Day 15

Looking back at fifty, I remember the pure visceral joy of Day 13—the moment the mechanical guilt of the U-Haul was replaced by the rhythm of the pedals. We rose early in Banff, and as the clouds gave way to a brilliant sun, everything felt renewed. Saying goodbye to Chip and Jim was bittersweet, but the pull of the road was finally stronger than the comfort of a guest room.

The ride through Canmore was a sensory masterclass. I remember the mountains there lining up like a massive granite jawbone, their sheer scale only truly hitting you when you noticed the "miniature" trees clinging to their sides. Then, suddenly, the Rockies just... ended. One moment we were surrounded by peaks, and the next, we were staring at the infinite flat expanse of the Prairies. With a massive tailwind pushing us, we were averaging 40kph with almost no effort, and the hubris of youth took over—we decided to scrap our 60km plan and push all the way to Calgary.

The Prairies immediately taught us a lesson in humility. The wind shifted, turning from a helpful shove into a punishing easterly headwind. The "big hill" Jim warned us about wasn't a mountain, but a long, agonizing 11km grind that felt eternal. I remember the surreal sight of the 1988 Olympic ski jumps appearing on the horizon like a concrete mine. By the time we hit the Calgary city limits, the rain was coming down hard and we were hopelessly lost on the University of Calgary campus. But reaching that dorm room, having biked 123.7 kilometers—our biggest day yet—felt like a definitive statement: the trip was back on, and we were stronger than we thought.

We wake early to clouds but by the time we finish breakfast the skies are already beginning to clear. We reassemble and repack all of our gear that has been scattered, moved about, and rearranged in the past five days. Dressed in cycling gear, in our element, we pause to let Chip take a group picture of us. It feels so good to be riding again.

We slowly curl our way around Cascade Mountain before getting back onto the Trans Canada Highway. As we reach Canmore, we pass a series of mountains in a unnaturally perfect line parallel to the highway. Our friend describes it as a jawbone, and indeed it looks like a long row of molars and jagged canines. Suddenly, there are no more mountains. We pass between two mountains and ahead of us are flat, grassy plains. Looking back, we can see a line of mountains where the Rockies come to an abrupt end.

The wind continues to blow strongly on our backs; I am averaging 40kph and pedaling quite easily. Seeing how we are making such good time, we decide to push on and try to reach Calgary. Soon enough pedaling starts to become a little more difficult. The hill is not very steep but it appears to go on forever. I am feeling very energized and for once, I actually make it to the top of a hill ahead of Blue. I am greeted at the summit by a sign proclaiming the elevation.

The wind switches and is now blowing directly at us from the east. It is very slow going. Wendy and I are falling behind Blue and our friend who is with us, who are having to stop occasionally to let us catch up. As we enter the city it begins to rain. Blue and our friend eventually get directions to the appropriate housing office at the University. Fortunately, the housing guy accidently charges us half price for the rooms. We have a thoroughly good meal and toast an extremely long day of biking, arriving in Calgary a day earlier than we had expected.