After leaving the Cypress Hills (on a few curves), we picked headed over to HWY 18 in Saskatchewan. Unfortunately, the roads marked on our TripTiks from CAA were dirt, although they said they were paved. So it was slow going for a while. And, when we got to Eastend (where we were supposed to head south to meet up with the 18),
there was no road on our map. So we asked a very helpful local, who pointed us in the right direction—right into very, very black clouds.
We avoided the rain and hail most of the way, and were able to see a great lightning show. We seemed to ride right along the southern border of the storm, which was neat to see. The road to HWY 18 was dirt, but once on the highway, it was all paved. It wound through farm and ranchland, with lots of cows and horses. We also saw (and tried not to run over) hundreds of prairie dogs. I saw a fox bounding away, and we saw a bunch of antelope running through the fields or staring at us.
It was an amazing ride! The towns we passed through were small, but super friendly. They were often set in valleys among hills and in ravines.
It was very unexpected for Saskatchewan. We ended up camping near Wood Mountain, a tiny town with no store. The regional park was the stampede grounds, and the clouds cleared just enough to watch the sun go down through the stands.
-Lauren
My heart dropped when I saw the dirt road. After Chaco and the engine overheating business I wanted to avoid it at all costs. We had rode down some HWY for about an hour and a half when we saw our turn off, Junction 501 it read. I pulled to the side of the road.
“this can’t be it?”
“The map says 501”
I look again, yup still gravel. Earlier that week we had talked to a guy who was telling us about his adventures. At the time I was trying to squeeze all the info out of him I could.
“You just drive along and then all of a sudden the road turns to dirt and it just goes on and on for hundreds of kilometres ”
At the time I didn’t really believe him, but here we are, in front of a seemingly endless dirt road. And we wanted to do the back roads.
“Ready?”
“Ready!”
“As you know this bike isn’t built for off road” I began, trying tactfully to bring up safety,
I feel Lauren shift. It’s not going very, but I continue…
“There is a good chance that we can hit a really soft patch and spin out, flipping over the bike.”
I say something like this every time we travel on gravel, I know it’s a little much, but if its fresh in our minds, then if something does happen, we are somewhat prepared.
“We wont be going very fast and we both have good gear, but if we do fall just remember…
Don’t put your hands out, try and roll with your body, extended finders are broke fingers, lift your legs up and away from the bike and push away if possible.”
The gravel at first is in good condition, we make good time. Prairie dogs sit in the grass next to the road and stay absolutely still until the last possible second. Sometimes they run in front of the bike, sometimes the other way. But on the gravel we go slow enough that they can make it across in time.
Somewhere along the way fresh dirt has been dropped on the road, about six inches for maybe 80km. For a motorbike this sucks, your traction is gone and your front tire plows into the dirt floating, acting like a rudder. While the back tire sinks in (especially with our weight) and pushes us forward spewing dirt and dust behind us.
After about 150 kilometres of carefully balanced motorcycle riding we make it back to the paved road!
~Devin
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