When bikes go south

Thinking that perhaps I should vary my route for once, I decided to head south, instead of north, this morning. I chose a destination and used Google maps to figure out a route. Accordingly, I rode straight south on a shoulderless pothole-covered range road until I came to a secondary highway. This highway is in good repair, but the shoulders are narrow and traffic is heavy. About every second or third vehicle was a truck -- not a pickup truck or a cube van, but a double-bucket gravel truck. Most of the vehicles gave me a wide berth, but the road is not really wide enough for that. As I rode, I remembered that this is the highway where there have been a few fatal accidents, at least a couple of them involving those very gravel trucks. I was sort of uncomfy and decided to head back. I tried one range road, which became gravel after a few hundred meters. About face. I tried the next range road. This one was okay. No shoulders, but also no potholes to speak of, and it was wide and nicely paved.

I even saw a bear, not a common sighting in these parts.

After this exciting event, I came to another secondary highway and rode on west on that for awhile before heading north again on a beautiful and deserted multi-use recreational trail that leads into town.

The trail stops at the golf course, so there I turned east again and headed home. My ride was a total of 35 km. The wind was from the north and fairly strong, and my butt got a bit sore, but riding east and west was easy and pleasant.

I can't say this was one of my favourite rides, but at least I know now that "same old, same old" (i.e., riding north all the time) is not always a bad thing. Going south, I missed the good roads and light traffic; I missed the challenging climbs; I missed the spectacular views; I missed the soaring airplanes and hovering helicopters at the airport. I didn't see any deer or hawks or even cows or dogs or horses.

Just that one bear.