Yukon Ho!

June 17, 2006

Biking time: 9AM to 1:30pm
End: Stewart/Hyder
Distance: 62km
Our night in the cabin seemed to be mouse-free and bug-free, and was definitely rain-free. We woke up early so that we could have breakfast and ride to Stewart before everything in town was closed. Breakfast was good (good enough to get us to stewart without a lunch break), and the road was amazing. It started out a bit cold, grey and hilly, which was not too bad except for the thought of having to backtrack back out the next day. After about 10km, it started getting a bit more mountainous and the climbs got higher. The highway (37A) is literally squeezed between a mountain and a river for much of the route, and it goes right past Bear Glacier and the lake into which it drops its meltwater (and icebergs). By the time we reached the glacier, we had to put on our neoprene gloves and waterproof booties because the cold wet downhill riding was freezing us to death. Fortunately for today’s ride, most of the second half is a gradual downhill since Meziadin is at about 300m elevation and Stewart is a port town at sea level. After some great descents, we decided that we really didn’t want to backtrack on our bikes, so we’d try to hitch a ride with an empty truck or an RV on the way back out on Sunday. WIth that in the back of our minds, we were able to enjoy every inch of downhill sweetness.

As we rolled into Stewart, most of the buildings were shanty-like, and we were really worried about getting slapped with another depressing abandoned logging town. Luckily the downtown was in full operation with several restaurants and hotels, as well as a grocery store and a hardware store. Our first stop was at Silverado’s Cafe for an amazing pizza lunch (chicken, veggies and a special garlic based sauce). Our server was really nice, and another server overheard us talking about bikes and started going crazy over biking with us. She is a hardcore road cyclist who moved to Stewart with her husband and sold off the cars because the town is mostly one road with a few surrounding residential streets. She loved us to death, and asked the owner if we could store our bags there so that we could ride our bikes unladen into Alaska. So our next stop was Hyder, AK which is 2km out of stewart and directly across the Alaska border. I had expected Hyder to be bigger and busier than Stewart because it was an american town, but it was really nothing but a ghost town. With a population of 60 to 100 people (depending who you ask), it had nothing more than a few bars and a few gift shops (As well as some camping/lodging facilities). They didn’t even have a bank, so all of their banking and shopping is done in Stewart. All of the stores and prices are in Canadian dollars. What’s funny is the highway leading through Stewart to Hyder is the only land access to the town. The only other way in and out is by float plane (which the US postal office there uses). So when you cross into Hyder, there is no US border guard. WHen you cross back however, there is a canadian guard, and despite having nothing but the clothes on our backs and two bikes, we were asked for our ID and given the standard (though nonchalant) grill. We did notice one hunting and ammo store in Hyder, so perhaps there is a worry about Canadians crossing over to buy guns.

After crossing back over, we went on a short mission to check out the schoolyard where we’d hoped to camp in a gazebo we saw from the road. After discovering that the gazebo was some sort of storage house for oil tanks, we figured we could just use the yard. On our way back downtown we passed a couple out gardening, and instead asked if we could borrow a piece of their yard. They told us it would be fine (and that was the extent of our conversation with them). So we went and bought groceries, retrieved our stuff, and set up the tent before heading for dinner (and drinks… our first chance to P-A-R-T-Y cause we got to). Our friends at Silverado’s even let us leave our food inside their restaurant so that we wouldn’t attract bears to our neigbourly sleeping space.

Dinner consisted of salad and appetizers at Bitter Creek Cafe, which was an amazing place with all sorts of antiques in the dining room (including a fully functional 1930 Pontiac which they used to take out for parades). They even made their own chocolate there. Dinner prices were kind of high, which explains our food choices. All of the beer was under $5 which was not too bad considering the remoteness of the town. It was starting to rain as we crawled into the tent, but it’s cozy in there so it didn’t matter at all. I’d have to say that Stewart (And the road leading to it) is worth the 60km side trip if you ever happen to be up this way.

Click here for today’s pictures 

June 16, 2006

Biking time: 12pm to 5:30pm
End: Meziadin Junction
Distance: 75km
After waking up alive, we counted our blessings (mainly the blessings that included no attacks by any bears, either real or imagined) and made breakfast among clouds of mosquitos. Fried eggs with no butter along with oatmeal was sufficient but by no means deluxe. Despite having only a bit of water, we decided to make coffee, figuring we’d hit a creek or a well stocked RV before too long. Our photocopied Stewart-Cassiar guide sheet (courtesy of the Prince Rupert tourist office) told us that there was a general store 58km away at Meziadin Lake, so we hoped to get some groceries before hitting Meziadin Junction for camping. The ride started with me freaking out about losing my wallet, then searching my handlebar bag for it and dropping the camera on the highway. Turns out the wallet was in the rolled up tent. False alarm. Then 10 km down the road, I went to take a picture and found the shutter release button was missing. I guess I should have looked at the camera before assuming it was OK. I freaked out again because I hate when I am an idiot, but I can still take pictures with a paperclip, and hopefully when we get to a real town I can call Canon about getting a replacement button sometime. So my impromptu shots taken while underway won’t happen any more, but if there are any great scenes, I’ll stop and shoot. It’s probably better than I don’t use the camera while riding down the shoulder of the highway anyways.

A couple of hours into the ride, we saw a half decent creek, so we filtered some water out of it and had lunch at the next rest area. This highway is scattered with forestry and fisheries roads that lead off into the woods, but very few actual rest stops. This one was actually labelled as a rest stop but it turned out to be nothing more than a bear proof garbage can. We stopped anyway and had a delicious reconstituted Pad Thai packet in the gravel at the garbage turnoff.

Less than an hour later, we arrived at Meziadin Lake, which turned out to be an old logging camp with a few lived-in houses and a lot of abandoned trailers. The general store was CLOSED with no signs of being open at any recent time. So I wiped my ass with their front steps and we carried on with dreams of restaurant bliss at Meziadin Junction.

Though it was only 17km away, it felt a lot further because we were angry at Meziadin Lake, hungry for a real meal, and the last 10km were pretty hilly (no mountain passes, but hills big enough to slow us down). There must be a rule in Northern BC that says that every town listed on a map should be surrounded by hills.

Leading into the junction (on an uphill) we spotted another black bear. It was definitely bigger than the one we saw yesterday, but still fairly uninterested in us in comparison to its meal of roots. The last 400 metres to the intersection was yet another (of many) ‘magnetic hill’ which looked downhill but was most definitely uphill. As we turned into the parking lot, we were greeted by another deserted looking collection of shacks, with a cafe that appeared very closed, and a gas bar which was no more than a one-person hut. The gas bar was open but no one was around. As I looked in the window, a lady came running from the cafe and we quickly discovered that it was indeed open. She seemed to be in charge of the gas bar, and preferred to hang out in the cafe until the customers arived (understandably so). I guess the cafe owners were trying to save electricity costs by keeping their Open sign unlit. The dumpy restaurant offered nothing more than standard fried junk, so we each had the cheapest meal offered (burger and fries). The woman  running the show was a bit of a bitch (not the gas bar lady). The first thing she did when we came in was snap at us due to her being annoyed by our bear bells (did I mention we’d passed a bear less than half a kilometre from the restaurant?) because she was apparently trying to listen in on a CB radio to hear about an accident down the road. So sorry to interrupt your source of gossip. To complement her welcoming atitude, the resataurant had been filled with such friendly signs as: “Do not touch the TV”, “Our menu has two items: take it or leave it”, “We cannot fill your water bottles”, “We cannot microwave your food” and in the girl’s washroom, “Do not flush feminine products down the toilet because it clogs our system and it’s not getting emptied for 3 months and we know who you are”. As an added bonus, coffee was 50 cents more expensive if you wanted to take it in a crappy styrofoam cup instead of in a mug. The bugers were OK, and the fries were too floppy for my taste. Luckily, we twisted her arm into giving us a side of relish for our plain burgers - a luxury usually reserved for those ordering the deluxe model.

Feeling quite depressed by the entire junction, I went to scout out the abandoned visitor’s centre across the road. The cheerful gas attendant had told us earlier that she’d recommended people to camp behind it if they want to avoid paying for a provincial park. The building was an awesome log cabin that had unfortunately been boarded up because Stewart (the town) didn’t want to pay for visitor’s centre staff anymore. Behind the cabin was another touring bike that had been secretly stowed, as well as an outhouse that even had a bit of TP inside. Feeling a bit naughty, I thought it might be a lot better to sleep in the cabin than behind it, so I took a walk around the entire thing and found one non boarded window that had no locking mechanism at all. Bonus! So I went back across the road and asked the gas lady if we could keep our food bags in her hut overnight while we camped behind the cabin (we promised to eat breakfast there in the morning… better to spend money on breakfast than on a 4 by 7 rectangle of tent space at the Provincial Park). She gave us the okay, and also said that the other bike probably belonged to a tourist who hitchhiked into Stewart and left it there for a day or two. Not a bad idea.

Just as we finished climbing in the cabin window, it started to rain. Lucky us, having a cabin all to ourselves in the first evening rainstorm of the trip. The cabin was awesome. It had two levels, plus a two level porch. The loft level was divided in two, with a creepy old bedroom in one  half and a bunch of junk in the other. There was a walkway from the loft to the front of the cabin where a door opened to the second level porch. The main floor had a tiny kitchen area (everything was disconnected) and a main room which still had a bunch of tourist info everywhere. There was no wiring, and only two lights which appeared to be new-old-school gas lights. The fridge appeared to have run off of an extension cord fed through a hole in the floor. We decided to put the tent on the floor to save us from the lingering mosquitos that followed us in as well as any mice that might like to live here (there was some poop on the floor). We also helped ourselves to the leftover tourist information, including a few cool postcards. As an added bonus, Amy found an older (2002) copy of the Mileposts book that the German was crazy about, so we figured we might as well take that too. No one will miss it, and the majority of information will still be valid. Tomorrow we will go into Stewart for the night (a 65km dead end sidetrip).On Sunday we’ll ride back out and hopefully sleep here again. Score!

 Click here for today’s pictures

June 15, 2006

Biking time: 10pm to 6pm
End: Bonus Lake
Distance: 79km
As we were packing up this morning, one of the pigs (Fatty) started munching on a pannier cover. Sarah was right when she said they eat “everything”. We wrestled it out of its snout and packed up to leave, hoping for coffee and water in the bustling town of Kitwanga. All they had there however was a hardware store, so we pressed on, following a warning sign for “next services 14 and 145 km”. 14km into the trip, sure enough, was a sign leading to Gitanyow Gas Bar, which was “two minutes from the highway” (10 by bike). There was not much there, but they did have a dozen eggs for us to buy as well as the standard gas bar snacks and some pretty good coffee. So we ate some snacks and I went outside to start cooking some eggs on our stove when I realized that I FORGOT OUR FUEL CANISTER at the gas station last night. Great. Problem is, it’s not just a standard gas can, it’s the kinda thing that you can possibly buy in a place like Terrace, or a place like Whitehorse, but nowhere in between. So, looking forward to a 35km round trip on my bike back to the gas station, I gave them a call to be sure they had it. Luckily they did, and even luckily-er, there was an Elder at the store who was on his way to Gitanyow and he brought it to us. Thanks so much! WHen he showed up, we realized it was an older guy in a pickup truck who we’d waved to on our way into Gitanyow. It pays to wave to everyone I guess.

While we had been waiting for him among the collectin of totem poles, we spoke with the cashier at the store and she told us about an unmanaged campsite by a lake just 4km up the road. So we headed there for lunch, and were able to take a quick (cold) dip and clean some clothes. IT was a cool little place, but it was also a long way off the highway on a dirt road. Luckily almost all of the dirt roads loop back to the highway, so  neither of our stops (Gitanyow and the lakefront lunch) required any backtracking. I hate backtracking.

We pushed on, knowing that we wouldn’t see any more civilization today (Meziadin Junction is 156km along the highway), so we hoped we’d at least finnd a rest area at the halfway point to Meziadin (called Cranberry junction). Turns out there was nothing at Cranberry except a deep valley that we had to ride out of and a dirt road off to the side. As an added bonus, we passed a b lack bear on the side of the road just before the junction, so we were really excited about sleeping near his feeding grounds. He was pretty harmless though, he just watched as we rode by. I sang him a PLaskett song to keep him chilled.

Wondering where the hell we were going to stop, we kept climbing for what seemed to be forever. Then in the distance we saw a road coming off the highway. I expected it was a logging road, so we figured we could just sleep alongside it. It turned out to be even better. A small rest area was built by BC Forestry (Bonus Lake Recreation Area), complete with an outhouse, a few picnic tables and a floating dock out onto a marshy lake.

We set up the tent in order to escape the swarms of mosquitos, and decided to do a bit of reading and writing before dinner. Suddenly, we b oth heard a growling sound and froze. We kinda freaked out. THen there was a bunch of rustling in the bushes so we extra freaked out. I ran for the bear spray and we hurriedly locked the food in the outhouse ( so much easier than putting it in a tree). We even moved the tent further from the trees so that we could monitor the situation. A few more rustles were all that we heard, plus the excrutiatingly loud rumbling of our hungry stomachs. Each time one of us rumbled, the other thought it was a bear coming. I’m pretty sure that the initial growl that set it all off was one of us, not an animal. We tried to laugh it off a bit, and we made dinner without any attacks. We ate on the dock where there were slightly fewer mosquitos, and we got to watch a few muskrats swim around and go fishing. By the sid eof the water there was a flurry of activity in the bushes (squirrels, frogs and birds), and after being surprised by a squirrel near the outhouse, we decided that all of the rustling we’d heard was caused by a bunch of critters much smaller than bears.

Part of the freak out, I’m sure, was that an RV driver told us he’d seen a bear a few miles back on the road. We had flagged him down before dinner to ask for some water (it’s so much easier than filtering it), and he told us about the bear as he filled our bottles. I think in the back of our minds we had stopped practically on top of a bear’s den. Luckily we were full of food and tired enough that we fell fast asleep without any more bear related fears. Tomorrow we will head for Meziadin (75km) and sleep a bit closer to civilization.

Click here for today’s pictures

June 14, 2006

Biking time: 1pm to 8pm
End: Kitwanga
Distance: 100km
The great thing about camping in a town is the ability to go for breakfast before riding. Terrace fully delivered by offerinng us a Dennys which has perhaps the biggest breakfast selection of all time. While not exactly cheap, it’s hard to say no to eggs and coffee when you know you’re about to be pedaling for the next 8 hours. After breakfast, we stopped at one of the two bike shops in town in order to get Amy’s headset looked at. The place was called “Out Spoke’n” which is perhaps the best bike shop name ever. THe only tool I didn’t bring (because of its size) was a headset wrench, so we were lucky to be in a town with a bike shop. This would be the last one til Whitehorse. They took the headset apart and found that one of the bearing races was rusted and disintegrating. I suspect that it was due to the bike being on the back of the van in the torrential downpour in Winnipeg, because it had not been ridden a whole lot before our trip, and it has had fenders on it since the first week Amy owned it, so there are few other ways that water could have gotten in there. They only charged $10 for the service (including replacement bearings), and they were the nicest bike store owners in town (literally). They told us about all of the bike shop politics: A husband and wife run Out Spoke’n (but it’s mostly the wife Lucy’s business). Lucy used to work at the other bike shop, and always wanted to own one, so when the other shop went up for sale she was going to buy it. THe owner was asking way too much however, so she decided to wait it out and start fresh after he left (figuring no one would buy the business at that price). In the meantime, the bike shop in Kitimat had closed, so Terrace was the only bike shop destination in the area. Two days before the owner was set to leave, a buisness-oriented guy swooped in and bought up the shop. So now Lucy’s new store is  “up against” the new guy’s old store. The new guy doesn’t care about bikes or bikers. The new guy sounds like a dick. Meanwhile, the bike suppliers won’t sell to two bike shops in one town, so each shop only carries some b rands of bikes and accessories. It sounds messy. Hopefully the new guy goes out of business. Here’s why: One time a pair of touring cyclists went to his store for a small part (a $13 derailler hanger) but the guy didn[’t have one because he was not a Trek dealer, and it was a specific part. So he told them he’d have one shipped in from Vancouver or some other BS. So the pair had to stay in Terrace for four days waiting, and eventually the guy told them that he didn’t think he could get it for a long time. At that point, a repair guy whispered to them that they should go to Out Spoke’n because they are a Trek dealer. I guess the repair guy got in trouble from the owner for sending them there. THe tourers, u nderstandably pissed off for being needlessly grounded for so long, headed straight to Out Spoke’n, and even though they didn’t have the part in stock, they were sent on their merry way within 10 minutes because the owner took the part from a bike in stock and ordered himself a replacement for later. See how nice they are there compared to “the other guy”? ANyway, we got a few stickers and said goodbye. Hopefully we canm stop in there again sommetime.

After the bike shop, we stopped at the only outdoors store in town, and not only did they have backpackers-weight thermarests, they also had these sweet inflatable mats made by Exped which were half the price of the thermarests, twice the inflated thickness, and even lighter and smaller when packed. THe only things they don’t offer are the self inflatability and the insulation from the cold. Since we weren’t worried about that (it takes less than 20 breaths to fill one as tested by me in the store), we went ahead and got two. THe owner even offered to hold on to our old pad for us so we didn’t have to ship it home. She also laughed heartily at our trying to ride bikes wit hthat old heavy one. I had to take a picture of the new ones beside the old because it’[s really unbelieveable. So from now on, thermarest is not the word… exped is.

So we finally started riding (past lunchtime already). Just outside of town we passed the junctio nleading to Usk, a small town across the river from the highway. We turned off the road and passed a handful of small houses and hobby farms on the way to the ferry dock. The ferry was closed for service, but it was a cool mechanism that you can hopefully understand from the pictures. There was a cable leading across the river and the ferry was tethered to it. The hulls of the ferry actually had their pointy bits facing sideways into the river’s swift current. So the ferry ran across the river, being led by a cable, the whole time appearing as if it was facing upriver. It’s hard to describe but it was very interesting to see. In addition to the ferry they had a raised cable car crossing. It was amazing that they  had built all this up for such a tiny village across the way. According to the people in Terrace, there is nothing across the river there except for a few houses. I kinda want to live there… We didn’t cross because we didn’t want to annoy the cable car operator. MAybe next time through we can become friends witgh a resident and stay over there so we have a reason to go.

Further along, we stopped at a great little rest area for lunch, and decided we’d push on all the way to the Stewart-Cassiar highway junction where we had heard there was a gas station with decent food prices. The rest of the ride was great, and again when the wind blew it was at our backs. I don’t really want to jinx it, but we haven’t had any really bad headwinds since the first day back in Sayward. We made it to the station for some dinner and a couple of phone calls from the tableside phone, then pushed into Kitwanga in search of a free tenting spot. Just as we were about to hit a hill (the worst road feature at the end of a 100km day), we saw a bunch of people planting some seeds near the road at a small pig farm. We asked if we could tent on their lawn and the owner, Art gave us the go-ahead. His niece Sarah was really interested in helping set up the tent, and she took us to all the pig pens and told us all of the pigs’ names, and who was related to whom. Their biggest pig Boris was the size of a small cow, and when they fed his lady pig, tey had to poke him with a sharp stick to keep him from eating her food. We fell asleep tonight to the sound of snorting pigs and trucks passing on the highway.

Click here for today’s pictures 

June 13, 2006

Biking time: 9:30am to 7pm
End: Terrace
Distance: 141km
It was cold and grey when we woke up, so we donned our jackets and hit the road. First, I took our box of extra junk we’d sorted out over the last few days and mailed it to Cor (Amy’s sister in Victoria). It weighed about 18 pounds… enough weight to significantly improve our climbing ability (hopefully). All that’s left is to get rid of that overweight sleeping pad. Our first (very important) stop was Tim Horton’s, where we enjoyed the standard coffee, bael and timbit breakfast. I miss the Aberdeen Tim’s. Rachel, if you read this, can you give our link to the employees over there? Thanks!

Geared up for a chilly climb over a 600 metre mountain pass outside of town (as described by the tourism office), we headed east toward Terrace. Our goal was a provincial park about 100 km along the way. The mountain pass turned out to be 160 metres, and once we easily conquered that, it was smooth (and fast) sailing for the next hundred kilometres or so. The ride was amazing… with the Skeena River to our right almost the entire way, the road was flat and smooth, and when the wind blew it was almost always at our backs. 50km into the ride we stopped for lunc hat a rest area where a girl travelling West told us to look out for a great Indian restaurant on the close edge of Terrace. Figuring we were pro stars, we decided then and there we’d ride the entire way and get ther ein time for dinner. At about the 100km mark, we were dying for a drink so we pulled into an adventure resort type of place off the highway, only to find that their Cafe was closed Tuesdays (but otherwise open 9-7). Luckily Amy stumbled upon the owner when she was looking for a tap outside. He brought us in and let us fill all of our bottles from his water cooler. Turns out he runs the place for corporate events and fisherman looking for a place near the skeena to stay. Sad we coldn’t get coffee, but happy we had water, we carried on. By that time it was getting a bit later in the afternon, and the sun started hitting us straight on our backs. Everythig went well until about 120km into the day, when we realized that they had put a bunch of stupid hills on the West side of Terrace. We reluctantly climbed them, fuelled by the desire for curry. At the top of one of the last hills, Amy’s headset (the steering part) started making noises and sbhe was unable to turn her handlebars. Fearing the worst, I got angry at everyone who might be respomnsible (Fuji Bikes, Bikes on Wheels, Shimano, Jesus, etc), but there was no time for anger cause papa’s gotta eat! After we both swore that we wouldn’t climb even one more hill, we coasted down and around a bend and a cross a river and hit the first building in town: Haryana’s restaurant. Take that, Terrace! After an excruciatingly long wait (an hour), we got our food and devoured it in minutes. It was really good too, especially the naan. I’m a little suspicious though… perhaps they make you wait an hour so that even if they brought out a pile of dog crap you’d be hungry enough to love it. In reality, we’re pretty sure each order is made from scratch by hand, so the wait is worth it. Anyway, after dinner we asked if it would be okay to tent in their side yard (which looked like it was actually a campground that is no longer officially in service). We got the go-ahead, and as an added bonus the restaurant bathrooms were accessible from the outside AND equipped with showers. Thanks Terrace!

Click here for today’s pictures

June 12, 2006

Biking time: None
End: Prince Rupert
Distance: None
Because we are procrastinators at heart, we decided to hang around Prince Rupert for the day and start the biking again on Tuesday. In the morning we met a German guy who was probably in his late forties and also planning to bike to Dawson City. He was actually biking through Dawson into Alaska (on what is called the “Top of the World” highway). We spoke with him for a while, and bumped into him several times throughout the day as he searched for a “Guideposts” (or was it “Mileposts”) book which describes every road in Northwestern N.A. in excruciating detail. We wondered if we’d see him on the road, but he told us he rides slowly, and additionally he was planning to stay until Wednesday to watch World Cup soccer. After some intense morning nerding (I found the software I needed to dump our GPS track history to the “camping computer” [neenerneet]), we headed out for breakfast. We quickly discovered that the majority of restaurants in town were of the “Chinese and Canadian food” variety, so we picked one that advertised breakfast and headed in. After a great feedin’, we left and around the corner we hit a Tim Hortons… the first in ages. Vowing to stop there before riding out on Tuesday, we continued through the downtown on the hunt for a thermarest upgrade. There was only one “outdoors store” in town, and it was more of a hockey/bike/camping/sporting goods/jersey store, so they didn’t have what we needed. Maybe in Terrace. After that, we stumbled upon the “Sunken Gardens” behind city hall, and wandered through them to find a tunnel that led directly to the back door of the Hostel. Convenient! At the tourist centre, we got some decent information for once. They had a photocopied map of the Stewart Cassiar highway showing all of the camping areas and towns we’d hit along the way (there aren’t many). They also had the Guideposts book that the German was looking for, but it was $35, and far too heavy to bring biking. We went back to the hostel and asked the owner if she’d mind if we camped on her lawn since it was too late to set out on the bikes. We told her we just needed to sleep and we’d be up and away in the morning with  no hassles. Boy did she suck. She DID eventually agree to let us camp, but it was like pulling teeth to even get an answer out of her. Most people we’ve met have been very excited about our trip, and most have been kind and generous as well. I don’t know what this girl was worried about, but she started coing up with reasons why it was a bad idea (she’d planed fresh grass in some spots, where would we go to the bathroom, etc). She wouldn’t just come out with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ unless she drilled us first. It would have been one thing if we’d just come off the street asking for handouts, but we had just spent $50 on a room there, which we arrived to at 1am and had to leave at 1030am. She finally said we could put the tent on the highest ‘terrace’ of her glass and gravel filled side lot. Thanks, I guess. We then made the mistake of asking her where we might get a reasonably priced meal and a beer. Ever the ambassador to the town, she told us that it was expensive everywhere. Thanks for the tip. In the end she told us to try the Ocean View restaurant because their portions were generous. We did go there for dinner and it was actually quite good and not too expensive. The staff was great; I liked it when they joked around and teased the regulars. More people should make jokes (and while we are on the subject, even more people should GET jokes). Outside the restaurant we got to chill for a few minutes with a dog names (no kidding) Shithead (see the photo of his tag if you don’t believe me). We then rode to the boardwalk where Amy got gelato, and I chatted up the ice cream shop owner’s husband for a while about weather, real estate, school districs and other important topics. We probably could have talked ourselves into a free campsite on their lawn, but we figured we might as well take advantage of the weirdo while we had the chance. So we went back to the gravel pit beside the hostel, took a few leaks on her lawn and called it a night.

Click here for today’s pictures

June 11, 2006

Biking time: None
End: Prince Rupert
Distance: None
Ferry day started at 4AM because we had to check in around 4:30 for a 5AM Boarding call. Luckily they had coffee available immediately, and we were first in line due to us boarding on foot (before all of the cars). It was extremely foggy when we left, so there wasn’t much to see, but while Amy napped in the seat, I rocked out to Joel Plaskett up front while I watched the employees take turns on fog lookout detail. I guess they aren’t taking any chances on losing a second ferry. The “Inside Passage” route, not surprisingly, takes a course mostly through a channel up the coast, so the open water is only at the very Southern and very Northern ends of the ride. The fog stayed thick until we hot the passage, at which point it lifted completely, and most of the day was spend in blazing sunshine. The scenery was fantastic, and the ride was really good except for its length. We were on the ferry from 4:30 til after midnight… a long day with no bed. We ended up spending the last couple of hours trying to sleep on the floor in the TV room where they had the lights off. When we weren’t lounging on the deck, we spent most of the time trying to b reak the day up by eating (snacks, meals, coffee… whatever we could find). They did have free portable DVD player rentals, so we watched two Wil Farrel movies, both of which were OK but not fantastic (Bewitcheed is a bit better than Kicking and Screaming). Other than that there is not a lot to say about the ferry, other than to let some of the pictures do the talking. They probably won’t do justice to the actual scenery though.

When we got to Prince Rupert the fog had returned, and we had a chilly, damp bike ride to the hostel (2-3km through town). The town had an awesome air to it in the foggy darkness, with a few house lights seen up on hillsides and a perfectly sized downtown area which we hoped to explore in the morning. The hostel we stayed at was built in an awesome old house-styled building (it looked like it was originally a small inn), and the beds were more like hotel beds than standard hostel cots. There was o ne free computer for us laptop-less saps, and free wireless for the rich and nerdly. So all in all the place was great, but the front desk girl (who also owns the place and is the sole employee save for one cleaning staff member who happened to be off) was a bit of a weirdo. Even when I called to make a reservation she acted very strange (like it was a chore to answer questions), and she seemed to kind of hate her job and hate people in general (especially tourists). None of that mattered though since we were ready to put an end to the 22 hour day we’d just endured. GLORIOUS SLEEP!

Click here for today’s pictures

June 10, 2006

Biking time: 9:30AM to 12:00PM
End: 50′43.322N, 127′27.419W, 4M
Distance: 50KM
Today started with hot showers at the scout’s hall and a big breakfast at another cafe in town. A little full and a little tired, we left for our final island destination, starting with a huge climb out of town (and a wave to our cowboy buddy from yesterday). We sure made a lot of friends in a short amount of time here. Maybe we’ll visit again. The road to Port Hardy was great. Mostly new pavement and no rumble strips to force us into the lane or onto the shoulder. The hills remained small and rolling, and we were armed with the knowledge that every metre we climbed was a metre of coasting later since Port Hardy pretty much has to be at sea level. We pulled into town ahead of schedule (mostly because it was 5km closer than the signs led us to believe). We had hoped to find a bustling metropolis (because we needed some supplies) but instead found a pretty dumpy small town. We were able to stock up on a few things from a local bike store, and we got some basic camping things from the hardware store, but there was nowhere to buy upgraded thermarests (I desperately want our oversized overweight pad off of my rear rack). Hopefully Prince Rupert will have what we need. We tried to get some info from the front desk of the Backpacker’s Hostel, but the place was deserted. It was like the Langoliers… nobody in sight, doors left ajar… creepily quiet. After sitting around and snooping through their stuff for 20 minutes, we gave up and grabbed some fish and chips at the Fish Fry Fuck Up (not it’s real name, but a deserved nickname since it took a half hour to make a burger and a piece of fish, and we were served our dishes 5 minutes apart, which at our rate of eating meant that Amy was done her entire plate before I even tracked mine down. In fact, I think they forgot to make mine because we ended up getting it from another table who had pity on us and decided they would wait for the next fish to come out of the fryer). We then hit up the local coffee shop, home of the biggest bitch in town (apparently her attitude was deemed acceptible enough that she was hired as a barista here). Finally we went to the post office to mail my heavy box of extra crap home, only to find they are closed all day Saturday. Thanks for nothing Port Hardy! As an added bonus, it was a 10km ride BACK IN THE DIRECTION WE CAME in order to get to the ferry terminal. But at least we made it. Now we are sitting at a rest stop next to the terminal, under a “no camping” sign beside which we plan to pitch our tent for the night. We have to be at the ferry terminal at 4:30 tomorrow. Yes, AM. Yes. Four-thirty in the morning. But we’ll get a free breakfast…

Click here for today’s pictures

June 9, 2006

Biking time: 10:30AM to 2:30PM
End: 50′35.306N, 127′05.350W, 4M
Distance: 58.1KM
We took our time getting going this morning because we knew we had less distance to cover than yesterday. Plus, we didn’t have any van-sorting to deal with, so despite our laziness we still managed to set off at 10:30. Destination: Port McNeill. Much of today’s ride was still a cash-in on the climbing we did on day one. There were no major grinds, just some rolling hills (big enough to slow us down to a walking pace, but small enough that you wouldn’t even notice them in a car). About a third of the way there, we stopped for lunch at an abandoned gas station at the South end of Nimpkish Lake. Everything was boarded up but we were able to enjoy their overgrown picnic area for a few minutes. During the afternoon ride, my left knee started hurting a bit, underlining the need to lighten the load a little. We arrived nice and early in Port McNiell, and decided we’d try to find a free lawn to camp on rather than pushing further. With only 40 km or so to Port Hardy, we could afford to take it easy. Our first stop was an early dinner at Subway. I thought we’d seen the end of the restaurant chains when we left Campbell River (in the van), but I guess they’ve got their hooks into even the smallest towns now.

After pouring the food down and filling the water bottles up, we dragged the bikes two stores over and hit up a small coffee shop. It was a good thing we decided to do that instead of drinking Subway coffee because the shop was really amazing. Called “The Trading Post” and run by a full on cowboy, the place doubled as a music store (selling over 300 guitars in two years) and we were serenaded by a couple of acoustic guitarists with the owner accompanying them on the wooden spoons. After talking to the owner about his trip to Tombstone Arizona and signing their guest book (a surfboard), we continued on our quest to find the visitor’s centre. And we did. In fact, we found it full of useless information as always. However we also found that it had a covered wraparound porch, so we planned to wait for it to close and then sleep there for free. What we hadn’t counted on were the infrared cameras covering the entire perimiter of the building. Jerks! So we set out to find another free spot, hoping to set the tent up behind the guides/scouts hall across the lane. As we snooped around out back, a door opened and a guy and his son came out and talked to us. We pretended to be stupid lost travellers, and talked about our trip with them for a bit. Turned out Burt and his son were going to be heading out to a guides camp in a few minutes. Little did they know we planned to come back in an hour and take over their lawn. As we turned to leave, Burt called us back to ask where we were staying. Then he hit us with an offer to use their yard, AND their firepit AND their firewood. Bam! After getting a few supplies (and wine of course), we went back and set up… campfire and all. Then Burt came back on the scene (apparently they’d forgotten to bring some essentials back to camp… namely an easel). He had no problems with our wining and dining by the fire, and on top of it all he left the door unlocked so we could use the bathrooms and showers in the morning. Thanks Burt! Hopefully we can score a lot more free lawnspace and hot water generosity.

Click here for today’s pictures

June 8, 2006

Biking time: 11AM to 6PM
End: Woss
Distance: 76.4KM
Day one! After camping in a parking lot last night, we woke up at 6AM and drove to Sayward Junction for breakfast at the Cypress Tree. After eating, we spent over an hour using their freshly paved parking lot to spread out all of our junk and pack up the panniers. We gave them some leftover beer when they came out to see what was going on, and rather than using it, they put it in the back room with our names on it so that we could stop in and get drunk at the end of the trip. They probably think we will forget, but they’re wrong. We then drove to Lorraine and Lyle’s place to drop off the van. Their property is amazing. Their house is up on a hill in the trees, and down below they have a huge circular driveway with a small pasture in the middle on which they graze a few sheep, a small goat and a llama (named Maggie). We got to feed the llama and chat with Lorraine for a while before she had to leave to pick her daughter up at school, leaving us with a lot of stuff and two bikes to load it onto. Fully loaded, my bike is unliftable. Amy’s is… but only barely. Our first goal was getting out of the driveway without falling. Not easy. Once we hit the road, we were a bit wobbly but we got used to it quite fast. Its a good thing too… a few kilometres into the ride and we were already up against a mountain climb and a serious headwind. With Woss as our goal (70 km away), we pedalled onward and upward. At lunch we stopped at a rest area and fought with the stove for 15 minutes in order to make some instant backpackers food. Unfortunately we were almost out of gas (shoulda filled up in Sayward!). A lawn maintenance crew helped us with a little spare fuel, so we were able to have lukewarm reconstituted chicken curry with rice. Mmm! We pressed on for the rest of the afternoon and thankfully hit some payoff for all of the climbing we’d done earlier. The last hour or so was mostly downhill into Woss, where we were able to grab some real food (and gas) before heading a few kilometers out of town to the nearest rest station. After dinner, we fought with the trees for a good half hour in order to get our food hoisted, then set the tent up in the corner for some forbidden camping. Don’t tell! After all of our “learning” today, we decided we may need to lighten the load a bit. We are carrying to much food and too many tools to start with. Perhaps in Port Hardy we will invest in some lighter thermarests as well. All in all, we’re pretty happy to have made it 76km on day one. Some perspective however: The speed limit here is 100km/h so we spent a day travelling 45 minutes of car-distance (not counting speeding). Thanks, oil!

Click here for today’s pictures