May 13

It’s been two months since they declared the pandemic. Two months ago we were filled with fear, with anxiety. What is a pandemic? Now we have a better idea. When Italy was losing so many lives and their health-care system was reeling. It made sense to lock everything down. Now people are tired of being stuck inside. People are on the move again. Many places in the world are opening things up again. The warnings are there, new outbreaks in Wuhan, in South Korea, and in Germany. Yet we can’t afford to stay locked down, so amid warnings of a second wave we open up.

I returned to my own bubble and looked forward to my day. I woke my darling teenage daughter up on my way out the door. I was going to ride my motorcycle to Vernon today. The Westside road was calling to me. I have always loved the Westside road from Kelowna to the north end of Okanagan Lake. It is a slower way to drive to Vernon but on two wheels there is no better route. I put my riding gear on and rode away from my home in West Kelowna.

Highway 97 was busier this morning, busier than it was only two weeks ago. I turned onto the highway and turned my wrist to feel the exhilaration of the acceleration. I always have to restrain myself. 1300 cc’s of power is easy to abuse. I let off the throttle and eased my way down the highway to the turnoff to Westside road. I immediately found myself behind a couple of cars and a gravel truck. There were a few spots to pass and it was easy to maneuver around the traffic in front of me. The joy of the ride increased as I rounded the first of many corners. I leaned the bike right over and thrilled with the feeling of balance and power. Accelerating through the apex of the curves I felt alive in a way that I seldom do.

The pure freedom felt as I cruised the road on the west side of the Okanagan was incredible. The spectacular views of the lake and mountains as I rounded the bends took my breath away. It was my first real ride on the open road this year. I had the urge to keep going, to keep riding, and become one with my machine. As I neared the north end of the lake I am greeted by a sign welcoming me to the OKIB. In bold letters on the sign it read Tourists and seasonal residents not welcome due to Covid19. The vast reserve on the north end of the lake made it very clear they wanted no extra people right now.

Riding through the reserve I noticed the signs of poverty. There were houses run down, still with construction paper on them. They had garbage piled outside and wrecked cars littered the yards. The difference from the Westbank First Nations was amazing. The reserve is in a prime location, and they have an incredible waterfront. Yet the road has potholes and the houses run down. Now with no tourism I wonder if their plight will worsen. I also wonder if it makes that much difference.

When I arrived at the hospital the parking lot was empty and the place felt eerie and quiet. There were two nurses at the door and they were asking the usual questions. Was I sick, had I been in contact with anyone who was sick and had I been out of the country in the last fourteen days? When I completed answering no to their questions they let me in. They weren’t checking temperatures this time. It was a quick visit and the manager there greeted me with an outstretched hand. I almost took his offering of the most universally accepted greeting in our history. I resisted shaking his hand and we both laughed about the strength of the natural instinct we had. I commented that I hoped the handshake wasn’t dead when this is all done with.

The hospital was ready for the worst-case scenario. There were extra beds in the hallways and the place was fully stocked. The hospital was running at 43 percent of capacity, it was pretty clear we had dodged the worst of the infection. It was more reason to open things up.

I rolled out of town at lunch and cruised back to Kelowna.

Riding a motorcycle gives me a certain peace inside. There is no sound but the wind and the machine beneath my legs. I become one with my bike and it is a great time to reflect and simply breathe. I have ridden motorbikes since I was a fourteen-year-old punk in Calgary. Now that I have a fourteen-year-old, I understand how my parents must have felt. My bombing around Calgary on my little 100 enduro, they did pretty well not losing their minds.

When I returned home I felt safe, the anxiety of a month ago is now gone. A new normal has begun. I hope that we can move into the next phase of recovery safely. I think we can continue to do well. The key is respecting each other and being conscious of hygiene.

I hope they come up with a proper vaccine soon, and we can return to some of what we used to be. I feel society has learned, now it is up to us to learn the lesson we are being taught. Before we can all come together again in body, we must come together in spirit. We must respect each other, we must love each other. We must look after each other.