The Great Canadian Cycling Adventure
Across Canada by Bicycle in the Tour du Canada 2000
Welcome > Prologue > Coast Mountains
Prologue: We are where we are because we got here.
Day
-2: June 26 - Enroute to Vancouver
"We
are where we are because we got here." One of the many Yogi Bera'isms that
seems to sum up life quite well provides cause for reflection.
Looking out the window of the plane, I can see the northern shoreline of
Lake Superior and the beautifully tormented Canadian Shield of hills, lakes and
rock stretching out to the north. I'm
outbound from Toronto to Vancouver for the start of a journey of a lifetime.
Earlier
this morning at the airport, C and I hugged goodbye for the summer.
The song "See you in September" can't possibly catch the sudden
feeling of dislocation as we parted. The feeling persisted as I entered the
impersonal airport security gate, leaving C to a long lonely drive home.
Although we'd be in touch through the summer, we might not see each other again
for ten weeks -- a very long time to be apart.
In that time, I plan to join a group of 23 others, whom I've never
met, and cycle from Vancouver to St. John's -- a journey of some 7,500 km
over 66 days. This is my summer adventure.
The Tour du Canada 2000.
"Because
we got here" is perhaps not so simple after all. How do I, one week from my 48th birthday, with two artificial
hips, a retired runner and triathlete, a longtime and sometimes competitive
masters swimmer, a father of two teenage daughters, with a best friend and life
partner in C, find myself setting out for an odyssey across Canada by
bicycle with a group of strangers? Partly,
it's a trip I've wanted to do for many years.
Partly, it's a lucky confluence of family and work situations that allows
the time this year, and partly, with thanks to the orthopaedic team at London
Health Sciences Centre, it's an opportune window of physical health.
I guess Warren Miller, snowriding filmaker extraordinaire, says it best
in each of his 50 years of film, "If you don't do it this year, next year
you'll be one year older."
So
here I sit riding a plane in a five hour journey to Vancouver.
To retrace this distance will take me six weeks by bicycle, with another
three and a half to Signal Hill in St. John's. But the journey really started a
long time ago. When younger I enjoyed a physically active lifestyle, until
sidelined by osteoarthritis, leading to both hips being replaced, the last one
in the summer of 1998. Last summer
I bought a road bike, intending not only to stay strong and healthy, but to
recapture the joy of cycling the hills and countryside around Waterloo after
missing it for nearly 15 years. Then,
in a stroke of cyberluck, last fall I discovered the Tour du Canada website.
Captivated by the idea of fulfilling a boyhood dream, I read,
investigated and dreamed. Finally I decided that if I didn't act, next year I'd
be one year older, and no closer to living that dream.
The
preparation took nearly a year -- a year of planning the absence from work which
would use up vacation credits saved much too long, a year of rebuilding my
cycling endurance, and a year to help my family get used to the idea at least
enough to support my quest. Through
the winter there were lots of boring hours on my bike on a trainer in the
basement. My training logs says
that I started training outside on February 25 in 10C weather.
Over the four months since then, I logged just over 3,100 km in
conditions ranging from wind and rain at 6C, to 30C heat, with several rides at
distances from 100 km to 164 km, and several back-to-back 100+ km days following
four or five continuous training days. I
regained my love of speed on a bicycle; there's nothing quite like spinning
along in the cool, still morning air in the rolling countryside, with a trace of
mist blurring the hills and valleys in the distance.
Having
put this journal aside for a couple of hours, I pick it up again after looking
outside as we fly over Cranbrook and Kimberely, and then Kootenay Lake.
We fly over the Rockies, the Purcells and the Monashee ranges.
These mountains are as spectacular as the prairies underneath an hour ago
are vast. Now I'm starting to feel anxious -- this is an intimidating venture
for sure! As we passed over
Cranbrook I thought of L, my oldest daughter, attending the College of the
Rockies, and teaching kids to build websites as a summer job.
I hope we can meet up as we ride through Golden in a week or so.
A glance at my watch reminds me that my younger daughter R has by now
finished her grade 12 math exam, and is out for the summer.
As the Lillooet Range comes into view, as big and scary as the Rockies, I
think of R's summer of sailing and racing -- one of her dreams coming true. We all have dreams, but we don't all have the opportunity to
chase them. Some of us are truly
lucky.
Now
over the Lillooet Range and beyond I can see the Fraser Valley -- gateway into
Vancouver as we start our descent. Off in the distance to the south Mt Baker and the other peaks
of the Cascade Mountains, all deeply snowcapped, dominate the horizon as we drop
into the valley. This short ride is
over; the big ride is getting closer.
Motivation
is a curious thing. The prospect of
being another year older without doing this, the feeling of needing to capture
this summer while my hips are solid, the support of friends, family and work
colleagues -- all conspire to say this is right. Yet, it's still intimidating.
I'm physically ready, and I know that the physical challenge is 90% of
the trip. However, the other 50% of
the challenge is psychological. There
will be cold, rain, hail, heat. There
will be glorious days of tailwinds and tough days of headwinds.
There will be new friends. And,
there is a personal journey to accomplish; after all, the journey itself, not
the final ride up Signal Hill, is the goal.
To see a ribbon of life in Canada, from one coast to the other, is truly
Alan's Great Summer Adventure.
Day
-1: June 27 - Rest Day in Vancouver
Yesterday
afternoon was spent exploring UBC's beautiful campus a bit, unpacking and
sorting everything out, and reassembling my bicycle. Thankfully, everything went back together the way it's
supposed to, the derailleurs seem to be aligned and running smoothly, and the
wheels survived the packing and airline baggage handling, and still run true. That's a big concern out of the way, especially as I don't
have any spare spokes, having had them on backorder through Ziggy's, my bike
shop, for a month already.
Last
night about ten of us went out to a local pub for dinner.
Several of us commented that the easy going relationships and friendships
that are beginning to form already are a good sign.
There is a common something that runs in all of us -- likely the
adventure seeking spirit showing a bit. A
few of us sit up for a couple of hours, watching a brilliant sunset over the
Strait of Georgia (see picture right) and pondering the vagaries of life that brought us together
here.
This
morning dawned bright and very early -- one of the curses of still being on
Eastern Daylight Time. After
breakfast, Karl, Jon and I set out to explore Vancouver by bicycle.
We racked up an easy 46 km exploring the bikeways around False Creek and
Stanley Park (see pictures below), and the length of Robson from the Park to Burrard St.
Vancouver in sunny weather is a beautiful place.
The landscaping is lush, people are out and friendly, and the beaches,
walkways and inline skating trails are busy.
After
getting back, a few minutes are spent readjusting a few things on my bicycle,
and then I head off to the UBC Aquatic Centre for a swim workout.
After a couple of thousand metres, I'm refreshed, relaxed and ready for
dinner. The only problem is that
I'm still on home time and dinner's a couple of hours away.
The
trucks that will accompany and support each group of cyclists are in the parking
lot of the residence. Those leaving tomorrow are busy stowing their gear away, and
getting ready to make dinner using the truck's kitchen facilities.
These are big trucks -- about 2.5 m wide and about 9 m long.
The truck body is divided in two: the front portion with a side door is
divided with shelves into cubbies for storing personal gear.
The rear of the truck is outfitted with space for storing the bike
workbench, the propane stove, foodstuffs, two fridges, and everything else we'll
need to live on the road for nearly 10 weeks.
Brook, our driver, is busy with last minute outfitting, and we get a
chance to chat for a few minutes before digging back into the tasks at hand.
There
are three groups in Tour du Canada this year.
One group left last week and is taking an extra week to cross Canada.
There are two groups leaving this week -- one on the 28th, and the group
I'm in, leaving on the 29th. More
of my group members arrived this afternoon, and we gather to go out for dinner.
At that point, my traveling companions included Keith and Isabelle from
Cookstown ON; Carol, Dave, John and Karin from London ON; Jon from Toronto; Karl
from New Hampshire; Craig from Wellington, New Zealand; and Kelly from Ottawa.
Our group numbers 23, so there are more to come.
Tomorrow will be our group briefing, packing the truck, a group dinner
using the truck's facilities, one last evening at the pub, and one final night
in a real bed.
This evening, talking to some members of the group ahead of us, the excitement builds. I wish I were cycling out with them tomorrow morning, instead of having to wait another day.
Day
0: June 28 - Briefing Day
Today
dawns with a clear blue sky once again; surely the record for consecutive sunny
days must be surpassed or at least seriously challenged by now.
Today is briefing day. We're
all here -- 23 individuals of all ages, sizes and places we call home.
Some are obviously serious cyclists, and others are very much at the
recreational end of the spectrum. As
we gather for the briefing and introduce ourselves to those not already met,
it's clear that there are as many reasons for being here as there are
individuals.
Bud,
the Tour organizer, takes us through everything we can expect to see and
experience along the way, and the routines we'll participate in on a daily
basis. For galley duty, I'm teamed
with Karin from London, Jules from Boston, and Daphne from Edmonton who's with
us only as far as Calgary. Daphne
completed the Tour a couple of years ago, and has come back to cycle the
mountain stretch again. We get a thorough tour and explanation of
the truck, it's contents and the daily routine in camp.
The afternoon is spent listening to Bud describe what to expect along the
route day by day -- the different areas, people, local features and so on.
After
the briefing, Karin, John, Craig, Jeff and I ride deep into downtown Vancouver
for last minute bicycling supplies and to allow Karin to get some last minute
repairs. We've visited three
bicycle stores in two days, and at each one, when we explain what we're about to
do, we get tons of questions and great service.
We also visit Mountain Equipment Co-op for those who need a few last
minute camping supplies. By the
time we get back, we've missed the "first dinner" out of the truck, so
we form our own team and make another. Somehow
the simple fare of salad, pasta and chunky tomato sauce seems much better than
it deserves to be, given the effort and ingredients we put into it.
Following
dinner clean up, we all trek over to the Grad House pub for some "team
building". A number of us call
it an early night, knowing that tomorrow the big adventure really begins as we
head out early on the road to Mission, BC.
Not a long ride, but a very significant one -- finally, the journey is
about to begin.
...alan
University of British Columbia,
Vancouver, BC
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