And yes, she did say tee hee.

Morning was, up and breakfast at Timmies. We hit the road and stopped on the outskirts of town at a Petro Canada. This was the first time I had ever seen purple for sale at a public pump… Cool.

The road to Terrace follows the Skeena river and it’s a beautiful drive. I imagine this is what Vancouver looked like before it was developed and over developed. The alluvial washes were fascinating but didn’t tempt me to go trudging across what was likely just quicksand.

Outside of terrace the roadsides are clogged with trucks and every boat ramp choked with trucks and trailers. The salmon are running and the fishermen are out in droves. We stopped before Terrace and walked down to the river and hawked at the monster Chinook the fisherman had landed.

Lunch at the info centre and we decided to push on to New Hazelton. An hour later we picked out a campsite and started the bushman part of out trip. With little trouble we set up the tents and no lives were lost because of Bruce’s extremely precise and detailed instructions on how, when and where to do each and every task. Thank god for Bruce.

Since the non-Bruce contingent had forgot to replenish the beer (even after two stops for supplies) we loaded up and headed for town. Leslie picked up some black cherry cider to complement the Keith’s Red Bruce chose. Carmen wanted a Paddywhack but Bruce decided he could deliver that later for free.

Back at camp Carmen provided lots and lots of good kindling, all the whilst say she was good at wood and giggling to herself. Leslie and Bruce really are quite tolerant at times like these. Roasted hotdogs, beer, a walk and general fireside chatter rounded out the evening while the peanut gallery hounded your humble author with loud shouts of “what about now! Is it done now?”

The Internet is flaky, so you will have to wait for any images, such as they are…