Oat and Aboot in Canadia

Oat and Aboot in Canada

Waterton has a great campground. The shower was nice and warm on a chilly morning. Actually, it wasn’t too chilly, it was low 50’s. I’m sure that number is lower in Celsius, but I can’t be bothered right now to convert it. Actually, when I was in Canada, I had a ton of fun. I absolutely love doing math in my head, and having to do all the metric conversions on the fly was a blast, along with figuring out what prices came to in “real money.” I gave up at gas stations, though.

Packing up my tent, I was somehow hungry again, so I headed back to Wieners of Waterton for a breakfast dog. The dog consisted of sausage, egg, cheese, onions, peppers, salsa, and a bit of sriracha. Great stuff! Heading out of Waterton, the plan was Banff National Park. I decided to come in from the west side, which meant going over Crowsnest Pass.

When I stopped for gas in Crowsnest Pass, the guy behind the counter advised against going to Banff. I knew it was cold, but I didn’t realize that it was already down to 41 degrees and raining in Crowsnest Pass and Banff was several hours north yet. I pulled up the forecast and I saw something I didn’t exactly relish, snow. That sealed it, one of the things I had been looking forward to the most, Banff, was off. Instead of going back through Waterton, I pushed on into the storm over Crowsnest Pass. It was cold. It was rainy. I think I’ve suppressed the rest of the memories from that stretch.

This tree has marked the beginning of the Pass for years, but it died in 1971. Wind got the best of it later, so now its anchored with metal rods.

In what’s left of the town of Frank, there was a monument to the buried town. In the middle of the night in 1903, a chunk of limestone over a kilometer wide, 425 meters long and over 100 meters deep broke loose off of the mountain and cascaded onto the sleeping mining town of Frank, burying most of it and sending 70 people to their deaths. Ironically, those working the night shift in the mines were able to tunnel out. The rocks have been unmoved since then, and in a sign of Canadian respect, I was very glad to see absolutely no graffiti on the rocks.

I stopped in Sparwood, BC for lunch. Because I just needed to eat and run and hopefully have WiFi, I chose the local A&W. The Canadians have a fascination with maple flavoring, with which I am totally on board. I had the Maple Chipotle Bacon burger which was really good, and guess what? They offered sweet potato fries with chipotle mayo sauce. I’m digging it.

Sparwood advertised having the “World’s Largest Truck.” I don’t know about the World’s Largest, but it was big! What blew my mind was the engine took 287 gallons of oil.

Dropping down through Fernie back into these United States, I passed through the border once more. The American side was quite a bit more thorough in their interrogation. Nothing like making you feel irrationally guilty for having done nothing wrong. 

Once in the US of A again, I was riding down 37, when I decided to be a little adventurous and cross Lake Koocanusa (terribly unoriginal name, by the way) and ride the length of it on  National Forest Service Road 228. This was awesome. I had the road to myself for the best part of 42 miles.

I passed one or two Forestry trucks in that time, but other than that, the road was my personal playground. It was on this road that I saw the most American scene that I’ve personally witnessed.

I’m on a extended motorcycle trip across America, camping along the way, riding a forest service road above a beautiful lake. Sheer rock wall to my right, freight train chugging along on the other side of the lake, when a bald eagle swooped down into the lake and had takeout sushi. Amazing stuff.

Moments like this have been branded “Kodak moments” for a little older age or GoPro moments for today, but I argue that it’s a memory moment. I’m glad that I wasn’t distracted by a camera, trying to capture the scene, but instead was able to view it unimpeded by a need to capture and share it with others. I’m the only one who saw that scene, and while I can try to describe it to you, there’s a certain romantic notion in the fact that it will live in my memory only. I feel that so much of today’s world is being captured to share with others that we miss out on the moments ourselves or that we allow what we think would be a great shareable media (picture, video, Vine, etc) to force our hand into doing something that we think would be popular rather than just enjoying and living in that moment. In the end, I’d rather have a vivid memory of a scene than a hasty photograph. Despite that, I feel that ride reports are a vital part of travel. I find it’s a great time for reflection on the past days and can help prolong memories.

I had to cut a U turn when I saw a swinging bridge. I went for a short quick hike back to Kootenai Falls and the swinging bridge.

Just incredibly beautiful. I rode on until it got dark and I realized I wouldn’t make it to the campground, so I grabbed a room in Trout Creek, Montana.

Today’s Takeaway: Live for the moment, not to capture it.