Eureka! Alberta is gorgeous!

Words and photos by JK

I had a bad night. Sore throat. Then I was sick in the morning. I rode like a dazed pot-smoker for the first few miles through Eureka MT. But riding a fast bike in sunshine on big, smooth, open roads with mountain scenery cures any illness and soon I was grinning and singing in my helmet as I followed Garrett at a relatively sedate pace. He knew I was well "off" and considerately kept it smooth and easy. We did 230 odd miles in total yesterday and every mile was stunning. Go online and find scenery to get an idea. But from a bike, with the smell of grass and pine forests and rushing rivers, swooping like a snowboarder through the bends, it's beyond any IMAX experience. We took Hwy 93 north and, after a crackin' good laugh with the girl at the Canadian border, rode to Hwy 3 through Fernie BC, Sparwood, over the beautiful Crows Nest Pass, and then up the 22 to Calgary. Gentle rolling cattle ranches with jagged, snow-capped mountains in the distance made me forget how lousy I felt. We stopped for petrol and a chap on an obviously expensive custom Harley came over and asked me who I was racing for. He asked who SAGE was and what ACT! was. He said he had just returned from Duluth Minnesota and was stunned by the size of the ships on the Great Lakes. I enjoyed hearing his extremely Canadian accent. For the first time I recognized the difference between a Canadian accent and the generic American accent (not deep south or New Joisey). Canadians make every statement as a question in tone. Every sentence rises in tone at the end as though seeking agreement. Hey, how does a Canadian say the alphabet? A eh B eh C eh D eh E eh...

We found our hotel and discovered the online booking had messed up my reservation and we had to find another place for Saturday night. I was pigged off as I desperately needed some down-time but the young staff were so friendly and helpful that I just couldn't show my anger. Anyway, it wasn't their fault. Calgary is an oil town and booming. Hotels are not cheap and apparently they are all busy all the time. Just the sort of situation I hate. We settled in and my brother Richard called and said we were to meet at an Indian restaurant downtown. Downtown was all dug up and EXACTLY the route I had memorised was closed (typical) but we got there and had a jolly time with him and his lovely English wife Linda. Garrett pumped my brother full of questions about oil and the world scene. He loves all that. I ordered a Vindaloo curry and the waiter went "Ooooh". He asked why I ordered such a hot curry and I said "because you don't have a Phal on the menu". (Phal will kill small animals at 40 yards with a whiff of the sauce). Well it was about as hot as a Dairy Queen in a snow drift. My brother says no one in Calgary wants hot food. Hmmmmmm. And all those people from India walking the streets?

As we left the restaurant a large group of Richard's international work colleagues were at a table so I got to meet them. Richard and I are like the North and South pole. He is a real "proffessor" egg-head genius and I'm about as shallow as they come. We don't even look anything alike. On the way back I really enjoyed the rush of two bikes in a city at night weaving and dodging and watching the myriad lights in a frenzied focus. We stopped at some motel and booked the last room for Saturday night. I hope to see Scott (my sister Cathy's son) and Rebecca his wife tonight. I have to go pack up and move hotels now...groan.