macblaze.ca

Morning was slow because Carmen decided on another shower… did I mention we enjoyed the hot running water…? Eventually we were all up and running and Carmen toasted her tomato sandwich over the fire (which frankly was a pain in the ass to keep lit).

We eventually got packed up and checked out. we’d pretty much given up on the idea of running away to Grand Cache; we figured there were too many carnivores for competition and we’d eventually have to surface again…sigh. We cruised into town and gassed up; Carmen did her usual bang-up job of bug scrubbing and we were on the road again.

We figured a short hike around Maligne Canyon wouldn’t be too much of an imposition so we pulled in to the crowded parking lot. We took the high trail down and it was empty, but as soon as we started back up the main trail the tourists and their kids and dogs and pretty much everything else descended. I guess we’d been too many days away from the touristas cause they sure as hell were irritating. I guess the three of us really are misanthropes, although Leslie’s biggest beef was with the 25 or so dogs we encountered on the trail.

Fighting through the hordes for a bathroom break gave us a final bitter (sweet) taste of Jasper and we hit the road. Leslie finished off her abominable book for us and we groaned through the last chapter as we got a lurid description of Nell not getting any and no real resolution to the mystery except to blame it all on Rasputin. Jeez.

Leslie drove the last bit home and we unpacked around 5. We bid Carmen adieu and showered, sorted the mail and had a quick run through on the pictures. We have two more days before life starts again so hopefully we stay calm cool and relaxed. Carmen will be off to find her lion soon and our cats are busily ignoring us and then checking every 2 seconds to see if we are still there.

C’est tout…

Rise and shine. I generously let Carmen get up early and make the hot water before arising and getting in her way. Because of the fire ban we had no morning fire to warm our cockles and had to make do with coffee, tea, hot chocolate or a mixture thereof.

Eventually coaxed the grumpy bear into toasting her bagel on the stove, but there is still some lower lip showing. We packed up efficiently and quickly using the patented Bruce method and soon were on our way. Today’s drive was to Jasper and Leslie sped the miles away by loaning us her melodious voice and reading her ridiculous novel about some American feminist who out wits Sherlock Holmes and carries around 10 tons of makeup. Suffice it to say that Tatiana’s large furry muff provided the highlight of the story… At least for the two 15-year-old boys.

We drove Leslie horse until we hit Tete Jaune and the end of our grand circle. About 2500 km around BC without back tracking… w00t! A quick picture, some pawing of Carmen’s chest and we were on our way.

We stopped at Overlander Falls just past Mt. Robson for a quick 30 minute hike. I nice walk but not overly spectacular and we wanted to hurry and get back to the truck to find out if Nell could vet any more insufferable or if Tatiana was still stroking her sable…

Speaking of stroking, we arrived back at the truck only to find Boingy Bunny in a rather compromising position with Bunny. Carmen swears it’s not Boingy’s doing but a chorus of “harlot” proves her wrong.

Soon we were in Jasper and stopped for lunch and a beer. A nice stroll around town and we loaded up and headed out.

As we waited in line at Whistler, we started to wag and drool over the thought of a shower. Suddenly…

Seems when I had made the reservation I had inadvertently put August 30, not July. There was mo room at the inn for us and, being the long weekend, no room anywhere around. Dahn dahn daa!

But fortunately the kind young ladies in the booth took pity on our pathetic visages and refered us to the ‘special’ clerk. This bastion of helpfulness found us a cancelation and scooted us on our way. Come to think of it, it might of been the smell of 3 unwashed bears that did the trick. Nonetheless we soon had camp set up and were sluicing grime from our bodies with abandon. C was a bit slow so we left her behind with hardly a twinge of guilt. Actually we couldn’t twinge because of the layers of dirt buildup: worse than Tammy Fae at a discount makeup blowout.

But eventually we a were clean and a quiet time of reading, blogging and itching ensued. Seems someone had left her Polysporin at home and, being delicious, was suffering from innumerable bites, cuts and rashes from incessant scratching (we plan on taping socks on her hands tonight). She is, as she said, as itchy and burning as a sailor on leave.

Dinner (smokies and s’mores) are in the agenda next followed by fire and sleep.

I was up first so I boiled the water. Eventually everyone crawled out of their sleep sacks and we noshed on breakfast. Carmen declared herself satisfied with her new bag. Some hot water to wash up and we took down the camp.

We hit the road towards Smithers with little more plan than eastward ho. A few miles outside of Smithers we saw two or three planes circling around. Eventually we noticed smoke off to the west and we realized they were water bombers. Unfortunately the fire was hidden by some trees so we couldn’t see the last part of their attack runs.

A few miles further along we saw a fish hatchery sign so I slammed on the brakes and yanked the wheel to the right. A bubbly young girl came out and and dragged us from dumbfoundedly gazing at a near empty artificial stream.

Inside the shack were huge troughs of 16-18 thousand coho fingerlings. The girl’s job was feeding these hungry buggers for hours on end. Sort of like cute mini piranha. They raise them for a year inside then clip the fin of each and everyone by hand. Then they move them outside for another year before opening the sluice. The salmon leave when they are ready.

The nearby creek had a few running chinook but we didn’t see any. In another month the previously released coho would be coming back and apparently they are a sight to see.

We stopped in Smithers for gas groceries and lunch we stopped at BPs for the worlds longest lunch. For the second time on this trip we got a n00b waitress. She tried hard but really, when you are in a hurry, it’s hard to take. At the Info centre we decided to make it a long day and camp on the other side of Prince George.

The drive is relatively nice.

We stopped again in Vanderhof for a break and a beer topup.

A quick stop in Prince George for gas and we arrived at Perden Lake around 6:30. Camp was setup pretty quick and Leslie whipped up some blueberry pancakes for dinner. Turns out the fire ban started today so C’s s’mores were called on account of dry.

A lovely late evening walk down to watch the trout jump rounded off the evening and we tucked in for the night.

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…