There and Back Again - Part 04: My BC Epic1000 Yoyo Experience

Man, did I need that time off. I was feeling like a hundred bucks as I left Princeton and hit the trail. Initially it was pretty rough but I was able to find some flow after a while. The cooler temperatures were such a relief and I was able to maintain a pretty brisk pace.

I was a little concerned about how I might feel when I finally reached the half way point of the ride. Getting to Merritt wouldn’t be the finish for me, as it would be for someone riding the route in reverse. Getting there would mean I’d be turning around and riding the whole thing over again. Was I going to dread it, or look forward to it? Would it be a struggle to get moving again, or would I hop right back into the saddle and go? I shoved the thought onto the back burner and soldiered on.

Light was beginning to dim as I reached Coalmont. I was paying particular attention to my navigation as there was a detour coming up closer to Tulameen. The bridge over Otter Creek was out so Lennard authorized an alternate that we could take. Well, before I knew it, I was standing shin deep in Otter Creek. I had missed the reroute and decided to wade across. Otter creek was totally navigable on foot, so I just waded in, stood in the middle for a bit to take a picture, and then kept going. I’m glad to have missed the turnoff, as it made that part of the route more interesting. Maybe I’ll hit the detour on the way back.

Just outside of Tulameen I ran into a small heard of cattle. It’s funny how, when the light fades, your CPU will automatically assembles what it thinks the eyes are seeing. On more than one occasion, I would call out “Hey Bear!!!” only to find out that it was the ass of a big cow. Sometimes big old stumps will throw me for a loop! Ah, the joys of night riding. Ah, the joys of failing vision? I was making great time and soon, I started to see the lights and signs of the Coquihalla Highway. I knew that I was getting close to Merritt. Still another 40km or so to go.

Riding the Green Tunnel.

I pedaled on as night began to consume me. It was such a privilege having the kLite/IDC Revolution MTB wheelset with dynamo and a kLite and the on this route. I never had to worry about having enough light or enough batteries to make it through the night because, as long as I was moving, I had plenty of visibility. I also carried a 20,000mah cache battery with me. An Anker PowerCore 20,000. At night, I would only ever use the lights, but I did do some dynamo charging during the day, when I would usually have my phone plugged in to keep the entertainment system powered.

Finally I hit the pavement and knew I was very close. Only another 20km or so and I’d be at the 1/2 way point. I put on some tunes and rolled into Merritt to the tune of Metallica’s, Enter Sand Man. I was pumped to be here finally. I sat down on the sidewalk in front of Breath Bikes to eat some food that I brought, which was the most delicious gas station sandwich ever! I left a stack of My Back 40 stickers by the dog bowl. Not sure they ever got them as I never heard from the shop.

I’d like to mention my sister Kim, here. An avid dot watcher and one of my biggest fans, Kim seemed to always be texting at odd hours to check in on her little brother. She’d sometimes even reply back to messages sent at odd times. As I sit on the sidewalk, Kim and I connect via FaceTime to catch up on things. It was nice to see a smiling face at such an odd time of the morning, because no one was around, aside from a couple stray cats and a deer. She was so supportive while I was out there and knowing that people like my sister and perhaps even you, the reader, were following along, added a little peace of mind.

Thanks for being there, Sis.

I checked the town map on my phone then rolled down the street to a 24hr gas station and had some coffee and a pastry. It must have been 2 or 2:30 in the morning and as I sat on the sidewalk outside the gas station, a man walked up to me and handed me $5.

“Hey man, I hope things start looking up for you.”

I must have looked like a total dirt bag and upon further inspection, I did. My legs were coated in trail dust, blood and cow shit. My tattooed arms, sunburnt and scratched, told tales of the 1,100km battle that left me wrinkled and depleted. My disheveled, dirty mop poked out from under my hat in all directions. I thanked him sincerely and told him what I was up to. I said that I was raising money for the Masaka Cycling Club and that his $5 was helping me achieve that goal. He gave me a friendly wave as I pocketed his donation. Just when you think there’s no hope for humanity, a stranger shows care and compassion.

So, as I was saying earlier, I wasn’t sure how I would feel about reaching Merritt knowing that I was going to turn around and start heading back. I worried that I was going to be in this state of regret.

“What have I gotten myself into?! I have to ride that whole thing… again?!”

I didn’t feel any of that. What I felt was a sense of accomplishment. I set out to ride a yoyo of the BC Epic 1000 and I am halfway done. That’s huge! I was actually looking forward to the ride back, and the fact that there was a 50km climb out of Merritt didn’t really bother me that much.

I grabbed some more food, packed, watered, saddled up and got rolling. As I navigated back the way I came, I realized that it all looked quite different. I mean, I’ll be the first one to admit that I really don’t pay a lot of attention in general, which gets me into a shit ton of trouble sometimes, but the fact that I had to keep checking my GPS didn’t surprise me. What this also meant is that the route is going to be a lot different going the other way. The sun was starting to rise, so what I rode in the dark a few hours before, I was now riding in the light. People I saw camping on the way in, were sleeping on the way out. Sightlines were different. Descents became climbs, climbs, descents.. It was going to be a totally different experience and I was looking forward to it.

I had this goal / challenge to try to get back to Princeton before checkout so I could use the room to get cleaned up before heading east. I find that it’s beneficial to break the routes and races down into manageable chunks but I also think it’s fun to set goals, times and estimates as a way to pass the time. With practice, and I had a lot of it, I was usually able to estimate arrival times within an hour or so. As I progressed, I started to worry that I might arrive back in Princeton past checkout time. I had emptied the room, so that wasn’t a problem, I was just hoping to get cleaned up once I was finished with my 200km, night shift.

On the stretch into Tulameen, I see some activity up ahead. A few of Rustlers were working at getting some cattle back to where they belonged. One of them approached me and politely asked if I could stay back while they worked. My presence scared the cattle and made it more difficult to do their work. I obliged and waited. I didn’t know it was going to take the good part of an hour though, which I found frustrating as I had awesome flow going.

As I waited, I was devoured by mosquitos and horse flies. One of the Rustlers came over to thank me for my patience. He was a young dude with a fine moustache, dressed as you’d expect him to be with a wide, flat brimmed cowboy hat, a long sleeved, button down shirt, jeans and boots, of course. He was no rookie and skillfully rode his horse, sometimes bushwhacking to get around the herd. He said that they have over 135 cattle to get organized and that they were particularly ornery this morning. I told him they looked delicious. “They are!” he replied.

After about 45 minutes or so, things started to wrap up, and before long, I was back on the pedals. I crossed paths with a small crew that were waiting on the other side of the herd. One of the riders was Dave Waugh. We chatted briefly then parted ways. Knowing now that I was going to miss my checkout time, I called ahead and booked my room for another night or, more accurately day, as I planed to leave again in the evening to ride the night shift to Penticton.

On the return trip, I took the reroute around the Otter Creek crossing and stayed on Coalmont Road until I could hop back onto the route. It was okay being on the pavement, but in retrospect, I would have preferred to stay on the route, like I did on the way out. I would have rather crossed the creek then be on the pavement. One plus was that I was able to easily duck into a store that was right on the route to water up and grab a snack. The woman in the store offered ice, which I gleefully accepted as by now the temperatures were starting to climb rapidly.

I arrived back in Princeton about an hour and a half behind my estimate. Was I ever glad to have a place to land when I arrived. I hauled the wheel barrow up the stairs to my room on the second floor and immediately shut all the drapes, turned off most of the lights and cranked the AC. Before having a nice hot soak I needed to shower the trail off my lower body. The dry and dusty trail powder coated my legs in dirt and cow shit that was actually pretty hard to get off as It stuck tenaciously to my skin like cement. After getting myself cleaned up, it was time for food and sleep. I headed out in to the blast furnace to find sustenance, which came in the form of a couple burgers and a shake from DQ. Brunch of champions! I returned to my room to do some laundry and then hit the sack for a nap before the next night shift. I felt great after a couple of hours of sleep. There wasn’t much to do before leaving so I lingered a while in the room to rest up for the next leg.

I didn’t leave until around 7:30 pm. By this time, the temperature was a little more manageable. I called my friend Kirby to chat as he had texted me just as I was rolling out. I figured it would be nice to chat with him while I climbed those long switch backs out of Princeton, and it was. Kirby is one of my oldest and best friends and it was great to catch up with him. With some encouraging final words, we said our goodbyes and I put some tunes on.

I’m glad I left when I did. During the day, the climb out of Princeton is a sun scorched stretch of track with very little cover. As the sun began to set, my body became more energized in proportion to the drop in temperature.

The 110kms leading into Penticton were a bit of a blur, the one downside to riding at night. Everything looks the same, for the most part, so I tend to just get into the grind and do the work while dodging critters. I reflect back to the feeling I had when I first came into Princeton from the east a day and a half ago. I recall yelling out into the night as the rail grade slowly tortured me. I was worried about not finding a place to recover. The feeling of dehydration and depletion while I desperately pedaled toward the urban glow and the oasis that awaited my arrival. As I think back on that, I laugh at how my present mood is so different. The trail didn’t change. My mind changed. Mindset is everything…

The sun was just beginning to rise as I got above Summerland. Despite the sunrise, my body really needed a break. Just as I rolled into town, there was a bus stop with a very comfortable looking bench. I stumbled off the bike, laid down, and fell asleep for about 30 minutes. Upon waking, I was surprised about how comfortable I was on that bench. The body is an incredibly adaptable, self regulating, adventure machine. The fact that a bus stop bench could feel as comfortable as my king bed at home is a testament to that. The body gets what it needs, when it needs it and often I wonder if we have any free will over our body at all.

I rolled into Penticton at about 5:30am on June 30th. Today is my 50th birthday and to celebrate, I will have a breakfast of champions that will include 2 ice cream sandwiches, an Italian sub and a couple cups of coffee. In Part 1 of this write up, I wrote about how I was hoping to ride the Tour Divide for my 50th. Due to Covid-19, that didn’t happen but I am so grateful that I pursued another challenge by riding this yoyo. Sometimes, things don’t happen the we planned them to, but that’s okay, as long as you have something else to focus on.

In the last handful of years, planning to do hard things has become a part of my ethos. I feel as though if you don’t get uncomfortable from time to time, you lose sight of the things you have in your every day reality, like a roof over your head, a family that loves you and a comfortable bed.

Like Scott Kelly said in the first chapter of his book Endurance: A Year in Space, A Lifetime of Discovery,

If you’re not doing hard things, you’re not living your life.