6 Wheels North: Route 394

 

I took the lead first for the 60-mile final stretch to Reindeer Lake and the village of Kinoosao.  That's Dan in the rear position.  I was glad those dark clouds were behind us.

Right out of the proverbial gate, we began to encounter evidence of the storms that had closed the road earlier in the month.

But we knew that our host for that night, Floyd, had driven the road only days before.  Maybe this was the worst of it, down here in the southernmost region.

At least the surface was well-graded and smooth.  We were able to keep up a fairly brisk pace--when we weren't pausing for photos!  Surely it couldn't get much worse, so we didn't want to miss any opportunities to document the conditions.

But after the turnoff for Zed Lake Provincial Park (about a quarter of the way in) it got significantly worse!

Our admittedly overly optimistic estimate of a two-hour sprint was now looking like a three-hour slog--at best.

By the midpoint (about 30 miles in) the water hazards had been replaced by hard rock shiners, poking up through the gravel.  They're not bad here, but much of the traveling surface was full of embedded stones that made for very rough going at best--dangerous and/or damage-causing impacts at worst.

We'd been told about this stretch for a different reason though.  The road was constructed along a narrow ridge which occasionally dropped off steeply on both sides.  The severely burned forest made the scene even more extraordinary.

As long as we didn't ride too fast, both Rykers handled it well--and seemed ready for more!

Dan and I, however, were beginning to grow weary.  It had already been a long day.  And we still had a long way to go.

I think this is Vanderkerckhove Lake.  That's a mouthful!  But according to the map, there was also McMillan and Carswell.  But there were no signs.  As I approached the bridge, it didn't look like I could straddle the middle section completely with the front wheels, so I tried it this way.

Evidently, the stream of water had done nothing to halt the blaze.  Good thing the bridge was unharmed.  Or maybe it had been rebuilt.  Probably shouldn't linger too long.

Guess we weren't quite done with fording large puddles yet--a new experience for both our machines.  We hoped they didn't get much deeper--or muddier.  But at least there weren't any boulders.

By the time we stopped here, however, the harsh choppy surface had returned.  It doesn't look too bad in the picture, but we were suffering.  I'd been leading, and I'd really wanted to make it till my trip meter indicated that we "only" had 10 miles left.  But this wide, level spot popped up out of nowhere, and I didn't want to pass it up.  I don't remember what the mile "marker" was, but there were less than 15 to go.

It didn't help that the clouds had cleared and it was HOT.  And our speeds had been low, so we'd not been getting much cooling that way either.  We stepped back into the shade of the forest and shared a snack--for as long as we could stand the mosquitoes.  Once it seemed that our internal organs had risen back into their proper places, we saddled up again for the final push.

Within minutes, new challenges were introduced to the mix.  We encountered several steep hills that had been gouged up with storm run-off.  The rocks returned with a vengeance, but they were just as likely to be loose as embedded.  Most resemblance to a maintained gravel road vanished, and we were creeping along on a 4x4 trail--engine cooling fans blaring.  It was not the kind of riding our Rykers were designed for.

At least an hour later, we saw the first road sign in a very long time.  We'd made it to the Saskatchewan border!  The white sign on the bottom reads, "Welcome to Kinoosao, Sask, Home of the Grand Slam Lodge."  Then, below the caricature of a bear holding a fish, it says, "Welcome Lodgers!"

Those last dozen miles had been brutal.  If we hadn't been so exhausted--and hadn't known that Floyd was expecting us--it might have been tempting to turn around.  But now we were less than two miles away!

We didn't know it at the time, but we'd just crossed an arm of the enormous Reindeer Lake.  With a surface area of over 2,500 square miles, it's the ninth largest in Canada.

We took a bunch of pictures (of course), congratulated each other, and restarted our engines for the last time that day.

After passing through the settlement of Kinoosao, we spotted this sign at a junction, high up in a tree.  The arrow is partly covered by leaves, but it clearly points to the left.  So we followed it.

The sandy surface was sooooo nice and smooth!  I could already taste the fish dinner we'd been promised!

Then the path in the wood diverged again.  And again, there was a hand-painted sign for the lodge.  But this time, there was no arrow.

6 Wheels North: Leaf Rapids to Lynn Lake

 

For Dan's second attempt to get gas in Leaf Rapids, he stepped back into the glass booth and whipped out his ATM card.  His credit card had previously failed the cumbersome multi-step process--as had both of mine before that.

And it worked!  The machine may have drained his entire bank account--he'd find out later.  But regardless, life-giving fuel was flowing through the hose!  While he finished, he invited me to roll up closer and fill my tank on his "dime" too--so I wouldn't have to go through all that trouble again with my ATM card.  It was an awfully nice gesture.  And I gladly accepted!  Besides saving me the hassle, it would get us both on the road that much quicker.  And by this time, we were getting overheated out there in all our safety gear.

Leaf Rapids is a town, but the residential section lies on a spur road on the back side of the hill.  The large complex visible in the last photo is supposed to have everything a village of 350 people could need.  But it's closed on Sundays--the day we passed through.

Not sure why we were stopped here, but there's always something to get out or put away, zip up or zip down--or at least check on.  And it's a good excuse to snap a picture of the surroundings.  Here you can see that we've recently come down from that high point in the distance.  You can't see what's ahead, but we're about to drop even farther.

In the meantime, check out that awesome mud splash pattern on my Ryker's front end!  I've seen stickers on bikes and trucks that mimic that (I kid you not), but this is the real deal!

This is where Southern Indian Lake (this way) meets Granville Lake (that way), but it's all part of the Churchill River system--I think--and is flowing hundreds of miles northeast to where I turned around 11 years ago.  In the Rocky Mountains, it's much easier to figure out where rivers are heading--and the difference between rivers and lakes.  In northern Manitoba, there's water everywhere.  And it literally all runs together.

This is that way (Granville).  It's kind of like the old "Who's on first?" Abbott and Costello routine.

Yes, this is the same bridge.  I wanted to show you that bad spot behind me--several huge, deep potholes in the middle of the span.  It's worse than it looks from here, but I didn't want to go back.   It was a good thing I always slow way down for bridges anyway.  Would not have been a good location to lose control of the vehicle.

I pulled over here to let Dan catch up again--guess it was just too nice of a spot to pass up.  I'm sure I had something I needed to take care of as well.  He'll be coming over that rise shortly.

The 65-mile stretch from Leaf Rapids to Lynn Lake was all marked as paved on my map.  The part you can see here was quite nice, but there were many gravel sections scattered throughout it as well.

There he is.  Well, his trike anyway.  He's probably taking his own photo from behind me.  Notice the evidence of a recent downpour in that wide-bottomed ditch.  Besides the wildfires, we knew that flooding had also been a problem recently.  And the sky didn't look promising currently either.  The odds of making it to what we'd affectionately come to call K-Town were not really in our favor.  I tried not to let that dampen my enthusiasm for the journey, but Dan's always been better at that than me.

We rolled up to the Lynn Lake ESSO station to find both pumps available--and the store open!  Fueling up here was much easier than it had been at the last place.  And this is where we would return after our attempt to reach K-Town--whether successful or not.

When we went in to pay (and buy snacks, in my case), another customer was chatting with the clerk.  The two ladies obviously knew each other but were not reluctant at all to bring Dan and me into the conversation.

"You're on motorcycles, I see!" the customer exclaimed.  "Where you headin'?"

"Up to Reindeer Lake--we hope," I said.  "We have reservations at the Grand Slam Lodge."

Now normally, when I'm traveling, I don't just reveal my overnight plans to anyone and everyone.  I suppose I'm suspicious by nature.  And I think that tendency has served me well at least a couple of specific times.  But in this case, since we weren't able to call the lodge (no service) to say that we were leaving Lynn Lake for the 60-mile trek through the wilderness, I thought someone should know.  I could not believe the response.

"Oh, you're going to see Floyd then!"  Her face lit up with the words.  He and I are both Canadian Rangers.  We serve on the search and rescue team."

"You're kidding," I chuckled.  "Well, if Floyd hasn't seen us by dark, maybe one or both of you could come looking.  We would very much appreciate it!"

This is the view toward the rest of town from my spot at the pump.  Judging by the appearance of that boarded up building on the right, taxis here have not been an option for quite a while.

But we were fortunate that anything was open.  On the day we passed through, Lynn Lake's residents had only been back in their homes for 10 days--after a mandatory evacuation that had begun near the end of June.  A wildfire had been heading for town, and officials didn't think it could be protected.  But it was. 

This is the short side street heading away from the ESSO.  What you can see is all there is to that edge of town.

Leaving the gas station, we continued southwest past a handful of commercial buildings on each side of the street.  I've no idea what this one is, with the fading forest mural.  But someone spent a lot of time on it--on a very tall ladder.

This shot over my shoulder shows most of downtown.  Not much was going on.  But as I've said, it was Sunday.

Back to the direction we were heading, the single story on the right (behind the light pole) is the post office.  And beyond the group of trees after that is the junction with our road to K-Town.

Once I got there, I saw that Dan was waiting for me in front of several buildings that make up the school.  Continuing straight ahead would take us to the residential neighborhood, then on to a large zinc mine which closed in 1985.  (I just discovered that with a little internet research.)  That would explain why most of the buildings look like their glory days were decades behind them.  

We took a right instead--for Kinoosao and the airport.  Doubt they have any direct flights home, however.  We'd best be careful with the transportation we'd brought with us.

Just past the airstrip, the road turned to gravel (as we knew it would), and we entered another recent burn.  Encouragingly, the surface was fairly well maintained.  But would it stay that way for 60 miles?  And what about those gathering clouds?  So many questions.  But let's be honest.  Remaining in Lynn Lake was not a tempting option.  And Floyd was expecting us!