We got an early start today….mainly because we both slept like crap. The tiny cabin we were in was cute…but it was hot and the fan was noisy….so there was a choice….sauna or noise. At least noise could be dampened by putting my riding earplugs in.
However….the mattress is another story. It was awful. Like awful enough that I was thinking…at around 3AM…that we’d have been better off pitching a tent and sleeping on our individual air mattresses. So it was not a good sleep for either of us.
We both got up somewhere between 5:30 and 6am…before there was any movement anywhere on the property. We both took the opportunity for long showers and enjoyed the relief the hot mineral water brought to our backs. Then we went for a walk around the site and amused ourselves with the crazy collection of “shelters”. A boat, a couple of buses, a few random trailers, some cute little cabins….and so on.
We’d intended to ride to Nelson, but our neighbour had warned us that the road was being torn up and resurfaced. He’d mentioned a pilot car, grooved pavement, and long waits. None of that sounded remotely appealing, so I resigned myself to, yet again, not visiting Nelson.
Someday.
So, Nelson off the itinerary, we rode to Balfour, loaded onto the morning ferry to Crawford Bay, and enjoyed a nice morning ride across Kootenay Lake. It was a gorgeous morning and we grabbed a (really good) coffee and a (really good) sticky bun and sat up on the upper seating area to enjoy the view.
Kirk had greased my chain a bit before leaving, to see if it would make any difference in the vibration I was feeling…..by the time we got to Balfour it had made a difference, quite a significant one.
When we got the the other side, we stopped in Crawford Bay to grease the chain on my bike again, since doing so this morning had alleviated some of the odd vibration and we wanted to do it. properly and more fully. It seemed that the issue may have been a dryer than should be chain. Maybe?
From Crawford Bay it was a great ride down the lake to Creston….well….except for the woman who veered into my lane and seemed to want to get into a head-on collision with me. The only obvious reason being looking at her phone, or some other distraction. I had shifted to the far right of my lane and was ready for some evasive maneuvers when she finally corrected and lurched back into her own lane. Disaster averted.
In Creston we stopped at a fabulous coffee shop that had been recommended to us when we were filling up the U-Haul and muttering about terrible coffee for days. A couple filling at the other pump had suggested it and it had been wonderful….so back we went. The shop has a lovely courtyard, the coffee is really great, and the baked good are to die for.
Now we were headed to Cranbrook…but we took the road to Hwy21 and the US border at Porthill…because…you know….it’s us and we just don’t typically follow protocol. So we headed to the border into Idaho, on a mission.
Last month my bike died in Montana at the side of the road. I didn’t get to ride a few roads, or visit a few places, that I’d wanted. One of those was a place on the map called “Good Grief”. Anyone in their right mind, on a road trip with destinations defined by distances to ride, should understand why I “needed” to go there!
So we arrived at the border crossing and it went sort of like this.
“Where do you live?”
“North Vancouver”
“Where are you headed?”
“Cranbrook”
About that moment I got an odd look, because, you see…Cranbrook is not IN the United States. And so I pre-emptively blurted out….”I realize it is a very long route to Cranbrook….but you see, last month I was on a ride with two others, one of whom is the rider behind me, and my bike broke down in Montana and I was disappointed because I wanted to ride through this place called “Good Grief” because, well, you have to understand that!”
I probably said about ten times that much because I probably gave him the whole story about the trip but around that point he said “So…is that a camera in that thing on the back of your bike?”
And that opened another door…”Oh, no, that’s just Wall-E. See, on that ride last month when my bike broke down there was a third rider with us, a good friend, but he couldn’t come on this trip so he’s here in spirit with Wall-E”
“So it’s not a camera?”
“No, just a plastic toy”
Clearly I am not a threat to US Homeland Security….and he waved me off. It was kind of like “Go away”.
I pulled forward and listened to him grill Kirk about how much money he was bringing into the US. Kirk said “Ten bucks”.
“How much money is on the bike?”
Kirk replied along the lines of “Well, I have ten bucks and I’m on the bike and I have ten bucks….so….ten bucks.”
The border guard tried once more…”Any money in the bike?”
I cold feel Kirk’s irritation from 20 feet away..he’d answered the question…so now I heard him reply “I have ten dollars on me…I use credit cards for most purchases.”
At that point the border guard gave up and probably decided we were a strange pair (not wrong) and sent us on our way.
We rode south for a few miles before reaching a junction and turning north towards Canada again. I mean….I guess it was a weird thing to do…cross an international border to go about 30 miles to go back to Canada….and visit a place with a population of a handful of humans just to say you’d done so. We stopped at the top of a hill and looked out over the valley below. It was a cooker up there….and was part of an old trail from days gone past when horsepower was a lot smaller…like one horse equaled one horsepower….My bike is the equivalent of 138 horses, Kirk’s is 128 horses…we made the trek a little faster than they did 100+ years ago.
I wasn’t sure what we’d find at Good Grief….the map showed very little. When we arrived we discovered a general store…sadly closed…and little more. But it was worth the ride.
When we’d had a good break and amused ourselves with Good Grief, we rode back up and crossed at Kingsgate back into Canada, Another discussion about Wall-E and his purpose on my bike (“Who’s your passenger?”) and we were back in Canada again.
We rode into Cranbrook, filled the tanks, and decide to do a little loop around Wasa and Kimberly and back into Cranbrook. My brother sent a text “Let us know when you are at your last stop so we can coordinate dinner” …to which I replied…”In Kimberly, heading your way” and said to Kirk “That is so going to mess with his mind”…. because there was no way we should be in Kimberly….
The road From Kimberly to Cranbrook is much better than the road from Cranbrook to Kimberly via Wasa….but one thing I did learn between Kimberly and Cranbrook is that bot all 30km speed signs should be ignored. Like the ones at railway crossings….those ones maybe should be paid a bit more attention too. I took air off one in between there.
After that it was an arrival at my brother’s place, gear off, dinner, relaxation, a real bed, a real shower, a game of croquet….and a couple of days out of the saddle. We now kick back for a couple of days in Cranbrook with family.
And that was day four.