Sunday started well with reasonable grades and other cyclists on the road. When I stopped to pick up a Velcro strap someone had lost by the side of the road, one of them also stopped thinking that there might be interesting wildlife to see. I chatted with her as we started to roll again. She was part of a van supported ride. A little further on at a picnic stop, the van support had set up a buffet of biker fuel for the participants. I managed to mooch a banana from them.
The clouds were low, hiding the peaks. This did little to improve my morale.
A few kms later, I noticed my front tire was low on pressure. I stopped to re-inflate both tires. Not long afterwards, the front tire was again soft. At this point, there was two lanes going South, which meant there was only limited shoulder on my side. Consequently, I crossed the road where there was more space. I removed the front tire to give it a careful examination. This revealed a piece of wire in the sidewall. Once I removed it, I put in a new inner tube which refused to inflate.
I worried that my pump was at fault as the seal has seen better days. I removed the inner tube which proved to be defective! I was installing the second spare when a man from Pennsylvania stopped his car to check if I was okay. I said I was though I was actually rather frustrated.
I got underway. As I neared the Bow Summit at more than 2000 m, a hard, cold rain began. I turned off at the Peyto Lake site in the hope of finding some shelter. I think I saw some of the rain fall as ice pellets. There was little shelter to be had, so I pushed on down the road.
There was a resort with a café at Bow Lake where I got coffee and waited for the rain to stop.
When it did, I went out and chatted with a couple from New York on a tandem with one saddle bag. Because of that and because she was smoking, I assumed they were on a supported tour. It turned out, they had left the bulk of their gear back at a campsite. He complained about how crowded Banff had been. I pointed out that Banff is the Canadian equivalent of Yellowstone National Park except that Calgary and its airport are quite close. (I later realised that the Trans-Canada Highway goes through Banff as well.) He accepted my observation as being valid.
I was tired and drained. Also, my bum was aching. While the road was downhill, it was getting busier. There was significant slowdown at a point where a Parks Canada truck was pulled over with flashing red light. A young woman in a Parks Canada uniform and a high visibility vest was standing guard over a black bear feeding on flowers next to the road. She had what looked like a paintball gun in her hand. Thankfully, she and the bear were on the other side of the road!
The Icefields Parkway ended by joining the Trans-Canada. The T-Can came as a shock after the relative calm of the Icefields Parkway. Thankfully, it was only two km to Lake Louise and my hostel.
I checked into the large hostel and enquired as to the whereabouts of the nearest bike shop as I was down to a patch kit for reserve inner tubes. The bike shop proved to be very close.
Thankfully.
My brain was moving very slowly and it took effort to decide which bit of getting my clobber to my room should happen first. When I noticed this slack thought process, I diagnosed it as low sugar levels and made for vending machines selling Snickers bars and apple juice.
After dumping most of my clobber in my room, I set off in search of replacement inner tubes. The suggested store proved easy to find. In addition, they indeed had the right size and type of inner tubes. Near the store, there was a Parks Canada booth where I asked for the recommended bike route to Banff and Canmore. This proved to be the fairly obvious route, with the exception of the junction of the Bow Valley Parkway and the Legacy Trail.
I returned to the hostel to shower. I wanted to follow this with a pre-prandial snooze, but alas, two other people arrived in my dorm just after I closed my eyes.
That was a tough day, physically and mentally.
Monday was much better. For one thing, there were no high passes to cross! As I left Lake Louise, I fell in with a cheerful bunch of cyclists from Oregon heading my way. Some of them were headed to Missoula, Montana. I correctly deduced their membership in the Adventure Cycling Association which has its headquarters there.
They talked me into visiting Johnston Canyon which was along the way.
On one sign someone had translated Johnston Canyon as Cañon Johnston which is the Spanish not the French translation. (I later pointed this out to a Parks Canada employee.) Johnston Canyon made for a scenic though crowded interlude.
I got to Banff in time for a late lunch. I then took the bike on a bus up to the Upper Hot Springs where I thoroughly enjoyed soaking in the hot water.
Then it was time for a “whee” back down to Banff and off to Canmore where I found Margo’s friends S and T and a Warmshowers guest of theirs who was about to set off bikepacking along the Great Divide.
This morning I found out that the campground where I had seen the “closure on account of wolf” sign had been a wolf attack on Friday. It was the Rampart Creek Campground. Rather sobering. Actually, S and T were a little shocked that I had been travelling along the Icefields Parkway without bear spray.
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