Mountain several miles west of Hinton
Because I updated the website until late last night, I woke up
real late again, but, by eating breakfast at McDonalds (awful-but quick
and next-door to the motel), I was able to get going by 10:00.
I headed west on the Yellowhead Highway toward Jasper. The road was the
best yet--10 foot shoulders and negligible grades.
About 1 mile along I recorded on my microcassette recorder how wonderful
it was not to have wind, whereupon, I must have awakened some sort of wind
god who furnished me with healthy 10-15 mph headwinds for the rest of the
day.
There were outstanding mountain views.
I was undaunted. The winds never dampened
my spirit, because THE SUN WAS OUT and the scenery was absolutely gorgeous.
I quickly removed my jacket and leg warmers and applied sunscreen. My Trek
computer showed it to be around 83 degrees. At one point, I felt so good
that I had goose bumps from head to toe. I classify this day right in there
with Kluane Lake and Muncho Lake. It was spectacular.
I saw my first bicyclists in days; 2 racers (with numbers on their bikes)
out for a fast run unencumbered by any gear at all. I didn't get a chance
to talk to either--they were moving real fast the other way. I was startled
a few minutes later by a voice just behind me. I was watching the scenery
and not my mirror and failed to notice a loaded bike overtaking me. It was
a young (early 30's?) man from Barrhead (near Edmonton), who had only been
on the road a couple of days. He had minimal gear: no rear panniers, small
front panniers, and only a sleeping bag on his rear rack. He said he'd built
the bike for $5 from scrap. He also noted that his sleeping bag was damp
from sleeping without a tent; that he needed a tarp. He wore no helmet.
He came across to me as a homeless bicyclist. I didn't take his picture
because I didn't really want to reveal the equipment I was carrying. He
was strange enough that I was a bit paranoid about him. I'd been quite open
with dozens of fellow bicyclists in Jasper and Banff, so must have perceived
a some sort of basis for my paranoia in his instance.
With a far lighter load, he begged off and left me alone once again. About
25 miles later, I stopped for water at a hand pump in a picnic area, and
he was there resting. I got my water and pedaled off only nodding to him.
He passed me again without saying anything just as I reached the town of
Jasper.
I stopped several times at picnic tables along the road to drink Gatorade,
eat my lunch, and take in the scenery.
Like Denali National Park in Alaska, there are so many animals in view (because
they're protected in the Park) that it feels almost like a zoo.
The scenery is very rugged, much like Alaska and the Yukon.
I watched some men constructing a boat landing from peeled logs
at Talbot Lake.
 Talbot Lake (looking west) |
 Talbot Lake (looking east) |
There were elk in the road and in the woods.
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On my right as I rode toward Jasper, I saw railroad tracks and
twice saw trains go by (I couldn't dismount fast enough to get a photo).
There were numerous trailheads along the road, and some mountain bike trails
crossed the road. I glimpsed several folks on mountain bikes off in the
woods.
I followed a group of kids (middle school age) on mountain bikes
into the town of Jasper. They were followed by a sag van. I reached Jasper
around 3:00.
Jasper is a touristy town of gift shops, restaurants and motels
(about on a par with Traverse City, Michigan). I'd heard from Nelson and
Kåren that the visitor information center in Jasper was excellent,
but as I approached it, there were so many people milling about that I was
afraid to leave my bike unattended. I can lock the bike, but not the panniers.
So, I rode around town for a while until I saw a bicycle store (Beyond Bikes).
I rode right up to the front door and rolled my bike inside.
I explained my predicament and the mechanic, Luke, offered to watch the
bike while I walked to the visitor center.
At the visitor center (which was indeed excellent), I found out
that there were only a handful of expensive motel vacancies. They suggested
that I consider renting a "private accommodation" instead. "Private
accommodations" are rooms in people's homes that are rented out by
the day; like a B&B without breakfast. I went back to the bike shop
and used their phone to call a couple of motels to find that rates of $135
weren't out of the ordinary, while private accommodations were less than
half that.
There are numerous campgrounds in the park, but I had been riding hard for
about a week and needed a break from my bike and from camping out. I intended
to stay a couple of days in Jasper and perhaps even indulge in some other
activity like whitewater kayaking.
Another alternative to motels is seasonal bungalows--what used to be called
cabins. The bicycle store mechanic (Luke, from London, Ontario) suggested
one. It turned out to be full, but they said they knew of a private accommodation
I might try. I called the owner on her cellular phone (she was out playing
golf) and made arrangements for the key and directions. I then rode my bike
about a mile into an area of very nice homes. I rented a nice room with
my own bath and a private entrance in a huge contemporary home that I would
estimate would cost something like $750,000-$1 Million to build in a resort
area like Jasper. Not bad for $55 per night.
I went back to Beyond Bikes to thank them for their help and to ask the
mechanic to look at my chain, which had skipped a few times during the day's
ride. He looked at the chain, the front chainrings and rear cassette and
pronounced my bike fit, but in need of chain lube. That I knew--the construction
north of Grande Cache really clogged up my chain and dirtied up the bike.
I started to back the bike out of the store to get on my way, and the chain
broke right then and there, falling onto the floor. I felt like somebody
having a heart attack in the doctor's office. I much preferred to have a
problem there than out in the middle of nowhere. Luke loaned me a rental
mountain bike which I used to go back to my room and retrieve my spare chain,
which he installed free of charge. Everybody has been so nice to me on this
trip. I'm amazed. [The folks at Beyond Bikes were
nice enough to let me use their telephone to upload my website material.]
I then went to the laundromat and washed all my bike clothes ($1 CDN for
washer; $1 for dryer). I talked with some folks from Miami, Florida and
San Jose, California about eating choices. They said a guide book they'd
consulted suggested Something Else, a Greek restaurant. I said that while
my wash was in the dryer, I'd walked around town looking at the restaurants,
and that Something Else did seem quite popular. When I finished folding
my laundry, I went there--chaining my bike to a bike rack--and taking the
laundry (in one of my rear panniers) with me into the restaurant. The meal
was real good. As I was leaving, I saw the folks I'd talked to in the laundromat,
sitting at a table behind me. They invited me to join them for a beer. We
sat and talked (mostly about my trip) until about 11:00 PM.
52 miles.
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© Ed Noonan 1996, 1997