We drink coffee on the porch and look at the eagles hunting the river below. On one side of the river Canadian Pacific runs its trains, on the opposite side, Canadian National. At night they come screaming through this tight little valley, wheels gnashing, horns blaring. You can see them coming for some distance- huge golden eyes glimmering in the blackness. And then the town seems to shake while they pass by, moaning and bashing until they fade into the distance.
Outside the Cafe we notice this modified bike. It carries a large axe rather nicely. Inside we meet the owner, who tells us the axe is to protect himself from bears on his long rides into town. I tell him I'd probably just pedal fast in the other direction!
Wifi is on, so it's another working breakfast! Emails, press releases, and the Blog. This stuff never goes away.
Soon enough we're on the 97 Highway, headed north. We give Ramblin' Dan a spin. Dylan. JB Lenoir, John Lee Hooker, Stormriders, James McMurtry, Memphis Jug Band...
In just a few hours the landscape changes considerably. It is a little colder, fall in the air, flashes of colour in the trees.
As we drive the shadow of the mighty speaker horn keeps pace with us, pointing the way of adventures to come.