April 25, 2022 A Ride To Kamloops

It was like a dance, a renewed romance. I leaned my machine into the corner and spun it back up again. The gleaming waters of Okanagan lake reflected the mountains above, it was the perfect backdrop for the undulating highway known simply as Westside Road.

Everything was right in the world.

I was back on my trusty Honda ST1300 after a winter off of it. I could breathe clearly for those precious moments in time. It was a great reminder of why I am alive. 

There are times in life when I felt the most alive. One of those times is riding my motorcycle down a twisty road. I needed the connection with my machine more than I knew. 

I left the city behind and rolled on the throttle around the first set of winding corners on Westside Road. I could fully breathe again and soaked in the amazing sites and smells while I flew by the glassy water. The road climbed and turned and I was one with my machine. I felt part of the world around me.

It was like the last six months away from my motorbike were only a flash in time. 

Before long I wound my way into the Okanagan Indian Band territory. The devastation from last summer’s fires was still apparent. I could even smell the burnt timber eight months after those massive blazes. The saddest sight of all was the fenced remnants of The Little Kingdom Store and Gas Bar. Little kingdom used to be a favourite stop for me. When I reached it I knew I was near the end of the twistiest parts of the road and it was time to wind down and ease up. I usually made a point of stopping there, either on the way home or sometimes on the way out. I could grab fuel and they had the best homemade salmon jerky. 

It doesn’t look like they will ever rebuild – everything is gone.

The next stretch of road to Kamloops was a series of longer radius sweeping corners. There is a simple joy in cruising down the road on two wheels. It is a feeling of freedom matched by a few things in life. 

When I left the open valley of Westwold I entered another fire zone. This time it was the remnants of Monte Lake that met my sights. I could see on the left-hand side of highway 97b a  series of homes that miraculously were spared by the fire. 

Or maybe it wasn’t so miraculous. These were some of the homes where the homeowner defied the evacuation order and stayed to fight the raging inferno that roared over the mountain towards all they owned. A little way down the road was a home that was much further from the forest. Or I should say the foundation and what was left of the home. Painted in bold letters on the side of a shipping container were the words “Government sponsored arson.” 

I shook my head at the thought of it. Within kilometres of each other were two different farms. One in the middle of a stand of burnt trees stood whole and unscathed. The next was in the middle of a field and it was burnt to the ground. I wonder which one stayed to fight the blaze and which obeyed the order to leave? Pretty sure I knew the answer…

It’s pretty amazing how much time one has to think while riding down a highway on a motorcycle. 

I do my best thinking on my bike.

I couldn’t help but think about those poor souls who lost everything to last year’s brutal forest fires.

The last stretch of road is back on the Trans-Canada Highway. Riding on a four-lane freeway may seem like a better drive, but on a motorcycle, I much prefer the backroads. 

Sometimes we just have to take the road more traveled.

I got my work done and turned my bike for home. I thought about making a full circuit and going home via the Coquihalla connecter but it was still early in the year and I didn’t feel like testing the temperature and the dark skies at 4000 feet in elevation. 

I went back the way I came and got a bit of rain. The roads were wet so I was grateful to be at the lower elevations. Wet roads made for more cautious driving. Regardless of the watered-down roadway I still loved every second on my bike.

It was a dance and I let the road lead.

Refreshed and alive I returned home. Reinvigorated, I grinned wide as I pulled back into my driveway. 

Everything was right again in the world. Even if it was for a few fleeting hours on a windy road.

Little Kingdom Before the fire on a busy summer day and little Kingdom right after the fire