you can not get there from here

Leaving Kelowna, I had about three weeks before I needed to be in Anchorage where I’ll meet Anna and where we’ll both (God willing) run the Mayor’s Marathon. My plan was to head west to Vancouver Island, travel to the north of that island, catch a ferry to the northern coat of British Columbia and then ride north. Things have not worked out that way. Instead, they’ve worked out as follows:

From the incredibly hot Kelowna, I headed northwest, then west, then southwest in a counter-clockwise direction to get to southwest British Columbia. The ride through Lillooet, Pemberton, Whistler and Squamish is jaw-dropping, especially on a clear day. Mountainous areas there range from very dry to quite lush. And at most time a view of a river, often right along the road.

Along this route I met up with five other bikers – we chatted for a bit and found ourselves riding together for a while, then grabbing dinner together. While at dinner, the sky clouded over, then thundered, then dropped rain. One of the people – Dean – mentioned that the rivers along roads we had just ridden may rise as a result of snow runoff from the recently-warm weather, soon to be compounded by predictably significant rainfall. Since I was headed in the opposite direction, such concerns were certainly not mine. Or so I thought.

The following day moose and I rode the BC ferry to Vancouver Island. On the ride I met up with John and Judy and we talked about a dozen topics, including where it might be good to stay overnight on the island. John’s solution to that topic was “another island.” He mentioned that he and Judy had built a home on a neighboring island quite a few years ago and more recently built a second, larger house. The offer to stay overnight in a house all to myself was not to be passed by.

I followed John, Judy and their son LJ from the ferry terminal for about twenty minutes to a shoreline area where they parked their car and launched a small motorboat. The four of us piled in and headed three miles to the very small island where they live. I would most definitely be lying if I were to say that I wasn’t slightly uncomfortable leaving my bike behind and boarding such a small boat headed for the unknown. At the same time, my gut was very comfortable with these three people. And I typically follow my gut (convenient, since it sticks out in front of me).

I absolutely loved the visit with John, Judy and LJ. Their home so far from the mainstream is admirable and inspiring. I’m not sure how I failed to get a photo of these new friends, but I’ll let a couple other shots do the talking.

In the morning, John took me back to Vancouver Island and I headed south to meet up with Lee, a fellow GS rider I had been in touch with via ADV Rider. Lee’s schedule allowed him to spend quite a bit of the day with me, riding the southern part of the island and showing me some f the best roads and views. While riding with a new friend was the best part, a certain errand is worthy of description.

As one of his several security-related work programs, Lee is authorized to work on ATM machines. At one point during our ride, he received a call that an ATM on the lower level of a nightclub needed work and so we visited the club. Since the lower level was not open during the day, Lee asked to speak with the manager – she reacted with great skepticism when she saw two bikers arrive to fix her cash machine. While a completely unique experience, fixing an ATM in the dark basement of a Canadian nightclub fits quite neatly into a long list of things that I’d never have predicted I might have done recently.

Incidentally, Lee did point out that quite a bit of Vancouver Island and certain other islands are below the 39^th parallel. Since that line defines most of the US/Canada border, I asked him if that land shouldn’t really belong to the US. I did promise hat I wouldn’t try to make a big deal of this with my fellow countrymen, so let’s handle this one gently, ok?

I headed north a couple hours to find a hotel a little closer to where I’d need to catch the ferry two mornings later. The ferry ride would begin at 7:30 AM and would deliver me to Prince Rupert late in the evening. From Prince Rupert I’d head east just past the town of Terrace, then head north on the Stewart Cassiar Highway on my way to the Yukon and Alaska.

At breakfast the following morning I spoke with a couple park rangers who stayed at the same hotel. I had overheard them speak about flooding to the north and mudslide that closed route 16, right near Terrace. I am REALLY glad I spoke with these rangers. If not, I may well have taken the ferry (15 hours, $350) to a town from which there would be no practical way to leave.

I left Vancouver Island later that day and returned to the mainland. I headed to Squamish, where I’d spent the night three nights earlier. While checking in at that night’s hotel, a person approached me and asked, “are you riding to Alaska?” “Why yes.” Chris introduced himself and told me about how he had tried to ride north two days in a row. Apparently, the same road that I had enjoyed earlier in the week had indeed flooded. It seems that Dean’s words were in fact very applicable indeed.

It seems that heavy snows last winter, combined with a hot spell last weekend (my warm run in Kelowna was – in fact – unseasonably warm) AND recent rain has caused the rivers to run quite full and certain flood plains to earn their classification.

So how will I head north? Tough to say at this point, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be interesting!