The Ride Home
After our fantastic evening of dinner and a boat ride, we went our separate ways for the night. Plans were made to meet at Lou’s Café for breakfast at 9am. I asked where it was. I was told it was just next door as they pointed to the side of the hotel.
In the morning the noise and voices outside started around 5:30am. If I ever stay here again, I will make sure my room is not overlooking the parking lot. People were up early yakking outside. They were also other bikers there, who had packed and left early as well. Some members of our group had packed and left early to go see a few sights before breakfast. Believe me, when those bikes with loud pipes are parked below your window, the sound is deafening.
At a few minutes before nine, I walked outside to find the restaurant. I could not find it. I walked up and down the streets for a few blocks but it was not there. There was nobody at the desk of the hotel when I went in so I had no one to ask. I went upstairs to pack my gear and get it stowed on my bike. When I came back downstairs the front desk clerk was finally there so I asked him where the restaurant was. He told me it was actually several blocks down and that it was driving distance not walking distance.
I thanked him, got on my bike and left in search of Lou’s. It was 9:30 when I pulled up in front and parked beside all the other bikes. The day went downhill from there.
I was still having breakfast when they started getting ready to go. I wolfed down the last of my food so as not to keep them waiting too long. N took the lead to guide us out of town and to the highway to Lytton. I recommend this ride if you’re not struggling to keep up or worrying about the rider behind you following too close. The rider behind finally zoomed past me and was gone from sight within seconds. We arrived at some sort of crossroad where the Roadies were waiting to direct us. We were diverted up a rough curvy road uphill. I saw the Roadies come up behind me and if he had not honked for my attention I would have kept going. I stopped and the Roadies pulled ahead and into a long gravel driveway.
I hate gravel.
I followed along very carefully, remembering to let my front wheel find its way. Although I did let my feet hover about an inch from the ground. This gravel was deep and loose. I saw all the bikes already turned around and parked on the far side of the gravel lot. I said to myself, “"fudge" it”.
“I’m stopping here.”
“I’ll worry about it later.”
“Why are we here?”
We had been led to an artist’s workshop to view his work. It was somewhat interesting, but I really would have preferred to keep going home. We still had a very long ride ahead of us. It was also extremely hot standing around in the sun. Lytton is the hot spot of British Columbia so you really need to be a heat lover to live here. I guess you can tell by now, I don’t care for the heat. It was hotter than blazes here and I was feeling cranky. I did keep it to myself though I did find a kindred spirit in one other person. She also just wanted to get going. Finally the gang rallied together and got ready to go. P had noticed the difficulty I had coming in on the gravel and he offered to turn my bike around for me. I thanked him for his help and gratefully let him do it. I’m sure I could have done it myself, but if someone is kind enough to offer assistance, I’m not going to turn it down.
I also thank men when they hold doors open for me, too.
We doubled back down the road and made a left at the crossroads to head to the highway. We were going to Spence’s Bridge for lunch. However, when we got to the highway, there was no sign of anyone else. It looked like BB and I were riding together again. He thought they had stopped for water some where. We did spot a couple of bikes in a gas station as we went by, but I couldn’t be sure they were with our group. BB and I kept riding towards Spence’s Bridge and before long the Roadies and another rider passed us and kept on going.
BB and I stopped in Spence’s Bridge for fuel and then BB led us to the appointed lunch place. It was a good thing BB was with me, because I had no idea where the place was. When we arrived, the group was already outside on the patio with refreshments on the table. Just about the time I was thinking I should order some food, the group suddenly decided it was time to go. I managed to chew down an energy bar because I knew I had to keep my blood sugar up. I have already had two experiences of not keeping hydrated or nourished and could not let it happen for the next challenging portion of the ride. We were to stop and have a meal in Hope at a restaurant that I actually knew. I was refilling my camelback when they left. One other couple waited for me so I had someone to ride with. I could see the Roadies ahead of me so I pushed my bike hard to try to catch up. It was a futile attempt. Shortly after leaving Spence’s Bridge, the one couple who had been behind me, pulled off the road. They had stopped to watch the white water rafters on the Thompson River.
I just kept going. I gave up trying to catch up with the others. Even though I had been going considerably faster than the speed limit, they were still pulling away from me. I decided to “ride my own ride”. That’s what they all keep telling me, anyway. So, I ended up riding alone all the way from almost Spence’s Bridge to Hope. I rode the entire Fraser Canyon alone. I will find a photo so you have an idea of what it’s like. It was also swelteringly hot. I would sometimes get stuck behind some tractor trailer rig and then have to wind up to 120kmh to pass in the passing lane. For some reason, everyone who goes slowly suddenly floors it in the passing area making it almost impossible to get ahead of them. I actually think this particular trucker was enjoying making it hard for me. He took a sideways glance as I went past and I’m sure I saw a smirk on his face.
I pulled over to the side of the road in Boston Bar. I stopped to refill my camelback and to have a drink of cool water. I also tried to find a signal on my cell phone to try and call dr_bar, but there were no cell signals where I was. Prior to me going away, I had asked dr_bar how he felt about riding to Hope so I could have some company to ride back into town with. He loves to ride and hasn’t been getting a chance to ride much lately, so he liked the idea. Unfortunately, I had been unable to call because the plans of the day kept changing. While I was standing beside my bike in Boston Bar, the other couple who had stopped to watch the rafters pulled over. They stopped to see if I was ok. I appreciated that gesture. We chatted for a few minutes while I was refilling the water pack. They asked if I wanted them to wait but I said no I would be coming along as soon as I put the lid on my water. We said we would see each other in the restaurant in Hope.
I carried on by myself and before long all the fluids I had drank started to catch up to me. It’s kind of a “Catch-22” situation when you need to drink so much to prevent hydration, but the bladder can hold only so much. I stopped in at a rest area to use the outhouse. As a longtime hiker and camper, I am used to such fineries, but I don’t doubt some folks would be appalled at the idea.
Once back on the road, I had to wait to get back into traffic because of the construction. I was glad when it was finally time to get moving because it was so hot sitting with the heat of the sun coming from above and the heat of the engine radiating from below.
As I passed the Lake of the Woods rest area, I was thinking that the next time I go this way, I would stop in there. The lake looked very pretty and inviting. As I went past the parking I caught a glimpse of a motorcycle parked by the concrete barrier. I thought it looked familiar somehow.
Hey, I do recognize that bike!
It was dr_bar’s Virago. I recognized it because of the red and white colour and the top bag on the back. I put my right blinker on and pulled off about a block up the highway. When it’s busy traffic on the Trans-Canada Highway, it’s a good idea to give the drivers behind you lots of warning. I pulled over but slowed down gently. It was bit graveled, and well, you know me and gravel.I walked back along the shoulder to the parking lot whereupon I spied dr_bar walking across the parking lot. I called out, “Hey, Mr. BAR”.
He looked up when he saw me and a big grin broke across his face. He asked me where the others were. I told him I was alone. He asked why and said it was along story that I would tell him about later. I asked him if he would like to follow me into Hope to the restaurant. He had already eaten but I said I needed to or I would start to fade. I told him about not having lunch. He just shook his head sadly.
He had ridden up there on the off chance we would meet. He told me had parked his bike where it was for easy visibility….it was actually a no parking zone. He had sent a message to my cell, but I had not yet received it. Dr_bar followed me into Hope to the appointed restaurant. I saw the Roadies bike but there was no sign of the bike of the couple I talked to in Boston Bar. We went into the restaurant and saw the Roadies wave to us. They had waited for me. I asked about the others. J & K had gone straight home. But the other couple never showed up. We were a bit concerned because they had specifically said they were coming here. We didn’t wait any longer because we knew I was the last rider down from the canyon. I mentioned to Mr. Roadie that I couldn’t keep up with him which is why I lagged behind. He claimed he had been doing the speed limit. I somehow doubt that. I was speeding to try to catch up but couldn’t. I think those people on their big bikes forget that they have superior acceleration and much lower RPM’s at high speed than my 650cc. I think they don’t realize how fast they are going sometimes.
We had a nice dinner to finish off the weekend before the Roadies set off on their own for home. I now had another 2 hours to get home. I don’t know why the whole ride breaks up instead of finishing together. I will put it all down to a learning experience.
I needed to fuel my bike for the ride home and dr_bar needed to put some oil in his bike so we headed to a gas station for those tasks. We also indulged in some ice cream before leaving for home. While we were standing there, I had a chance to share some of my story about the ride home.
He asked, “So, how many more of these group rides are you going to do?”
I replied with, “I will be much more selective about which rides I do.”
We headed to the freeway but cut across at Agassiz to access Highway #7. It would be a much more pleasant ride than staying on the freeway the whole way. In fact, the whole ride home was most enjoyable. I knew where I was going and I wasn’t trying to keep up with anyone. It was a much more relaxed feeling. We stopped in Coquitlam for refreshment before dr_bar headed home to his place and I headed home to mine. I had a short ride of only 20 minutes after parting ways.
Although there were a few disappointments about the whole “group thing”; like being left behind for example; overall it was very satisfying.
I managed to ride the Duffy Lake Road and the whole Fraser Canyon Highway. It is a trip I would ride again, but with just one or two friends. In fact, dr_bar has suggested going next month. I may just take him up on it.
Pics soon.
Coming up next….Sev is in town and I arrange to take him to Whistler.
This would be about when a bad word could be inserted here. 
We were wondering where his scarf was. 
there are only 2 kinds of bikes: It's a Ninja... look that one's a Harley... oh there's a Ninja... Harley...Ninja...
