The plan: four nights and five days of motorcycle riding to and from and around the Kootenays for my 37th birthday; a couple of nights spent camping on the way out and return, and a couple of nights at a rental bunky cabin on a beautiful lake. The reality: we have a fourteen year old dog who is in great shape for her age but has had a health issue pop-up, nothing life threatening but more of an inconvenience for her and us. We decide to leave a day later to make sure she’s back in good form before we leave her with a dear friend. New plan: three nights and four days; we ride straight to the cabin in Nakusp for the two nights and one night of camping on the way home. We’re looking at a nearly eight hour riding day- realistically ten with gas and food stops along the way. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done a day like that so off we go.
Nothing like the low rumble of the machine beneath you to jump start the thawing of a cold and jaded heart. At times it’s been hell and this is the first time in recent years I’ve been able to turn away from the constant grabbing and pulling and gnawing without fear of backlash for taking a moment to my goddamn self. If there is a hell it’s not at all hot and filled with burning souls- others to share in suffering, but it is instead dark and desolate and deeply, deeply cold. Not today though, today is anything but cold. By 8am in Vancouver it’s already 22 degrees celsius and meant to go up two degrees at a time by the hour until well into the afternoon. With the promise of adventure and my husband Mitch as company, a fully defrosted heart by day’s end seems like a guarantee.
Kickstands up we head eastbound toward the Kootenays. The first leg of the day’s ride is smooth and encouraging. With the warm summer sun enveloping me like a hug and a soundtrack for the road playing in my ears I think to myself, I could ride like this forever. As we get further away from the city, the edges of the highway start pulling my eye. The now green borders are becoming more freckled with the colours of native flowers. goldenrod, daisies, fireweed and more, their presence a reassurance to me and the bees. Looking for these signs of hope have become a habit. Even back in the city I compulsively scan for the over-looked hidden gems often seen as weeds. The common dandelion, the tiny, bulbous, yellow cones of pineapple weed (wild chamomile), the almost spinach like leaves of broad-leaf plantain, all plants historically revered by local First Nations* for their nutrients and healing properties, these so called weeds, reaching out to us from cracks in the concrete below, desperate to reconnect and sooth our woes. It’s in taking stock of these healers around me as I walk through the busy city landscape that I am comforted by the natural world’s resilience and adamance at showing up for us despite how much we take it for granted.
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| Falkland Pub |
About an hour past Hope and around 10 kilometres past our last gas stop in Eastgate along the number 3, Crowsnest Highway, any flow we had going on the highway has come to a halt. A dump truck has flipped (driver unharmed) at a narrow switch back section of the highway, blocking it completely and word is it could take up to six hours to clear the way. Fuck. This means about an additional two hour detour added to our day as we head back to Hope and north along the Coquihalla, a highway we were aiming to avoid though a faster route than the number 3 that we settled on. It is at this revelation that I wonder if later I will be eating my words from earlier… “I could ride like this forever.” Though words that were thought and not said, I may be punching them back into the god forsaken mouth of my mind by day’s end.
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| Motorcycle A/C & Mitch |
We forge onward fast in attempt to make good time. The Coquihalla is nothing to write home about. A less scenic highway than the ones around it with its wide lanes, a common route for semi-trucks and dump-trucks hauling a load with a place to go through mountain passes of mostly uniform, second and third growth forests in the distance. Anyone who knows it knows it’s just a quicker means to an end but it ain’t bad. The hours pass and the day grows hotter as we encroach on the desert of Kamloops. We’ve decided to by-pass Kelowna to avoid the almost guaranteed traffic piling through there. It is now 34 degreed celsius and desperate for a cool down we slam gatorades and water inside air conditioned gas stops every hour or so and have now initiated motorcycle A/C. What is motorcycle A/C? It’s when you take a bag of ice stabbed with holes and bungee it directly in front of you on your bike so that you may receive a heavenly spritzing of icy cool water as you ride. It does indeed work and lasted about 100 km each time which was around the distance that Mitch’s small prism tank would get thirsty. Gas, hydrate and refresh ice bag on repeat. When we pass through Vernon, we invite our friend who lives in town to join us for a portion of the last leg of the ride to the Needles ferry. We need to catch the ferry before 9:45pm to get us across Arrow lake to the side that we’re staying on. I’m on my Bonnie, Mitch with his custom Sportster and Jordan joins us with his Yamaha Tenere. Him and his bike would be our saviour and we didn’t even know it yet.
It is during our final gas stop in Cherryville that we realize we won’t make the last 9:45pm ferry to get us across the lake to the side that our booked cabin is on. On the ferry website the schedule says that from 10pm - 5am the ferry is on demand. We don’t know what that means exactly but I hold onto that in my mind as we rush on. The sun has gone down and we’re losing daylight fast. Aside from a clear pair of glasses, my helmet visor is tinted. With the early launch and the late sunset I didn’t anticipate riding in the dark. Riders beware that riding in rural areas during summer twilight into the night can be deadly. As the light disappears ALL of the bugs start to come out and so does the wildlife that was hiding from the day’s heat, to feed. Ping….Ping.. Ping. Ping, ping, pingpingpingping. Flying insects everywhere slowly filling up my already compromised view. I wipe my visor with my glove but that only makes it worse. Out of desperation I lift my visor but the view through my glasses is quickly filled with the carcasses of dead bugs and my face is being hit in a semi-automatic paced assaulted. The big ones hurt. They’re nearly getting into my closed mouth. It’s a total massacre. Meanwhile deer seem to have a death wish as they dance in front of us in the dark. At one point I’m pretty sure I saw the silhouette of a wolverine or badger scurry only a few metres before us but I can’t be certain because at this point I’m relying on only a tiny sliver of visibility amongst the insect graveyard that has become my visor. We’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s dark and stopping is hardly an option. It’s in moments like these I remember that stupid and brave are at times interchangeable. We’ve slowed down our pace immensely and with that Jordan flies past us from the rear and takes lead. With his powerful, wide angle head light leading the way, our visibility is much improved. It’s what his bike was made for after all. Thanks Jordan! He leads us all the way to Needles ferry which wasn’t the plan but that’s a good friend for ya. We arrive there after 10pm and see that another car is waiting as well and the ferry is docking on the return. Green light. We get on. Holy hell, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. It’s only twenty to thirty minutes to the cabin rental from the other side of the ferry. After a fourteen hour day we’ve finally made it.
The next day is a gorgeous one. We wake up to see a stunning lake front and mountain panorama that boasts both sunrise and sunset. Bordering the dock are tall beams with little swallowtail bird homes at the top and we can see the baby birds poking their tiny heads through the hole, calling out as there parents swoop to and fro catching breakfast for the whole family.
After a morning spent sipping coffee and taking in the view we get breakfast in town and with only one more night at the cabin, we plan on spending the day soaking up the sun and beautiful lake front of our accommodations. When we get back to the cabin our friend Priscilla messages me, “Are you in Nakusp?” Turns out her and her partner Cory caught sight of where we are online and they happen to be in Nakusp too. Our friends have a few hours to spare before they adventure on as they are also spending the week exploring and camping around southern BC. They join us at our rental for a swim and a lovely catch up and I’m just so damn pleased that the universe aligned the way it did for all of us that day.
That evening Mitch and I take a couple of kayaks out and does the sunset ever deliver. The lake is tranquil and the sky is a cascade of deep gold, dusty rose and denim blue above the big ol’ mountain tops. Yesterday’s exhaustion is long well rested away.
The remainder of the night is spent sitting fireside, basking in the day’s bliss until the sky grows dark and the stars start poking holes through the black blanket of sky, under which I sleep so, so good.
*For those around the unceded territories of the Coast Salish people (lower-mainland BC, Canada), a lovely little educational walk to learn more about local Indigenous plants and their healing properties can be experienced through Lori Snyder’s nature/garden walks: https://inharmonywithnatur.wixsite.com/inharmonywithnature
Lands travelled: Syilx Tmixw (Okanogan) and Secwepemcúl’ecw (Naskusp).
Top 5 songs of this trip’s soundtrack:
- Sin in My Heart - Gulch
- Spitting Off the Edge of the World - Yeah Yeah Yeahs & Perfume Genius
- Hertz - Amyl & the Sniffers
- Reigns - Idles
- Crazy on You - Heart
Special Thanks to JoPo for taking care of our girl Lucy to make this trip possible.
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