Day 3: Banff to Highwood Pass

a difficult detour over Highwood Pass develops a brand new route to Waterton NP

the hostel was actually pretty great... especially considering the rain.

After a delicious meal in Banff, a quick drive back to the hostel, and an absolutely WONDERFUL hot shower... I had a good discussion with one of the operators (wardens?) of the hostel.  I was going over the route for the next day, and to make a medium-length story slightly shorter, Jim (the nice hostel curator... or whatever) suggested I take a different route.

We had planned out drive up to specifically cover the route that I would be traveling southward, so I'd know what to expect, and make sure I was aware of any potential surprises (be they pleasant or otherwise).  I had purchased, at no small fee, several waterproof maps closely detailing the route I was taking which included specific turn directions, where campsites, stores and other amenities could be found.  Also, they were made by people who had DONE these routes (and many others)... people who knew which roads were cyclist-friendly, and which roads were to be avoided.  Considerably research was put into each of these maps.  They were very handy.  

And here was Jim, a guy I had literally just met... suggesting I should take a different route.  He had made a squiggle and a circle (around a pass-through town) on a map that was basically a paper placemat (one of those tear-off tourist maps) - and was suggesting I change my route for the next two days.  Essentially, on an impulse, to throw months of planning out the window... and without cell phone coverage, any reasonable map, understanding of the area, or any advice from someone who was an actual touring cyclist... to venture on an entirely new route.

Sounds good.

I would now be skipping Kootenay National Park, for a trip through Kananaskis Country.  My only context for Kananaskis Country was seeing some photographs from a winter photo expedition by some people on an online photography forum I used to frequent.  But I remembered there being pretty mountains.  Also, I had already seen Kootenay NP while driving through... so this was something new. Also also, Kananasksi Country contains Canada's highest paved road.  Yeah, that'll do.

And off I went.

Always bittersweet to leave. Also, that is a big sign.

For real, if I see a bear on this bike path, I'm gonna lose it.

The first leg of the departure was excellent.  There is a paved bike path for about 20 miles leaving Banff.  We're off to a great start.

Wait, so... wait, what now?

It took me a while of stupidly staring at signs to realize what was going on here.  In Canada, they take tremendous precautions to keep wildlife off major roadways.  So there were wildlife fences adjacent to major highways with different places for wildlife to cross the highway safely (most notably some pretty awesome "wildlife overpasses".  Anyway, the wonderfully comfortable cyclepath I was on traversed in and out of "wildlife zones"... where the gates were left ajar to accommodate demanding cyclists like myself.

"But, Hold on!" you exclaim, in understandable anxiety "the wildlife can just get through in those giant gaps in the fence!  The whole system is a sham!"

I was confused, as well.  But check out that sign on the left again... don't worry, that black mat is ELECTRIFIED!  Which is why it is kindly suggesting that horses and hikers don't cross there (they move through the gate on the right, off the mat).

Hey Canada, I get that the lightning bolt is a bit threatening, but how about this:

IF YOU'RE GOING TO ELECTROCUTE ME, GO AHEAD AND USE SOME WORDS IN THE WARNING!

Or, you could just print this really big.  People would get the idea.

Near the end of the path was the town of Canmore.  Canmore, along with having a somewhat preposterous name, was the host for the 1988 Olympic Games in Calgary (a lot of the events took place in Canmore... and most of the training facilities are still there).  Also, speaking of training facilities... did you know there are curling rinks (rinks?) and clubs EVERYWHERE in Canada?  They're like bowling alleys, basically.

As I left the safety and fun of the bike path, the forecasted weather finally began showing up... rain.

Sweet sassy molassy did it rain.

For hours... just downpour.

At one point, I really wanted to stop... but the new and "improved" route from Jim has taken me onto a major highway (yeah - like an interstate) and I just wanted to get off that thing so bad I was pedaling about as hard as a could.  So, to recap, cars and huge trucks were screaming by, it was a total downpour, and I was in a (ridiculous) rain jacket pedaling all out. It was, in a word, wet.

I made it. And I didn't even ruin my phone taking this dumb selfie.

Oh, you wanted to see the whole sign? without the ugly fat guy in the way? here ya go.

Notice the mountain grandeur in the distance. 

Okay, that was sarcastic.  But confusing, because Kananaskis really does have some of the most spectacular mountain grandeur on our continent... but here's the thing about the mountain version of grandeur... it is tougher to enjoy WHEN COMPLETELY OBSCURED BY CLOUDS!

That will probably hold the record on this blog for "uses of grandeur in the same paragraph" but NOT for "ending an otherwise calm paragraph with screaming".

Thankfully, the clouds eventually broke, and I was able to enjoy a truly amazing ride through the heart of Kananaskis Country.  It was absolutely beautiful, and there were hardly any people.  Perfect.

pretty stream. (ski runs in the distance)

big mountains. like, right in your face. in a good way.

blue sky! blue sky! I see blue sky!

Even the Surly is enjoying the view.

At this point I was enjoying the view and starting to realize I was STARVING.  Attempting to speedily ride a bike through the rain, into the wind, and over hills is tiring.  And eventually your body (mostly the stomach part of your body) says "enough! that's it! give me real food!"

So you reach for another granola bar... and your stomach slaps you in the face and growls menacingly... "I. Said. Real. Food."

I was famished, and starting to bonk.  Something hot would be ideal... even better if it had parents. Good news, chuckwagon just ahead!  (if you don't know what a chuckwagon is, it's ... well, just google it. for our purposes here: it's hot food).  It was 4:05.  Restaurant closed at 4:00.  But the gift shop has granola bars.

I finally understood how George Costanza felt during his Twix rage.

Luckily, another couple miles down the road was a golf course.  Hey, golf courses usually have food. Better check it out.

Turns out, this golf course was super nice.  The Kananaskis Country Golf Course. Here is a photo from their website to prove that I am not lying about the nicety.

note the quote.

Know what makes it even better and more exhilarating? A wet, dirty, overweight 30 year old guy in spandex waiting in the middle of the restaurant because he ordered the Santa Fe Chicken Sandwich to go... after he told the cart boys to watch his bicycle for him (leaving it by the club drop).

Yes, all of that happened.  And yes, the sandwich was delicious, and absolutely worth ruining everyone else's meal.

A memorable dining experience, to be sure.

Anyway, the plan was for me to summit Highwood Pass (the highest paved road in Canada) and then we'd camp on the other side, and continue on tomorrow.  Well, Dad met up with me along the way to deliver news, as follows:

1. There are no real campsites anywhere close to the summit, and pretty much nothing on the other side for a long long time.
2. It was really steep.  

After the second piece of news, as if to drive home the point, Dad said something to the effect of "I mean, it's gonna suck."  And then looked at me with a measured amount of pity (the way only a father can look at his son, as if to say "why are you doing this to yourself?"... "you know I'll still love you after you fail... uh errr... IF you fail I mean.  Uh, you can do it?")... as if I was some sort of wet, dirty, overweight 30 year old guy who wasn't able to bike up the highest road in Canada after spending hours biking through a rainstorm... oh.

I attempted the climb anyway, and it was... well, it was absolutely beautiful.  I think I saw only one other car... and I just kept climbing up and up and up, through clouds, past alpine meadows and waterfalls, and huge craggy mountains.  Each turn offered a fresh new vista of truly astounding scenery.  It was spectacular.  It was serene.  It was gorgeous.

By the time I got to the top, I only had about an hour of daylight... which made everything all the more beautiful. But also meant I would have to backtrack in hurry to the campsite, and probably arrive in the dark.  (The campsite Dad picked out was back near the base of the climb - I had already passed it, so I needed to backtrack... but there really was nothing on the other side of the summit).  Off I go...

in Canada, the first word of this sign reads: "soar-ee"

note: "little highwood pass" is NOT Highwood Pass

made it!

the beautiful descent

It was along this descent that I took the photo at the top of this post... which is still my favorite picture I've ever taken with my phone.  Pretty unbelievable what they're capable of.

I arrived in camp, assisted by headlights, just in time to stop Dad - as he was pulling out to try to find my mangled corpse somewhere on the mountain.  The endeavor had taken longer than expected but had been well worth it.  We had some food, a fire, and were safe and sound... in the middle of a bear corridor.

wait what?!

Dad, why did you chose this campsite?! (said the young son whose tent had just been smashed by a bear two days earlier).

"It has a nice view."

I can't wait to see it in the morning...