Day 9 | Day 10 | Day 11 | Day 12 | Day 13 | Day 14 | Day 15 | Day 16
Day 10 - Penticton
On the tenth day we rested
The day is bright, sunny and clear. It's perfect weather to explore Penticton which is nestled between Okanagan and Skaha Lakes. The city has a beautiful beach and pretty houses with lovely flower gardens. We elect to leave our bikes at the hostel and stretch our legs with a walk.
A pretty Penticton garden
As we wander down the main street, I see a sign above one of the local establishments. Motioning towards the sign, I say to M.J., "It's really too bad that we have to leave town before Thursday." She looks at me quizzically. "I'm sure I could have come up with one..." I continue, making reference to the evening at Chute Lake when I found that my only clean item of clothing was a bandana.
She is still puzzled. She hasn't seen the sign. I read it out loud "Homemade string bikini contest Thursday night." We both burst into great bouts of laughter. Doubled over, giggling, we can't contain ourselves. Other people on the street are giving us curious sideways glances. We revert to our "Trailness" and giggle all the way down the street.
M.J. purchases another layer of clothing which she hopes will ward off the cold she feels at night. We stock-up on supplies and, remembering our night in the group camping, M.J. buys us each a pair of ear plugs.
We return to the hostel pleased with our day in the city but exhausted from our wandering. M.J. comments that she feels less tired after a day of cycling.
I suggest to M.J. that before we return to the trail we give our bikes a little TLC. I will clean, then oil the chains. M.J. offers to help, so I hand her the multitool and suggest that she check the bikes for anything that has rattled loose since we left Castlegar.
We both busy ourselves with our maintenance tasks. After a few minutes, M.J. asks me if she is supposed to tighten the little screws at the back of the derailleur. Oops! I should have given her more instructions than—tighten everything! She's inadvertently tightened an adjustment screw for the front derailleur alignment... Thankfully she has also had the intuition that perhaps she should ask about those tiny little screws. She returns the screw to its original position and everything is fine.
While we are working, I notice that a couple of our wheels are now somewhat out of true. It is early evening—too late for a consultation with a bike shop. Trueing wheels is rather an art; I'm not prepared to attempt it. We will have to make do for the 100 kilometers until the next bike shop in Princeton. A little worried, I silently scold myself for not having the forethought to examine our bikes earlier.
Drying out in Penticton
That evening, when I should be sleeping soundly in my cozy bunk, I'm wakeful knowing that our bikes are not in perfect order for our departure early in the morning. I spend a restless night dreaming about our steel steeds. Guilt takes me on several wild trail misadventures conjured up by my subconscious.
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