International Relations

After three nights at Meziadin Lake Provincial Park, we decided to move on... north to Alaska.

Since we were "boondocking" (dry camping), there was not much to do to break camp other than load the boats up on top of the RV.  That usually is uneventful, but that morning the little black flies were out in droves.  They looked like baby house flies and did not bite.  However, they all seemed to prefer to swarm around your face.

Our neighbor from Alberta, Don, had returned from an early fishing trip and was cleaning his fish at his picnic table.  He wore a net head covering to keep the flies away.  What a great idea.  It did not take David long to hunt down the head net that he bought years ago when we canoed the Allagash Waterway in Maine.

On the road again, we drove along the Skeena River most of the way.  We crossed many small bridges over the numerous creeks and rivers.  The highway was lined with dandelions, making a thick carpet of deep yellow on both sides of the road. Along the way we saw our first black bear, scrambling from the road into the underbrush.  Then about ten miles further along, we saw a dead bear on the side of the road.  BC road kill!  We saw three more bears that day, and know that there were more because we saw many piles of bear skat on the edge of the road.  We stopped to have lunch at Mehan Lake Provincial Rest Area. We are amazed at how clean and lovely the parks and the rest areas are in British Columbia. They have frequent pull-outs with bear-proof trash containers, and that may be why we see almost no litter along the highways.

David had heard that there was good fishing for rainbow trout at Kinaskan Lake Provincial Park, so we stopped there for the night.  After we found another beautiful lakeside camping spot we went for a walk.  We met a couple from Switzerland (Johann and Marlisa) and another couple from Germany (Derek and Kristin) who had met each other here in BC and were travelling together for a few days.  They were delightful.  Johann had an inflatable boat, so it was not long before the three men were out on the lake fishing.

 

The guys managed to catch two good sized rainbows and brought them in for dinner.  Derek had never cleaned a fish before, so David taught him how.  We let them have the fish because we were still eating the Dolly Varden from Meziadin!

Johann and David went out again the next morning and brought back four more fish.  Between the fishing and cleaning the fish, we chatted quite a bit with these new friends. Many Europeans come to BC to experience the wilderness they no longer have in their own countries.  When we were at Meziadin we met two German couples who have been vacationing here every summer for the past eleven years!

When we were ready to leave I went over to their campsite to say goodbye.  Johann and Marlisa were enjoying a typical Swiss breakfast of museli and bread and jam.  That reminded me of the time I lived in Bern, Switzerland, nearly fifty years ago!  Of course we got to talking again.  When Johann learned that I was a Unity Minister our conversation turned to spiritual matters.  He insisted that I read a book by Drunvalo Melchizedek, "The Movement of the Earth's Kundalini and the Rise of the Female Light... 1949-2013"

 (ISBN #978-8678-064-8).  Marlisa could not easily express herself in English, but she smiled at me and offered me a "high five" in recognition of female power.

That night we camped at Dease River Crossing.  There was only one other RV in the park...and those vacationers turned out to be German.  No surprise. This was been a wonderful day of international relations.

The Mighty Mosquito

Our Lazy Daze group left before noon the next day.  After saying goodbye to everyone, we eagerly took the boats off the top of the RV.  This was what we had been waiting for.  Meziadin Lake is beautiful, and we were lucky to get a campsite right on the shore with a small beach to launch our boats.  David had to rig up his fishing poles and ready his Pack Canoe, but I could not wait around for him.

As soon as Little Miss Sunshine hit the water I was gone. First I paddled out and around the little island just in front of the camping area.  I had not been kayaking for nealy a year, and wanted to get comfortable before I ventured out too far.  When I got to the far side of the island, I could not believe my eyes.  The mountain we could see from our campsite was only a small part of a beautiful mountain range that encircled the south end of the lake. 

For over two hours I paddled along the shore line looking for signs of wildlife or birds, and was surprised not to find any.  As I paddled further north, I could hear waterfalls and realized that they were caused by the snow melt on the opposite shore.  Since the water was calm and there was no sign of changing weather, I paddled out across the lake by myself, and explored the various falls. 

For years I have been following the teachings of Eknath Easwaran.  He taught what is known as

"Passage Meditation". Out there on the water, all alone, surrounded by the incredible beauty of creation, it occurred to me that I was practicing "paddle meditation".  Easwaran would not have called that meditation, but he surely would have smiled.  I did.

Mid-afternoon David returned with two big Dolly Varden Trout.  He was ecstatic.  He had actually caught five and lost two others. While I was taking pictures of his catch, our neighbor, Don, came over with his fish scale.  The bigger one was 24" long and weighed in at 4 pounds 11 ounces!  You can bet we feasted on fresh fish that night.

After a full day of fresh air and exercise, we decided to go to bed early that night, and were tucked in before ten o'clock.  We were just drifting off to sleep when we both heard the distinctive whine of a mosquito. I burrowed down into the bedcovers and tried to ignore it, but who can ignore the mighty mosquito?  It was impossible to go to sleep knowing that we were sitting ducks, so to speak.  Finally we took out our flashlights and started combing the crooks and cranies of the RV looking for it.  It had us on the run.  Amazing how such an itty-bitty creature can threaten 300 pounds of human flesh!

Eureka! We Have Found It!

We planned to get an early start today, after taking a brisk walk around the campground. However, when we returned to the RV we met our "neighbors" who were from England, Roger and Mary.  We ended up chatting with them until 11:30!  Seems like we can't get off before noon no matter how hard we try.

It was a beautiful day as we continued up the Bulkley Valley.  We stopped at the Visitors' Center at New Hazelton, which is at the confluence of the Skeena and the Bulkley rivers.  We had hoped they had Wi-Fi there, but they didn't.  What we did find was the daily Farmers' Market set up in the back parking lot. Local folks were there selling everything from honey to garden starts, bakery items, and hand made goods. I chatted with an older man who had healthy looking veggie starts for sale.  He confessed that he grows them in a greenhouse to get a jump start on the growning season.  Hazelton had a Hudson Bay Company Trading Post here in 1868, so selling goods here is not a new idea.

From there we followed the Skeena River as we made our way north onto The Cassiar Highway. We had not been driving long before David yelled, "Bear!" A black bear ran into the woods at the side of the road. He was too fast for a photo, but there was enough evidence to give David another trip to Tim Horton's.

There are several provincial parks along the Cassiar Highway, so we decided to check them out.  The first one we came to was Meziadin (mezy-AD-in) Lake Park.  We were thrilled as soon as we drove into the park and saw the lake surrounded by snowy peaks.  Eureka! This is what we have been looking for!

To make it even better, we had stumbled upon the other Lazy Dazers who had taken the ferry from Port Angeles.  Tony and Michelle had gone fishing that day and caught two large Dolly Vardens, so the gang had planned a spontaneous fish fry and potluck.  We were just in time to join them.

Over a wonderful dinner we told our friends that as much as we enjoyed their company, we had decided to slow down the pace and travel on our own. 

Slowing down seem to be a difficult thing to do in our culture.  To put aside schedules, timelines and calendars goes against the system that pushes us to do more, produce more and be more.

For years I have heard the adage "less is more", and finally I am starting to feel comfortable living that way.

Queen Victoria Day

When I woke up this morning I pushed open the window shade and looked out on sunlight filtering through the aspen tree next to our RV.  What a delightful way to start the day! It was only 48 degrees Fahrenheit, so David kindly turned on the electric space heater (a luxury when we have electricity) and I burrowed down in the covers for another half hour.

Today we changed directions.  At Prince George the Fraser River kept flowing north, and we turned west onto The Yellowhead Highway ( Hwy 16). We skirted the city and were quickly driving along a plauteau which felt as if we were on top of the world.  There were stands of young aspens and scattered farms with pastures full of blooming dandelions. There were also many marshes and what looked like moose ponds to me, but we never saw more than the caution signs for moose. 

When we arrived in the town of Vanderhoof we stopped at a Tim Horton's for a sandwich and a donut for David.  Vanderhoof's claim to fame is its migratory bird sanctuary on the Nechako River, where thousands of Canadian Geese stop by each year.  Since we had seen many caution signs for moose, but no moose, we made a bet on who would spot the first one.  The winner would get another Tim Horton's treat. You know what David would choose, and I'd take one of their trail mix cookies.

I took over the driving at Vanderhoof and drove miles through forested land where the bright spring green of the new aspen leaves was accenturated by the dark green evergreens.  As I drove into the Lake District we passed Fraser Lake.  It is a very big and beautiful with the surrounding trees reflected in the water.

Simon Fraser (1776-1862) is well remembered in these parts.  He was the first white person to decend the Fraser River in 1808. Now there is a river, a lake and a town named after him.  Soon after we passed the lake, David fell sound asleep while listening to his Ipod.  Not too far down the road I spotted a moose in a small pond right beside the road.  I yelled to David, but could not break through the tunes.  When he did wake up, I announced that we were on our way to Tim Horton's for my treat.  I won the first round!

Coming into Houston we caught our first glimpse of the Babine Mountains, snowcapped and towering majestically over the rolling forests.  Houston is located on the famous Bulkley River and is a sportsmen's paradise. Outfitters are readily available to give you the experience of a lifetime in fishing, hunting, canoeing, or snowmobiling, . 

At the Visitor's Center they practically guarantee a big catch! Here is a fisherman with the eternal illusion of catching a record fish!

                                                                         

We drove up the Bulkley River Valley, and as we drove along more and more snowy peaks appeared in front of us.  Many peaks were shrouded by clouds, but we saw enough to realize how breathtaking this valley would be with clear skies and sunshine. By the time we reached Smithers, we were in the shadow of the mountains and could see the ski trails on Hudson Bay Mountain. This is a popular ski area from November until April. However, with an average January temperature of 14 degrees, I will definitely never check it out. Smithers is the largest town in the Bulkley Valley.  We stayed one night at the municipal park that was right beside the river.

 

This had been an effortless day of driving.  The roads were excellent and there was very little traffic.  At one point we were listening to NPR and someone said, "Don't put off 'til tomorrow anything you can celebrate today."  Well, this was Queen Victoria Day, we were at the end of a beautiful day in what used to be New Caladonia, and I had won the moose bet, so why not celebrate?  We opened a bottle of "Two Buck Chuck" from Trader Joe's and toasted ....  to Life! 

The Cariboo Waggon Road

When we left the Clinton Pines RV park, we didn't get too far. We drove into the little town of Clinton.  Clinton has a population of only 740 people, but has preserved the historical buildings and is proud to be known as "The Gateway to the Caraboo".

The museum building was built in 1892 as a school and later used as the courthouse.  Originally the town was the site of the 47 Mile Roadhouse, a gold rush settlement on the Cariboo Waggon Road from Lillooet. My first question to the volunteer in the museum was, "Where is Cariboo?" I had scoured the maps but had not been able to locate any town or mountain by that name. Come to find out, it is the name of the regional district in British Columbia, just west of the Rocky Mountain Range, where gold was discovered. 

That afternoon we stopped in the town of Quesnel (pronounced kwe-NEL).  The city is located at the confluence of the Fraser and the Quesnel rivers.  It began as a supply town for miners during the Cariboo Gold Rush in the 1860's.

We walked all over town, and saw many plaques commenorating the early pioneers of the town, many of whom were Chinese.

Quesnel has 23 handpainted fire hydrants.  A local artist researched the city's history and painted some of its characters to help tell its story.  The "little people" are now the focus of a charming walking tour in the heart of downtown.  This blacksmith represents Kong Sing .  After an accident left him in a wheelchair, he turned his blacksmithing skills to knife making.  He became renowned for his quality work, and some of his knives have been used for 70 years!

Our walk eventually ended up at the Billy Barker Casino. It turns out Barker was quite the citizen in these parts, and he is remembered at Barkerville, a town about an hour away that reenacts the history of the colorful goldrush days. David and I often like to experience new casinos enroute with a limit of $10.00 gambling money.  David had only a $1.00 bill in his pocket, but we decided to try our luck anyway. He put the bill into what looked like a lucky slot machine.  Rejection! After three tries he called an attendant over and discovered that it was programmed to accept only Canadian money.  So he went over to the cashier and returned with a brassy looking coin of $1.00 Canadian, called a "loonie".  Back at the slot machine he tried unsuccessfully three more times and then called the attendant again.  She looked at him as if he was a complete idiot.  "Well of course it doesn't work, that machine takes a minimum of $5.00."  So much for our first adventure in a Canadian casino.  No big winnings here, but now David has his first Canadian lucky loonie.

Following the gold rush trail makes us realize that we have "struck it rich".  Everyday is full.  Life is fun, and we are rich, indeed!

Trans Canada Highway 1 East

Our first campsite on Canadian soil was not far from the border crossing at Sumas.  We were relieved because we had made it through customs with our four bottles of wine, a six pack of beer and all our fruits and veggies. The Milepost had an advertisement for The Cottonwood Meadows RV Country Club in Chilliwack, BC. It sounded inviting and the promise of "the nicest bathrooms" won us over.  It turned out that, for us, the bathrooms were the best feature of the park.  For $36 CDN dollars for full hookups, we parked in a tight space surrounded by bushes and clouds of mosquitos.  We fell asleep to the drone of the traffic on Trans Canada 1.

As soon as we left the campground we realized that we were in beautiful country.  We travelled up the Fraser River Valley on the way to Hope, BC.  The scenery was breathtaking!  In every direction we were surrounded by snowy peaks.  This is prime farm country with many farms and the ever-present aroma of manure.  We had a wide sky with puffy clouds and in and out sun all morning.  

 

As we drove along I was madly taking pictures out the window.  Many times I would catch a breathtaking view and before I could snap a picture it would be gone.  Those "zen" views never got captured, but many others did.

When we first saw the Fraser River outside of Hope, we knew we were officially on the "Gold Rush Trail". The prospectors must have gone crazy when they saw these mountains! For a minute, David thought he might have found a way to finance this trip. 

The Fraser gold rush started in 1858.  The Milepost reports, "Most of the miners hailed from California gold rushes and caused an immigration influx that the non-sovereign territory could not handle.  Recognizing the problem, the territory of New Calidonia was quickly renamed The Province of British Columbia by Queen Victoria, and it became a crown colony.  This enabled officials to properly record and monitor the onslaught of immigrants."

The Fraser Valley becomes the Fraser Canyon north of Hope.  It is very narrow and deep and the scenery is dramatic.  The road is built high above the river.  In places tunnels had to be cut through the mountains.  These tunnels were cut in 1960-64.  Just before the Yale Tunnel we pulled over to take photographs. From that point I could see six waterfalls tumbling down the steep mountainsides. 

The railway below us was first built in 1881 and the trains are still using them.

We stopped for a picnic lunch at a rest area just outside the little town of Lytton.  Lytton is located at the confluence of the Thompson and the Fraser Rivers.  Historically the sand bars at Lytton yielded alot of gold, but now the area is better known for its river raft trips. 

From Lytton the Fraser River flows west, and we followed the Thompson river in an easterly direction.  As we went over the mountain passes the vegetation changed.The thick evergreen forest and snowy peaks were replaced by thin stands of trees and dry rocky cliffs. 

Along the highway there were caution signs for deer, elk, and big horn sheep, but we never saw any.  My only exciting spotting was an eagle flying over the Thompson River.  The road was above the river at that point, so it seemed as if we were travelling side by side.  We had experienced dramatic changes in the landscape today, and were experiencing a bit of sensory overload.  However, my heart was soaring like that eagle as we pulled into The Clinton Pines RV Park at the end of the day.

First Day on the Road

Rolling north from Eugene it felt good being back on the road. We were excited and curious about what lies ahead on our adventure to Alaska. We were reminded that RV-ing invites inquiry. Suddenly the world is new and you are forced to live in the moment. We also realized that this lifestyle takes the "shoulds" out of everyday life, and frees you up to be more childlike.

At the beginning of the trip we went to a Northwest Lazy Daze Rally just outside of Port Angeles, WA. There were 30 rigs there and we spent four great days together. After the rally eight of us headed out to Alaska. Five couples took the fourteen hour ferry ride to Prince Rupert. Three of us opted to drive through southern British Columbia and meet up with the others later. That's our rig, second on the left with the yellow kayaks on top.

We did take a short ferry ride from Port Townsend, WA to Whidbey Island.  That was an exciting way to begin the day's journey.  We went from there straight to the Canadian border, eager to be officially on our way.

Along the way I saw a sign that said, "If you are not living on the edge, you are taking up too much space".

In our little 200 square foot "moving house" we don't think we are taking up too much space.  And, this lifestyle keeps us forever on the edge.  I give it two thumbs up!