Only 12 kms. to Waskatenau, where I am so tired when I arrive that all I can eat is one pancake and one egg - $5.34.
West end of Iron Horse Trail, (the start if you're coming from the west), Waskatenau, AB.
The Iron Horse Trail/TCT is horrid; as bad as the worst part of Prince Edward County's Millenium Trail which is the part that goes into Hillier from the east.
Will still cycle, but only on the roads/highways, going into each town along the TransCanadaTrail system to check out points of interest. I will have to stay in Smoky Lake Saturday night and Sunday so I can mail home stuff to lighten my load.
Iron Horse Trail starts here, at Weskatenau.
It's about noon. I cycle 40 or 50 feet along the trail, and then unload all my stuff in the ditch to dry it all out in the sun, secure the bike to the post, unroll my sleeping mat and fall asleep with my head in the shade of one of the very small trees at the side and the wonderful feeling of my stomach against the slight rise on the slope of the ditch. Two 4-wheelers go past with young boys on them, and one long-distance male hiker with a backpack and wearing a very yuppie style hat perhaps picked up in Africa. The trail is not popular.
When I awake, I feel awful, but I repack my gear.
Surprising, a grey pickup starts to drive down the trail, and stops beside me. The man inside asks if I'm okay, and while we chat I begin to feel better. He also tells me that the Iron Horse is suitable for quads (as they call them here) but not for bikes so when I start out again, I try it and then go back and choose the road that runs along beside the trail. It veers off a way down and heads north to the highway.
Even the road was hard to cycle on because the roads department, in its inate wisdom garnered from conventions in big hotels, in big cities with lots of free booze, has layed it with big-sized gravel. What sloggin'!
Village of Warspite
At Warspite, I leave the main road to go into the village to check out the trail. Since it was originally a rail line, it will go into each town. Here I thought it might be good enough to use, and so start out on the actual trail. The folks hereabouts were right. It's unusable for a bike but I do manage 5 m. before stopping at a little bridge, sitting down and eating ravioli in a fliptop can, and then have to push the bike through the soft gravel back to the last intersection to get to a road. I do the rest by road, and eventually a wonderful highway to Smoky Lake.
The highway down into Smoky Lake is a long, long hill, and the coasting is great.
Have bladder infection from forgetting to drink water. One beer is all it takes to set things straight for me. Crazyguy was right - I should have worn a camelpack because I forget to stop and drink water.
Anonymous said: 'I just learned something new about you.
I did not know you drank beer. Cool. Love Ya, Jo'
... Depends upon the environmental conditions, Jo.
Sometimes, one just HAS to drink beer.
July 13: When I wake up next morning in Smoky Lake, I have a very sore bottom lip. It is so swollen that it looks as shiny as though I'm wearing vaseline. Dracula must have bitten me while I slept. Funny, I didn't hear the tent door unzip. There are two white puncture marks on it which look about the size and shape of a staple.
Understatement of the year: The Superintendent of this Smoky Lake campground, Milt McCrae, chatted with me at the picnic table next morning. He says 'The trail (The Iron Horse Trail) is 'unenjoyable' for bikers as they have to be looking down all the time and what with all the rocks, it's very tough going.'
Smoky Lake actually black-topped about 1 mile of their portion of the trail west of the town so I cycled that, too. Where the black topping ends, I try the regular trail, even though I'd left the panniers back at the campsite and the bike is lighter, but it's still too difficult to cycle on.
'Smoky Lake, Pumpkin Capital'
Anonymous said...Pumpkin capital of the world, n I thought Wellington was.'
I find out, actually...Smoky Lake is the pumpkin capital of Alberta, not the world.
Milt said that these pumpkins are made of the hardest cement in the world. It comes from France and hardens very quickly. When it was time to paint the cement pumpkins, someone magnetized each pumpkin first. Then the sprayed paint adhered instantly, and was drawn right to it so that none flew off in a mist. Amazing - the inventions of mankind!!!July 14: The owner of a tea room said even horses shouldn't be ridden on the Trail.
I eat lunch there, find a box after searching several stores as everyone has box-cutters nowadays so they are a rare find, cycle back to the campsite and box up things like my Kryptonite steel cable which is so heavy, throw in my new running shoes having decided to use only my sandals, all my Sudokus which aren't wet (throwing out the wet ones), and head back up to the postoffice after bungee cording the box to the bikerack. I decide to keep the Kryptonite U-lock as the locks in the hardware store are just as heavy.
By now it's 4 pm and I'm in a Chinese restaurant for early supper watching people coming and going into the post office. Out of the 47 vehicles that I see pull in, then out, only 3 are cars, 2 big old ones and one new midsize, and a very few vans, but most are trucks, white ones being predominant. I'm thinking that's probably because when you pick up a gal at a bar, then she gets to see whether you're a good cowboy in a white truck or a badboy in a black one. This way she can make a quicker decision whether to go back into the bar for a further search, or to jump up into the cab of the white truck. Maybe not. Maybe they just buy the white because the interior doesn't get so hot while sitting out on the back acres when they fixing fences.
My site nestles up against a well-wooded ravine, and the coyotes were singing in there in the middle of the night quite close to me. I didn't put the tent on an actual site but back in some trees. Maybe that's why Milt didn't charge me.
The campsite also has prairie dogs, and one lives under my site. They run down their holes when I cycle in and out of the campground.
I cycled 20 km. south of Smoky to see the Victoria Settlement at Metis Crossing, and spotted two wild very dark-brown ponies dashing into the long grasses. It's right on the North Sask. R., so, of course, long coast down the hill, and a fierce ride back up, although my stripped bike is much lighter right now. I take a couple of pictures, sit for a bit in the empty park, and ride back up the hill 3/4 of the way before I have to get off and walk. Big crashing in the woods beside me, which could be bear. Milt says there are bears in this area. I get the bearspray ready, and try to keep calm. A car passes by the time I get to the top but it's pretty quiet otherwise.
This suggestion from Milt: 'When pavement is replaced/renewed, first a machine scoops the old away, then grinds it up, and then it goes to a dump. Milt got some for the park as you see in this picture.'
Now, I have a dream. A green dream. What if our governments compelled the paving companies to put the old ground-up pavement onto the local trails, on top of the stones and rocks and holes. The highways team with pickups pulling trailers. What if, instead, the trails teamed with families of cyclists pedaling along for smooth miles; some hauling baby trailers, some hauling camping gear, some hauling dog trailers, some with just tents, and all having great fun off-highway. Only when politicians wake up will that ever happen? Your guess of 'when' is as good as mine.Milt suggests I use the highway which is what I decided yesterday.
Prairie Dogs here so cute. There are several at the camping area. They turn out to be the only ones I ever see for the rest of the trip. Years ago, as you drove across the prairies, they were always popping up beside the highways. Didn't see any Robins, either. Where have all the Robins, and Prairie Dogs gone? Gone to flowers, everyone?
All the western towns have these campgrounds, it seems, and paying goes by the honour system, although they are cleaned and cared for by people like Milt. You just drop your money into a slotted box. Cheques are to be made out to the town.
Milt said I don't have to pay for these two nights, but because I haven't the strength today to even shake a leg let alone pedal one, I guess it will be three nights. Thanks Milt!
Smoky Lake Church, the prettiest one that I passed.
Smoky Lake Railway Station Museum
Me, Darlene and Milt McRae. I was out cycling tonight to dry my hair and spotted the castle Milt had been describing to me earlier on 146th. I cycled down the back lane to have a good look, and heard their voices near the house so called out 'I'm not snooping, I'm just looking. Well, maybe I AM snooping' and laughed. Milt peeked out from behind the garage and invited me in, introduced me to Darlene, and showed me through Whyte Inch Castle. He dug the foundation chest-high, culled round 'hard-head' stones from the countryside of friendly farmers, placed every rock himself, the steel rods and poured cement between the double thickness of the stone walls, (it's stone inside and out), the oak stairs with a cast iron railing which spiral up to a loft, the roof, (there's an attic above the loft even) and all for his grandkids, lucky them. You should see the inside. The ceilings have raw beams. WOW!!!" Five years labour of love. The stones are beautiful, and over the two doors he has formed a heart with rocks for Darlene, and family. Neighbours have helped by donating artifacts that are suitable like the knight in shining armour, swords, shields, crests...
Strangely, and eirily, Darlene and I had met earlier in the hardware/Sears store. We were both looking at the Red Hats hats, scarves and fun stuff. I bought small gifts for both Wilma and Pauline (neighbours) thinking they belonged to the Red Hats when it was the Grannies they belong to and for Josie and Mary Esta. The gifts were all parcelled up for the mail-back. Darlene and I had chatted a bit in the store together. Isn't life wonderous!
Milt McCrae's 1947 Ford
Milt says 'We meant to trade it in for a newer model but you know how it goes.' We laugh, and I think 'You mean when your ship comes in'. In Milt's case, that would be a stone boat, right? Wonder if they ever even had stone boats in Alberta. (I giggle aloud in my tent that night as I think of this). If one goes down Morrison Point Road here in Prince Edw. County, one will see the stone fences that caused the early deaths of the Irish pioneer farmers of yore. They sure understood the workings of stoneboats.
Wish I could have afforded to keep my old '64 Fairlane with the roll-down back window 25 yrs. ago but had to stop using it as we couldn't get seat belts for it. Milt had no seat belts in the '47 Ford, either, and it surely did feel strange at first when we headed down the highway. I got used to it, of course, a kind of freedom, safety aside. Bikes are fun, too, though, but that was more fun in that moment of time. I want more!!! He takes me as far as the farm where Darlene grew up. There are still several antique heritage sheds and barns standing there, desserted. I take a picture of it in the mist on my way out next morning. Darlene is, fittingly, the president of the Smoky Lake museum, beside the park here.
I had bought a spray can of water repellent earlier when I was in the hardware store, and so sprayed my jacket and the tent tarp. The next time it rained, it was a bit better, but not much.
Comments from viewer: Anonymous said...Hi Karen, Serge and I here, want to let you know we got married July 4th finally, your blog pages are awesome, Serge was just fiddling around and came across it, actually he was looking through google to see if Des had something and here you are, take care of yourself, serge says keep the wind at your back, Ann
July 15, 2008 4:31 PM
Cool castle. Terri is very pretty...just like her Mum. Thinking of you. Love Jo
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