Viking Ribstones

I’m a big believer in having a destination on a gravel ride. It doesn’t have to be anything special--a country store, an onion-domed Orthodox church, a shaded picnic spot, a viewpoint. A plaque even. I’ll gladly ride to a random plaque and back.

On a recent foray, setting out from Kinsella, in east central Alberta, we settled on the Viking Ribstones, an historical site I’d read about online. Ribstones are big old rocks with shapes or lines (specifically lines that look kind of like an animal’s rib cage) carved into them a long time ago by Indigenous people. It’s thought that the carvings were a kind of offering to the spirit of Old Man Buffalo. Apparently nine different ribstone sites have been found in Alberta, but the one near Viking is one of the better preserved specimens.  

Gooseberry Rambles

I recently spent a couple of days exploring some of the off-pavement options in the Neutral Hills in east-central Alberta, near Consort, and I can report that even though I only rode a fraction of it, this area has lots of potential for adventurous gravel cyclists.

We camped at Gooseberry Lake Provincial Park, about 15 km north of Consort, which turns out to be a great starting point for cycling. To the south and east, it’s your typical prairie gravel roads, all fine and well, but to the north and west things get interesting. The hilly terrain reminds me of another Alberta terminal moraine, the Porcupine Hills area near Claresholm--similar topography and similar “roads,” if that’s even the right word. The hills are bestrewn with totally bikeable tracks and trails, most of them private but some of them public.

The Greatest: The Life and Times of Beryl Burton

 

Who is the greatest cyclist ever? Fausto Coppi? Eddy Merckx? Maybe Jacques Anquetil or Bernard Hinault? Respected British cycling journalist and biographer William Fotheringham makes the bold case that that mantle actually belongs to a lesser known name: British phenom Beryl Burton. In terms of span of career, number of titles captured, and absolute domination of her field, no one comes close to “BB,” explains Fotheringham.

These days Burton’s name isn’t widely known outside of Britain, but the career numbers she accumulated are astonishing--for any sport. From the mid 1950s to the 1980s, she won 90 domestic championships and 7 world titles; for 25 consecutive years she was the Best All Round female time trialist in Britain; her 100-mile record lasted 28 years and her 12-hour record an incredible 50 years. At her peak, she regularly beat some of the best British male cyclists in time trials--including eight-time Tour de France stage winner Barry Hoban. Her 1967 12-hour time-trial distance (277 miles) stood for two years before it was bested by a male cyclist.

The Cost of a Gravel "Experience"

 

Credit: Cycling Tips

A few years ago, Val, Penn, and I did the Gran Fondo Whistler. It was, I thought at the time, an expensive ticket: $225 to participate in a one-day ride. But despite being a cheap bastard by nature, I was able to justify the cost on the grounds that for my cash I was getting a unique “experience:” in addition to the usual supports (aid and snack stations) a section of the highway we rode was closed to car traffic, enabling us to ride on a road that otherwise I probably would have avoided. And when we got to Whistler, there was a party waiting for us: barbeque, live music, and an atmosphere of general festivity. We had a good time. It was worth it, and I’d recommend the “experience.”

That ride is all pavement, of course, but I mention it here because, in the world of gravel riding, big ticket events promising a special “experience”--in some cases charging the same kind of fees as a premier event like the Whistler Gran Fondo--are beginning to pop up more and more in western Canada. But when I look closely at what some of these gravel events are offering in exchange for their fees, I find myself asking some questions about what exactly constitutes a rewarding gravel-event “experience.”

Over the Hills

 

David Lamb’s Over the Hills: A Midlife Escape Across America by Bicycle (1996) is one of the better examples of the mid-life-crisis-bike-trip travel book that started to pop up in the 1980s and 90s and has become a subgenre all its own. 

Lamb was the same age I am now (54) when he found himself not in a crisis exactly, but feeling “tiresomely reliable and responsible,” “normal to a fault,” he says. He hadn’t ridden a bike more than a few miles in decades, but he decided that a “foolhardy” cycling adventure from Virginia to California might just be the ticket to reconnecting with some of his roguish youth and getting out of a rut. 

Short Sleeves (and Other Dreams for 2021)

 

Late January is usually the time of year when I start scheming cycling plans for once the snow’s gone. As the days get incrementally longer, I find I can allow myself to begin dreaming of green fields and short sleeves--even if they’re still many months away.

This year, of course, any planning must take into account the COVID restrictions that are likely to be with us into the summer if not longer. In fact, with the prospect of variants in our midst, there’s every chance that the coming months will see lockdowns and movement restrictions unlike anything we’ve seen so far, at least here in Alberta. 

But I can still scheme, even if I have to accept that I may end up doing most of these rides by myself, if at all. Strange as it sounds, I get a lot of pleasure simply from the plan-making itself--regardless of whether any of them come to fruition. So here’s my list of wanna-do’s for 2021:

In the Trail of the Three Musketeers

 

I confess I’ve never read Alexandre Dumas’s beloved series of Musketeer books. I’ve known of them, of course, from when I was kid, having watched--numerous times--the 1973 movie version of The Three Musketeers featuring Michael York (D’Artagnan), Raquel Welch (Constance), and Charlton Heston (Cardinal Richelieu). The movie--as I remember it--was fun, a bit racy, full of adventure, romance, floppy hats, silly facial hair, and, of course, sword fights. Lots of sword fights. So I’m familiar with the general idea of the franchise, though I’m certainly no Musketeers nerd. At least I wasn’t until a few months ago. 

The Golden Larches

 

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Urban Gravel

Is it possible to have a genuine gravel experience while riding in the city? This may seem a ridiculous question, but it’s one I set out to answer anyway this summer as a COVID-induced something-to-do project. Before you scoff at my premise, let me establish my terms.

By “genuine gravel experience” I mean that of 1) riding on roads that are primarily not pavement 2) where vehicle and pedestrian traffic is sporadic, if not scarce 3) where one experiences the peace and quiet of nature, away from heavy vehicle traffic 4) and where one occasionally feels the sense of adventure that comes with venturing into territory where bicycles rarely venture.

To be clear, I’m not talking about riding on gravel multi-use paths in the river valley or elsewhere. While many of those gravel paths do offer an experience in nature and, in some cases, a kind of adventure, they’re not roads and they tend to feature a steady stream of pedestrians (something you generally see only occasionally while gravel riding). So for the purposes of my experiment, they don’t count. No paths, no trails allowed.