Relearning the art of cycling

KVR Trail trestle in vineyard, Penticton 

Last November, I purchased a Norco Indie VLT e-bike. I had visions of zooming with my new e-bike up the many hills surrounding my home in the Okanagan Valley (perhaps with a lovely glass of champagne in one hand, and a plate of strawberries in the other).

I didn't start riding until May 1st, because I am a fair-weather rider. I don't do ice, snow, rainstorms, or wind! As it turns out, there are different types of e-bikes. Some that have a throttle, and some that don't. I have the latter. My Indie VLT has pedal-assist. If I don't pedal, the bike will stop, and I would probably fall over while I waited in stunned surprise for something to happen.

The last bicycle that I owned was in 2009, when I lived on Isla Mujeres, Mexico. I only rode it for a year or two before the constant maintenance took the fun out of riding near the Caribbean Sea. Hot, salty winds can play havoc with anything metal. This out-of-condition-seventy-something body has also forgotten how tough bike riding can be on a person's private bits. Two days in, and I bought a softer gel seat. 

Using my old-school paper calendar, I've carefully tracked my progress this summer. On May 1st, I accomplished a shaky twenty minutes and four kilometers on nearby bike lanes. By May 31st, I was traveling about fifteen kilometers, from Skaha Lake to Okanagan Lake, and back. Not far, and not fast. But at least I was doing it.

On June 11th, while cycling home from a fifteen-kilometer bike ride from Skaha Lake to Okanagan Lake, and back, I decided to take a shortcut through the Walmart parking lot. A female Mule deer passed me! In the parking lot. Just as calm as could be, walking quickly and heading in the same direction as me. My speedometer said I was pedaling at twenty-three kilometers per hour. Was she speeding?

KVR Little Tunnel view north 

Later in the summer, on August 22nd, I was able to cross off one of my goals—reaching the Naramata Little Tunnel, on the KVR Trailway. Built on the abandoned railway bed, the trail has a steady incline from where I live near Skaha Lake Park, all the way to the tunnel. The panoramic views of Peachland, Summerland, Penticton, Naramata, and south, to Skaha Lake were worth the effort. The forty-seven-kilometer round-trip is a steady grind on the way up and a cool, breezy downhill cruise on the way home.

Entrance to OK Falls on trail

A week later, on August 29th, I crossed off another goal—riding south to Okanagan Falls and back, via another section of the abandoned railway lines. Running along the edge of Skaha Lake, this trail is flatter but rougher, and quite narrow in some spots, necessitating a bumpy detour into the weeds to bypass walkers, cyclists, or occasionally horseback riders.

Then on September 6th, I cycled on yet another section of the KVR to the entrance of the Pine Hills Golf Club on the West Bench. This trail is considerably rougher, with several small washouts. The views are fantastic. Riding this section made me realize I need to learn how to repair a flat tire.

Near Pine Hills Golf Club

Since May 1st, I've pedaled my butt an impressive 720 kilometers (448 miles) and spent 40 hours on my trusty steed, averaging about 18 kilometers per hour.

My rides have been fantastic; however, the physical results have been mixed.

On the plus side:

My leg and back muscles are stronger. I'm regaining strength in my arms and hands.

I enjoy experiencing the sights, the sounds, and the smells in different parts of my community.

I love the rush of the feel-good endorphins from the physical activity.

Forgot my lock, had to pee

On the negative side:

I've done a header over the handlebars, only once, though. Skinning my hands, knees, and twisting my left thumb. I always wear a helmet to protect my noggin.

I haven't lost any weight, not even a little bit. I haven't increased my food intake or changed my eating habits. I don't snack. I eat 90% fresh fruits, fresh veggies, and a bit of protein. It seems as if my body has gone into survival mode, storing every last calorie in anticipation of a worldwide famine, or some other catastrophic disaster that only my metabolic system knows about.

And my right foot constantly hurts from the increased physical activity. I've been plagued by arthritis in that foot since I accidentally dropped a large bottle of cheap Schloss Laderheim Riesling when I worked at the Snug Cove General Store on Bowen Island in 1980-81. I instinctively stuck my right foot out and saved the bottle from smashing on the concrete floor. Many times, I have wished I could change that split-second decision and let the damn bottle break, splashing cheap wine everywhere.

1980 Lynda, Snug Cove Store

But. Who knows, maybe if I had altered my reaction to that falling bottle, it would have somehow had a cascade effect in my life, and I wouldn't have had the wild adventures that I've experienced.

Maybe it was a cosmic trade-off.

Cheers

Lynda

Sparky sends his woofs!

Isla Mujeres Mysteries or Death in the Vineyards 
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Ruby Blues. Yummy wines and doggie friendly!

Woof! Woof! This is Sparky. My hooman and I have been exploring different places in the south Okanagan Valley in Canada, and we have found some wineries that are very doggie-friendly. Yesterday we visited Ruby Blues Winery at 917 Naramata Road in Penticton. 

One of the owners, Prudence Ruby Mahrer (now you know where the name Ruby came from, right?), personally came out to greet me and give me a big squishy hug. Even though my hooman has known Prudence and her hubby, Beat, for twenty-five years, my hooman only got a socially acceptable COVID-19 air hug. 

Prudence, and The Sparkinator

I got a big hug, was offered a nice dish of cool water, and was invited inside the wine shop. I really like Prudence.

We have another friend who also works at Ruby Blues Winery. 

Her name is Sharon Hickey, and she helps customers sample the different wines and tells them things like, "Red Stiletto is an easy-sipping red wine that pairs well with salmon or lamb chops." 

Well, I love salmon and lamb chops, but my hooman says I am not allowed to drink. She says the wine is for her to share with her friends. Humph! I thought I was her bestest friend.

We met some other people at the winery who were excited to hear that I am famous, the star of the Isla Mujeres Mystery novels. 

Oh, and they were sort of interested to speak to my hooman who writes about my adventures. She has to do the typing because I can't use a keyboard very well. I am just a two-toed typist.

My hooman also says that if you like yummy wines that are only available from the winery, you should visit Ruby Blues on the Naramata Bench in Penticton, or you can order from their website:https://www.rubyblueswinery.ca/. 

Just in case you were wondering about the behind-the-scenes guys, Beat Mahrer creates magic by growing delicious grapes, and Blair Gillingham is the talented winemaker.

My hooman bought the special deal of six bottles for $100.00 and is now entered in the monthly contest to win more wine. 

Personally I think she should be entering contests to win me a piece of steak!

That's just my opinion

Woof! Woof!

Sparky, aka The Sparkinator

~

Murder and mayhem. Revenge and romance. 

Twisted Isla, Book #6 of the Isla Mujeres Mystery series, is available on Amazon in e-book or paperback format. Grab your copy today!

 

Winter here, winter there: Mexico vs Canada

Our home in Penticton, BC, a few years ago.

Shivering despite wearing a turtle-necked sweater over a second sweater, her image is projected, via Skype, from her house in the north to our computer in Mexico.  It is -5 °C, or 23 °F!  The heating system is struggling to warm their house.  

The driveway has been snow-covered for two weeks, with never enough time between snowstorms to completely clear it. It is snowing again as we chat with her. Brrr.  

Every winter, a few of our dedicated friends and family members make the two-week trek back to northern homes to visit with grown children and grandchildren for the holiday season. Are they crazy? Probably.

Lawrie, leading the way on a hike across our property.

When we lived in Canada, Lawrie’s dad would make his annual sales pitch to his three grown children and grandchildren.  “Let’s go to Hawaii for Christmas this year!”  

And every year we all pooh-poohed the idea. “It’s not Christmas without snow.  It’s just not Christmas with palm trees and sandy beaches.” 

Were we crazy?  Yep!

Friends and family enjoying a winter lunch at Ballyhoo

In Mexico, we can swim, snorkel, fish, boat, and buzz around on a motorcycle or golf cart twelve months of the year.  

Occasionally, we experience a cold front from the north that drops the temperature by ten degrees, blowing fine white sand into our swimming pool and killing the more delicate tropical plants.  

Central heating for houses is unheard of here, so when the odd “Norte” hits, we simply add an extra blanket to the bed at night. The “Norte” also creates my only gardening challenge: finding plants that can survive the salty winds.

John and Lynda, 1986, x-country skiing.

In the north during the winter months, you can ski, snowboard, ice skate, toboggan, build snow-people, and shovel the white stuff from driveways, or scrape the ice from your car windshield every morning. 

Annually, in October, we drove our vehicles to the local garage to have winter-tread tires installed, and then in April, we reversed the process to switch back to summer-tread tires.  

World-famous Ice Wine harvest in Okanagan Valley, BC.

Every fall, I'd carefully put my garden to bed for the winter, covering over less hardy plants with straw mulch, cleaning out pots of geraniums and stacking the terracotta pots in the garage until spring. 

In Canada, we prided ourselves on not feeling the cold, wearing lightweight clothing during the winter months as proof that we were truly Canadian, tough like our pioneer forefathers, and able to face adversity. 

Friends and family enjoying a winter in Mexico

When we first moved to Isla Mujeres, we snickered at the sight of locals bundled up in parkas, with toques pulled down tightly over their heads, and knee-high boots covering chilly skin. 

Strangely enough, after living here for four years, we are comfortable wearing jeans and occasionally a sweater during the winter months.  

Our northern blood is thinning; we are acclimatizing. All the more reason to spend winters here and not there.

Hasta luego

Lynda & Lawrie

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Isla Mujeres Mystery Series

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Death in the Vineyards Mysteries

The Adventures of Thomas and Sparky