Day 9

After the emotional and physical battering of the previous few days, Day 9 arrived like a gift: bright, sunny, and filled with a renewed sense of purpose. We decided to follow the advice of our waitress in Merritt and take Highway 5A. It was a brilliant detour—scenic, quieter, and arguably flatter, though "flat" in B.C. is always a relative term.

I remember the arid shift in the landscape as we circled Nicola Lake; it felt paradoxically like the Prairies, yet tucked right into the mountains. Shayne and I had a long debate about the horizontal lines on the grass-covered hills—whether they were from cattle, old tilling, or just the way rainwater ran down the slopes. We had a peaceful lunch at Stump Lake, where the water was so calm it looked like a perfect mirror. It was one of those rare moments where the struggle of the trip felt perfectly balanced by the beauty.

The "big hill" into Kamloops was as advertised—a long, gradual grind that eventually forced us off our bikes to push. I reached the top first and stood there cheering the others on as they crested the plateau. But the real test was the final extremely steep hill directly to my cousin Josh's house; we must have looked like a truly bedraggled bunch, hunched over and pushing with the last of our strength.

The reception we received was incredible. Josh and Teresa opened their home to us, fed us better than we'd eaten in days, and let us pitch our tents in their backyard. We were even treated to a display of Irish dancing by six-year-old Deanna. That night, as we collapsed into our bags, it hit me: we had just biked 93.4 kilometres—the farthest any of us had ever gone in a single day. It was a gorgeous, grueling victory.

Despite our intentions to sleep in an hour, we all wake at 7:00a, like clockwork. We get onto Highway 5A, which our waitress yesterday said would be less busy, more scenic, and flatter. We pass though Nicola and enter "Canada's largest working cattle ranch"—it seems almost paradoxical amidst the mountains.

Before long we reach Nicola Lake and the road winds along the water's edge. I am thoroughly enjoying today's ride, especially with the warm sunshine. We stop at an old picnic area on the west side of Stump Lake for lunch at the very edge of the water, which is almost perfectly calm, reflecting the scenery. Continuing north, we pass more ranch land with horizontal lines across the hills—it appears as though some giant has tossed an enormous blanket, forming folds and gentle curves.

Before long we reach the hill we were warned of. Soon we all dismount and begin pushing our bikes. I keep wishing for the top to be just around the next corner. Blue disappears ahead of me; Wendy and her friend vanish around the curves behind me. Eventually it begins to flatten, and Blue is standing atop a crest cheering me up the last stretch. We then join together to cheer Wendy and her friend on their ascent.

We are on top of a plateau and can see hills and valleys on the horizon. We descend into Kamloops and Blue explains we have to make a left turn to get to his cousin's house—directly up another extremely steep hill. But it is all worth it. We are given a fabulous warm reception by Blue's cousin Josh and his family. We watch the sun set behind the hills before collapsing into our sleeping bags. This was the farthest any of us have ever biked in one day.