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July 13 Wednesday Bicycle touring from Drumheller Alberta - Bassano Alberta As we leave Drumheller, Sharon asks if we want to get anything at the food store because we basically have zero supplies. Nope, we reply, we'll just have to pack it. "Look at that big hill we have to climb." Passing our old campsite we hear the irksome beep, beep, beep noise that emanates from a heavy machine in backup mode. Yes, they are still working on that transformer. The hill is a little over a kilometre long. There is a good view of the surrounding valley from the plateau. We pass through Rose Dale, but don't stop at the Atlas mine suspension bridge. The road is rolling. Not too difficult. The fields are paved with golden rapeseed, glowing in the sun as far as the eye can see, rolling right to the western horizon. We stop at Dalum. There is a church, a gas station and garage, and a couple of houses. The garage has a pop machine that is owner-operated. We give him our money and he opens the machine and takes out our cold selections. We buy some chocolate bars and sit in the sun on the church steps. At 12:01 the owner of the garage locks the door and leaves. Must be lunch hour. Sharon and Susan have to go to the washroom. I had gone over to the graveyard earlier to check out watering stations. Susan wonders if the church is open, as it probably has a washroom. I don't think the church will be open though. Susan tries the door. Lo and behold it swings open. Knock and it shall be opened unto you? We go in and look around. There is a beautiful stained glass window upstairs. There are ropes for ringing the steeple bell and as much as I wanted to try them out I restrained myself. I go back out on the steps to wait in the afternoon sun. Sharon and Susan emerge to report that not only did they find washrooms but there is also a piano downstairs. Sharon played Amazing Grace and other rollicking religious tunes. They also found a fully equipped kitchen. Sharon says it is at least as nice as the church we stayed at on our cycle trip across the States in the little town of Eads. But there are no showers. Sharon and Susan want to stay here, but since it is only one o'clock and we have no food, we opt to keep going. Forty kilometres farther we arrive in Hussar with a mighty Hussar hunger. The last time I rode into Hussar on my first ever cycle trip, a farmer asked me if I was lost. There is a whole row of grain elevators, but little else. We roll to a stop in front of the door for Tom's General Store, the one and only grocery store in the entire town. I push on the door and rudely bump my nose. It is locked. Susan looks at the hours posted on the door then casually asks, "By any chance, is this Wednesday?" "Yes, it is," I reply. "Well, it closes at 1 PM on Wednesday." Terrific. We have no food. We trundle into the post office to ask if there is any place in town we can get some food on a Wednesday. The lady behind the counter smiles warmly and says, "Nope." She phones the owner of the General Store -- Tom, I presume -- but there is no answer. She replaces the receiver and sweetly says, "I usually have some cheese and crackers here ... but I don't have any today. Sorry." "I'm starving," Susan whines. "I've cycled over 80 kilometres and all I've eaten today is a bit of cereal and a chocolate bar." "The gas station sells pop," the woman tells us. Then, giggling slightly, she says, "I shouldn't tell you this, but I just ate a chocolate bar." She breaks into uproarious laughter at her comment. These small town folks certainly have some weird duck humour. Obviously, she doesn't realize how serious food is to cyclists. We escort Susan outside before she tampers with a mail clerk, which, no doubt, must be a federal offense. We buy pop at the gas station then stop at the fair grounds and make our emergency rations of noodle soup. Still hungry, we make some oatmeal porridge too that I discover lurking in the bottom of a pannier. Bassano is 44 kilometres away. We arrive at the junction to the Trans Canada Highway. It is a quick eighteen kilometres from there. We descend upon the dairy bar for ice cream. After eating our fill we head for the municipal campground. To our surprise, camping here is cheap compared to Drumheller. And it has clean washrooms and luxurious hot showers thrown in for no extra charge. We hit the grocery store and stock up on spaghetti and mushroom sauce. Lots of trains rumble buy. Shades of Cassoday, Kansas on the Bike Centennial route that Sharon and I rode across the States. There, it seemed as though at least one train went by every half and hour -- more during the night. |
