Up early again yesterday morning. Damn bodyclock.
At 6 Kevin and I rode over to Bear’s Paw Bakery for an americano and gooey cinnamon bun. Then it was back to the breakfast room at the Mount Robson Inn, to meet up with the guys.
We rolled out of town around 8. After Saturday’s heat, it felt good to be starting while it was still cool. A little too cool for just a t-shirt and mesh riding jacket as it turned out. Most of us needed to add an additional layer or switch to a warmer jacket.
We stopped for coffee and a side order of awesome view at Mount Robson.
Les had a little excitement yesterday. We were all wondering what was going on when he pulled off the highway into a parking lot; we’d just made a pit stop a few kms back. I couldn’t figure out why he wanted to stop at a beer and wine store when we were still a ways out from our destination.
In the parking lot Les turned a tight but shaky loop, then proceeded to do a slow dump of his bike. He climbed out from underneath and threw off his helmet: “A wasp! There was a wasp inside my helmet!”
We helped him get his bike back upright. Fortunately Les was okay – with just a little bruising to the ego. His new-to-him Kawasaki escaped relatively unscathed too, with a few minor scratches on the right side mirror and sidecase.
That is one of the risks to wearing a full face helmet with the shield up — which you can do if you’re riding a bike with a windshield. When I feel a little friend crawling around in my helmet, I drop my windshield to its lowest position to give the bug a strong blast of air, then slowly turn my head from side to side to direct the wind at my ears. That seems to do the trick for me; it either knocks ’em out or dislodges them.
While all of the riding yesterday was great, the last 32 kms up the hill to Sun Peaks was perhaps the best stretch. A mix of tight and wider radius twists and turns, with next to no traffic.
When “Will He Make It” Merritt didn’t roll up to the hotel after 5 then 10 minutes, we started to worry. A couple from Portland who were also checking in said they’d passed a cruiser style bike with a big case on the back stopped on the side of the road. Merritt!
What followed was a bit like that Abbot and Costello “who’s on first?” sketch. Blame it on the heat and low blood sugar but it took what felt like an hour to figure out who was going to ride which bike down the hill to siphon out some gas and rescue Merritt.
Thomas fished out the rubber hose he’d brought for just this sort of emergency. Jon was going to ride one of our bikes with plenty of gas left in our bigger tanks. His bike was near empty. But then one of the front desk staff came out and said maintenance could get us some gas.
Long story short, we bought a small jerry can, filled it and Jon’s bike, and he headed down the hill. About a third of the way down, he passed Merritt…riding up the hill. Turns out he decided to go back down and fuel up at the gas station where we turned off the highway. When the Portland couple saw him on the shoulder, he was trying to text us: no service.
Keeping the Shiny Side Up 