Lots of hills (small mountains) but as I walk up the steep ones, I remind myself that this is like a pilgrimage and so walk light-heartedly and easy.
Pass an elk farm on the way out of town.
When I reach the hamlet of Lindberg, I take a dirt road that arcs around and around, and down and down, a huge hill or small mountain, taking me down to the village below. I was almost going to ride past this road, and village. Sure glad I didn't. Very tired, and everything is wet.
It is the best downhill for the whole trip, like descending into Smoky Lake only on a nice dirt road which I love. I thought it was never going to end and had to keep the handbrake on the whole time as it was so very steep. Who'd ever find me if I fly over the edge in that area - the wolves and/or the bears. I am wearing Murray's whistle, though. Only the top halves of the trees show up above the edge of the road at first. The gully goes down deeply. They are white birches, and this would make such a great picture but I don't stop. I had had no idea that the road above is SO far above. Speed is not my 'thing' - I always have the handbrake on when I go down hills.
At the bottom, finally, I reach Lindberg's little Spring Park, in a beautiful valley, with wood-seated swings - imagine - couldn't resist -had to try them out. Just like 'when I was a kid'.
Took out all my wet stuff - heavy condensation every night, or rain - and hung them to dry on the fencing all around me...tent, tarp, sleeping bag, clothes. Must have made the neighbours cringe. Eat, drink at the picnic table and write some journal pages, and then repack everything.
Before I leave, I stretch out on my fleecey for a nap under a tree just outside the playground fencing. Just getting relaxed when I see a cyclist speed by. Can hardly believe it. What a rare occurance in this part of Canada.
Then I see same cyclist swing around, look back, turn around and come slowly over. A bit younger than I, and in great shape I notice. I invite him to sit on the fleecy beside me - where else except the swings and I'm not rested enough to get up yet. He sits and chats when along comes a neighbour on his riding mower who I introduce to his almost neighbour, Joel, and he chats to both of us for a long while before going back across the street to his house.
Joel's wife and kids have gone to Edmonton for the weekend.
Joel stays for about 3 hrs., and cycles with me to the variety store at the bottom of my next great hill going up and east. We stop to look at a farm with handsome Arabians, and I get a good shot of them behind Joel. They're beside a very old shed that I want to get a picture of anyway so I'm in double luck.
There's still power in the battery of my Samsung camera but not for much longer, probably. Sure wish I hadn't bought a Samsung as no generic cords will fit. Joel is from Miramichi area in N.B. He's an engineer, and the plant he worked for back there closed up so he now works at Windsor Salt, Lindberg, AB. They kept their house in the Miramichi, though, and will return to it in the not-too-distant future. He seldom sees another cyclist in Lindberg but says he loves to cycle up the back road to a lake halfway up the hill. If I had the strength, I would go up to see this lake but that strength developes slowly, daily, the further east I get. Haven't got enough of it yet, though.
At the top of the valley from the backroad, he says, you can see all the way to St. Paul and they watched St. Paul's fireworks from up there. He is only the 8th cyclist I've seen since Edmonton, 3 girls being together in St. Paul. He tells me he takes his bike to Edmonton for repairs. No bike shops out here.
The climb out of the valley takes forever - trudge, trudge, as I slowly make my way on foot up and up, past Windsor Salt which is only 1/2 way up.
Lindberg is in a very deep valley, again near or beside the river.
More hills, strong hot sun, heat! No rain!
Finally, Whitney Lakes Prov. Park, and a swim beyond a sign reading 'Warning: Red Itch'. Red Itch warning signs seem to be posted on most lakes up here because of the fleas on the ducks, and the lakes being small, but this condition is worse after a hot spell. No hot, dry spell here this year, it seems, so probably not a hazard yet. All you have to do is be sure to towel dry really carefully when you get out of the water, before the fleas can burrow under your skin.
Maybe 2 dozen people on the beach - not like Sandbanks, ON with its thousands.
Very coooooold water, had to go partway in, then out, then in etc.
I text messaged this note: 'Getting to Heinsberg tomorrow. Water very cold here but refreshing. Andy was not up when I left this am so no omelette for me, as promised.'
Set up tent. After eating noodles mixed with Mary Kaiser's asparagus energy mix I go back to the beach.
Only one family still here by 7 pm - a woman with 2 daughters, 4 & 6 I discover later, playing in the sand, whose husband and friend are out in a speedboat.
Didn't know them at the time, but I see the boat come in, then the woman runs back into the trees towards the parking lot, a man gets out of the boat and heads down the beach away from me while the other man stays beside the children. Three min. later, the woman returns to gather up the children, and a white truck backs into the water further down. The man walks back up the beach and both men push the boat down the shore to the boat-trailer to put the boat on, and the woman tries to gather everything together. I notice her picking up a baby which I hadn't seen before, put her in a stroller, and then struggle to push it through the thick sand with the 2 little girls following, so I struggle over (legs not now working very well) and the thick sand hindering my walking so its slow going - like walking through pudding. I offer my help and pick up the lawnchairs. As I follow her down a sandy path, I notice the man coming up behind us. When he gets close, I can see that he has blood running down both sides of his ears, and lots of it has by now congealed on his face and neck. He scoops up the rest of the stuff on the beach and follows. At their SUV, he asks me, non-chalantly, about where I'm headed as though being bloody were a normal occurance - although I guess it is for guys.
It turns out he was trying his hand at water-boarding, first time, (will it also be his last, I wonder) and the board flew up and clipped him behind the ear. Lainie wants him to go to the hosp. but it's in Lloydminster, 1 hr. away, and he doesn't seem to want to. He just chats, instead. Then off the guys go, each in their own truck as they had both met her here after work, with a honk and a wave to me, too, and Lainie stops to say goodbye to me so I ask if I may give her girls a copy of Tom E. Toad - my last copy. She wants to come back tomorrow with cookies for me - see how wonderful the north people are. I was so moved by her. The prettiest curly blonde Mommy I've ever seen. As sweet as an eastcoast girl. And the handsomest blood-encrusted daddy I've ever seen.
After they have all left, I look around, and notice I'm alone in the park. One fellow I had been talking to said that a bear was seen in Ross Lake recently, and that is only one lake over, so I rub extra Vics Vapour Rub on the panniers to cover any smell of my food inside. Used extra on the tent, too, and left the Vics baggie on top of the food pannier. It's worked so far.
Around 3 am, dawn, I'm wakened by a vehicle which drives in with music just a-thumping. It stops nearby, near the waterpump, and someone gets out. Then I hear a backdoor slide open, and know it's a panel truck. All the pervs have panels, don't they? I grab the bearspray, and bike flashlight that I keep in the tent every night, and wait with my heart beating almost as loudly as their boombox.
Voices - one man, and perhaps one woman - very close. Five minutes pass, a long 5 minutes, and then they seem to leave. It would be impossible to tell whether or not they just drove out a little ways up the lane because of the woods.
Then every noise in a 10 mile vacinity becomes magnified, to me, and I stay awake until 5 am.
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