Most of the old guys had left for Grant's Village when I returned to camp, which was a campground on the route that opened for the season that day. Brandon made a huge pan full of lentils, rice, peppers, and other things, so I ate pretty well. Half the stuff he was carrying was for cooking. I hung around camp late with Hamish and Angus, the only other cyclists interested in taking an extra day to do the long north route around the park. A local bike shop recommended the route due to reduced traffic and more wildlife, but also warned that it was significantly more hilly.
I had to stop at the first thermal feature we saw since it shared my girlfriend's middle name (Beryl). We stopped at a variety of pretty places and eventually ended up at Canyon Village after a lot of climbing. I bought a deck of cards and taught Hamish and Angus to play a game called Shithead, which is essentially a popular backpacker's version of Uno, if my friend Josh is to be believed. Angus taught Predictive Wist, trick-taking game with varying hand sizes and trump suits and a decidedly more British name than Shithead. The rules for Predictive Wist started to go out the window once it got dark, beers were consumed, and red cards became difficult to distinguish in the glow of Hamish's red headlamp.
Here's the Swiss/Canadian/Korean punk van:
Beryl Spring:
Some Asian newlyweds in their natural environment:
Gibbon Falls:
Porcelain Basin:
Some oversized cows:
And finally, me in all my warm gear, because it gets cold at 7,800 feet:
HALLEY BERYL
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