What was your first tour? Does it still seem like yesterday?

My first long Saskatchewan bicycle tour happened when I signed up for the 1986 Great Saskatchewan Heritage Bicycle Tour. I had heard about this annual event, organized by the Wascana Freewheelers, for the previous three years, but I never got up the nerve to join these cyclists who obviously were so much more "athletic" and "adventurous" than I was. They were riding all over the province like they knew what they were doing, while I was sneaking out of my apartment for rides along Regina's Devonian Pathway and, occasionally, on some of the grid roads around the city, venturing out for an hour or two at a time.

Yet, every spring, I'd hear reports of these travellers and their adventures through the province, while I grew more and more bored with riding the same trail over and over again. By 1986 I had finally decided to join the tour. It took some doing. I wondered how this group would take to a newcomer. I wondered if I'd be accepted, or if would find myself riding alone on the road and sitting alone in camp. I worried that these experienced cyclists would leave me in their dust, abandonning me to fend for myself as I struggled to keep up.

I had been riding a bike all my life, but this tour would be different. Of course I rode everywhere while I was growing up. There was a time when kids rode bikes, you know. I had ridden long trips as a teenager, smitten by my bicycle's ability to take me on incredible journeys and introduce me to new people. But I had also just experienced a long hiatus from cycling, having lived in Vancouver during a time when cyclists faced unmitigated discrimination and animosity. Cyclists were all but forbidden from riding to the university campus. Occasionally, newspapers would publish reports of fistfights between cyclists and motorists. Who could ride in that kind of atmosphere? I gave up cycling for nearly a decade. One of the first things I did upon reaching Saskatchewan was buy a new bike and begin riding again. It was a wonderful feeling, but it wasn't at all like riding in the mountains.

But I had made up my mind and was determined to go through with the tour. I went to the participant meetings, where we learned about the route and what we need to do to prepare for the trip. I packed nearly two weeks in advance, checking and double checking my gear each night to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything important. My employer had approved a day's vacation.

Early on that Friday morning preceding the Victoria Day weekend, I packed my bike and gear into my car, and drove out to the Moose Jaw Western Development Museum. The temperature was just around freezing and a fierce northwest wind was blowing a late-season snow horizontally. Yet, we departed on schedule, headed for Assiniboia. I gritted my teeth, pulled the zipper on my jacket tight up around my neck, pulled on my warmest cross-country ski gloves and pushed off into the wind. The snow had stopped, but it was still cloudy, when we reached the Sukanen Ship Museum. It felt good to go indoors for a spell. Back on the road, I looked up from the pavement as another snow squall hit us, near Ardill, to see a line of cyclists ahead of me, all tilted fully 45-degrees so they could maintain a straight line into that unrelenting wind. We stopped for a snack at the Mossbank turnoff, and at that point the tour magically changed.

While we munched our snacks, the wind blew the clouds away, then shifted around to the north. The sun finally came out, feeling warm and welcoming. The wind pushed us swiftly toward Assiniboia. We pedalled at amazing speeds on a highway almost completely devoid of traffic. With the wind at our backs and the sun casting a golden light on the spring prairie, we quickly made up for lost time earlier in the day. For the rest of the trip, each day was warmer, reaching 35 degrees Celsius on more than one occasion.

As much as I'll never forget that first day of my first Saskatchewan tour - or the sight of all those cyclists hunched over their handlebars, tilted 45 degrees into the wind near Ardill - what I'll always remember about that trip is the friends I made. Each evening, we'd sit in camp, sharing stories, talking of places we'd visited, discussing the museums and people we encountered. It was an eclectic group, teachers, bankers, doctors, civil servants, business people, all brought together by the common bond of their bicycles and a love for adventure. Most amazing of all, the friends I made on that trip are still my friends today. Some of those cyclists, those who still live in the province, will be with us on GASP 2009.

Do you remember your first bicycle tour? What was it like, your first solo adventure, club trip or GASP tour? Post your comments to tell us about your first tour.

Saskatchewan's changing touring tastes

The 1990s were an exciting time for cycling in Saskatchewan. More people were buying bikes than ever before, and many of those people were joining cycling clubs. Clubs were springing up in small towns, while cities with existing clubs found themselves with a bewildering array of groups to join. BMX gained a popularity not seen in years. Randonneuring, kind of like touring, but without the comfortable accommodation and the fancy food, was attracting a lot of Saskatchewan cyclists.

Touring was changing, especially as mountain bikes became more popular. Mountain bikers treat touring as more of a destination activity: hang the bikes off the back of the car, drive to a popular resort or wilderness area, then spend your time perfecting your technique riding circuits of trails. Touring traditionalists preferred the call of the open road, using their bicycles much in the same way as some generations remember the family vacation: pack everything into the vehicle (in this case, your bike) and go explore the towns and sights along the highways and back roads for a week or longer. Still, it wasn't uncommon to see mountain bikes laden with gear being pedalled down the province's highways, or the occasional touring bike on a wilderness trail.


The Last Heritage Ride

The Great Saskatchewan Heritage Bicycle Tour made a final appearance in 1996, following a three-year absence. Starting in Rosetown, the cyclists rode to Biggar, Kerrobert and Kindersley before returning to Rosetown.

With the Heritage Tour gone, organizers began looking for an early-season event that had more appeal for destination-oriented cyclists.


Provincial Bike Festival

The Provincial Bike Festival in Fort Qu’Appelle debuted on the last weekend of May, 1997. Similar to an immensely popular Spoke Festival held in conjunction with the town of Qu'Appelle's "Capital for a Day" celebration twelve years earlier, cyclists began gathering at the Echo Valley Conference at Fort San on Friday night. Staff lit a huge fire for a marshmallow and wiener roast, while cyclists selected their rooms. Lightning silhouetted the hillsides and thunder echoed in the distance as they gathered around the fire to hear plans for the weekend’s cycling. The following morning dawned sunny and fresh after the previous night's rain, and the cyclists enjoyed riding under fair weather for the next two days.

One trip took cyclists through the scenic Qu'Appelle valley, then south to Indian Head for lunch before returning them through Qu'Appelle. Everyone got back in time to ride to downtown Fort Qu’Appelle for ice cream. Some even had enough energy for a ride around the lake before returning to the conference centre for supper. That night the group shared cycling stories, including tales of old heritage tours, around another bonfire.

The bike festival continued into the new millennium, alternating between weekends near the Victoria Day holiday.

Still, cyclists longed for the kind of adventure that could only be found on a longer trip, not during a weekend.

For more information about Saskatchewan's long and colourful cycling history, check out Pat Rediger's 2001 book, Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan (ISBN 0968196543 / 9780968196540 / 0-9681965-4-3), avaiable from the Saskatchewan Cycling Association or your local library branch (in Regina, in Saskatoon).

Druid's connection to cycling (and a darker past)

Druid, a railroad town on the GASP 2009 tour route between Kerrobert and Herschel, has a round about connection with Saskatoon's cycling community. Back in November, I was speaking with friend and fellow BikeE rider Cas Wolan (not the famous medical pioneer, Dr. Cas Wolan, the younger Cas Wolan) about our proposed tour route.

"My aunt's from Druid," Cas reminded me.

Cas' grandfather, Stephen Rogal, emmigrated from Poland, taking work with the CPR in 1911. It wasn't long before he became station agent and section foreman, responsible for a stretch of rail line around Druid, on the Moose Jaw to Macklin branch line.

Cas' aunt, Frances Weber, Rogal's daughter, lived in Druid. She owned the general store there from 1947 to 1963. Even at its peak, in 1911, Druid's population never exceeded 50 people. Nonetheless, the town supported the general store, a three storey hotel, a boarding house and a livery stable.

But Dodsland expanded to town status, while Druid faded away. The town's earliest land holder decided to develop Dodsland. Druid's fate was pretty much sealed when the courthouse, originally planned for Druid, went to Plenty, instead.

There's not much left of Druid these days. Cas' grandmother's house is still there. It's pretty much the only original building left in the town.

Frances Weber, who is in her 90s and now lives in Saskatoon, recalls the Orange Order parades that used to take place. The area has a darker past. In 1926, the Ku Klux Klan, centred in Moose Jaw, drew much support from throughout the region. Aunt Fran still remembers the KKK activity and vandalism perpetrated against local Catholics.

Update (3:47 p.m.): The Biggar Museum & Gallery contains a controversial exhibit depicting the history of the Ku Klux Klan in that town. The exhibit tells the story of a community affected by the Ku Klux Klan in the late 1920s. Remember, folks: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." (George Santayana , U.S. philosopher and poet, 1863-1952, from Life of Reason, Reason in Common Sense, Scribner's, 1905, page 284.)

Update (4:51 p.m.): Although the senior Cas Wolan became known for his work in kidney transplants and urology ("If you can't pee, call T [Manuel Ty, Dr. Wolan's partner]. If your kidney's swollen, call Wolan," he used to say), he was also an early pioneer of Canada's public health care system. While working as a young medical practitioner in Swift Current, Dr. Wolan was a member of the committee that set up Canada's first regional public health demonstration area. Perhaps on a future GASP tour we can visit the birthplace of public medicine.

The Great Saskatchewan Heritage Bicycle Tour

In 1982, Virginia Hatch and Bill Stewart, inspired by bicycle tours they had seen elsewhere in Canada, formed the Wascana Freewheelers Bicycle Touring Club. By 1983, the couple, along with Noreen Hetherington, Sue Bland and a handful of friends, began work on a novel Saskatchewan bicycle tour.

Virginia's work at the Saskatchewan Museums Association inspired her to organize a tour that featured visits to the province’s museums. From that gathering of cyclists and their ideas sprang the Great Saskatchewan Heritage Tour, an annual trip during the Victoria Day weekend that continued into the 1990s.

“There is so much history out there that it was just sort of fun to be able to go to all these museums and talk to people,” Virginia told members writing a history of cycling in Saskatchewan. “Many of the cyclists are interested in history. They weren’t aware of all the museums we have. Saskatchewan has more museums per capita than any other province. There’s over 200. We tried to organize a break stop at a museum and try to get the local people that work in the museum to contribute chocolate bars and that sort of thing.” (Source: "Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan," by Pat Rediger, 2001.)

The first Heritage Tour took place in 1983. More than 30 cyclists showed up on a spring morning in front of the Regina Plains Museum and joined a police escort out of the city along Highway 11. The group overnighted at Strasbourg, some camping and others in the hotel, then continued the next day to Watrous before finishing at the Bessborough Hotel in Saskatoon on the third day.

Batoche or Bust

The 1985 Heritage Tour commemorated the centennial of the Northwest Rebellion, cycling from Regina to Batoche. Doug Hendrickson began a short story entitled, “Batoche or Bust: Or How I Learned to Stop Crunching and Learned to Spin”, later completed by Robert Stedwill after Doug died suddenly in a skiing accident. Doug described spending several days packing equipment that included a tent, sleeping bag, extra clothing and rice cakes.

The tour began at the Saskatchewan Legislature in Regina and the scene upon Hendrickson's arrival was one of “organized confusion”. Equipment was being placed in trucks and then taken out as riders wanted to take out or add a few things to their packs. Bikes were leaned against trees and light standards, television crews were interviewing organizers and groups of cyclists could be spotted talking to each other about the upcoming trip.

Members of the provincial government offered to prepare and serve breakfast to the thirty-one participants. The riders listened to speeches from various dignitaries and collected their red T shirts and tour packages. After several false starts to satisfy the local media, the group pedalled out of the Legislative grounds with a police escort. . . .

Craven marked the first stop of any duration. The local bakery had just finished producing a batch of donuts (four for a dollar) and numerous cyclists stopped by to feed their sweet tooths. . . .

Strasbourg marked my first introduction to what was to become a familiar experience as the tour progressed; most small Saskatchewan towns have a museum of one form or another, of which they are rightfully proud. The good people running the Strasbourg museum laid on coffee and fruit for us out of the goodness of their hearts. . . .

At breakfast the next morning, Hendrickson’s tour leader Phil Klein encouraged the group to get to know one another. He took the initiative by introducing himself to other cyclists by saying, “Hi, I’m Phil.” It was not long before other riders began mimicking him and introducing themselves as Phil. It was a joke that would continue for the rest of the tour.
(Source: "Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan," by Pat Rediger, 2001.)

The tour continued on through Cymric, Govan, Nokomis, Lanigan and Humboldt, over gently rolling hills and breathtaking scenery through Dana, Cudworth and Wakaw, before rolling to its conclusion at Batoche. All along the way, they visited each museum, camped or stayed in hotels. At Wakaw the riders enjoyed a banquet in the local hall, followed by presentations of awards to riders. The camaraderie of the trip made close friends of people who mostly had been strangers just three days earlier.

That was a busy year for touring. Fourteen cyclists took part in a Lake Diefenbaker Heritage Ride later that summer, departing from Central Butte for an overnight stop in Elbow, where they camped at the school yard and used the school facilities. From there, they crossed Gardiner Dam, stayed at Coldwell Provincial Campground, crossed the ferry at Riverhurst, where Kathy Saunders met them with watermelon and beverages. After a brief rest, the group finished their tour back in Central Butte.

The Perogy Pedal

In 1987 the Saskatchewan Heritage Ride celebrated its fifth anniversary with the Perogy Pedal. A record 51 riders left Yorkton after a tour of the Western Development Museum and St. Mary’s Ukrainian Catholic Church and lunch at St. Mary’s Cultural Centre. They spent their first night at Good Spirit Lake, then continued through Canora and Mikado, enjoyed lunch at the Doukhobour Museum in Veregin, rested at Kamsack and then camped at Duck Mountain. Day three took the cyclists to Benito, Manitoba, then on to Arran, Pelly, Norquay, Hyas, Stenan, Sturgis and Preeceville. The last day of the weekend trip took the cyclists through Buchanan, Springside, White Spruce, Orcadia and finally into Yorkton.

Each Heritage Tour was memorable in its own way, adding to the lore of bicycle touring in Saskatchewan. The 1988 tour, with 43 participants, continued the journey from Batoche to Waskesiu and back, via Prince Albert and Shellbrook.

The 1989 tour took 43 riders from Craven, starting with a breakfast of cinnamon buns and a visit by Mayor Art Wolf, to Watrous and back.

Some riders stopped at Duval, which featured a pool hall, bowling lane and general store all in one building. This group enjoyed nineteen cent popcycles and bowled for only sixty-five cents a game. The riders camped at Govan that night and many ate at the local hotel. . . .

The wind had picked up the next day and the sky looked ominous. The first stop was at the Nokomis museum, where they also enjoyed muffins and juice. Lunch was provided further down the road by the sag wagon. The riders then braved the fierce winds to the Manitou District Park, where they had supper and set up their tents. When supper was over, most riders walked or rode to the nearby mineral spa for a dip in the waters. They finished the evening by dancing up a storm at Danceland.

The riders ate breakfast at Paul's Place in Watrous and then headed to the Simpson museum. Riders ate lunch at the museum grounds and then rode to the campground at Arm River. The riders were responsible for their own supper that night, and many enjoyed a helping of spaghetti prepared by Brian Fergusson and Jeff Niebergall. After warming themselves up at a campfire, the riders hung a tricycle shaped pinata filled with candy to the rafters of the cook shack.
(Source: "Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan," by Pat Rediger, 2001.)

At the start of the eighth annual Great Saskatchewan Heritage Bicycle Tour, in 1990. The group gathered at Chaplin, where they toured the sodium sulphate plant, learning how the salt was captured and refined. The group continued through Central Butte for a picnic lunch with the wind pushing them to an early arrival at Douglas Provincial Park

The tour committee whipped up a hot stew with fresh bread and Ron Keall added a bit of his Louisiana hot sauce to the mix. Jean Louis Desrosiers managed to get a roaring fire started in the middle of the campground and this was where most of the group spent the evening. Some people got a little too close to the fire and their shoes started burning!
(Source: "Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan," by Pat Rediger, 2001.)

The tour continued on to Outlook, returning to Chaplin via the Riverhurst Ferry and an overnight stop at Palliser Regional Park.

Heritage Ride celebrates 10th anniversary

The 10th Annual Great Saskatchewan Heritage Bicycle Tour celebrated its “Return Trek to 'Toon Town”. The tour retraced the route of the first ride from Regina to Saskatoon, with some of the original club founders along for the trip.


Too much of a good thing

The 1993 Heritage Tour started in Tisdale, and looped through Nipawin and Choiceland before returning south through the Wapiti Valley and Melfort. Eighteen riders took part in this event, which would prove to be the last one of its kind.

Although an annual weekend tour early in the season had fallen out of favour with cyclists, there was growing interest in longer tours during the summer. We'll take a closer look at those tours, the next stage in the evolution of the GASP tour, in a later post.

For more information about Saskatchewan's long and colourful cycling history, check out Pat Rediger's 2001 book, Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan (ISBN 0968196543 / 9780968196540 / 0-9681965-4-3), avaiable from the Saskatchewan Cycling Association or your local library branch (in Regina, in Saskatoon).

Saskatchewan's long history of bicycle touring

Back in 1913, the bicycle had been around for about half a century (not counting the walking machine, which had been around for some time before that). Saskatchewan's roads were little better than horse trails and cow paths. This didn't prevent one settler from trekking across the country to homestead near Maple Creek, travelling with only a handful of clothes and his bicycle. He remarked that he had put more than 3,000 miles on his bicycle during his first year on the farm.

Consider the earlier exploits of legendary Jack Hitchcock, who homesteaded near Birsay. He was born in 1870 in Quebec, and his quest for adventure led him to western Canada in 1894.

One of his greatest passions was building and riding bicycles. He rode many miles across the open west and his own cattle range provided many opportunities for riding. He also enjoyed motor bikes and in 1924 he rode a motor bike with a side carrier from Massachusetts to Birsay. It was no easy task considering the deep-rutted and dusty roads of the day. Hitchcock died on June 22, 1962, in Saskatoon.
(Source: Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan, by Pat Rediger, 2001.)

By the 1930s, cycling had become a very popular pastime, especially in the Prince Albert region. A July 10, 1933, newspaper account relates the story of Saskatoon cyclists Bill Kerr, Harvey Haid, Vincent Woodhead and ski champion Ross McMillian, who arrived in Waskesiu after a two day trip.

Lorne Mack of Regina described how cyclists in those days would sometimes hold a blanket between two riders and let the wind blow them along. They could reach about 45 km/hr without pedalling!

During the 1960s, cycling had gained enough enthusiasts to support the formation of cycling clubs in Regina and Saskatoon.

The 1970s are described as the "second cycling boom" (the first began in 1895). Organized cycling really took hold then, giving rise to the Saskatchewan Cycling Association and the growth of clubs throughout the province. Clubs organized excursions to Jasper, Banff and Waterton Lakes national parks, as well as cycling trips throughout Saskatchewan.

That decade was also remembered for "Cycle Canada '76", a cross-country ride to the 1976 Olympic Games in Montreal. Cyclists starting from the eastern, western and southern borders of the country all converged on Montreal, timing their arrival for July 20, 1976, the first day of Olympic cycling events. The event was organized for ordinary Canadians of every age and interest, rather than high performance athletes. About 5,000 riders participated. The Saskatchewan segment brought out people from all over the province, and not just cyclists. Towns and cities acted as hosts and set up events ranging from pancake breakfasts to ethnic dancing demonstrations. When cyclists arrived in Yorkton under heavy rains, the city offered to put them up in the local arena. In Foam Lake, townspeople organized a bicycle check. (Source: Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan, by Pat Rediger, 2001.)

Annual events like the GASP can trace their roots back to those earlier tours and the cyclists who organized them. More recently, events like The Great Saskatchewan Heritage Bicycle Tour, organized by the Wascana Freewheelers Bicycle Touring Club in the 1980s, and the SaskBike provincial tour, organized by the Saskatchewan Cycling Association during the 1990s, continued our long history of cycling. We'll save those tours for a later post.

For more information about Saskatchewan's long and colourful cycling history, Check out Pat Rediger's 2001 book, Riding with the Wind: The history of cycling in Saskatchewan (ISBN 0968196543 / 9780968196540 / 0-9681965-4-3), avaiable from the Saskatchewan Cycling Association or your local library branch (in Regina, in Saskatoon).

Going down the right track

I spent the morning today looking into locomotive roundhouses. I'm supposed to be working on a book, but.... well, it's Friday, and this just seemed like a lot more fun. Besides, I had an interview scheduled for early in the afternoon and there's no point breaking my concentration, so I might as well look into locomotive roundhouses, instead. And it's cold out; I really want to be thinking about sunnier weather and springtime. Writers can be just terrible procrastinators at times. For some reason, though, I never seem to procrastinate when it comes to cycling.

This all started because the GASP tour is passing through Biggar. For those who don't already know, there's a last-of-its-kind locomotive roundhouse in Biggar, and there's a tug-of-war happening over what's going to become of it. The circular building, constructed in 1908 for servicing and storing steam locomotives, is the last surviving roundhouse built by the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway. There is not another one like it in the whole world. When it's gone, it will be like the extinction of a species. The CNR wants to tear it down, citing liability concerns. The citizens of Biggar, and railway buffs everywhere, on the other hand, want to save it. Right now, there's a good chance the roundhouse could be torn down in 2009, before we get the chance to see it.

Railway preservationists say that the building is so well preserved that it's like the railroad just pulled out. Never mind that it has found ignominious use for housing turkeys for the past few years. Perhaps that's a back-handed social commentary about those who would tear down such an historic structure (bird-brained turkeys), but how much damage could a bunch of birds do to a place that was built to support a dozen or more gigantic iron horses?

Biggar resident and railroader Tom Cholowski and Mayor Ray Sadler organized a petition to save the roundhouse, collecting more than 2500 signatures so far. That may not sound like much, but it's more than the town's population.

Some of the cyclists intending to take part in this summer's GASP became downright excited when they heard that we'd be passing through Biggar. They knew about the roundhouse and they would love the opportunity to see it. Imagine how they felt when we asked the town if we could arrange for a closer look.

While calling around to the other towns along our route, I happened to mention how pleased we were to be able to include a visit to Biggar's roundhouse on our itinerary.

"We've got one of those," Theresa from Kerrobert said on the phone. "Well, it's just the turntable. The roundhouse is gone. But the turntable's still there. I'll ask if you could get a tour."

And that's how I ended up spending Friday morning looking into locomotive roundhouses.

My curiosity was piqued. I figured, if Biggar and Kerrobert each have one, where else could we find them on our route? I wondered what they might look like after so many years of disuse, where to look for them.

I spent about half an hour on Google Earth, looking all along the railway lines north, south, east and west of Kerrobert, trying to find something, anything, that might look like a locomotive roundhouse. I didn't really have much of a clue about what I was looking for. Finally, I spotted it, northeast of town, a circular mark on the landscape at the centre of a semicircle of concrete foundations. In the aerial view, it reminded me of a gigantic oriental fan, gradually sinking into the prairie soil.

Now, I had a shape to look for. I found similar structures in Wilkie, North Battleford and Outlook, where Google Earth had enough resolution to show the detail. I pinpointed Biggar's from the aerial photos posted on the town's website. Unity and Rosetown? Google Earth lacked the resolution to know for sure, but I'll be calling those town offices to find out.

I managed to find archive references and photos of some of the historic roundhouses. We'll be sure to include whatever we can learn about these places in the route guide for GASP 2009.

It shouldn't be surprising to find these roundhouses or, at least, their remnants. Steam locomotives needed frequent servicing. Most of the towns along our route ought to have had a roundhouse. I wonder if we'll be able to find what became of it in each place we stop.