Day 3 - Cascade Cove to Grandforks 20 km

Bridging the gap

Our third day was planned as a short riding day with time in Grandforks to shop for supplies. Again the weather was hot and getting hotter. The trail to Grandforks had been resurfaced after pipeline construction in 2000. It is more rolling than the original railbed but the surface is now compacted fine gravel. It is a pretty ride along the Kettle River through golden fields.

Golden fields along the Kettle River

We decided not to stop at Cascade Falls but rather to continue before the day got too hot. M.J. was surprised to find me tackling the trestles first. She was even more surprised when I stopped halfway across to take a picture. After yesterday's high bridge, I was now a "pro". This little trestle was just a pretty spot for a photo.

View from the trestle near Cascade Falls

There was little shade except for the odd tree. Now and again the shadow of a rockface carved out of a hill would also afford some relief from the heat.

This is a farming valley and there are lots of cattle gates. These are located on either side of the roads that the trail crosses. Small gates have been added to the sides of the cattle gates to make it easier for cyclists. We found maneuvering around these with our Bob trailers difficult. You had to get your trailer lined up at such an angle that it didn't catch on the fence post. The gates are designed to swing shut after you pass through them but often the latch would stick and not lock properly. I did a lot of hopping off my bike to close them while M.J. held my bike for me.

Just outside Grandforks is the last unplanked bridge of the Columbia and Western section of the trail. "Super Gamma" confidently started across first. Halfway across my bike came to a sudden stop. I looked around perplexed. M.J. not far behind me looked at me quizzically. I looked back and discovered that my Bob trailer wheel had fallen into a wide opening between two ties. There was a steel girder at that point and the two ties were further apart than usual. My trailer was now firmly resting on the bottom of its frame.

I tried to pull hard on my bike but it wouldn't budge. I tried to reach back and pull on the trailer but if I let go of my front handlebars to reach back, my front wheel would turn and start to fall between the ties. I had a problem.

I suggested to M.J. that if she could get up enough momentum that perhaps she could roll over the problem area. M.J. said she would give it a try. I climbed over my bike to the other side to give her more room to maneuver. "Super Gamma" was now closer to the edge of the bridge than she liked. M.J. moved over the ties as quickly as she could. Soon she came to sudden stop opposite me. She was now also firmly stuck. We now had a bigger problem.

We looked at each other and laughed. "Do you think there is trailside assistance?..." The only way out of our predicament was to lay one bike down, so that we could help each other. I climbed back over my bike and cautiously laid it down. I lifted M.J.'s trailer and she took her bike across the bridge then returned to help me.

"Do you think there is trailside assistance?..."

Just after our exploits on the bridge, we were rewarded with a young doe appearing in a field to our right. It crossed in front of us and easily jumped the fence into a green pasture. Although we were quite close, the doe seemed unconcerned with our presence and munched hungrily.

Arriving at the campsite in Grandforks, M.J. proposed a contest: Who could divest themselves of the most stuff, no... divest themselves of the most weight to send home. I agreed. We would make ourselves more presentable to the public and then the contest was on. The campground washrooms were locked. You would receive a key after you were registered for the night. The attendant would return at 6:30 p.m. Well if we were going to be walking around town, we definitely needed a cleanup before then.

M.J. went off to the public washrooms located in the park adjacent to the campground. When she returned she was laughing to herself. She said she was busily trying to remove the day's grime when a little girl and her mother entered the washrooms. The little girl watched her wide eyed. When M.J. was done and was about to leave, the little girl pointed to the back of her legs and said, "You forgot some!" The little girl's mother looked mortified, M.J. laughed. She had indeed missed scrubbing the backs of her legs!

M.J. was eager to get her stuff sorted. I was eager to take a nap. While she wrestled with major decisions on what to toss, I wrestled with my Thermarest sleeping pad on top of the picnic table. A little while later I would wrestle with what to toss and energetic M.J. would succumb to the appeal of wrestling with my Thermarest on the picnic table. We decided that the contest was a draw, each of our bundles felt about equal. We had both managed to reduce our load by ten pounds, the heaviest discarded items being our front handlebar bags.

Our original plan was to go to the Pub in the former Grandforks Station for a meal but the day was so hot, we decided that we didn't want to cycle anymore in the heat. While we were reorganizing, the athletic gentleman that we had met the previous day on the trail came over and greeted us. He was staying at the campground.

Looking flushed and hot, he was just returning from a ride up towards Eholt where he had had a flat tire. As that was the direction we were heading the following day, we inquired about the trail. He described it as being pictureque but a tough ride. While we were chatting, he graciously agreed to keep our bikes and equipment over by his trailer while we ran our errands.

By mid-afternoon, we found ourselves having a meal in a Chinese restaurant. It was a little surreal. One day you are in the backcountry eating out of the same pot. Another day you are eating fine food on a linen table cloth. We enjoyed the luxury.

On our return to the campground, it was still too early to get a key to the washrooms from the attendant. M.J. offered to take my laundry to the river and give it a swish along with hers. I was a bit horrified that she would offer to wash my sweaty cycling clothes. She waved away my protests, gathered our bundles of clothes and off she went to the river. I busied myself cleaning and oiling our bike chains. Our "Trailness" was growing.

That evening we enjoyed being serenaded to sleep by an impromptu guitar concert from some of our campground neighbours.

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