I found myself on an adventure I never expected—riding on the back of a motorcycle. It all began with a new itinerary from Travel Alberta and the Canadian Motorcycle Tourism Association (CMTA), where I was tasked with providing historical insights along the way. What I didn’t realize at the time was that the “CMTA” wasn’t just another tourism association, it is the Canadian Motorcycle Travel Association. Yep, this was a biker thing.

The first thing I learned about the trip was that it was going to be long. And when I say long, I mean a 9.5-hour drive in a car with no air conditioning. As we sweltered in the heat, my travel companion pulled out his iPhone and serenaded me with country ballads about Louis Riel.
I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for a history lesson set to twangy guitar riffs. But I tried to appreciate the gesture, and as the hours ticked by, I started to feel more and more like I might lose my mind.

After dinner, I had a chance to mingle with the rest of the group. A mix of bikers, tourism folks, and a few others with a passion for the open road. It was then that I found myself cornered by JD, one of the seasoned riders. He was curious about my story and how I was finding the trip. I may have been a little too honest, but in that moment, I didn’t care. I looked at him and said, “My name is Carmen, and I’m researching Greyhound tickets to go home. I can’t be stuck in that car for seven more days.”

JD laughed, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes. “Well,” he said, “how about I get you a helmet and take you on the back of my bike tomorrow? You’ll see a whole new side to this trip, I promise.”

I’d never been on a motorcycle before, knew little about the culture, and was definitely unsure about the experience. But in that moment, the idea of hopping onto the back of a bike seemed far more appealing than enduring another day in the car. JD must have sensed my desperation.

The first few moments were a blur of speed and wind. My hair whipped around, and in that moment, I remembered that life was supposed to be fun. But then something incredible happened. I started to relax. The hum of the engine beneath me, the freedom of the open road, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I watched the road stretch out beneath me, felt grounded in the land, and breathed in the rich scents of pine trees. The mist on my face from a nearby waterfall only deepened the feeling of connection to the world around me.

That first ride changed everything.

What began as a historical research trip evolved into something more personal. I found myself experiencing the healing power of Alberta's landscapes through motorcycle riding and tourism. There’s something deeply emotional and spiritual about the act of riding, especially when combined with the beauty and cultural richness of Canadian landscapes.

I started the trip with a historical lens, but riding on the back of that bike reminded me that history isn’t just something you read about or study. It’s something you feel. It’s about the land, the people, and the stories that can’t always be captured in a textbook or documentary. And here I was, experiencing a piece of that history on the back of a bike, cruising through some of Alberta’s most scenic regions and routes.