Aug. 18, 1997: 4100 kms after I left on August 8, I have returned in one piece, albeit with numb hands, damaged hearing, and a very sore rear end. Despite this, I am already thinking about another trip next summer; this is probably no surprise to anyone.

"Monk" the dog looks on in Penticton - look at that wide wear stripe - proof of the curvey roads in B.C. Click for a bigger image

The plan was to head out to B.C. for a couple of days to meet with some university buddies for an informal reunion and some good clean fun in Penticton. The invite came in June, so immediately my thoughts drifted towards taking my bike. True to my nature, proper preparations were put off until the day before I left, and the 36 hours prior to my departure were quite frantic.

Step 1: Get Class 6 Licence

Aug. 7 was the big day -- and quite anti-climatic. I couldn't sleep the night before, for one main reason. Most people in town recognize me on my bike (as I am the only one in town that rides) so if they saw me being tested, and I failed, well that would be terribly embarrassing. I was even obsessed about what to wear -- it was supposed to be 30 degrees the next day. Normally if I was just going to putter around town, shorts, t-shirt, helmet, and tennis shoes would suffice. But I'm trying to make a good impression here, so...I suited up in full gear and sweated like da pig dat I am. All this worry was for naught. The test comprised being followed around by a van and being honked at with a horn from the Queen Mary in order to see if I could turn left or right. In essence, a piece of cake. Remember, this is a small town. No lights, little traffic, and no need to worry. The most amusing part was when I told the tester I was leaving for BC the next day. She was quite surprised and warned me to be careful.

Step 2: Additional Insurance Coverage

What a rip-off! On top of my $450 of basic insurance, fire, theft, and vandalism insurance was another $614 per year! This coverage I decided to get the day I left. I planned to hit the road at 8 am, but even the best-laid plans... After the dust settled, I was $600 poorer and two hours late starting. Dad and I re-enacted a scene from Easyriders when he followed me to the edge of town to see me off, riding his Twinstar 185. At last my trip had begun.

I have come to learn that there are two places that are even worse riding areas than MB. They are North Dakota and Saskatchewan, with the latter being the ultimate hell. This province combines boring scenerey with straight roads and nasty winds (as does N.Dak) but wins the worst place to drive honors with terrible road quality. Frost heaves are repaired by slapping down asphalt band-aids, creating miles of speed bumps, just high enough to aggravate your aching backside. I saw "Adopt a Highway" signs. I was considering this just so I could go out and pave a section! Montana comes close, but is saved by its lack of speed restictions (in theory) and curvy roads in its Northwest corner.

I took Hwy 2 through this state, and stayed in Glasgow the first night. The next day I passed through Malta, Havre, Harlem, and Zurich. Sorta like going around the world in 300 miles. I was able to make Cranbrook this day only because of the liberal speed limit. I was able to cruise comfortably at 130km/hr all day, but could speed up if the RV traffic allowed. The signs say, "safe and prudent driving" -- so smokey can pull you over if he/she feels you are overdoing it. I did overdo it once: 165km/hr indicated outside of Whitefish. And it's aguably legal. Virginia is for lovers, Montana is for Hooligans!

In Cranbrook, a guy on a Goldwing suggested I take a day to travel some really great roads, and I'm glad I did. Seeing it was my birthday, I

A sight not seen on the prairies. Seeing this brought joy to my heart! Click for a bigger image

decided to treat myself. The route takes you up 3A from Nelson to Kaslo, 31A to New Denver, 6 to Faucier, where you cross the river on a ferry, and then 6 on to Vernon. It was the most fun I ever had with my clothes on! Note to flatlanders: in the mythical land of BC, they tend to put several sharp left- and right-hand turns in a row. The roads go up and down, are very smooth, and set against beautiful scenery. More bench racing bragadiccio: off of the ferry, I chased a local in a souped up late-model Accord throught the mountains. I was able to keep up with him most of the way (remember I'm new at this) and learned more about handling in one hour than the previous several. The day would've been perfect except the pub where I had supper had no malt vinegar for the Fish 'n Chips I ordered. Blasphemy! I hit Penticton the next day and the festivities begun.

Other Highlights and Insights

Most of the bikers I met along the way waved. There was no one group that didn't, although pure Harley types seemed to ignore me more often. That being said, some sportbike riders seemed aloof as well. I saw mostly Harleys, but a lot of BMW's as well. I passed only 2 touring sportbikes, a ZX-7 and a ZX-9.

The closest I came to death was when some fugitive from a personal care home tried to pass me on the INSIDE on a 2-lane hwy. I saw him at the last second, took off, got ahead, and moved over. I can now understand why Los Angeles drivers shoot each other. I wanted to hurt this old sumbitch.

Stopped on the side of the highway for a sore butt break and a pee. Click for a bigger image

The best way to ride on a stock seat is to go balls-out for about 1 hour or so, and then stop and rest, grab a coffee and wash the bugs off of your sheild. This is a great way to meet people. Guys are drawn to bikes, interested in the machinery, and leave wife/kids in the car as they watch you pump gas. Stopping also gives your butt a break as well. I think after all this whining you can tell that I feel the stock seat qualifies as S&M equipment. Maybe I'm a wimp, but most guys I saw who were also touring had a Corbin or something similar.

And the most important thing I learned is that if your helmet falls, it will land visor first. Always. The Montana gales, er, breeze blew mine off of the bike as I was taking a break, scratching the visor. It's called "Big Sky" country because the wind blew everything to Vegas, so there is nothing but wide open spaces.

I did make it back in 2 1000km-days, so it is possible, but that is stetching it in regards to my stamina. Now that I'm home, it's time to change the oil and try to clean the layers of bugs off of the front of the bike. If UPS ever goes back to work, some new accessories should be in soon, so photos and comments will soon follow.

James Sheppard