Met a nice horse like a palomino, but it doesn't like energy bars. I had pulled off the highway on a dirt road for a rest. Across the old railway track, I put down my blanket in the long grass, and the horse was my companion for awhile. It was fenced in with a woods behind it. There might have been a path through the woods for it to access other pastures, but I couldn't see one. It looked like it was trapped in that small area.
Dundurn statue of The Bones Collector. Buffalo bones were collected years after the buffalo had been all killed off.
The story here is that, again, I had battled very strong headwinds to Dundurn. Winds were so strong that even when coasting down hill, the bike wouldn't go over 5.5 miles/hr., that is, 8 km./hr.
I went into Friend's Cafe/Bakery where I met Marg who is 86, and her daughter, Lyn.
Marg is a retired farm girl who is still doing pushups at 86 and very active.
She suggests to me that I go to Blackstrap Park, 7 km. east, because she feels my knees and legs need a day's rest and she adds that I must be getting lonely.
She says there's camping in Dundurn back near the highway beside the motel, if I'd rather.
When Marg leaves Friend's, she puts her hands along the top of two chairs, lifts her feet off the floor, and swings back and forth a few times before leaving. She's lithe and thin but still strong, and full of positive energy.
Approximate Progress Map to date'Mom is approaching the halfway point between Edmonton and Kenora. I think she is taking a day to enjoy the current campground and rest up for the next leg of the trip to Regina. [Josie]'
Up hill after hill to Blackstrap and me dying most of the way, even before I started, and then a long hill down to Blackstrap Lake in the valley below (which I have to walk back up 2 mornings later).
Lots of pelicans down on the lake. Seven flew overhead that evening, gliding past like giant white condors. The wings are black tipped, and the pale yellow beaks must be 4-5 ft. long.
Hazelnut campground. So tired that I can barely put my little one-woman tent up. The ground is so lumpy, inspite of my good sleeping mat, that I can hardly get to sleep. Next morning I will move it, and scrape the ground before I re-erect the tent but it's too dark now.
That night I had a strange visiter. Woke up after midnight to the sounds of very loud crunching which I thought to be a bear trying to get into the food panier, and grabbed and decapped the bearspray real quick, unzipped the tarp as loudly as I could hoping to scare it away, shone my bike flashlight towards the bike and paniers first and then around the site but saw nothing. The crunching stopped, though, and then there was a mad scrambling of breaking branches as whatever it was tore through the bushes at the side of my site, followed with a big splash. It sounded like a bear or a person falling into the water.
My heart started thumping wildly when I thought maybe not a bear but a man.
My campsite was waterfront with a little dropoff where the lake met site.
Couldn't get back to sleep. I wondered if maybe the bear, or guy, didn't know the embankment to the lake was there and had fallen in.
About fifteen minutes later, the crunching started again, so I was sure it was an animal rather than a person, and this time the flashlight didn't deter the critter, which I still thought to be a bear or raccoon. I wondered why the fellow in the next site, whose food seemed to be in the process of being invaded, didn't get up and protect it - at least put it in his car. I figure the animal is eating crackers. Turns out his site was further over than I thought.
I listened to the crunching for at least an hour, and suddenly with a great crash, a tree falls across the road with a crash not 10 feet from the tent. The owner of the tent on the other side of mine woke up and yelled out in fright.
Then another splash.
And my brain said 'BEAVER!'
I think, just like a mountain climber, the beaver probably felled that birch just because it was there, although he will probably try to tell you that he was sharpening his teeth.
I'm relieved that that mystery is solved, but can't get back to sleep. I lie there thinking about my trip, wondering whether to stay longer.
All of a sudden, I see a brown hairy hand coming through the opening of the tarp and yell as loud and as deeply as I can hoping to scare it away. I grab and decap the bearspray again. As I do so, I remember that I had zipped the tarp opening down and so the hand couldn't be where I have just seen it. There's nothing there now.
It begins to dawn on me that I've drifted off and have had a nightmare.
So I relaxed and eventually went to sleep. Hard when your heart is thumping madly.
Comment from Viewer: "Sounds like a Blair Witch night. Glad you are safe. Love Jo"
In the early morning, the man on the north side tried with my help to move the fallen tree off the road because the cars were crashing over the end of it rather than take the long road back, up a hill and around the other side. It was too heavy and we couldn't budge it.
I desparately want to make tea but the sterno stove is out of fuel. Non of the hardware stores have carried it, though I haven't stopped at that many.
Later, the man on the site south of mine, and wearing track pants whose bum reads
RCMP, moved it with the help of a man who drove up in a car. The beaver has felled it in exactly the only spot where it could fall without lodging between trees, which very luckily for me is across the road instead of across my tent.
Warm with strong southeast winds so I'm glad to stay put. My knees hurt so I'm sure I couldn't have gone far today, anyway. Will definitely stay here. Nice park.
In the afternoon, Sue, and her daughter Michele, drop by my picnic table for a chat. When I tell them of last night's adventure, one of them says, 'No bears south of Saskatoon, Karen.'
I put myself on a liquid diet of energy food, bars and mix, for the day, and lay about to give my poor legs a rest. I have no energy, anyway.
There's a sandy beach 9 km. further down but I haven't enough energy to cycle down.
My knees hurt quite a bit although I've had no leg cramps while cycling the whole trip. They come on the train trip home.
Later, around supper time, I hear 'Karen, Karen, oh, are you sleeping?'
It was Michele, and, no, I wasn't sleeping but in the tent on my back resting, with the tarp up so I could look at the lake.
'Would you like to have a hamburger with us?' she asked me.
Would I!!! Real food? No restaurants or variety stores out here at this park.
My sterno stove (can) empty.
My cell phone had died but the office 1/2 km. back had an outside plug that I had been invited to use. Hated leaving it there unprotected but had to.
I had only 1/2 litre of water left, albeit water purifier that Josie had given me, and also a bit of Gatorade.
There's still lots of dried fruit, though, and the energy bars and mix.
So over I trudge with Michele, wearing an old pair of exercise tights that I forgot I had on until I realized, 'Oh, no, these are my jammie pants'. The trouble was - still is - that there is a 1-inch hole in the back upper thigh that looks like a moth ate through. I put on my jacket - she was in short sleeves - because whenever my system gets down, I feel cold or get the chills. The jacket partly covered the hole.
Her Mom, Sue, had made the best potato salad ever, homemade potato salad to die for and real no-fill hamburgers, and slices of tomato and onion and dill, I think, and cheese, and dessert, and so much more. Everything you'd need for a perfect picnic. Next day they were to have an annual family reunion there and what better place I can't imagine.
Michele and Vern live on a farm near Craik which they share with their nanny and her kids. She says she names all her animals, but they do sell the kids. Sue is close by.
When Sue and Michele say goodbye to me, they gave me the warmest and most sincere hugs that I have ever experienced. What a wonderful memory.
Thank you to both of you. I'm so happy to have met you.
Sue, Michele and Vern at Blackstrap Lake
"Picture of Blackstrap Lake sunset July 3lst from Sue, Michele & Vern's camp site."
[Wow! Great picture with the camera phone! Impressive. Josie]
Anonymous said...What a serene view K. Wish I was there. Happy Trails, Love Jo
When I get back to my campsite after that wonderful dinner, the man next door calls out that my friend is back, meaning the beaver but it doesn't spend the night chewing another tree.
Someone took the two big toilet tissue rolls out of womens' bathroom while I was at dinner. Have to steal pieces from the mens' bathroom. Can't believe it!
This part of the park is for tenters only. The campground for trailers and motorhomes is 9 km. down the road where the sand beach is. Right!
Message on blog from them: "Hi Karen. Sue, Mick & Vern here. We are so surprised the miles you have made. Hope your knees hold out, we know you can do it. We are so thrilled to have met you.
Safe Journeys. A warm hug from us to you."
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