I enjoyed a comfortable and relaxed weekend with my cousin Morgan, her husband John and their son Case on the family potato farm. It was nice catching up and airing our some damp gear to dry in the abundant sunshine. Speaking of which, the weather forecast looked dry and sunny for most of BC moving into next week. Brilliant travelling weather.
Intent on taking my time and smelling the roses, I crossed into BC at the sleepy border crossing of Lynden where my scooter drew the attention of many agents. While inside as they made sure I wasn't going to Canada for work, a crowd gathered as they nudged the bear spray and joked about the stickers. Coming outside I gave them a brief primer on La Tortuga then saddled up and rode into the land of double-doubles maple leaves and stampedes. It occurred to me to ride up into Vancouver and through Squamish and Whistler but with the Victoria Day weekend in full swing, I knew the only highway would be crowded. Instead I followed the Fraser River Valley winding my way north. The many boom and bust gold mine towns dot the roadside and I feel as though tracing the path of history from first nations trails to Hudson Bay fur traders, wagon trains, stern wheelers and the railroad. The story of BC is wrapped in this major artery between the lumber floating downstream, cattle ranches lining it's terrain and oil cars on the railway moving south from the fields.
Abundant sunshine was a real joy as I was able to dry out my damp tent and sleeping bag each day.The many BC Provincial Parks and free lakeside campsites made for fabulous 100 mile days. Some days it warmed to 80F and felt hotter in the sunshine. Eventually I crossed into the drier eastern side of the mountains where Ponderosa Pine, Douglas Fir and sage grew on the sandy arid slopes. It felt like eastern Oregon or perhaps SoCal in the winter time ;)
The streak of warm weather continued and I followed Hwy 99 and 97 northward admiring the change to a wetter greener plateau where larch and alder grew among the fir and pines. Lakes carved from the retreating glaciers appeared on my GPS dotting the landscape. Many such as Beaverdam Lake were a greenish tinge from algae and reflected the deep blue sky and swift cumulous clouds drifting past. Winds whipped up to 30mph and the trees began to bend ominously towars my tent. A cold front was pushing in and the laden dark clouds racing in from the north found me hurrying to finish my sweet potato foil wrap cooking on the crackling campfire. I scarfed the curry concoction down and hid in my tent with a good book and mug of hot tea.
In May 2014 I quit my job to ride a Honda Ruckus over 69'000 mi and counting. Wild camping most nights and cooking most of my own meals, I keep the costs low and the landscape changing.