Bicycle trip

I have to admit that I was feeling a bit manic after the busyness of the funeral arrangements had subsided. I knew instinctively that I needed to channel this energy. One of the methods was to plan a bicycle trip, although the timing and the mode was more inspired by "coincidence".

You see, and I apologize if I have told this story before, I had gone to church the Sunday after I learned of Baxter's death. After the service, I was surrounded by a few of my Westwood peeps, and someone handed me an church envelope. I tucked it into my pocket without thinking (to be truthful, my brain was mostly offline during this time). I was at the hardware store a while later and I pulled the envelope out, thinking there may be a few bucks in it, and I realized that someone had gifted me $1000.

During our roadtrip, I passed on $100 to River and Noah with the expectation that they spend it on mourning Baxter's death. That left $800. On with the story George …

After we had picked up Baxter we were passing through Canmore. Noah had connected with Matt Neumann and he had suggested we stop there for supper on our way through. He provided us with some donair's and advised that he was thinking of biking to the scene of the accident and back in one day. That planted the seed, because I had been thinking of getting a bicycle this last year. I have a bum knee and have been trying to figure out how to naturally rehab my knee. Riding a bicycle seems to be an obvious choice, especially since I am not a big fan of scabs and bandaids (ie public swimming).

I was about 50 km south of Lake Louise when the thought of the roof box coming ajar hit me like a ton of bricks. I slowed down and realized that I needed to get additional straps for the box. I pulled into Lake Louise and went to the outdoor store. The first thing that caught my attention was a frisbee disk. I knew that I needed to pick it up so we could play at the scene on our way through. I picked up a couple of straps and was about to leave, when the clerk told me that they were clearing out their rental bicycles at the end of the season. The cost was to be $800 for these high end bikes. The only caveat was that the bikes were not for sale until September 15th. This meant I would have to return to Lake Louise in a week and a half. I put my name on the list for people who were interested.

I returned Lake Louise on the 18th. I ended up camping at the scene of the accident. I pitched my tent up in the bushes away from direct eye sight of the road. It was a very peaceful night, the stars were out and there was a little rain shower in the middle of the night but it was nice to sleep close. I was reminded of tenting in Bella Coola, when Bax and I were on our motorcycle trip. We were camped by the bella coola river and could hear the roar of the movement and bears less than 100 feet away from the campsite. It was actually in this spot that I came up with some of the design ideas for my grandmother's box. The idea of the bears so close to me seems like a romantic notion now, but at the time I was very nervous and couldn't sleep well.

I ended up having to go to Calgary again because of the hassle of applying for a death certificate for Baxter out of province. I had decided to go into the office and order it in person. The little wooden box for the bike trailer wasn't totally finished and I had to mount the rear rack on the new bicycle.

This ended up taking over 3 hours to complete in Lake Louise and I didn't set out on my trip until about 3pm. The other thing I hadn't totally taking into consideration is the crazy uphill climb out of Lake Louise. As I peddled like frantic, just to get out of town, I had this panicy feeling that I wasn't going to make it very far that first day. The idea of peddling all the way to saskatchewan crossing dissipated in my first hour of biking. I had created this notion that I would have time to meditate on nature, reflect on memories of Baxter while I was experiencing the idyllic scenery of the rockies. In reality I couldn't think of anything beyond my aching butt, and determining the best gear to be in as I struggled up the hills. Oh ya, and the fleeting thought of I HATE YOU MATT NEUMANN !!! crossed my mind a few times.