Photo by Val Garou |
As much as I love creating my own adventure-cycling routes,
sometimes the work has already been done by someone else, and all one has to do
is read the internet and follow the virtual wheel tracks. I’d been thinking
about doing a trip in the fabulous Cypress Hills of southeastern Alberta and
southwestern Saskatchewan for years, when I came across this trip report on
bikepacking.com about a 100-mile route on a combination of trails and gravel.
Perfect.
The Cypress Hills area is a gem, a little bit of pseudo-mountain
in the middle of the great plains. Eons ago, this small area was somehow missed
by receding glaciers (dumb glaciers), leaving an island of surprisingly high
ground and all the flora and fauna that comes with it. Ask anyone who lives in
Saskatchewan or southern Alberta about the Cypress Hills and you’re bound to see
misty eyes and hear tall tales of family excursions to these underappreciated
Pyrenees of the Prairies.
The description on bikepacking.com says the trip is “easily
attainable by most people,” a mere four out of ten on their scale of
difficulty. The guys who wrote the piece did the trip in four days, and the
pics on the website make it seem awful leisurely—dudes taking photos of
caterpillars and stopping to fish for trout in streams. So, we decided to do
the trip in three days. It’s only 100 miles, right? How hard could that be?
We followed the route on bikekpacking.com, starting in
Elkwater, on the Alberta side, and heading east, camping at the rustic
Westblock campground just over the Saskatchewan border. Day two, we left our
tents up and rode without gear further east to what is, somewhat confusingly,
called the Centre Block, and then back to Westblock. Day three we headed back
to Elkwater via the southern Graburn Gap Road. So days one and three were half
days of riding (allowing for driving time), and day two was a long one. A
really long one.
The first 18 km from Elkwater are on trails, a combination
of double and single track, much of it in the enchanting Spruce Coulee. On a
full-suspension mountain bike, this trail would be easy-peasy, but on a fully
loaded fat bike, without shocks, it was tough at times—some steep inclines and
lots of rooty business. I admit, there was some walking.
Photo by Val Garou |
After the Spruce Coulee Campground, the terrain shifts from
forest to high meadow and rolling, grassy hills, offering stunning views. Cows are
everywhere, and it doesn’t take long to become resigned to the inevitability of
cow shit--on your tires, your frame, yourself. After the steep descent to Reesor
Lake, it’s regular gravel roads, punctuated by Texas Gates and cow pies, well
past the Saskatchewan border.
Photo by Val Garou |
Photo Penn C. Reveaux |
Cypress is lousy with plaques recounting the history of this
area, especially in the 1870s, when tensions between American wolf hunters,
Canadian whiskey traders, and local Assiniboine and Metis groups erupted in
what’s known as the Cypress Hills Massacre of 1873. (Over 20 Assiniboine and
one wolfer died). This tragic event is partly responsible for the creation of
the North-West Mounted Police, the force sent to quell the lawlessness of this
area. (Fort Walsh, a national historic site about 5 km off our route, tells the
full story.) For our purposes, the plaques offered a good excuse to stop, get some knowledge,
and catch our breath.
It was only 38 km to get to the Westblock Campground that
first day, but it felt way longer, as half of those are mountain-bike
kilometers.
Westblock is rustic—no water, no electricity—but in a good
way: lovely, quiet, well maintained, with level tent platforms, and, most
importantly, it was almost deserted the days we stayed there. We claimed a walk-in
site and had the whole area to ourselves. If you don’t count the cows, that is.
They roam freely in the campground, and it took me a while to get used the
sound of them chewing outside my tent at night.
The second day was ambitious. To get over to Centre Block,
we’d take the infamous Gap Road, a clay/dirt/gravel route over high prairie. We
knew it was closed to motorized traffic because of the fire ban, but bicycles
were permitted. (At least that’s what
one park official told us. Two others weren’t so sure.) The Gap Road is super
hard riding, with tons of up and down and some seriously sketchy road
conditions (we’re talking patches of fist-sized rocks), but the scenery up
there is spectacular. (The late-summer smoke compromised the vista, but it was
impressive none the less.) No
powerlines, no human sounds, just endless stunning views, the occasional
pronghorn or deer, and thousands of cows used to having the full run of the
road. The place feels old, barely
changed by humans.
On the Gap Road. Val Garou. |
Not a cow! |
(In case you’re wondering what we were riding, I can tell
you that I didn’t regret bringing my fatty on this trip. Sure, it was heavy on
the uphills, but the traction was well worth the weight trade off. Penn, on his
trusty Fargo, however, wished at times that he had a bit more bike for the job.
Val’s ECR, with its 3-inch tires, was the best-suited tool for this adventure.)
By the time we got to Centre Block, which is the most
touristy, some might even say cheesy, part of the Cypress Hills, we were pretty
shattered. A leisurely meal at the Café, some soft serve ice cream, and a
re-supply at the General Store barely recharged our batteries. It was going to
be a long slog back.
But then our luck started to change. We glimpsed a moose in
the trees, always a joyful occurrence. And then we stumbled on to the Trans
Canada Trail, which turned out to be a charming exit route, away from the
pseudo-outdoorsy weekenders of Centre Block, taking us through forest and field
back to the Gap Road. It was on this stretch of trail that we saw the first
cyclists of our trip, a couple on mountain bikes, out for a day ride from
Centre Block. Our spirits began to perk up.
The return journey over the Gap Road became a race against
the sun and her allies the wind and smoke. We were beyond bagged, but pushed
on, making it back to Westblock and its envoy of cows just before dark. That
day was no 4 out of 10. Not for us, anyway. As we sat around our fireless
campfire (thanks, fire ban), our bodies hummed with fatigue. Even cans of
Saskatchewan’s unofficial nectar (Pilsner) couldn’t revive us.
Photo by Val Garou |
Day three we headed west, into the wind, and ended up on
another high, desolate gap road, this one called Graburn, named after North-West
Mounted Police Constable Marmaduke Graburn, who, in 1879, was the first Mountie
to be murdered. (We saw a small memorial to Graburn on day one just before the
Saskatchewan border.) This gap road was another stunner—wide open, barren,
desolate but for the occasional stunted tree yet strangely beautiful. We
encountered a few trucks up there, and one fellow cyclist (who had also read about this route on bikepacking.com), but the most
remarkable feature of that area has to be its utter remoteness.
Heading back into Elkwater, we took a pass on the Horseshoe
Canyon Trail, opting instead for the Ferguson Hill Road; a freshly paved
downhill bomb was irresistible.
On the Graburn Gap Road. |
I don’t know that I’d recommend doing this trip in late
August, like we did. The smoke was brutal and the fire ban perverse, given how
cold the evenings got. (And it seems that August is now going to be fire
season.) We tried to warm ourselves with scotch, but that only worked to a
point. The perfect time to come here is June. Everything is green, the days are
long and warm (but not too hot), and the tourists and fires haven’t arrived
yet.
Cypress Hills is a terrific bikepacking route, thoughtfully
put together. It should be on every western gravel rider’s sprocket list. But
just know that if you do it in three days, the middle one is probably going to
be hard, and you’ll want to do your trout fishing, caterpillar watching, and
general gamboling on the first and third days.
Great photos, Jasper! Sounds like a gruelling but rewarding ride. On my sprocket list--ride in Italy with Jasper Gates.
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