Day 31
   
   5/28/01
   Mile 3072
   Dawson Creek, British Columbia
   
   In the morning I stopped at the local sporting goods store, to get one
   more tire to use as an emergency spare in case something horrible
   happened. From here on, parts would be hard to get. I asked the
   salesman for a 700x23 tire and he looked at me funny - a road bike? You
   want a tire for a road bike? They had a few, but everything they did here
   was for mountain bikes. The roads were generally such that nobody was
   interested in anything else.
   
   The store hadn't opened until 9am, so it was about 9:30 when I left
   town.  There was a fair amount of traffic, and frost heaving caused
   cracks in the pavement. The effect was to give me a small speed bump to go
   over, every 2-3 seconds, mile after mile.
   
   I rolled on past mildly hilly terrain, and things got nicer. A little
   sun even, not a bad day. Three miles from Dawson Creek, the rain
   started. As usual, hail came a few minutes later. The forecast for
   the night was for continued rains and 60kph winds. I decided not to fight 
   it and asked a local where to stay. She recommended to me a hostel-type place
   called the Alaska hotel, only $28CAD and best of all, no TV. Turns out
   it was over top of a bar, and tonight was karaoke night.
   
   I laid out my clothes to dry out in the room, then went down to get a
   little food since it was 9pm and I'd been told the restaurant closed
   at 9:30. I decided on just a salad since I hadn't had any greens all day.
   I sat there in the bar, waiting for the local color to start up.  Boy
   did it.
   
   There was a stand-up comic telling the absolute worst jokes
   imaginable; downright painful puns, utterly predictable punchlines, 
   groaners that would make a ten-year-old cross his eyes. Then came the Elvis
   impersonator, with a routine that made me wince.  Forget it buddy; you
   can't do Elvis with blond hair. Next was a woman karaoke singer trying
   desperately to find a key.  I did not know humans could make sounds
   like that - it was more like a sheep being slaughtered.  Slowly.
   
   There were two women sitting at the table next to me that looked like
   they had native indian heritage.  One struck up a conversation with
   me, then asked me to move my chair to her table.  I asked her where she
   was from, and found out she was a local.  We talked for the next several
   minutes, about the usual stuff.  Then she asked if I liked rock and
   roll music.

   "Sure", I said.
   "Do you want to go to a different bar? I know a better one with better
   music."
   So far so good, I thought.  A library would be better than this.
   "Where is it?" I asked.
   "It's a strip club just around the corner."
   An alarm bell sounded somewhere in the back of my head. The
   possibility
   existed that something might just be amiss here.
   I blew off the comment, saying I really didn't want to go, and she
   slowly became more insistent, eventually grabbing my arm to try to
   drag me to my feet.  "I won't rip you off or nothin.  All you gotta do is buy
   me a beer."
   
   I said I had to go pay my bill; I went up to the cashier, purposely
   paying by credit card so the transaction would take a bit longer.
   
   "See that woman at my table," I asked her while not looking at
   anything but the countertop, "Know anything about her?"
   "Be careful with that one" was the reply, doing the same surreptitious
   routine I was.  This cashier was with the program.
   "That's what I figured", I muttered back.  I signed the receipt,
   leaving a few extra dollars above the regular tip for the advice.
   
   I returned to my seat, and the cajoling continued inbetween her sips
   of beer. I made it clear I wasn't leaving to go anywhere with her.
   
   "Can you loan me toonie then?" (A toonie is a Canadian two-dollar
   coin).
   "What for?"
   "I just want a toonie."
   
   Fighter aircraft are equipped with a device called IFF, for
   "Identification Friend or Foe". Mine just acquired a lock.
   Somehow I doubted it was going to stop at just a toonie.
   
   I excused myself, got up from the table, and went to sleep in my room.
   Sponging off tourists is bad karma.

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