6 Wheels North: Getting Rough

 

Upon waking on Day 2, there was quite a bit of fog hanging over Powers Lake and town.  By the time we were loaded and ready to go, however, the air was largely clear.

Riding east on Highway 50, we soon turned north onto Hwy 8.  For several miles we crossed, then flanked the Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge.  The road rose and fell among multiple lakes and beautiful grasslands.  Neither of us had been there before.  The adventure had begun!

We'd left the Hygge Hotel around 7:30 and arrived at North Dakota's border with Saskatchewan (after a fuel stop in Bowbells) about ten minutes before it opened at 9:00.  We were first in line.

The sign on the right (behind us) is the Welcome to ND one.  Guess we were sitting in no-man's land here.

But right on schedule, a couple of officials showed up to open the gates, and we had no issues getting through into Canada.  Hwy 8 in North Dakota became Hwy 9 in Saskatchewan.  The plan was to follow that for the rest of the day--all the way to the small town of Hudson Bay.

Moose Mountain Provincial Park (not the photo above) was a brief exception to the prevailing rule of seemingly endless prairie.  It had enough forest and topographic relief to keep us engaged to the point that we didn't want to stop the fun to take any pictures.  I also looked closely at each body of water we crossed within the park's boundaries--but saw no moose.

When the road straightened out again, Dan pulled over at this historical marker.  It tells the story of an old French settlement, if memory serves.

And the crescent moon gravel drive provided the perfect location to check the loads, open some jacket vents, and share a snack.  Back when we crossed Idaho together, Dan had learned how much I like dried banana chips.  So, he'd brought along a huge bag of 'em to share--just one of the many good reasons for inviting him on this trip!

It was also a good opportunity to refold the paper map in my tank bag window.  That green blob at the bottom is Moose Mountain.  The purple highlighting up the center is the zig-zagging, predominately rural route of Hwy 9.

This was our first gas stop north of the border--a Petro-Canada station, appropriately.  Since my last visit to the region, tap-to-pay has become widespread, making filling up for U.S. citizens a bit more convenient.  I used to have to go inside every time.

Of course, as warm as it was this trip, I went inside at least every other time anyway--to get another ice cold drink!  Turns out, two Rykers can fit perfectly, nose to nose, in a standard length parking space.  Wonder what they're talking about.

CO-OP is another Canadian brand of go juice, but this facility did not provide retail sales.  It did, however, provide a nice large space for walking off a few hours worth of riding position confinement.

It's pretty close to 600 miles between Sturgis, South Dakota, and Sturgis, Saskatchewan.  We passed through them both on consecutive days.  This is not a great photo of the latter's welcome sign (upper right corner), but it does show off my monogrammed leather crossbar pad, complete with pewter globe pin.  And no, on this particular cycle (without a crossbar), it doesn't serve any useful function--except that it adds a classic touch to an otherwise ultra-modern design.  And it makes me think of the dear friend in Tillamook who hand crafted it for me!

I'll make one more point about this picture before moving on.  The "MAXIMUM 40" speed limit sign (kph) converts to about 25 mph.  But there's no longer any need to continually run through calculations in my head as I ride through Canada.  Ryker's dash can easily be configured to show kilometers per hour in the bottom right corner!  That freed up more gray matter for converting liters to gallons.

Can't remember why we stopped here--or where it was.  But both machines are striking an impressive pose, don't you think?  Oh, I may have been attempting to show the point near which the grasslands fully succumbed to the forests.  It was finally beginning to look like The North!

Also, I noted in my journal that though paved, the 40-mile stretch from Sturgis to Hudson Bay was extremely rough--with cracks, heaves, and patches.  In fact, one spot that we'd been warned about via Saskatchewan's online highway conditions map was completely broken through.  It looked like a culvert had plugged and the road had washed out.  But by the time we passed over it, it had been graded and compacted somewhat, and we had no real problems getting through.

So, now that I think about it, the reason for the stop above was probably to take a break from the relentless pounding.  Rykers are not known for delivering a magic carpet-like ride.

We made it to Hudson Bay in the middle of the hot afternoon--the 1,400-population town, not the giant body of water hundreds of miles to the northeast.  After topping off with fuel, we headed straight for the restaurant that was recommended by our soon-to-be B&B hostess when I first made the reservation.  The Railway Avenue Pub was certainly not busy, but it was enthralling.  The first order of business was procuring a tall, iced tea.

After ordering our meals, a man approached from the bar (not the one in the photo).  He was a local who had seen our cycles out front and was curious as to our travel plans.  Upon hearing about our intention to continue north in the morning--onto the unpaved portion of Highway 9--he grew concerned.  Confirming what we had learned before leaving home, he told us about all the recent storms and flooding.  Vowing to contact some friends about the road's current condition, he returned to his stool and extracted his phone.  

When our food arrived, it looked fantastic--and the taste lived up to the appearance!  As we were eating, our newest friend came back to deliver what ended up being the first of three reports.  All were fairly positive.  There were some bad spots, but the road was still passable.  In fact, one of his sources had just driven it, pulling a trailer.  Another, however, cautioned about heavy construction truck traffic on the last segment--after a major junction with another gravel highway to the west.  That one was being improved.

"That's good news about the road!" we responded.  "Thanks for checking--and thanks for the heads-up about all the trucks.  "We'll take it as slow as we need to--to get there in one piece," we assured him.

When it came time to pay our bills, Dan's credit card of choice was declined, and he had to use his back-up.  By that time, the place had finally gotten busier (on the other side of the room), so he stepped out onto the patio to call the issuing bank.

Twenty minutes later, he had his purchasing power restored--and at least a partial answer as to what had happened.  There'd been a fraud alert placed after we'd left that last gas station.

Our accommodations for the night were a couple miles outside of town and about a mile down a gravel road--according to the directions on the website.  As it turned out, the Fir River Ranch would have been difficult to miss.

Both sides of the driveway were very well marked.

This would be a little different than our first night on the road had been.  We were looking forward to the more personal touch that Bed & Breakfast establishments normally offer.  And the working ranch aspect of this one was intriguing as well.  My father and I stayed at a similar place in British Columbia once and really enjoyed it.

Driving up to the main lodge first (not pictured) we met Audrey, who showed us a few sleeping options.  One was in the basement of that building, but she had some out-of-town family members staying there as well.  Next, we followed her up the lane to a pleasant average-sized cabin.  I was about to say, "This'll work!" when she mentioned that there was one more option.

Then she opened the door to the Moose Meadows cabin (above).  It's enormous!  Though this picture doesn't show nearly all of it.  But its most attractive feature for us was the long log table--especially helpful for an avowed paper mapper, such as myself.  I hesitated to commandeer Audrey's prime real estate, but she insisted it was available--for the same price!  The deal was done.

Eight queen-size beds were positioned comfortably around the main level and two lofts.  A full-sized fridge and sink were also available for our use.  It didn't take long for us to bring in and spread out our gear appropriately.  But the thought occurred to me that it would be harder not to forget anything in the morning.  One advantage to small motel rooms is that everything remains in sight and only a few steps away.  Somehow, we'd manage.

Before settling in for the night, Dan rode back to the gas station to ask about his credit issue.  They told him he'd taken off without paying!  He informed them that if that was true, it was certainly not his intention--and offered to pay (again).  But they'd already "written it off."

When he returned, Dan walked down to the next building in this photo (the bathhouse) to take a shower.  But there was no hot water.  I summoned Audrey, and soon she came to assess the situation.  Between the two of them, a solution was enacted, and somewhat later, Dan got his shower.  It wasn't exactly hot, he reported, but it wasn't ice cold either.

To increase my chances of a more soothing experience, I delayed my visit until after I'd taken a short walk up a gated road into the forest (the opposite direction the camera is facing here).  I also took a moment to leave a voice mail message for Floyd, the proprietor of the lodge where we hoped to spend our farthest north night--about 48 hours hence.  I was still concerned about the condition of that road--even more so than we had been about the one we would ride the next morning.  Washouts had closed it to all but "local traffic," just a week or so before we departed.  I hoped he'd call back soon.

The last cabin on the left in this photo is the smaller one we'd been shown.  In the distance, you can see part of the white main lodge/house.  Shortly beyond that is the "county" road.  Once I'd returned from my stroll, I collected some things and tried out one of the showers--nice and HOT!  We turned in at a quarter till ten, having covered 345 miles that day.  Tomorrow, we'd take the trip's inaugural off-pavement segment--75 miles to the Manitoba border.

6 Wheels North: Setting the Pace

 

I backed out of my garage around 7:00 on the morning of July 9th.  As you can see, the weather was perfect!  The goal for Day One of this trip to Northern Manitoba, Canada, was a small town in North Dakota--about an hour from the international border.  If all went fairly well, we'd arrive about supper time.

Yes, I said WE!  This would not be my first time to share a motorcycle adventure with Dan.  In fact, if memory serves, it would be our sixth multi-day ride together--in a relationship which has spanned a quarter of a century.  And we haven't lived in the same town since the first couple of those years, so logistics have rarely been easy.

This time, Dan left his home in the Porland, Oregon, area four days prior to this photo.  After spending a couple of nights with me and my wife in Rapid City, South Dakota, he was reloaded and ready to strike out again!  Not that that sort of schedule is at all unusual for Dan.  He'd been touring on two wheels for even more decades than me, when he made the transition to three just last year.  It's possible that by stopping by his place on my 2025 return ride from the Pacific Coast, I may have influenced his decision.

In fact, our two cycles are the same make, model, and year--2023 Can-Am Ryker Rallies.  You've likely noticed that the front-end color schemes are different, though.  And even more options are available along those lines, should we ever want to change it up.

Our approach to luggage attachment and choice of accessories had also varied.  This trip would be a good opportunity to compare and contrast.

The first 150ish miles were not new to me, and I took no photos until the North Dakota line on Highway 85 (above)--not even at our first gas stop in Sturgis.  As my regular readers know, that's unusual.  I think I was embarrassed that I'd neglected to fill up before we left.

Most of the country we passed through that day was familiar to me--the highlights being the Missouri National Grasslands and a piece of Theodore Roosevelt National Park.  It's similar to the Badlands in South Dakota, but not quite as barren and bad.  I guess there won't be as many photos en route on this trip, as the tendency is to stay within sight of your partner by avoiding superfluous stops.  But I'll make up for it with more photos each evening.  And the evenings will be longer and more eventful, since planned daily mileages for this tour were significantly less than my norm.  I know!  It just might make for more of a vacation and less of a trying ordeal.  We'll see.  Hundreds of miles of unpaved roads were still an integral part of the itinerary.  That tends to keep things--interesting.

But, so far, so good.  We arrived at the historic Hygge Hotel in Powers Lake shortly before 5:00.  And that included losing an hour by entering the Central Time Zone!  I was turning over the proverbial "new leaf."  Still, 415 miles is nothing to scoff at.

Built in 1909 as the Lakeview Hotel, the Hygge now showcases a fantastic balance between modernization and restoration.  Its current owners purchased the property in 2018.  Sometimes a few minutes of pre-trip internet research can produce incredibly satisfying results!

The only apparent downside was that all the rooms are upstairs.  Now, upstairs is where I most like to be.  But getting there (with all my gear) at the end of a hot day's ride can be somewhat problematic.  But I knew that would be the case when I made the reservation--and figured I could handle it after only one day on the road.

And I did.  The setup of our corner room was perfect for our needs.  There were three beds--one at each end for the weary travelers--and a larger one in the middle for all our stuff!

One of the windows overlooked a long row of grain silos and beyond that, the lake.  It could make the perfect destination for an evening stroll, but first we needed to find some food.

Another window was directly above our trikes--not as convenient as an old-style model, where you can park right in front of your door, but it was nice to be able to easily check in on them.  And don't they look cool from up here?

But back to the most pressing concern--dinner.  We'd passed the only restaurant in town on our way in, only a couple of blocks away.  Once the cycles were unloaded, we headed back to the appropriately named Food Barn and settled down at a spacious table.  Okay, it only looked like a barn from the outside.  The inside was clean and modern--quite nice, actually.  I ordered a chicken sandwich and was thoroughly impressed with its appearance--and later, its taste!  A refreshing iced tea washed it down.  I was already eating better than I often do on these excursions of mine.  Calling it quits for the day before restaurants close is something I could probably get used to.

After supper, the shadows had lengthened, and temps were no longer in the 90s.  A walk to the lake revealed a well-kept park with a boat ramp and gravely beach.  The hotel and its proximity to the border had been the primary draw of this town of only a few hundred.  The tranquil waters were a bonus!

As we sat down on a bench, Dan spotted a pelican cruising for the opposite shore.  It was the perfect scene for reviewing the day's events--and discussing the route of the next one.  Dan had left all the planning for our shared portion of his journey to me.  It was true that I'd had extensive experience in northern Canada.  It was also true that my trips there had usually been incredibly grueling.  I hoped his trust in me was not misplaced.  I'd tried really hard this time to dial back the intensity level required to make it to each evening's lodgings--for both our sakes.  So far it had worked out well.  One day down.  Six to go.

Here's a better view of the hotel, as we walked back toward it from the lake.  Our room is directly above the front corner doors.  I've covered my Ryker's touch and mounting points with rain protection.  No, it wouldn't melt if I didn't do that, but I like to keep it dry when I can.

Before turning in, I touched base with my wife and my folks via the magic of cellular technology.  I knew I might not be able to do that every night as we made our way north, so I wanted to start out right.  Tomorrow, we'd cross the 49th Parallel into the land of maple syrup and poutine!