Ed "Trailhead" Kruger stops his bike, pumps the air with his fists and exclaims: Mon-aahhh-sheeee!"
I pull up behind him, grinning like an idiot. I have no idea why he's bellowing, but I'm pathetically grateful for the chance to stop to catch my breath.
I'd wanted to go on this cycle ever since I'd heard about it: historic rail trestles, stops at wineries and a 2% downhill grade. But that morning, our first, caught me off guard. One minute, we were milling around the parking lot, chatting and being assigned our bikes and the next--bam! --the group of 12 was off.
And I was last.
And the entrance to the trail was down a narrow, rocky chute. How do you ride down rocks? I hadn't encountered this on Ottawa's paved paths.
And the trail itself was soft sand, studded with stones.
My tire wobbled, my bike bounced and I soon discovered I was uncomfortably tethered to my bike seat. In my haste to be off, I'd left the pocket on the back of my jacket open. The belt that was supposed to be tucked inside was caught under my seat. I unhitched myself, feeling foolish, but was quickly distracted by my water bottle jiggling out of the cords on my pannier and flying out behind my bike.
Ten minutes later: Boom!
My first thought was that hunters were nearby. But it was my rear tire, now flat, flaccid and flapping.
What indignity next?
"You don't know how to change a bike tire?" asked Mario Toffolo, a cycling enthusiast from St. Catharines, not unkindly.
I'm embarrassed to say I could do nothing but stand by idly--I admit it, actually applying lip balm--while Toffolo and his buddies, veterans of many bike trips, changed the tube and fashioned a patch for my punctured tire
Which is why I was so relieved to be caught up to the group, I didn't care what Kruger was bellowing. And to find out that the flat, at least, was not my fault, but due to a tire that had been punctured and patched the day before and somehow missed getting changed overnight. (Kruger was not pleased about that slip-up on the part of his support crew, the only one I detected over four days.)
I got to trade the offending Bike No. 11 for an identical silvery green Giant Sedona, Bike No. 14.
I came to love Bike No. 14 during the next 135 kilometres. I wanted to take it home with me -- it and the stunning, adobe-style wineries set into desert hills, the views down over the sparkling lakes and the paths that took us under towering Douglas firs, through cool tunnels and gliding along the edge of a beach.
After our party regrouped that first morning, we came to the most famous part of our route: the Myra Canyon, which some regard as the jewel of the Trans Canada Trail. It's just southeast of Kelowna, the area that made news in 2003 when a dozen of its historic rail trestles were destroyed by a fire that roared through the valley. Now the trestles have been rebuilt. No trains use them any longer -- they're purely for pleasure and recreation, like the Rideau Canal.
It's a spectacular ride. The canyon is almost horseshoe-shaped and the path once travelled by a train forms a big curve partway up several small mountains. In the space of about 10 kilometres, you travel over 18 trestles and through two tunnels.
Through his Monashee Adventure Tours, Kruger offers just about every kind of two-wheeled trip you can imagine in the Okanagan Valley, from self-guided ones where he rents you the bikes and you stay in rustic accommodations, to deluxe guided tours with high-end lodgings and lots of wine and fine dining. His most popular by far is a day trip over this section that he calls "Trestles, Tunnels and Tasting." He shuttles you to the start of the trail and provides the bikes. You cycle for 20 kilometres, through the tunnels and over the trestles, then end up at a Kelowna-area winery (such as Summerhill Pyramid) for a gourmet lunch and tasting.
"We earn our wine and food" is one of Kruger's mantras.
Day 2 was my favourite -- and not only because it was all downhill. We began by being shuttled by van to our starting point: Chute Lake Resort, a rustic, rambling old lodge set high in the hills. The couple who run the place are seniors and she is famous for her fruit pies.
And then we were off -- and this time I made sure I was practically bumping into Kruger's back tire.
The trail takes you from about 1,200 metres elevation all the way down, in a series of switchbacks, to Penticton, which sits at the south end of Okanagan Lake, at about 350 metres. Also once part of the Kettle Valley Railway, it's the longest 2% grade (as steep as most trains can manage) in Canadian rail history. If it weren't for the fact ATVs had churned up the path, making the sand a bit difficult to navigate, the ride would have been beyond phenomenal. As it was, it was merely the best 46 km of my life (so far, anyway).
We sailed by towering, fresh-smelling fir trees, stopped to examine rock ovens where rail workers got their loaf of bread a day, and saw irises and other remnants of gardens, planted by wives or loose women who stayed at the stations.
We looked way down over cliffs that fall perilously toward Okanagan Lake, then switched back again, passed some bear droppings, switched back and cycled through a tunnel, and soon found ourselves down by the lake, on the Naramata Bench. The area is famous for its wines and is just so unbelievably beautiful, with lush vineyards sloping down to the sparkling lake.
We stopped for another delicious lunch and wine tasting at Hillside Estate Winery, then we voluntarily cycled down a steep hill, knowing we'd only have to go up again, to visit another winery, Poplar Grove, that also has a boutique cheese-making facility.
Then it was all downhill again -- an exhilarating final half-hour that took us zooming alongside roads to the paved path in Penticton that traces the south end of Okanagan Lake and took us right to our hotel.
Day 3 is what Kruger calls the South Okanagan Wine Country Tour. You leave Penticton beside a canal that connects Okanagan Lake to Skaha Lake. At the end of the day, lush vineyards on all sides are cradled by golden and soft brown hills beyond. By now, we're leaving green terrain for drier land in the south.
We start Day 4 in the desert, having been shuttled from Burrowing Owl to Spirit Ridge Vineyard Resort in Osoyoos. You can see the United States from here. You also might spot a rattlesnake in the dry hills.
I wake up early and stroll around the resort, sampling some Cabernet Sauvignon before breakfast -- not the wine, but a couple of the grapes, which I snitch from the tidy (and labelled) vines all around the hotel.
Our last day of cycling is a crowd-pleaser: We're shuttled to See Ya Later Ranch winery, then get on our bikes for a mostly downhill (partly screamingly downhill) ride on quiet back-roads. Because we're all curious about what grows in the area besides grapes, Kruger adds an unscheduled detour to Covert Farms and Pancho's Country Market, where my friend Deb buys a jar of honey and a huge bunch of fresh basil to take home to Calgary. Customers are sitting in the sun, munching pork tostadas that are laden with field-fresh tomatoes.
We cruise all the way into Oliver for lunch. After, we stop by a fruit depot and buy big bags of just-picked apples for ridiculously low prices. This really is the land of plenty.
It has been overcast all morning, threatening rain but, unexpectedly, the sun breaks through. We all exclaim "Mon-aaahhh-shhee!" in unison.
Kruger has been trying to explain the origin of "Monashee!" to me all week. A Scottish prospector is said to have given the B.C. mountain range its name by exclaiming "Monashee" when the sun came out after several hard days trekking in snow. It means "mountains of peace" in Gaelic.
It's also the name of Kruger's company, which he started in the Monashee mountains, on the east side of the Okanagan.
But it obviously means something else to him, something about why he's here, doing what he does. I think what he's really saying is: "It's so great to be alive and enjoying this beautiful land."
Monashee, indeed.
-Laura Robin is the Ottawa Citizen's travel editor. She did the Kettle Valley cycle in late September.
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IF YOU GO
For more on Monashee Adventure Tours, From $80 per person for a self-guided Myra Canyon Trestles & Tunnels tour (minimum two people; Kruger provides the bikes and shuttle) to $150 per person for the guided Trestles, Tunnels and Tasting tour, which includes lunch at a winery or pub. Multi-day trips range from $300 per person per day for self-guided tours in rustic accommodations to $600 per person per day for deluxe, guided tours with high-end lodgings and lots of wine and fine dining.
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