I literally blew in here yesterday swept along by a fast moving front that came with rain. It chased and caught me after Broadview on Hgy. 3 into Billings. Found myself in the shadow of a toppled tank and old grain elevator changing into rain gear in the lee of shelter before it really let loose. The miles melted away with the push from behind. I reached the rimrock cliffs overlooking this city nestled in the Yellowstone River valley, the green and gold of autumn color below a grand sight..
What I thought was to be a quick in and out turned into something else and an opportunity to catch up on rest and the blogosphere. By the airport before I hit the bike trail along the rim rock a shift cable let go dashing hopes of riding out of town quickly. Got directions to a couple of bike shops all on the other side of town and set out along the easiest route. A high schooler whipped out his smart phone found a map and pointed me off in the direction already headed when i stopped to ask directions. Then with no bike shop in sight where expected crossed busy Grant Ave. and happened to see a person working at a garage nearby. Asked where I could find a bike shop he said oh, it's just across the street from where I'd just come. The Ski Station as it turns out is a summer bike shop but had just switched to winter gear. Scott, the owner replaced the cable that had come loose then gave me a couple of replacements for a minimal charge. Adam, one of his employees, got busy on my behalf, made phone calsl and located a Warm Showers host family I could stay with. The Universe is here to support you. Tomorrow its down the road for the Little Big Horn country. Woody Woodbury and Mary Jane are taking good care of me letting me have the run of the house and use of their computer.
So just a brief update of routing since the last posting with a stories to share. From the Downey's elk ranch 40 miles south of Calgary I headed south on Highway 22 toward Waterton International Peace Park. At Longview about nine miles south where I'd first hit 22 before backtracking I met an amazing woman when I stopped at a roadside cafe to warm up. She's an energy healer, and clairvoyant among other things as it turned out.. She told me some things about myself affirming what came to me earlier as well as a route of travel drawing me to the Little Big Horn country. Earth Energies her card read. I stayed awhile longer for soup and sandwich to hear more.
The second day south and within an easy days ride of Waterton I'm asking the question late in the day where are we supposed to camp tonight? I hear top of the next hill in a lovely spot. I'm thinking trees and rivers something similar to other camps projecting something into words not otherwise implied. At the top of the next grade not far south of Pincher Creek and dark coming on I see trees up ahead, that must be it but then I come to a farm with brightly painted red out buildings. I hear stop but hesitate and then stop again as I continue on thinking this can't be the place. Then I get to thinking maybe I screwed up. At the next farm stop and ask if I can set up a tent somewhere in the yard. No, they don't know me. This was in a place with trees. Get to the top of a far hill where the road flattens out. I see some tall brush off to my left ahead and a possible camp site and stop near a barb wire gate to go in. But the wire holding the gate fast was so tight I couldn't budge it, blocked, getting colder and darker- I'm getting the message. I retreated about a mile to where that inner Guide said stop. Turns out Gary had just purchased the place in June and was batching it. Showed me his antique car collection in another building he was redoing as a shop. He offered a warm place in one of his out buildings but said your welcome in the house as well. Turns out he's a Christian who believes deeds matter more than just words, a shower, bed, conversation and food kindnesses extended to a stranger. Listen to your inner Guide when in doubt, It didn't come to me until later that his address added up to the number thirteen, a lucky number according to the Maya way of thinking that means love. The divine communicates with us in a variety of ways if we pay attention, sometimes symbolically.
I was into Waterton Park on 10/6 and left the next day which was Canadian Thanksgiving. Spent a lovely evening over food with a French Canadian couple on a year long trip across Canada and the US. Also met Rick a free spirit living in a van inside the Park. We biked together part way up the now closed for the season road to Red Rock canyon up the Blakiston valley, so beautiful. Many piles of berry laden bear crap on the road a reminder of bruins on the loose but none smoking from fresh deposition. Rick would ride over each with a yahoo whoop to let 'em know he'd been there. Clearly he'd found a place and a home and loved it. But it's a windy place and left the next day for the border wind at my back. A thought came to mind then passed of how nice it would be to have a Thanksgiving dinner somewhere.
Took a short cut into the country over gravel roads to get to the border crossing on Hgy. 2. The pass through the Park had closed for the season. Ended up for the night in a cow pasture camped next to some ancient diamond willow judging from the orange lichen growing on the branches. Thought the new road I descended to get there would be a quagmire if it rained overnight. It did and it was until I took to the grass on the hillside and ended the slipp'in and slid'in slog to the top. Cold, overcast and raining most of that day. At the junction to Hgy. 2 and pavement the stop flag came into mind again at a farm on the corner. So I did and asked if they had a place I could warm up for a few minutes. I was cold. They did and I stayed. Their four kids were off from school and found them all playing a card game of up the river down the river when a wet me showed up. A second Thanksgiving dinner for other friends was planned for later and I was invited. Now how about that! I stayed. Well fed and warmed i thanked John and Charlene Berry for their kindness and hit the road late in the day. The rain had ended by then. They are a Mormon family with deep roots in this part of Alberta.
At dark I rode into Babb, MT 10 miles south of the border and a Thompson Motel stay to dry out. From there out of the mountains through Browning into Great Falls for a night down by the river side. Pelicans of all things swimming on the river. En route a fresh snow on the tent one morning kept me holed up by a camp fire until clearing later in the day. The evening before it began to rain turning to snow. But I had been led to a copse of cottonwood with plenty of fuel for warming/drying and home to two large owls, maybe Great Horned that flew off when I showed up. And it was the only significant woodlands for miles around.
As it happened my grandparents on my dad's side were early homesteaders in the Great Falls area near the turn of the last century. But it was tough go and they returned to Missouri. Soon after my mom and dad were married they taught school in the Great Falls area - connections and reconnections.
Clearly winter is nipping at my heels now with weather patterns and cooler temperatures. But I'm well, taken care of and blessed to have the sky as my roof and a warm sleeping bag to crawl into at days end. More down the road. Love to you all.
Peace Rider
Peace Rider
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