Autumn Ride

The sun was shining and it was +20º Celsius as we rode west on the Trans-Canada Highway. Jenn and I had decided that today was a great day for motorcycling to the mountains. The leaves were just starting to turn, the traffic was light, and the temperature was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold.

It was my call where we'd end up. The world was my oyster, as they say, and although the possibilities were endless, we had narrowed it down to one of two end points for lunch: Kananaskis Village or Canmore. As we merged onto the highway, making our way westward, I still hadn't decided.

I wasn't leaving it up to fate as much as leaving it to my dusty macadam muse. I would need to make a decision before Highway 40 splintered south at Stoney Nakoda.

There was no hurry. It was just nice to be on two wheels eating up the foothills, with Jenn riding 'Backpack.' My shoulders started to relax, my breathing deep and full, my body one with the motorcycle, my helmet's face shield caked with bug guts.

If you don't ride motorcycles this might not mean much, but you feel every degree of temperature change, whether you're rising up a foothill or descending into a valley where the temperature drops five degrees. You turn by leaning. You are an active participant in each kilometre you travel. You are in the moment, not thinking about milestones or deadlines. And you can smell everything: the fresh autumn air, the forest as you ride past, cow poop, and at a certain density the insides of various bugs. Magical.

We were approaching decision time: turn south to K-Country or keep on the Trans-Canada and head to Canmore. Canmore is a lovely mountain town, but to get there you just have to zip down the highway. No adventure. No deep forests to ride right beside. Mountains, yes. Twisty roads, no.

We turned south to Kananaskis Village. Slicing through the Rocky Mountains on a motorcycle is the stuff of dreams – people travel from all over the world to be here, and a brave few come to ride. Highway 40 is the start of the Highwood Pass, a glorious bit of road and forest and vistas and wildlife. It is particularly wonderful if you like mountain sheep.

I don't think Jenn had ridden on a motorcycle through the mountains before and, judging by her smile, we'll be back doing it again next season. I could see her smile because her face shield was not covered by dead bugs, but only after I lifted mine. Bugs are minty.