Winter creek rides are the sweetest

It's been winter now for a day or so and it's still raining. It's starting out like one of those winters where you ride creeks and rivers and you don't get cold. You slip around a bit and you follow the snow over the ice and when that disappears you take it straight and easy on the ice.

Today was one of those days. Temperature hovering around zero. Mist and rain and sleet in the air. A light Northeast wind. Perfect. "We should ride the creek!" That's the standard line around here these days.

The "creek" is the Buffalo Creek, a near river/field drain in Spring and Summer and a cycling haven from the wind as soon as it freezes over. Some winters, when there's a regular amount of snowfall, the creek riding season is short - that week or so when it's cold enough, but there's not much snow. Some winters, like this one so far, it freezes over hard, there's a sifting of snow - enough to coat the ice for some traction - and then you can ride it like a wind sheltered, traffic free, winding road with the occasional trail section, and the occasional walk-a-bike through the reeds section.

Today it looked like this as we rode North from town until the creek devolved into a cow pasture.

You can see how happy we are, standing out there in the schtruck.

Along the way the creek will at times narrow down to this, and narrower. Sometimes you're riding on a bed of cat-tails hoping the creek shows up again. Sometimes you're thrashing along a two-foot wide canal with cat-tails and reeds whacking you in the face. 

Creek-riding at its most awesome.

Smooth and hard and fast and tacky snow. Sweet.

We rode about 30 ks on the creek - see these links (Going North from A-town we then doubled back and went South from where we dropped in taking gravel back into town.) for our route, with help of the folks at daftlogic.com and their distance calculator.

A scenic backway

So FJR texts me up on Wed am:

"You around? Want to go for a little ride this afternoon? Say 2 till 7?"

"Little? Define little." I text back.

There's what seems to be a significant pause in the rhythm of the texts, so I text: "Was it something i said?"

Then "Bathgate for a beer? That's short. Or Vang, nd just past Walhalla?" he says.

So "Yup. Meet here or at the Gretna water station?" I say.

"I can swing by," he says.

"So 2?" I say.

"Yeah, I think so. I may be a tad early."

"No prob. Let me know. Do you have american cash?"

"Yep, I can bring cash for 2."

"T'anks."

"Be there in a jiffy."

Then he emails me this link with the subject "scenic backway".

Of course at first I'm flattered. I've been complimented on certain assets before, but when I open the link I see he has something else in mind. A multi-surface road adventure in the colonies.

There are a few good reasons to ride in the States:

One, the pavement - I can't sort out why the pavement just 5 miles south of my place can be so abundant and remain in such awesome condition when I'm quite certain the winters in North Dakota look and feel a lot like ours.

Two, the drivers - North Dakotan drivers respect cyclists. They slow down when they pass, they give you a lot of room, they wave - if you've stopped, they'll stop to see if they can help. (I wonder if it's something about their perception of reality, which is that they live in the hinterland - right on the edge of things (not Alaska you know, but close) in northern North Dakota it's the equivalent of living in northern Canada - say Thompson or Flin Flon or Churchill - and people who live in places that are perceived by the mainstream to be "extreme" or "peripheral" are just plain more friendly - 'cause folks in northern Canada are pretty friendly and considerate and helpful too. Which doesn't quite explain why drivers on highways in southern Manitoba seem to have more of a "get out of my way you annoying pest you're cramping my style" attitude - except maybe that because we live in the south of Canada we think we're somehow closer to being the Americans that we mock and revile - not realizing that Americans aren't nearly all like that? I don't know. It's a puzzler though.)

Three, the bars - Every burg with a house and a church has one.

Four, the signs - Even the most god-forsaken back roads that no one on a bicycle should ride for fun are marked - albeit the "scenic backway" title elevates the route a little more than necessary (this, my friends, is foreshadowing ...).

Faith, faith is the victory (faith, faith is the victory) ... Are you singing it with me? In your heart? You have to have the courage of your convictions, and my friend FJR is such a one as that. We set out to ride from N-town, cross at Neche, ride to Walhalla to pick-up the Scenic Backway, follow it through the Pembina Gorge, double-back to Walhalla, follow the rest of the Backway to Cavalier, and ride as straight as possible for home. Along the way we would stop at a few establishments to refresh. By FJ's calculations that round trip would be 170ish kms - a solid century plus. We left all but one light at home (a mistake) and rode off from N-town at 2:10 pm. As I said before, faith.

The route

The road to Leroy

 

"Chizzy's" in Leroy - beer stop 1

Banked corner on the road to Walhalla

Above the Gorge and on the way in 

The church in Vang

The b&e

Jesus

Jesus

Jesus?

Even the basements of churches look like bars

Walhalla Country Club - beer stop 2

Drafting a sprayer

Above Walhalla, heading east

The auto-fryer in Jackson's in Walhalla - Americans know
what is the what with greasy bar food

Jackson's in Walhalla - beers 3 & 4

The dusty trail hell of the scenic backway south of Walhalla

Soft soft soft

So soft that the long grass won us over

Finally some gravel, heading to Cavalier

Sammy's in Walhalla - beer 5

The highway headin' north from Cavalier to Neche - there's
less light in the day than the camera would have you believe

Homefires and beer 6 after 9:30

Our guardian long-nose gnome

We prevailed. Belief and perseverance are their own reward - what deluded fellows we are prating about on this goodly earth. So much so that I suspect we'll reprise this journey. It'll be easier knowing what's ahead. We'll invite a few more folks to join us next time. Interested?

Operacion Muerto 2014 - Comfortably numb

I had at first imagined that this report might become some sort of father and son (in-law) schtick regaling the intimacies of how a shared adventure brought two men together, binding them forever in the bonds of bro-dom ... . Right. You can thank Justin and his camera for saving you from that. Instead the journey became a more mercifully light-hearted and laconic affair, sprinkled with the sporadic pictorial documentation of a man's search for gnard comfort. 

Seriously. The application of nut butter is no mean feat. One must consider the timing - first you notice a slight chaffe, but since you want to keep riding you ignore the itch. Soon however the itch rounds the corner into the heat, your mind turns more intently upon the problem, but the real issue remains denial - I'll stand on the pedals for a half km or so and air things out and I'll be fine - which is true, for a time.

The longer the chaffing goes on the more likely you are to become obsessed with it. With changing position on the saddle, with rising and falling, with stopping for a "navigational update." You can never be too sure. You squint. You narrow your eyes. You scan and scan. You hope you're doing the right thing.

Finally the heat rises into the burn that clarifies, that erases away all pretenses, that stops you with its urgency - you get off the bike, fumble through your gear for that wondrous vial, peal and stretch the lycra out, lean forward and reach in to smear on the comfort. 

Ah! 

Ahh!

Ahhh!

Ohhh!

There is no pain you are receding ... how much gnard comfort does a man need? We're reaching for the dark side of the moon here. We're heading for the wall. Perhaps Leo and Roger would enjoy this tale of the two boys - one Dutch Mennonite and one Dutch Indonesian - riding long and on the run and running like hell. We're all mixed up in the end. It's our punishment - we keep riding west and north and west and south and west and west before we turn south and east - the ride must go on. 

Despite the discomfort the ride was mercurial! The gravel roads up there are generally fantastic, the views spectacular, and the hills, though they are work, are a welcome change from the flat-language-uninspired empty spaces of Menno-land. 

When OM Challenge #2 was announced Justin Wolters and I said we should attempt it together. He cycles in Winnipeg, I cycle out near Altona, so we don’t ride together often. It seemed that we were due for some time in the saddle together (each on our own saddles, of course) with Justin snapping the pics and me poring over the route.

We had decided to head straight north from Neepawa to the East Gate, betting on the help of a west wind of some sort to push us home from Deep Lake on our last day. For the most part our bet paid off. Then after we declared our date with Muerto we heard the concerns about the wetness of some of the backcountry trails in the Park, in particular the Tilson Lake Trail.

Hal sent along an alternate route drafted by Pete McAdams that doubled back from Whitewater Lake to Lake Audy to access the Park via gravel roads, either coming in from, or heading out to Deep Lake. This seemed like a reasonable Plan B, and as it rained at least an inch in Riding Mountain on the Thursday and Friday, it started to look like the only reasonable option. 

The reality is that once you're on the road you're reminded that maps, paper and online, go stale and roads keep changing over time. Even gps will not always save you - though once, on our last day, the gps on Justin's phone confirmed, as did my compass, that we were indeed heading in the wrong direction. So for the most part my first cue sheet stayed folded and out of sight and we tried to match the signs with the Backroads Map which, for the vast majority of the time, proved reliable. 

(Actually, the only thing that buggered up its reliability was my arrogant assertions that "the signs must be wrong" or "somebody's effed with the signs!" You have to watch yourself in the last hours of a long ride - you are super likely to make super stupid decisions. If you're not sure get out your compass. A real compass - the ones with a needle floating in magic liquid. Yes, I would recommend a compass for this trip. I've linked to a cue sheet that represents the route that we actually followed, but I'm worried that even that may be misinterpreted so caveat emptor to the user.)

Our first encounter with the difference between the road and the map happened during the first three miles up Rd 86W. This is not an all-weather (gravel) road all the way. Two of first three miles were dirt, but passable, though there were low and wet sections. When we got to the 4th mile it looked less promising so we turned west and followed the gravel, which pretty much tells the tale. The cue sheet and the map are guides, but the road has the final say.

This was typical of the good dirt we encounted on Rd 84N.
There were other great dirt roads that we travelled, but if
wet they would not be passable and you'd be riding around. 

After stopping for a great burger at 3 PM in The White Rabbit Cafe (take the pill!) in Kelwood, we got to the North Gate by 4:30 PM and then turned onto the Burl's and Bittersweet trailhead to find the Reeve's Ravine Trailhead. 

We didn't know what to expect of Reeve's Ravine, so we stashed our panniers at the trailhead and road it without them (and when we returned we had received a written "friendly reminder" from a parkie reminding us not to leave gear unattended. (Notice the Parkie's (Freudian?) language slip - "Unattended Bear" - which I assume was to be "Gear" (has airport security stretched its evil policy-hand this far???).

The trail is great if you love a combination of difficult and narrow single-track (if you've done the Tinker trails, it's like that but longer and harder) with a LOT of steep climbing and descending (my computer got as high as 17% up and 14% down) and spectacular vistas. It would take a hella good rider (and a pretty solid steed) to do it safely with a fully loaded bike. It is a dirt-surface technical single-track with lots of climbing and hairpin switchbacks (and lots of roots and shit like that too). If you want to experience something like it (with not as much climbing) try the Tinker Creek trails south of Morden and Winkler.We were glad we had stashed the gear and taken the parkie's warning. I hope to come back and do the trail again, sans any gear at all!

Reeve's Ravine

After surviving this single-track we headed back to Hwy 19 to "launch" ourselves up 3 kms of 8% grade gravel. At this point I might rhapsodize on the merits of riding a 29er! I bought mine this Spring and I just love it - it's been the most tranformative bike purchase of my life! I can't imagine riding Reeve's Ravine or doing all of the climbing on a loaded cross or a touring bike, so I'd really really really suggest a 29er (and at least a mtn bike). A 29er rolls well over almost all terrain. It's both a safe and delicious choice. 

Heading into the evening sun, up Hwy 19 - notsomuch an Icarus
- which is a good thing.

There's a lot of climbing on this route. By the end of trip my computer registered a total altitude up of 2632 m, with an average grade of 3% and a max of 17%, likely at Reeve's Ravine - a couple of the gravel road climbs registered as high as 10 to 14% (when I could look down to catch a glimpse of the readout) and 5 to 8% grade was not uncommon. Since we came in from the East, we climbed into the Park for 3 kms at an average of 8%. (It would have been an awesome descent if you went the other way!)

We spent our first night at Whirlpool Lake which was fully populated by mosquitos by 8:45 PM when we got there. We managed to find a spot to set-up the tent. (The cost of camping is $15.70. It's self-registration and you can pay using your credit card! (Just fill out the handy form! And if you've memorized your numbers you don't even have to bring the card along!) 

Day 1 ride time and distance: 7 hours 30 mins; 106 kms. 

A bug shirt helps if you don't like chemical solutions.

Whirlpool Lake

By 8:15 AM we were packed up and on the road. We headed to Wasagaming for breakfast (The White House Bakery) and any information from we could get from the parkies. Our concerns were confirmed. The Tilson Trail was quite wet so we checked in with the warden at Wasagaming who said that they'd just had another inch of rain in the last few days and that those trails had not been recently maintained - which means that passes through swamps had not be corduroyed (which they usually are). He said that on normal years people do mtn bike the trails, but he thought that on a fully-loaded bike the swamps would be really difficult - so this trail isn't only more wet than usual, it usually involves swamp and marsh of some kind. Further, when I said we intended to head to the Central Backcountry Trail via the Lake Audy Road he said that you cannot ride a bike through the Bison enclosure. This is against the Park law because Bison (apparently) can outrun a bike. 

To manage this we rode the south quarter of the Clear Lake South Shore Trail (which we entered from the Visitor's Centre downtown) and then took Reid Road to the 354 (all gravel) which we could take to the southern entrance to Lake Audy.  

Highlighted route along Clear Lake South Shore Trail to the 354.

Filtering water at Lake Audy (the MSR Waterworks water filter
necessary, if you're not caching water along the way).

To further impede our progress, once we got there we found couldn't take the Lake Audy North Shore Trail, because it was closed due to bears being in the area. We biked up to the southern entrance of the Bison enclosure, thinking we might take our chances, where we found that, right at the road entrance to the enclosure there is a trail that skirts the outside fence of the enclosure (the warden had said that there is a trail that goes around the enclosure from the north side, but he didn't advise riding it as there are two bison loose and they don't know where they are!). We took this trail along the fence (turn left immediately at the south entrance to the enclosure) and within 2 minutes we saw a bear inside the fence of the enclosure! This trail got us onto the Central Backcountry Trail.

Riding the trail along the Bison Enclosure (bear in the bush on
right - forgive us for not stopping to take a picture - we did bring
along a can of bear-spray just to comfort ourselves).

Typical condition of the Central Backcountry Trail.

All of this led us to Whitewater Lake, which was a bit of a disappointment, as there was no whitewater, indeed hardly any water at all, except this swamp (from which we filtered more water). 

Whitewater Lake campsite - a mosquito inhabited, mowed meadow.

The fast moving waters of Whitewater Lake.

After this we doubled back for 2 kms at which point we decided to try the Long Lake Trail (14 kms) which heads south and leaves the Park. That worked well, although there were three spots where this trail was flooded, but quite passable, one by walking the bike, and the other two were ridable. The trail was recently mowed (6 inches high grass) but still remarkably tiring to ride for 14 kms. 

One of three creek crossings on the Long Lake Trail.

From here we found our way, via gravel, to Deep Lake Station, and then 3 kms north to the beautiful Deep Lake Campground. (Thanks to the old couple living near Seech who gave us access to a water hose when we didn't want to take the time to filter water.)

Heading West for Deep Lake

Deep Lake Station

Deep Lake Campground

Toasted bagels, roasted garlic sausage, served with a
tantalizing peanut butter pate.

Ride time and distance thus far: 16 hours 32 mins; 258 kms (Day 2: 9 hours 2 mins; 152 kms). 

Morning nutbutter ablution

We left Deep Lake by 9:30 AM doing another dance of gravel and dirt roads south. (Note that though at one point a sign will tell you that the road is closed, don't be deterred because your bike can handle it. Keep riding.) When got to Rossburn the TCT started as a gravel based path, but as it left Rossburn the gravel disappeared and the trail was simply a mowed grass path that was not easy to ride. 

The Trans-Canada Trail at its goodest, heading in
to Rossburn.

The Trans-Canada Trail at its typical grassiness (not much fun),
heading out of Rossburn.

We decided against the trail and, using the Backroads map, noodled our way along the rolling countryside on a variety of roads. (They only downside to this was that there was a paucity of small towns in which to re-fuel and find water - also it was the August long weekend holiday Monday. Thanks to the woman living near Ozerna, who gave us access to a water hose.)

Heading East into Neepawa along Hwy 5 at 8:45 PM

Salty-dog JWo style

Our total distance was 449 kms (though we made a few route decisions that were not the most efficient) and the total ride time was 26 hours and 50 minutes (Day 3: 10 hours 18 mins; 191 kms). A great trip. Gnards a little sorer and maybe a little tougher. As the sun set and the moon rose a steak and cheese sub and a coke never tasted so good. (Alas, no beer available on a holiday Monday.)

And all that is now

And all that is gone

And all that's to come

And everything under the sun is in tune

But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

- Roger Waters

Six feet from his head to his heels was all he needed.

- Leo Tolstoy

Funtimes in Rossburn