Cycling through bear infested waters. That’s how I think of traveling and camping in Canada. Everyone we meet has a different take on which bears are the most dangerous, grizzly or black, and they love telling us all the famous, gruesome stories about intrepid explorers who disappear and all they find is the camera. Or how bears love pepper spray because it’s like seasoning on their dinner. But enough about bears. We were still a little freaked out by the morning’s sighting but it was time to mount up, check the map and head for Chute Lake, about 40km down yonder. The morning was overcast and eerily foggy. Trees stabbed through the grey mist and disappeared into the distance. The trestles had all but gone and we were left with a semi-smooth path dotted with rain filled potholes. The spotting of animal tracks continued to bring out the honking and the singing. We passed a 4×4 parked on the side of the trail, said hello to the driver and kept going. He later passed us and asked if we had seen anything worth shooting, deer essentially. We said no and he continued on his way.
The weather cleared a little as we arriving at Chute Lake in the afternoon. The water looked cold but inviting so we decided to take a quick skinny dip and as you would expect, having seen no one all day (except for the hunting guy), two mountain bikers and a 4×4 came cruising down the trail. We later met the mountain biking couple at the Chute Lake Lodge, a strange hotel-come-railroad-memorabilia-pub, where we ordered a burger and some rhubarb pie and chatted about the trail ahead. There’s nothing like cycling all day to bring out your appetite and we seem to have the eating regimen of hobbits–breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and supper.
The surface of the trail started to break up a little after Chute Lake with large rocks and sandy sections appearing here and there making riding a little tricky. After about 4 hours we stopped at one of the tunnels for dinner and enjoyed the view. A little later we decided to camp a second night and leave the last 20 or so kilometers till the morning. We picked a spot on the trail next to a toilet and bear safe rubbish bin, perfect for storing our food and toiletries. It rained most of the night but there was no sign of bears. In the morning we stopped at one of the many historic ovens along the trail to find water and ended up finding a backpack and a pair of hiking shoes. I had been talking about buying a new pair of hiking shoes and these seemed to fit perfectly, they were a little water-logged from sitting in the rain for god knows how long, but they fit the bill. It’s strange what the universe throws at you. A couple of days before this we found two water bottles and you can never have too many water bottles.
The last run into Penticton meanders through a myriad of wineries and takes you right through into the heart of the town. The trail becomes smooth and the scenery is spectacular. It’s a beautiful end to an amazing, historic 80km journey that we would do again in a heart beat.
Later that day we ventured to the Penticton Saturday morning markets hoping to sell some of our artwork. We met Chad and Megan, a Canadian couple who are cycle touring through Canada and North America, similar to us, so we had plenty to chat about. We had organised a WarmShowers host a few days before so after a brief shop for supplies and a visit to the laundromat it was off to stay with our hosts, Mike and Janet.
by Dave
Escape Plan: A 