Tolkien wasn’t wrong. Every journey begins with feeling like the hobbit – you left home without a handkerchief and your walking stick. Even when it’s quite ridiculous and you have spent months preparing. Or maybe it isn’t. We rode out of Banff, late, into rain and wind. It was beautiful and daunting.

The riding was lovely and steep and about thirty miles in both of us were tired. So we guerrilla camped at a picnic area and before dark we got a break in the rain eat and set up camp. We awoke early. The break in rain held and I did my morning prayers with looking at this scene.

The weather held long enough for us to pack our bikes and get riding when the rain and wind whipped up again. We headed out expecting to ride through thunderstorms. But ten miles in providence appeared in the form of a manager of a small luxury lodge where we were buying coffee and candy bars for the ride. He is a bike packer himself and he let us know that the conditions were going to be rougher than we were expecting, and that he keeps a simple yurt for bike packers and back packers in a jam. We took the offer, a nap and when the weather cleared in the evening were treated to this meadow view.

A short walk up the hill led us to this one.

The next day we headed out brightly and early for dryer weather and more stunning views and our first crossing of the continental divide.