Part 2 – Here we go again

August 18^th, 2020

Today was a relatively short ride of about 80 km from yesterday’s endpoint of Maple Creek, SK to the charming town of Gull Lake, SK. Once again, the heat was the biggest factor. The sun beat down relentlessly and staying hydrated was the main priority. There’s nothing quite like taking a sip from your water bottle and having the water come out hot. Yes, hot. Luckily, I had a rotation of water in several water bottles, so there was always a bit of cool water in my backpack.

The scenery alternated between vast, endless fields of wheat and barley, and tough, hilly ranch land dotted with scrub and the odd tree. There were many places where water probably filled shallow ponds in the spring but had become dry patches of cracked dirt with the heat of the summer. A hot, arid wind blew all day, mostly in my favour. I could definitely feel some aches and pains from riding yesterday, and the final 15 or so kilometres were ridden standing up. Still, it was wonderful to be out on the road and to get a chance to appreciate the unique beauty the area offered.

I also had a wonderful experience at an ice cream stand in Tompkins as my day was winding down. I pulled off the highway to grab some extra drinks at a Co-Op gas station and noticed a small, pink building off the back of the parking lot that was selling ice cream. For the sake of fully appreciating the local culture here, I felt it was my duty to check it out. There were a few benches around it where people would have sat and enjoyed their ice cream in pre-pandemic times, but this year there was only a car parked nearby with a family eating ice cream inside of it. The lady working the stand seemed very surprised to see anyone out biking, and asked where I was heading. I told her my story of being flooded out of this part of the highway in 2010, and she said she remembered how bad it was that year. She said she thought it was great that I was getting the chance to complete the ride and after a short chat she ended up giving me an ice cream on the house! It was a wonderful reminder of the kindness and generosity that I was always so lucky to find wherever I went during the original brainStormRIDE. I find it can be easy to forget that there is so much good in everyday people. Whether it’s true or not, I also like to think that Canadians are extra special in this regard.

Finally, an update on the lost speed/odometer. We looked all around the spot where I changed my tire yesterday, as well as scouring the side of the road for anything shaped even remotely like the display unit, but came up empty. I’m still tracking each day on Strava, so we’ll have an accurate account of total and daily distances. However, my bike looks naked without the display.

Tomorrow is going to be the longest day of the trip: 115 km to Morse, SK. I’m going to try to get an earlier start so that less of the day will be spent during the hottest hours. If I remember from the drive out to Medicine Hat, there should also be some interesting spots to check out along the way!

August 19^th, 2020

Today’s leg was the longest out of the four in terms of distance: 115 km from Gull Lake to Morse. The day didn’t get quite as hot as yesterday or the day before, and there was a little more cloud cover that took the edge off the heat. Despite the distance and the temperature, it was a wonderful ride. The first part of the day was filled with fields of grain that stretched off into the horizon in every direction. There were several “inland terminals” where giant grain silos would load up trains made of hundreds of cars. Many of the small towns along the way didn’t even have a gas station. The landscape wasn’t devoid of life, but still had an empty feeling. At one point I passed a farm with an old, sun-bleached sign for used agricultural equipment on the fence. There were rusted out tractors peeking up from the tall grass, and piles of decrepit parts throughout the property. As I continued on, there was a hill on top of which a line of ancient combine harvesters stood sentinel over the next set of fields. I got the impression that life here was hard, both on machines and the people that relied on them. 

I stopped in Swift Current half way through the day to meet Kyla for lunch at a Tim Horton’s. I may have said this before, but my measure of “is it a town?” is whether or not a place has a Tim’s. Swift Current has three, so it goes without saying that it’s practically a bustling metropolis. It was very nice to get some time inside away from the heat, and it was a real treat to have Kyla there. She’s an expert planner and has made this trip so much easier than when I was doing it alone. She even reminded me yesterday not to make things harder than they needed to be, and that if I needed some cold water delivered to me on the road that she would be there with a dozen bottles as soon as she could. I will confess that I feel little guilty for this trip not being as hard as when I was doing the ride by myself. Almost like it’s cheating somehow. But, I’m trying to not let that stop me from enjoying the time on the road.

The second half of the day took me to Morse, SK which is alongside Reed Lake. It turns out that Reed Lake is a protected area for different bird species that live in its salinated wetlands. There was a two-story wooden tower that gave a spectacular view of the lake stretching off into the distance and I took some shots of the lake. Interestingly, there is a road that cuts across the lake at the turn off for Morse and a sign that has restrictions on vehicle weight for the “ice bridge.” After a little time on Google, I found that several kilometres north of Morse is the town of Riverhurst where provincial highway 42 is intersected by Diefenbaker Lake. It would seem that in the winter they use the ice to get across while in the summer they use a small ferry. For someone who grew up on Vancouver Island, the idea of an ice bridge will never quite sit right with me, but clearly it works for them!

Tomorrow will unfortunately be the last day of this wonderful mini adventure. I’ve been surprised at how quickly riding every day has become familiar again. Truth be told, it’s made me think about what other places I’d like to discover two wheels at a time. Maybe after my next PhD (just kidding, Mom).

August 20^th, 2020

Today, as I completed the 115 km between Morse and Moose Jaw, I thought about how the last few days of riding have really connected me back to my time on the brainStormRIDE in 2010. The feeling of discovering the country under my own power; the purpose in meeting brain injury survivors and their families; the struggle of putting kilometres behind you even when it’s the last thing you want to do. I miss it all, the good and the not-quite-as-good, and I’m very happy to be getting a taste of it again. Even stronger than the pain of the bruises from the last few days of sitting on a bike seat is the happiness and sense of freedom from just putting rubber to road.

The next town outside of Morse was Chaplin, which has a very particular industry. Salt from the salinated wetlands is harvested in great mounds along the side of the highway and gives the effect of snow drifts or sheets of ice. Without knowing what I was looking at, I would have had trouble knowing I was looking at salt and not snow. As the day wore on I got to experience the typical prairie cycle of days of oppressive heat culminating in evening thunderstorms. At first, it was a few dark clouds that gathered here and there without ever becoming much of a threat. Then the small systems coalesced into a single, ominous thunderhead seemingly in an instant. As the sun slipped behind the cloud, I turned to see that I now needed to try to outrun a very dark, very wet companion. At one point, I thought that I was going to be able to escape the worst of it by finishing the remaining 40 km to Moose Jaw before it could catch me. This optimism was short lived. The rain and wind picked up while I was still 15 km outside of town, and lightning danced across the sky to the south. It made for a rather dramatic conclusion to the day: arriving in Moose Jaw with a rainbow in front of me and lightning beside me. At least I couldn’t complain about it being too hot anymore.

I had a wonderful surprise visit with an old friend and “Ride Mom,” Barb Butler. True to form, she pulled over on the side of a lonely stretch of highway to greet me and I was instantly transported back to 2010 when Barb last found me riding along the side of the road. After hosting me in her home in Regina for several days before, Barb had decided that instead of taking the normal southern route to her annual sojourn in Barrie, ON, she would drive the northern route to catch me on the road before again hosting me in Barrie. Somewhere in the wilds of northern Ontario, a car pulled over to the shoulder in front of me and Barb got out to meet me with a smile and a hug. It was only for a few minutes, but it lifted my spirits for days. This time, she had driven from Regina to catch me again as I finished this last leg. We had a (socially distanced) chat outside a closed café in Parkbeg and, despite not having seen each other in many years, it was like I saw her yesterday. Once again, my spirits were lifted. I think the ease with which old friends can reconnect is the true measure of the depth of the friendship. She also pointed me to another surprise at the Parkbeg café: an envelope taped to the side of the building with my name on it in bold print! On the back of the envelope was a message of encouragement from Kyla and inside was a handful of Scotch mints to enjoy while I took a break.

Finally, there has been an interesting turn of events brought on by reminiscing with Barb. It turns out that I wasn’t correct about being dropped off in Moose Jaw when I took a bus to get around the flooding. In fact, I was dropped off in Regina. Well, I think we all know what that means: a bonus day of riding from Moose Jaw to Regina tomorrow! I’ll start in the morning after I give a talk at the annual Winnipeg Institute of Theoretical Physics Symposium (via Zoom) and Kyla will pick me up in Regina before we travel on to Winnipeg later in the day. It’s going to be long, but it will absolutely be worth it to wrap things up so definitively.

August 21^st, 2020

My apologies for this update being a few days late; Friday was a very busy and long day. After deciding on Thursday night that an additional day of riding would be needed to properly finish off the brainStormRIDE, Kyla and I made a plan for Friday. First, I was giving a talk to the Winnipeg Institute for Theoretical Physics in the morning over Zoom, then I would ride from Moose Jaw to Regina where Kyla would pick me up and we would drive all the way back to Winnipeg. When I originally signed up to give a talk, I had in my mind that there would be so much extra time to work on a presentation since I was “only” riding ~100 km a day and would have Kyla waiting to pick me up or drop me off each day. As it was, I could only just muster the energy to do these nightly updates before falling asleep. That meant that I worked on the talk on Thursday night for as long as I could before sleeping for a few hours and waking up early in the morning on Friday in the hopes of finishing everything up in time for my 9:15 AM (Moose Jaw time) slot. It was down to the wire, but I was ready in the end. That meant the only thing left to do was enjoy the last 71 km to Regina!

And enjoy them I did. I was clear and sunny, with an encouraging tailwind for the whole day. The road was straight and flat with fields of wheat, corn, and barely in every direction. For some reason, the feelings of finality and accomplishment really only sunk in as I was doing this last leg. I stopped in a small town called Pence that was less than 30 km outside Regina for a mandatory ice cream break and enjoyed the shade of a tiny park in the middle of town. I think everyone else had the good sense to stay indoors where the air conditioning was, so I had what felt like the entire town to myself. The peace that sitting on a bench and listening to the birds brought me was priceless. Those moments are the ones that are so precious, and yet so easy to overlook. For the last hour of riding into Regina I felt like I was flying along the pavement. All the aches and weariness of the last few days completely evaporated and I sailed into the city on a wave of happiness. I met Kyla at the predetermined Tim Horton’s location (Regina, being a big city by the aforementioned standard, has several locations) and we had a small celebration to mark the moment. I doubt she appreciated the sweaty, dirty hugs I gave her, but she definitely shared in my excitement.

By the time we were leaving Regina it was almost 3 PM and we had more than six hours of driving ahead of us, as well as jumping forward an hour at the Saskatchewan/Manitoba border. We stopped at the sign for Manitoba where I had taken a picture ten years ago and collected the last picture to complete our full set of prairie province photos. As we neared Brandon, MB, we were treated to a huge thunderstorm that filled the evening sky with lightning. The cloud cover turned the dying light of the day a deep orange hue that made the scene feel surreal. There were cars all along the gravel roads that parallel the highway with people taking pictures of the sunset. It made for a wonderfully picturesque way to end both the day and the ride. The feeling of pride in “truly” going across Canada hasn’t faded a bit. A bit of time on Google tells me that these last 463 km brings the total distance of the brainStormRIDE to 7,210 km. At a total time of 10 years, 1 week, and 2 days, my average speed was 0.08 km/h. So no world records were set, that much is obvious. Then again, that was never the goal. The goal was to connect survivors and their families across the country, to raise funds for the Brain Injury Association of Canada and the Victoria Brain Injury Society — as well as raise awareness of brain injuries in general — by doing something that would grab people’s attention. I’d like to think that I have made progress towards each of these goals, and that some people’s lives may have been changed for the better. I know mine certainly has been.

I’d like to say a special thank you to my parents, Lori and Kevin, for their unwavering support at each step of the ride. They managed to choreograph people, events, and places for me to stay all over the country from their home in Victoria. The ride simply wouldn’t have existed without them. Also, to my aunt, Connie McKenzie, and her children for being the inspiration for this entire endeavour. And to Kyla for being a driving force for the brainStormRIDE from it’s very inception.

Finally, thank you all for travelling along beside me through these updates. An experience never means as much if you don’t have someone to share it with.

Ride safe,

Brad