Another trip though the Crowsnest Pass

This past Wednesday Trevor Flexhaug and I met up for a motorcycle ride, the first time we have been out since we bought our bikes in January. The main reason for that purchase, if we were being honest with ourselves, is because of our motorcycle camping trip planned this year. Last year's trip was on a pair of machines that were a little too small and about 30 years too old. It was fun but the bikes were so slow and so uncomfortable that we actually stopped at a dealership in Cranbrook to see what we could get if we traded them in (not much).

We met up in the town of Lundbreck because it's kind of central to both of us. After checking out the local water falls, we headed West.



It was a beautiful day and the stretch of road through the boulder field is one of my favorite rides.





We stopped in Blairmore and took some pictures and had lunch (I highly recommend the Kananaskis burger at Popiel's). We also took a short jaunt up to the Frank Slide interpretive center, which afforded a great view of the valley. I wasn't going to mention Frank Slide, because it might be featured in a blog entry I am planning titled, "CHEMT's Seven Wonders of the World". However, for those readers who haven't heard of Frank Slide, I thoughtfully plagiarized the following information:

Not far from Calgary, Alberta, and just east of the Crowsnest Pass, lies the small, bustling town of Frank, Alberta, nestled on the floor of a deeply-glaciated valley. Looming menacingly nearby is Turtle Mountain, and a scene of destruction that has never been equalled.

In the early morning hours of April 29, 1903, Turtle Mountain collapsed, resulting in the greatest landslide in North American history. In 100 seconds: at least 76 people were buried alive under tons of massive limestone boulders; three-quarters of the homes in Frank were crushed like balsa wood; over a mile of the Canadian Pacific Railroad was completely destroyed; and a river became a lake.





According to reports, the native people in the area avoided Turtle mountain and referred to it as "the mountain that walked". That legend came true when 82 million tons of limestone came crashing down. There is still an estimated 15 million tons of rock that geologists predict will collapse in a second "catastrophic failure". The provincial government has built an early warning system that measures every move the mountain makes with GPS, sensors in the cracks, seismic readings, and lasers which measure the location of strategically placed prisms. The mountain is only walking about 1mm per year right now, and hopefully the town of Hillcrest will have enough notice before the second land slide occurs. Hillcrest is also known for being the site of Canada's worst mine disaster where 189 coal miners were killed in an underground explosion on June 19, 1914... but that's another story.



This year's ride took place on modern, more capable mounts; however, that was the only real difference. It was still two friends on bikes. At the end of the day we again had to go back to the possibly-cursed Bellevue gas station for an unexpected complication. And, as much fun as the ride was, it was still even better to get home.




- C