Short

Short Version:
A short run west, then we meet some friends in Rossland. One of them is short. A short ride through fields of flame, a short term big dog, and a short sleep before a long ride

Long Version:
We listened to a Texan talk about energy on the radio, crossed bright orange and yellow bridges, and passed through some really cool towns, including Yahk (Two-Scoop Steve had closed for the season) and Creston. Eventually we found ourselves in Trail, which was surprisingly large. Apparently there are two major employers there: the massive smoke-belching smelter, and the hospital where they care for people injured or diseased from smelter activity*.

Just up the road from Trail is Rossland, which has no smelter or hospital, but does have lots of awesome mountain-biking trails. We'd arranged to meet the folks we rode with near Invermere (Hi Mark and Lori!) to ride the IMBA Epic Seven Summits trail on Saturday, but we and they were there a day early, so we met in the bike shop by accident after failing to meet on purpose and set off to ride some of the near-town trails: KC to Back of KC to Milky Way to the Old Wagon Road.
Combining our navigation expertise with theirs meant that we temporarily misplaced ourselves, and ran out of time to complete the planned loop. Nene and I got to do an extra trail or two, including the star of the day: the Milky Way. Fast as fast can be, we blasted down this swooping, diving trail, bypassing the bigger jumps and hucking off the smaller. It ran us through a forest and through a field full of bracken in various stages of changing color. The yellow, orange, and red fronds made it look very much like the whole meadow was on fire. Then back into forest and down and down some more. It was great fun.

And then we had to pay for it, by riding back up. A long way. With lostness. Eventually, though, we found the remains of the old Mining School, and then we found the town and the Reaper in relatively quick succession, although not so quick that we didn't acquire an enormous canine for a while - he trotted alongside Nene quite contentedly for fifteen minutes or so, ignoring blandishments, protestations, and commands alike. Eventually, though, he found something more interesting to do and abandoned us to our own devices.

We'd grabbed a couple of potential free camping locales from the mechanic at the local bike shop, and decided to check out the parking lot of the Black Jack cross-country ski club, on the grounds that it was closest to town and had a disc golf course. It also had a bunch of people with dogs, and some really bright lighting, so we found an out-of-the-way byway and hunkered down for a short sleep before an early start on the Seven Summits mission.









* = We were told at one point that there are suburbs of Trail that have been so comprehensively poisoned over the years that you're not allowed to live there if you have children. Scary. Of course, it was Rudeword Dave that told us that, and he's at least as likely to make stuff like that up as I am, so feel free to consider it a likely semi-truth, or a blend of fact and fiction**

** = A faction