boondocking – Page 4 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Day 38 August 12 Jasper NP to Cranbrook, BC

By the time morning came and I had a good night’s sleep, I was in a much better mood, and knowing that I still had a camera that worked helped my mood as well. We didn’t have much of a plan for the day except to continue south along the Columbia Icefield Parkway, to see at least part of Banff, maybe visit Lake Louise, and then find a place to camp for the night.

We left the campground quite early, hoping to have plenty of time to amble along and see whatever caught our fancy. In fact, it was so early that I had trouble taking photos with much of the landscape still shadowed by the incredibly high and steep Rocky Mountains all around me. As we climbed to the summit of the parkway, I was excited about seeing another glacier and the famous Columbia Icefield.

Jasper is certainly beautiful, and the Rockies have their own personality, all that limestone makes shapes that are very different from the volcanic and wild metamorphic mountains that we have traveled through in Alaska. We arrived at the glacier early enough to miss the most of the tourists.

I had somehow expected lots of ice along the Icefields Parkway, I have no idea why, but I pictured it all snowy and icy and that we would be driving very close to the icefields and the glaciers. It isn’t that way at all. The glacier itself is just a small piece of its former glory, like so many others, it has receded dramatically in the last half century. We walked around a bit, but weren’t inspired to do much hiking through all the rubble to the tiny bit of dirty blue ice that was visible to us from the trailhead.

Again, there were the markers showing the extent of the ice in years past, and the incredibly fast rate of recent recession. The visitor center at the summit of the parkway is reputed to be beautiful and interesting, but the parking lot was already getting full and we just weren’t up to another battle to see more stories about the Columbia Icefield.

Do I sound jaded? I don’t mean to. It was truly a beautiful drive, but we were so very spoiled by the beauty and especially the isolation in Alaska that it was hard to get into visiting here. I hope we go back sometime, and take the time to enjoy the special beauty of the Canadian Rockies and the beautiful national parks, and especially some of the surrounding areas. Sometime when I am not filled with images of solitude and isolation and roads that stretch for miles without another vehicle in sight.

As we continued south, the traffic started picking up and it was hard to pull over into any of the turnouts for pictures because they were already full of cars and people. There were some incredible lakes along the way, with reflections that were breathtaking, and the photos I got show a bit of blur to the trees because I had to get them while we were moving, out the window. Still, when I look back at these photos, I am amazed at the color and shapes.

The road south to Banff is excellent, with interesting bridges constructed across the highway to allow the animals to cross safely. Literature suggests that these barriers and bridges are actually working, although I couldn’t help wondering what would happen to an animal who happened to find its way inside the big fences along the highway. How would they get back out?

We decided early on that driving east into the actual town of Banff wasn’t something we wanted to do. Camping there is tight and expensive, we had no reservations, and after all this was a Friday night. Instead I just wanted to see Lake Louise, maybe hike around a bit, maybe even go for a kayak. Silly me. Once we arrived in the town of Lake Louise, the crush of traffic and tourism really became fully apparent.

I once heard that Moraine Lake was even more beautiful and a bit more isolated, so we decided to go there first. Parking the big rig in the visitor center parking lot was easy enough and we unhooked and loaded up into the baby car with the dog. It was under 20 miles of narrow winding road to the parking lot for the lake and another 1/2 mile to walk from the long line of cars already parked along the road outside the lot. Hmmm.

In spite of the crowds, though, the short hike around the lake was well worth the effort. Moraine Lake is a lovely turquoise gem set into the rugged mountains. The lodge was lovely, small and inviting, with wonderful cabins overlooking the lake with huge picture windows and fireplaces. It might be fun to be there in the morning and evening after all the people thinned out. Abby loved swimming as well, even though the water was cold from the glacier that feeds the lake.

After our hike, we returned to the car with the plan to take a similar hike at Lake Louise. We drove past the lodge and tried to figure out just how many miles we would have to walk before we got past the parking lot. The traffic was thick, and jammed to a halt trying to get into the filled lot that was farthest from the lake. Maybe I will see Lake Louise on another trip, but this time we looked at each other, hooked a fast u, and drove back to the motor home and out of the town in short order.

In very little time, on that broad smooth fancy highway, we were traveling west on Highway 93 toward Kootenay National Park, another Canadian gem. There were far fewer people on the road, and the vistas were lovely, but it was still too early in the day to think about stopping so we just continued on west toward British Columbia and Radium Hot Springs.

I have always wanted to visit Radium, and many of my friends from the Spokane area loved to go to Fairmont Hot Springs for skiing and winter sports. Radium Hot Springs was a charming little town, but the crowds were again building and the traffic was getting heavy. We stopped for a photo of the odor free pools, filled up with gas and continued south on 93, admiring the beautiful Columbia River Valley from high on the hill and laughing at the bighorn sheep wandering around through town.

Mo was getting a bit tired with all the driving, and we were both in the mood for a steak of some kind, so we thought that a stop in the Invermere Visitor Center would yield some good information. Usually the visitor centers are wonderful places with great volunteers eager to share their joys with us. That was not the case here. The two women were incredibly snotty, acting as though we were unbelievably stupid to think there might be a place to stay on a Friday night, and that we were even more stupid to think we would find a steak in Invermere. Well, excuuuuussseee me!!

I guess this strip through BC is fairly toney, with most of the RV parks converted to lease lots and resorts not particularly suited to travelers just passing through. We found a tiny place on the map called Fort Steele, and I asked one of our non-friendly ladies if there might be something there, and she seemed to think we could park in the Pioneer Town parking lot. Fine. Another 80 miles or so was nothing, right?

There were several provincial parks along the way, but we were just in the mood for boondocking and knew that probably on a hot summer Friday night there wouldn’t be any space for us there anyway so we continued south. Finally at Fort Steele, we were surprised to find the lovely little pioneer town closing up for the evening with very LARGE signs saying No Overnight Parking. Hmmm. To my delight, however, one of the young women closing the place down said,”There is a WalMart in Cranbrook and you can park there.”

Yaay! Off we went down the road, ten more miles, to the sweetest WalMart I have seen in a long time. We certainly weren’t the only ones with the same idea as the parking lot was filled almost bumper to bumper with motorhomes and fifth wheels, some folks even set up with chairs. I told Mo the boondock etiquette suggests we don’t open our slide, but we decided to do it anyway. Our rig is half the size of most even with the one slide extended! We did not set up the bbq or put out the chairs at least.

There was an employee in the parking lot and I asked him where I could find a good steak and he sent us down the road to Mr Mikes where we had a great steak supper with a “cheap” bottle of red house wine that set us back $31.00. Guess we should have asked the price when the waitress told us about the 5 bucks off special on the house red. LOL That dinner cost 100 bucks but it was a deal at any price after our long day, and our night at WalMart was free and just about perfect. I slept like baby.

Miles driven today: 288

The rest of the photos of Jasper are linked here

More photos of Moraine Lake are linked here

And some other photos from this day of travel are here

Day 36 August 10 Grand Prairie to Hinton

When we planned this trip, one of the roads that intrigued me was the Big Horn Highway from Grande Prairie Alberta to Grand Cache and then to HInton, the gateway to Jasper. In the Milepost, the road was described in glowing terms, indicating beautiful views and abundant wildlife. From the way the road was described, I wasn’t even sure it was going to be an easy road for the MoHo. The road was better than many on the trip, and it turns out the only wildlife we saw much of were the fast moving pick-up trucks driven by guys that I assumed were working the abundant oil fields.

We took our time leaving the comfortable park in Grande Prairie, knowing that we planned to boondock somewhere along the highway for the evening, since we planned to spend the entire next day exploring Jasper National Park. No rush, no hurry. The MoHo was shiny clean, rugs all washed, fresh showers and fresh shampoos for us and we were ready for a day of just rolling along.

It was almost 11 when we pulled out of town and the air was a bit murky, but certainly not as bad as the previous day. The sun was hot coming through the windshield, and we spent most of the day with the windows open enjoying the breezes. I’m so glad that Jeremy now simply ignores open windows and happily lounges on the dash when the windows are open. Now and then he will lift his nose to the wind and smell whatever it brings his way.

This route turned out to be rather boring, and even though it is listed as a scenic route, there are very few turnouts, no interpretive signs to explain the landscape, most of the time, hardly any shoulder to even pull over for a photo. As we approached Grand Cache, we noticed a huge coal plant along the Shadow River and dramatic coal seams in the bedrock along the highway.

The town of Grand Cache was a beautiful bright spot in the sunny say, with brilliant blue skies and big white puffies, my favorite. There is a lovely visitor center that we thoroughly enjoyed. They are in the process of rescuing the historic fire lookouts, moving them to the visitor center park, and telling the story of each one. We spent some enjoyable moments walking around the park with Abby and reading all the interpretive signs about the First Nations culture in the area, the history of the coal industry, and the stories of the forest lookouts.

As afternoon began to lengthen, and we were just ten miles or so north of Hinton, a wide turnout appeared with a side road slipping behind the timber. Perfect! We unhooked so we could drop a bit out of sight and parked for the very warm evening. Even though there was a fire ring, the mosquitos and heat made a fire seem less enticing, and instead we turned on the fans and after an early supper settled in with our books. I liked that we were invisible from the busy road, and by dark most of the traffic subsided.

Miles driven today: about 208

Road condition: 2 lane paved highway with a ton of construction and lots of big pick-ups driving fast, the oil industry employs lots of guys in big pick-ups!

A few photos from this day of travel are linked here.

August 8 Day 34 Muncho Lake to somewhere along 97

I suppose days like yesterday only come one at a time. We woke at Muncho Lake this morning, same place we went to sleep last night, but it didn’t take long for the magic to dissipate as we traveled east and south, leaving the Rocky Mountains behind and moving onto the great inland plateau that makes up a large part of British Columbia.

When we settled in for the night, Mo wanted to load the kayaks, but I had visions of a silent morning paddle on that beautiful lake. Instead morning brought strong winds, even in the early light, and we loaded up the boats and were on the road by 8am. This part of BC is gorgeous, and the road passes through Muncho Lake Provincial Park and then through Stone Mountain Provincial Park. It’s a narrow road, but not bad, with a few curves here and there and a natural, meandering kind of mode that was fun to drive.

We saw more Stone Mountain Sheep at their namesake park, all standing in the road along the highway and in the highway, looking almost exactly as they do in the Milepost photo. Very cute critters, but I’m not sure what it is that they find along the road that is so interesting. Once beyond the park, the road dropped down to follow the Tetsa River, and the views in all directions were wonderful.

We pulled into the Tetsa Campground with the promise of fresh baked bread, and I checked in at the camp store to find perfect round loaves of fresh sourdough bread and a warm cinnamon bun that was hands down ten times better than the famous buns on the Klondike Highway. On the counter in the crockpot, was a bubbling pot of incredibly good smelling soup, so I bought a bowl of that as well for our supper to go with the bread. The owner was charming and conversational, with that far northern accent that I am getting used to.

Continuing east we crossed the last of the Northern Rocky Mountains as we moved onto the plateau. The trees were thick and the aspen and birch was dark green, but there wasn’t much else to see all the way in to Fort Nelson. Some agenda items: get water, dump, get gas, get money, get food, wash the rigs. We succeeded in the first few, with a stop at the visitor center that yielded information about where to find an ATM. Right next to the ATM was a pizza place, and we haven’t had pizza in more than a month, so we ordered one to go.

The city operates a free dump and water station near the museum, so we took advantage of that, planning to boondock somewhere tonight and wanting to be sure we had enough water for baths. I still have sulfur in my hair and it does feel a bit weird. While parked at the pizza place, I discovered a hot spot and managed to upload a few photos and a single blog post while checking email and doing some more banking. Mo was anxious to get the rigs washed, so after I stopped into the IGA for supplies, we headed over to the car wash.

It’s hard to explain just how these kinds of chores can seem to take so long, can be so tiresome and can really take the shine out of a day. Before we washed the rigs, we needed fuel, and I paid the highest price ever at 1.46 per liter. I put 225 Canadian into the tank and it was still only 3/4 full. Trying to get out of the station added more frustration as some woman from Alaska seemed to think the middle of the driveway was the place to park while she shopped and took on water. When I asked her to move so we could get out, she pulled forward a few feet and then got out to do more stuff. Duh! Excuse me, but please, we would like to GET OUT OF THIS PLACE!

Not so fast, we still have the rigs to wash. Just a couple of doors down from the FasGas was a car wash with a bay big enough for both rigs and we just slid into position without a hitch. I went to get loonies, and the proprietor informed me it used only toonies, with each toonie giving one minute of wash time. I looked at Mo, we looked at the MoHo, and thought about just how far ten bucks would take us in that filthy mess. Maybe not.

We pulled out of town in a ton of traffic, lots of pickup trucks driving south to work the second shift on the huge natural gas plant south of town. In 1957, Fort Nelson didn’t even have power, but now with oil shale and natural gas the place it starting to really boom. It was actually hot for the first time since we left the lower 48, with a humid 90 plus degrees showing on the thermometer.

We are now driving south on the Alaska Highway, BC highway 97. Advertised road condition says wide road, 2 lane good pavement all the way to Dawson Creek. As the miles pass I think we are both feeling a bit better. It does make me wonder how things will feel when we have to deal with reentry into traffic and the frustrations of a populated world. For the time being, we plan to find another wide place in the road to boondock tonight, eat our pizza and drink a well deserved beer.

Later: Around 4 pm, maybe 40 or 50 miles south of Fort Nelson at an unnamed creek, Mo suddenly said, “Hey, this looks good!”. We crossed the little bridge and turned down the tiny road on the east side of the highway toward a nice wide area along the creek. Perfect.

It was hot. After settling in we made sure the fan was on before taking Abby for a walk down to the stream. Not sure why, but the stream was a dull brown color, hopefully not some sort of runoff from the oil fields. We heated up our pizza and relaxed with dinner, turned on the water heater for a good shower, and then, bam. Two big rigs saw that little narrow road as well and rumbled down into “our” campsite, jumped out, hollered at each other while backing and proceeded to set up their nice little camp, chairs and all, right out our front window.

Ok. Right. I’m a jerk. It’s NOT my campground, it’s not my creek, and they have just as much a right to be here as I do. Bummer. I have been spoiled rotten, and its time to get back to the real world. ugh. Little black flies are buzzing around INSDIE the MoHo, and I’m not sure how they got here. Big black spruce beetles are hanging out on the screen. Did I mention that it’s hot? Mo is hiding away in her book on the sofa, oblivious to my grumblings. Smart.

Miles driven today: about 230 from stop 20 to stop 21 on the Streets and Trips map to the left.

Road conditions: variable, but mostly good 2 lane highway. A bit of construction in BC, a bit of narrow stuff here and there, some frost heaves here and there, but we still traveled at 50mph most of the time.

The rest of the photos for this day are linked here

August 7 Day 33 Irons Creek to Muncho Lake

In life sometimes there are good days. Sometimes there are really great days. Then sometimes there are days that are written in golden memory, shining and brilliant for the rest of a lifetime. This was just one of those days. Since I woke this morning beside a creek in British Columbia, time seemed to crawl along in some sort of slow motion. Every single moment of this perfect day was drawn out long and still, a gift I suppose from the land and the water and the skies, a gift so that I could savor it.

Our boondock site last night along Irons Creek was still in an area of road construction, so we thought it would be a good idea to get on the road early enough so we didn’t need to worry about falling in line with a pilot car.The skies were still light when I woke at 11:30, but by 1:30 when I again woke and checked for northern lights it was dark enough to see stars. I haven’t seen stars since we left more than a month ago. It was 31 degrees when we opened the back blinds at 5:30 the only one we had closed during the long quiet night. After heating a pot of water for tea, we closed up the rig and were on the road before 6.

The drama of the morning light was accentuated with mysteriously beautiful drifts of fog lying in the low lands along the Llaird River. We drove for awhile looking for a nice level pullout to stop and cook Mo’s favorite Sunday morning treat, poached eggs on toast. Then another stop for a walk down to the river to view the Whirlpool Canyon rapids was rewarding with cool fresh morning air and the roar of the river.

At Coal Creek, there was a small café advertising WiFi, and I thought it might be a good place to try to upload the backlog of blog posts, but even with the $5. fee, I couldn’t manage more than a simple update post with no photos and a quick check of email and bank accounts. That was really all that mattered anyway, the blog will be there when we are eventually.

Within minutes of leaving Coal Creek we encountered the first of many buffalo grazing along the highway. Most folks traveling this route will see these buffalo, and they seem to congregate along the wide highway shoulders thick with grasses. I wondered if they were native to this area or if they have been transplanted here by the BC Parks. Of course, with no internet, I will have to find that out later. We enjoyed taking photos of the huge bulls with their massive heads and the little ones protected by their moms as they moved along with heads down, grazing.

The reality of cars and wildlife hit home hard as we passed a dead buffalo beside the road, and saw her little one grazing alone along the highway. Huge signs warn of buffalo in the area, but still many are killed. In all, we saw at least 4 dozen buffalo, many bulls and many babies, so even with the sad moment it was encouraging to seem them. Later I found out that these are “wood bison” and that the herd was once completely decimated. Only in the recent decades has the BC government protected them and the herd has grown to nearly 100 animals.

The wide road opened up before us, dropping down off the Yukon Plateau to the valley of the “mighty” Llaird River. Yes, it is another mighty river, according to the Milepost. I do love the mighty rivers of the Yukon and British Columbia. It’s a good word.

One of my important “todo” lists for this trip was a visit to Llaird River Hot Springs and it was less than 80 miles from our night camp to the provincial park. At first I thought we might stop and camp here for the night, but then decided that it was worth the ten bucks to dip in the springs and then continue down the road to Muncho Lake, another big “todo” on my list and camp there. I wanted to dip my kayak in those famous turquoise waters.

We settled into a parking space and turned on the fan for the animals since Abby couldn’t go out on the hot springs trail. They have a boardwalk that passes through hot mud flats and wetlands, through the forest, to the first pool. The second pool is now closed due to an endangered animal that lives there. There was construction going on, with a new dam being built, but somehow it still felt silent and calm around the pool. There were a few people around, most of whom seemed incredibly respectful of the special beauty of this place.

I slipped into the mid zone of the pool, knowing that 126*F would definitely be too much for me at the source of the spring. It was heaven, just pure heaven. There is a bit of sulfur, but not too much, and there is every variation of temperature in the water, from bathtub comfortable at the lower end of the pool, to too hot for me to handle at the upper end.

I marveled at the feeling of incredibly hot surface water, with cooler water at my feet. Perfect for hitting that lower back spot without getting too hot! Mo doesn’t like sulfur water so I swam alone while she rested on the benches. I’m not sure how long I stayed, but while I was in that water, nothing hurt, just nothing. You know how it is when the years catch us, something somewhere always seems to be hurting. Nothing hurt at all while I was in that pool, and as I sit here by the campfire tonight, still nothing hurts. I could use one of those springs in my own yard!

Once again I met an Alaskan willing to tell her whole story. All it takes is a hello and a simple question, and they are off and running. I met Janet, a woman who has homesteaded at Healy near Denali for 29 years. She is driving back to the ‘lower 48” for the first time since then. Her daughter is in Colorado and needs her. She is afraid of dealing with the city, laughingly telling me that in all her time at Healy she only had to deal with one crazed bear. She hates the idea of dirty snow and of paying for water. But her daughter needs her. She quit her two jobs and is going to Colorado. She last dipped in the Llaird pools 29 years ago when it was all free, but promised herself this one stop on the Alaska Highway.

Not far beyond Llaird Hot Springs the view opened up to the lovely blue water of Muncho Lake. I think I expected it to be a bit more colorful thnt it looked at first because it has been touted so much in all the literature. Still, it was a respectable blue with edges of turquoise and emerald in the shallows. There is a campground listed in the Milepost at the southern end of the lake, with 15 rocky beach sites. On the information map for the park, however, we saw another campground on the northern end and decided that might be more to our liking.

Pulling in to Macdonald Campground we found 15 beautiful sites, each with it’s own perfect small gravel beach, a table and a fire ring. It was still early in the afternoon, and it was warm and clear. We set up in our private, perfectly level gravel drycamp site, opened the awning to shelter our chairs against the afternoon sun, and looked forward to a long, quiet afternoon of beautiful views, gorgeous water, and peaceful quiet.

For the first time on this trip, Mo had a chance to plug in her little electric chain saw to cut up the pallet lying near our site in addition to a couple of downed dry spruce logs. She discovered that with the generator going, the chain saw would only run on the outlet set up for the microwave, and run it did. We had enough wood for a great long fire after supper into the evening.

I can’t explain why one day might be more perfect than any other. The litany sounds like any other day on the Alaska journey. I know we have seen more spectacular scenery, done exciting things all along the route, traveled more dramatic paths. But something about this day seemed golden, slow and perfect. I sat in the lounge chair for a long time just looking up at the light filtering through the aspen leaves listening to the lap of water on the shore.

Earlier in the day I relaxed for a long time in a clear warm pool surrounded by green peacefulness, and later in the day I silently paddled along the shore of a perfect lake surrounded by perfect mountains. We had a great home-cooked supper with simple chicken breasts, my favorite grated carrot and apple slaw, and some super sweet corn brought all the way from Medford Costco in our little freezer. After supper I slipped out again onto the lake, and then while Mo relaxed with a book I took Abby for a walk along the shore. I watched the moon low in the sky to the east and the long twilight as the sun set behind the high mountains to our west.

I felt more quiet inside than I have on the entire trip, as if the accumulation of all the experience finally settled in to a deep place in my heart. I guess that is why is was somehow the ‘perfect’ day for me on the Alaska Highway.

Miles driven today: about 230

Road condition: beautiful roads most of the way with just a bit of construction here and there

The rest of the photos for this day of travel are linked here

August 6 Day 32 Robinson Roadhouse to Irons Creek

We spent a surprisingly quiet night at the rest area at Robinson Roadhouse and were once again on the road early in the morning with hot tea, deciding that breakfast wasn’t needed. The sun was still low in the sky, which most of the time is great, except as we passed the beautiful Emerald (also called Rainbow) Lake, the colors weren’t yet illuminated with the sun still behind the high mountains to the east. The road to Carcross is beautiful, winding through the mountains with vistas of White Pass. The history of this road is woven tightly into the story of the Klondike gold rush, as it was at Bennet lake west of Carcross that the minors boarded the lake steamers.

We walked around the burned hull of the Tutshi sternwheeler, reading the sad story of her attempted restoration, only to tragically burn in 1990 before the fire suppression systems were installed. Perusing Mo’s photos of her 1974 journey, we found a shot of the boat before the restoration began. I also found a photo of the Caribou Hotel which was still in operation back then. Today, it appeared empty although it looked as though it was in the process of restoration.

The White Pass-Yukon Railroad Depot provided an important route from Skagway to Whitehorse, where it no longer goes, now ending here at Carcross. It was just after 8 as we pulled into town and all was quiet.

Continuing east along the Tagish Road past the post where the miners were required to check in and have their full ton of provisions documented by the RCMP before they were allowed to continue north to the gold fields. The circle route adds an extra 27 miles back to the Alaska Highway, but it is beautiful and well worth the trip.

We were back in the Yukon, on the open road with wide vistas spreading out before us on a perfectly clear morning. There a so many museums at nearly every town, it is hard to see them all. Reading about George Johnston’s Museum at Teslin, however, was intriguing, and we chose to stop. I’m so glad we did. George Johnston was Tglingit Indian with a story as wild and romantic as the Yukon itself. As a young man, he was intrigued with automobiles and went to Whitehorse to buy the first automobile brought to Teslin. Or course, there were no roads in Teslin, so he used the 70 mile long Teslin Lake in the winter and built his own 3 mile road in the summer.

I had read all this in the Milepost, but I must say that the museum brought George to life in a way I would have never understood without our morning stop. In addition to his story of the car, he was a self taught photographer and for 40 years documented the life of his people in Teslin. As we left, a sign board told the story of the lost language, and how now at last it is being restored. I would say this is a “don’t miss it” museum, aka the Milepost. Of course, it says that about lots of places that aren’t necessarily so great.

Not far beyond Teslin Lake we were surprised to see a young black bear grazing for berries on the slope above the road. He wasn’t the least bit concerned that we stopped for photos, and again, I was glad for a telephoto lens to catch his sweet face up close. If you look at the rest of the photos, you might see his crooked little nose. I swear it is a bit crooked, or plastered on a bit sideways.

Mid afternoon found us at Watson Lake and the famous Signpost Forest. When Mo stopped here in 74 there were only a few posts along the highway and she took a couple of photos. The forest now is nothing if not overwhelming.

We walked among all the signs from all over the world, amazed at some folks creations and wondering just how many of those city signs were stolen from their local burgs. We tried to find some of the early signs but could make no sense of it. Back into the visitor center to find out the 150 of the original posts had rotted and were removed. All the signs on those posts had been nailed up hither and yon wherever there was a space. Mo was glad she didn’t have a sign to find. We added Mo’s sign that we brought from home to the melee and moved on down the road.

Watson Lake is the last major community in the Yukon and as we entered British Columbia the road conditions started going downhill. We got caught in a long line of cars in very dusty gravel for about ten miles. It was time to find a boondock site, and sure enough there was a wide place along a creek just beckoning us to spend the night. We slipped out of the long line of cars and big trucks to the long gravel road and realized that in order to get level we would have to unhook.

It was worth it, and eventually all the pilot cars stopped coming, the grader finally quit after 6pm, and we had a beautiful quiet evening reading and enjoying our free spot along Irons Creek. I did a little bit of reading and found out that at one time the bridge over Irons Creek was a 25 foot diameter culvert, one of the largest in Canada, and it had failed a few years ago requiring that a new bridge be constructed. The creek didn’t look at all threatening at this time of year, but we were far enough above it that it wasn’t a worry anyway.

Miles traveled today: about 317 from point 15 to point 18 on the map at left

Road conditions: good all the way through the Yukon, ten miles of dusty gravel into BC

The rest of the photos for this day are linked here.