Still running a few days behind on my blog. But i am catching up. I am posting this one on Thursday, October 2, from Port Hardy.
September 29...
I wrote more more pages in my journal today than any other day because of its importance. I hope i can do justice to the day in this posting.
Trains all through the night at Juniper Beach Provincial Park. Music to my ears. There must be some psychological significance to that.
The entire drive from Juniper Beach to our night camp along route 99 was absolutely spectulsr. Thank you Brian for suggesting that. Without a doubt, it is one of the most scenic routes in North America. Wow. My words are simply not adequate to describe it. It started off as desert at Juniper Beach and then changed costumes four times before ending in an unbelievably beautiful thick mountain forest
Before we got on 99, i lost 20 minutes of precious driving time when the attendant at a gas stop in Cache Creek headed me off in the wrong direction. But my instincts and rules saved the day and i got back on track quickly. Sadly, a quick shopping spree in tiny Cache creek did not net me that couple of hamburgers i wanted to get for Erde. We then got underway for a Provincial Park in Pemberton, 129 miles distant, our target for the night.
Yesterday, when i was trying to decide whether to camp ar Juniper Beach or the more distant Marble Canyon Provincial Park, i decided on the former. Had i only known what a beauty of a park Marble Canyon was, i am sure i would have targeted it, although Juniper beach was nothing to shrug off. 31 miles down 99 we found Marble Canyon. Our campsite at there in effect would have been on an apron to a gorgeous lake. See photo. Next time. We stopped only for a break, and then moved on.
Mountain goats feeding on grass along the road. No danger in hitting them because the road makes you travel slowly, twists, turns, and hills, a cycle that repeats itself the whole way.
Every single natural thing in these scenes i pass thru plays a key role, no matter how big, how small, how beautiful, or how unattractive. The experience is heightened by the occasional thill of the challenging road, especially the steep drop offs without any guard rails. Not good with that sixth tire sitting on my hood blocking my view of where the road ends and tragedy begins.
The forest was so inviting, at 4pm i abruptly changed my target for the night as i passed this luring entrance to a small recreational area, set off the road a but and hidden in a thick forested area right in a bubbling creek. What a heavenly sight it was, and not another soul was to be seen. It took me less than a minute to decide to bivouac here for the night and make up the 30 miles we were shy of Pemberton tomorrow. Why i love isolated sites devoid of people is another of this psychological puzzles i need to figure out. This site was clearly the best of the almost 300 campsites i have stated in over all my trips. Absolutely invigorating, lessened not one bit by possibility of visits from bears, searching for the good salmon runs nearby.
Looking at this site when i arrived, i could only imagine how empty and trivial life would have be been at home at that exact moment, 7pm, DC time, September 29.
At 4:30, my hope for solitude and tranquility were almost dashed when a German couple, Eddie and Homa, happened by, but they were only taking a break and moving on. Homa played some with Erde, and we all chatted for a few minutes, before they moved on. As they were leaving, i asked them where they were from in Germany. Hamburg, they answered. Erde got her couple of hamburgers after all.
Two more couples ventured by, but decided to move on. Too isolated, they said. And then i was then alone with Erde, my thoughts, and the nearby forest creatures who undoubtedly were watching every move we made.
As soon as we got into the tent after usable daylight was gone, it started to rain, which made an already exceptional night even more exceptions. And it rained all night. Music to my ears.
I can sense Erde getting closer and closer to me every day by her changed behavior. The fear of stepping on Leben's paws by binding with me is no longer there. But bonding with her does not diminish one bit the thoughts of Leben, whose spirit occupies a big place in my day, and probably Erde's too. Oh, how i miss that dog so much.
9pm...loud crashes outside near the tent. Time to make a little, no, a lot of noise.
Photos ....
Single railroad track and memories
Our view in our camp in highest desert in North America
What could have been our camp at Marble Canyon. Splendid. Maybe next time.
Route 99 as it wends its way toward Vancouver
Erde inspecting things on a rest break, which we took every 45 minutes on this spectacular highway 99
Our absolutely spectacular camp site on Goat Creek....this site was the best of the 300 sites i have stayed in over the years. Heavenly is too weak a word
The view to the right of our cozy campsite.
The arrangement of our tent, in case you are wondering. When i get back home, I will professionalize this diagram.
Ed and Erde, On The Road
P.S. Sorry for any errors in this message or posting. The iPad spellcheck is not known for its attention to detail.
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