bill Bryson will back me on this, the Brits can laugh at themselves more than we simple North Americans can. And that is good.

Then.

Now.

Tim’s parents live within walking distance of Windsor Castle. It’s a long walk, mind, but on a hot and sunny day (oh, those were the days!), it’s a lovely walk through the Windsor Great Park to see the Queen. I was on a bit of a mission, too. My friend Dennis wanted me to ask the Queen if he could have his money back. She was in, apparently, (one can tell from the flag flying atop the castle – when she’s in the flag says, “The Queen is IN“), but she didn’t want to talk to us, even though Tim changed into his new socks especially for the occasion.

She did, however, let us have one quick photo.

OK, OK, I Finally GET the Whisky Thing

What, no blogging? Here are my reasons (er, excuses):

1. Functioning WiFi is scarce in the highlands of Scotland, at least in the places we frequent. Although, one night we stayed at a “posh” hotel (because it was pouring rain and freezing cold and windy) and their “free” WiFi was so slow we gave up waiting for the BBC weather page to load. A good thing, too, because we may have given up then and there. Or at least I may have.
2. On a three-week tour in a country full of things to see and experience, time is scarce. For instance, my time is spent putting on and off my rain gear alternately with my insulated cold-weather gear, rather than writing pithy prose for your entertainment.
3. Do I need any more reasons than those?

Having said all that, here are some brief observations on cycling in the Highlands of Scotland:

1. It’s windy. I’d recommend training in a wind tunnel with the setting at about 50 miles/hour.
2. It’s hilly. I’d recommend training by cycling across Canada. Go in November to get the full effect.
3. It’s wet. I’d recommend underwater training to test your water-proof gear. And all those cycling clothes you have that you never wear because they’re too hot to cycle in? Perfect for Scotland!
4. This place is crawling with tourists. Pre-book your hostels and B&Bs well in advance, because you can guarantee you’ll need to warm up and dry out on a regular basis.
5. I finally get the whisky thing – that spot of warmth in your belly is the only warmth you’ll get in this place! That doesn’t mean I’ve started drinking whisky (funny, they don’t call it “scotch” here), but I did find some whisky fudge that went down quite nicely!
6. Wild camping in Scotland is legal and accepted. And tenters are more welcome to do it than people in caravans. How cool is that?
7. All coffee and tea is consumed with milk. If you want it black, ask loudly at the time of ordering, and be prepared to be looked at as if very strange.
8. The scenery is lovely and everything is quaint. It’s like we try really hard in North America to make everything we touch so ugly.
9. Lambs are cute and they are walking, baaing advertisements for the many beneficial properties of wool. How else could they be asleep on a wet lump of grass in the freezing cold blowing rainy weather? As an aside, when the sheep seek shelter from the weather, so should you.
10. Holy cow the roads are narrow. Luckily, so are most of the cars. As a cyclist here, one has more of a direct relationship to the people in the cars because of it. We slow for them to pass, they slow for us to pass, and it requires eye contact and most times a wave too. Nice.
11. There are birds here that sound like they belong in a clock. Tim tells me they are cuckoos. They go on incessantly. Do we have them in Canada? I’ve not seen one yet, they must be quite small to fit in those clocks.

That’s all for now, folks! There will be photos and more specific info about our route at some point, I’m sure.

Eastward Ho! (Again)

The eleventh-hour sprawl on the living room floor:

I left Wells yesterday morning at 5:45 am in a blizzard. There was 5 cm of snow on the ground and it was coming down hard. I, of course, had put my summer tyres on my car 2 weeks ago when I thought it might be spring. That was a mistake. (By the way, I can spell “tires” with a “y” now because my husband is British. Just like I can get really excited about hot beverages, and about having them at every opportunity!) I was bound for Calgary, where I get to disturb my brother and his family for two days before I fly over to London to meet up with Tim, meet my new in-laws, and then head north to cycle in the balmy spring weather in Scotland.

In order to go east from Wells one must first go north or south. If you go straight east you will end up in the Cariboo Mountains. And given the amount of snow still in Wells right at the moment, there is sure to be quite a bit more in the higher hills! I drove north to Prince George and then waited there for six hours while my car had some work done to it. Waiting six hours in a town with more than two stores is actually not really a chore for a girl from Wells, so there is a certain sale rack in a certain outdoor store that is now a little skimpier in its offerings. As I was walking back to the car shop in the freezing cold north wind I was happy to have a new down jacket in my bag – from the 40% off rack!

From Prince George I drove east through the north Rocky Mountains in Mount Robson Provincial Park and into Jasper National Park. There was snow, wind, hail, and cold temperatures. Just as you would expect at the end of April. There were road warnings for the Icefields Parkway, the road that heads south from Jasper towards Banff. This, of course was my intended route. Well, only route really, unless I wanted to go hundreds of kms out of my way. The scenery is fantastic and the road was only dicey in a couple of spots where it rises up over 2000 m in elevation near the Athabasca and Bow Glaciers.

I was relieved to get out of the mountains and back down into the relative depths of Highway 1 near Lake Louise and Banff. Driving in winter conditions with summer tyres can only be asking for trouble. Little did I know that there was a total blizzard happening between Canmore and Calgary! The traffic was travelling fairly slowly, the only folks going faster than they should have been were those in pick-up trucks, of course. They are immune to everything, including common sense! I narrowly missed getting squashed by a transport truck at one point. I was glad to get to my brother’s house just after midnight. And boy, will I be glad to get on my bike again. This driving stuff is for the birds!

Equilibrium and Ennui

It’s April in Wells, BC. It’s snowing and wet and muddy and sunny and raining and hailing and muddy and snowing. It SUCKS. Skiing might be OK if it were ever sunny for more than five minutes in a row, and cycling would be good if it weren’t snowing and muddy and wet and snowing and windy. For outdoor pursuits it’s down to running and snowshoeing, really: two sports one only does when there is nothing better and more fun that can be done. I am vowing never to be in Wells for another April. Ever. That’s not to say I’m leaving Wells for good, it’s just that I will be sure to be away for the better part of next April and for the rest of the Aprils after that too. So if you live in a place where the word April is synonymous with “hope” and “spring” and “change” and “new life” and “anticipation of summer warmth”, expect a visit next April.

One fine April day in Wells – The view out my office window into my neighbour’s haven of all things hillbilly. Urg. (That’s “urg” to the weather, not to the haven of all things hillbilly. I kind of like looking at the hillbilly haven. It’s always interesting and ever-changing.)

Now on to more cheerful stuff. There is a tune I heard a few years ago at a little music festival called ArtsWells. (Check out ArtsWells  – Festival of all Things Art. This year is the 10th Anniversary for the festival). I was sitting on the floor of the packed Sunset Theatre listening to BC musician Corwin Fox, when lo and behold, he played a song about cycling. It’s called Equilibrium. I remembered the song, but didn’t see it on any of Corwin’s recordings that year or in subsequent years. I meant to contact Corwin last spring before I left on my trip to ask if I could somehow get a digital copy of that tune. I wanted to make it part of my trip sound track. I guess I was too busy and didn’t get around to it. Coincidentally, last autumn when I got back from my bike trip Corwin played a gig in Wells, and that song was back on his set list! And, his new recording with fellow musician Raghu Lokanathan under the guise of The Chimney Swallows, includes the song. What luck. Now, if I payed money for this blog I could upload the mp3 file for your listening pleasure, but I don’t. So thank goodness for CBC the good. “Equilibrium” by The Chimney Swallows.

To be honest, I don’t really get the lyrics, but I like the sentiment. I’m such an unsophisticated (read lazy) arts consumer. On that note, while you’re there, click on the “Albums” tab and listen to Raghu’s tune “Fucking Genius”. That one I get. It’s right down on my level.

Da, da da DA!

For those of you who followed my blog last summer there is no need to introduce you to TIm, my HUSBAND. My WHAT??? Oh yeah, I’m married. How bizarre. That is certainly something I never thought I would say!

So here’s the story: Near the start of my bike trip last summer, I was in a bike shop in Grand Forks, BC getting a bolt to fix my dodgy stem. I got chatting with another customer, Kim, who told me he and his wife were leaving the following week to start on their own cross-Canada cycling trip. We discussed routes, exchanged cell phone numbers and agreed to try to meet up on the road somewhere. It wasn’t until I was having a long-overdue day off in Forget, Saskatchewan, that we managed to meet up again, and when Kim and Deby rode up in the rain they had this English guy Tim in tow. (I actually forget the details of how they had met up, but for the purposes of this story it doesn’t matter). I was pretty excited to have company – this was just after I had decided to quit when I got to Winnipeg because I was lonely and not having fun. The four of us rode together until Kim and Deby had to go north to Brandon to get bike parts. Tim and I kept riding along the southern route, and we met up with Kim and Deby again in Thunder Bay. I was expecting Tim on any given day to ride off into the sunrise – clearly he was capable of doing many more kms, and more quickly, than I could do each day! But he had six months of holiday time and was in no rush.

Tim and I enjoyed each other’s company and soon settled into a room-mate like existence, albeit in tents, not rooms! And so it went on, you all read or skimmed or pretended to read my blog and maybe Tim’s too last summer, and so I won’t retell all those stories here. Suffice it to say that by the time we had been in Newfoundland for a while it was clear that Tim and I wanted to be more than room-mates.

In the fall after we had both finished our bike trips and Tim was home in Sheffield, England the planning began. He came to visit me here in Wells in late November, and we snowshoed and skied.

Up the Mount Murray trail to the cabin – Tim’s first time on his alpine touring gear.

Me on the up track.

Tim came to visit me again in January and we skied, got married on skis, and skied some more. He was just here in March, too, and guess what we did: we skied! I am over the moon to find someone who is enthusiastic about skiing, even if he is still a bit rusty on the downhill bits!

Skiing in Jasper with my nephew Andrew. Guess who was most nervous about the full slate of Black Diamond runs?

Skiing on Mount Murray, in Wells.

Tim, coming down Mount Murray, after inspecting the bottom of the creek bed.

On the way up to the Mount Murray cabin.

OK, OK, enough with the boring ski photos: here are the ones you’re waiting for. These, too, look like ski photos, but really they are wedding photos.

The wedding party – Yael, Kate, Tim, Jeff, and Jason in the required dress: wool, and more wool.

That was a funny joke. Wait a minute – is this supposed to be a serious thing? (Notice our matching his and hers wooden cross-country skis and bamboo poles – nothing finer!)

Nice legs!  Still in search of the perfect spot for a wedding – a frozen bog beside a frozen creek.

Our intrepid snowshoeing marriage commissioner doing the deed.

Oh boy, this IS getting serious.

Very serious indeed.

Another shot of the gorgeous wedding party. I must say, all my planning on the outfits really paid off. And yes, my hat is made out of socks.

Happily married (so far), skiing off into the sunset!

I have had two people on separate occasions tell me that they and their partners have been inspired by the simplicity of our wedding. I am pleased to inspire people with simplicity. I am not on a quest to see the whole world married, of course, but if more people can marry in more practical ways, then I am all for it! I have always been perplexed by the weird, expensive, showy, complicated, and “traditional” weddings – what does it all mean? And do you know how many pairs of skis you could buy with all that money? Maybe even a bike or two.

Tim and I and our wedding party had a fabulous dinner the evening of our wedding cooked by my friend Sharon at her house here in Wells. We were home by 8:30 (although I do believe I was a tad drunk – Sharon paired some lovely wines with each of our dinner courses). The wedding day photos were all taken by a local photographer, Lynn Connor (Lynn has a new website: http://www.seewhateyesee.ca)

All this to give context to this season’s cycling blog: On May 1 I fly to the UK and Tim and I will cycle in northern Scotland for three and a bit weeks. Hopefully by then they have dug all the sheep out of the snowdrifts. In August Tim and I will take my nephews, aged 8 and almost 6, on a three-day cycling trip on the Kettle Valley Railway in southern BC. And there may be plans afoot to ride through the backroads from Wells to Kamloops in the fall. Stay tuned!

Bike Ski Bike

It was a glorious Easter weekend here in Wells, and the road (yes, there is only one paved road) was clear of snow, ice, water, and most gravel. But what to do? The local ski hill  – Troll Ski Resort – is still open for TWO more weekends, the go-anywhere skate skiing on the bog is at its late-winter prime right now, and there is still at least two months’ worth of snow in the back-country mountains just waiting for us to track it up with skis. How can I forsake my first love, skiing, for my second love, biking, when it is still March? March in Wells is definitely still a skiing month. And at the end of March one has to be prudent with days off: there won’t be many ski days left this season. Don’t get me started on skiing, this is really a BIKE blog after all, but there is NOTHING that beats gliding on snow. Nothing.

All loaded up with skis, boots (one in each pannier), and poles!

All that said, while I was out in the warm spring sunshine taking my trusty touring bike out for its inaugural 2013 spin, I had the great idea to ride to the ski hill with skis strapped to the bike somehow, ski for the day, eat a cinnamon bun, and ride home again. What a great way to be out in the sun after what seems to have been an uncharacteristically grey winter. Of course I wanted to enlist some friends to make the day more fun, but that proved difficult. At the Easter Feaster gathering at my neighbour Judy’s house on Sunday evening (Judy was away for the weekend but her house is the only one large enough to seat 27 people for dinner so that’s where we were!) I managed to convince my favourite ski-buddy Dave to come along. Plans were made for the paparazzi to participate as well, hence all the great photos here!

Dave and I all ready to go – it’s about -5˚C but soon to get a LOT warmer.

On the road.

Dave with a well-loaded back pack. Notice our disregard for staying on the right side of the road – one of the great things about living at the end of the road is that the road isn’t so busy.

In the excitement to leave in the morning I forgot to eat breakfast. I stock up on calories as soon as we get to Troll.

Dave about to try biking with skis on. He quit BEFORE he seriously injured his crotch – smart man.

On the ski lift – we wore our bike helmets all day skiing, and no one said anything! I guess they were all embarrassed for us!

The posse on the way home – Dave and I are joined by Leif and Eva who cycled out from New Barkerville and were able to cycle slow enough to escort us home!

Eva and I just leaving the ski hill on the way home.

Coming down the last hill into Wells, with a smile on my face. It’s a weird feeling when the wind catches your skis and pushes you around when you’re coming down a hill!

Thanks to Dave, Cheryl, Bill, and John for the photos!

Another reason for this ride is this – kick-starting my cycling blog for the season. Tim and I are planning a cycling trip in Scotland in May (that’s SOON). We are going to ride around the north coast, from the west in a clockwise direction. We hope to get to the Orkney and Shetland Islands as well. I am very excited about it. Watch this space.

Oh, and I have a few things about Tim to reveal here as well. Later.

Mountain Caribou

Steamy Mountain Caribou on the Barkerville Highway, November 2012

Here is something else I can expound on, without actually knowing any facts. The area I live in here in BC is called “Cariboo”, so named for the throngs of these beasts roaming around here back in the day. (Don’t ask me about the spelling, apparently, like all colonizers, the white folks were rude when they first arrived and didn’t ask the caribou how to spell their name). Now, well, there aren’t so many caribou. The Barkerville Herd, as the local herd is called, has an estimated 50 animals, and that is well below what is deemed necessary for a herd to be sustainable.

Steamy Mountain Caribou on the Barkerville Highway, November 2012

These are Mountain Caribou, mind, not nearly as plentiful as their cousins, the northern types (Barren-land, Peary’s, and Porcupine Caribou), and are much more sensitive to environmental change. Or maybe not more sensitive to environmental change, it just so happens that their preferred habitat is being rendered non-existent by logging. They like to eat lichen, and in the winter time, the only lichen available is hanging on trees. The rest is buried under many metres of snow. Usually the lichen is on older trees, the kind that we like to cut down and saw into boards which we then use to build sheds to house our snowmobiles. And so, not many caribou are left. But there seem to be plenty of snowmobiles.

Steamy Mountain Caribou on the Barkerville Highway, November 2012

Caribou are the same beasts as reindeer, the common names are different according to continent: “reindeer” in Europe (and Asia?) and “caribou” in North America. I guess that proves that the North Pole is part of Europe, but don’t tell the Canadians that.

Eight cariboo near Stanley on the Barkerville Highway, April 2013