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8-3 THUR
Wake a little before 9, we're nearing Prince Rupert. I feel like
crap. Get into PR after being last to leave the boat, wait through
customs. I shop and run out of town to eat at rest stop. Decide I
should get ice, gas and take a dump so I retrace my steps. Then
run out along the Skeena River. Nice but cold and overcast. Stop
here an there. I'm tired so I find a campground 55 miles out
called EXCHAMSIKS RIVER. Think it over before I decide to
stay. I get out my tent and look for a good pitching site. The
drive is elevated a dozen feet above the natural floor. It's all
hardpan gravel without any spot for a tent. There are big trees
all around. A spot below looks good so I begin to set my tent up.
Then the attendant, actually I think it is his kid, comes by and
says that I can't put my tent up down there, it must be on the gravel
pad. This is ridiculous. Some big deal about the liability if a tree
limb decides to fall and hit me on the head. Geez, does it matter if
I'm laying on the gravel of the forest floor when that happens? It's
impossible to get the tent pegs into the packed gravel with hand-sized
rocks. I am so pissed I can't take it. But I'm too tired to go anywhere
else. He retreats as I boil, $%&*ing BC Parks, $8 and rules! We're
out in the middle of nowhere and some pencil neck 500 miles away
who has never camped out in his life is telling me... Finally I
cool down enough to use the nail trick and pound pilot holes into
the ground and secure my tent on their precious gravel pad soaked
with drip oil from cars and RVs. It's a $%&*ing drive way you
idiots! Some outdoors experience. Truly quality stuff. I was
realizing my return to civilization would take some getting used
to. I fumed, cooked spaghetti and read by campfire light. I'm sure
that was probably illegal too.
8-4 FRI
It rains and rains. Finally, during a lull I get up and pack. I
figure I'm already wet so I may as well go see what's further up
river. Wearing all of my rain gear works, the sun slowly breaks
out near Terrace. I go buy film and eat. Then I continue the run
but fining nothing spectacular I begin my return. I stop at a park
and dry my tent and write. Then move on stopping here and there. I
think about a BC Provincial Park CG 12 miles out but opt for the
free shower at the Park Ave. campground in Prince Rupert. I meet
Frasier Crikinlaw, a beemer. Cook more spaghetti and take a shower,
then swap no-see-ums. Cutter's doesn't work!
8-5 SAT
You don't need an alarm clock. Car doors slam, RVs roll by. I
break camp and get into line. They put the bikes on first. And
they provide tie downs and chalks. We pull out of PR and head
south. I wonder around and talk to the bikers., tell them my story
and listen to theirs. Eat the buffet lunch, it's deluxe and all
you can eat. I chow down. Good price, okay meal. Hang out, write
and read. When we arrive at Port Hardy I'm off, go directly to
WILDWOOD CG, site #1, pitch the tent in the dark. Rookies come in
on jap bike and entertain me as they try to set up their tent.
8-6 SUN
Sleep in till 11! I needed it. Everyone has gone except the kid
picking up the garbage, he's singing high pitched and out of key,
it's a laugh. I check out Port Hardy and go shopping, get gas, and
head up the road. Cool mountains but lots of clear cutting. Almost
have to help biker- his old bike is barely running. Gas in
Campbell River, then run up to STRATHCONA P PARK, great bike road.
First camp is full, go to RALPH and get next to last site! Huge
trees.
8-7 MON - LAST DAY
Run up to end of road, find big zinc, gold and silver mine, wonder
around and find some color. Run back down hill and then Vancouver
Island. It is British Columbia Day- a big holiday so the place is
a zoo. RVs with all sorts of cars trying to pass them. I give up
on my plan to go out to the beach at Pacific Rim NP. I go to
Nanimo and catch the 6 p.m. ferry. The Angles are having a big
party. From Horseshoe Bay I follow 99 south. Canada doesn't have
super highways- it runs right down through the city, down
Grandville, light after light. The sunsets and there is a quarter
moon. Nice night. I go through US customs pretty quickly. They got
a hot tip. I go to Bellingham and stop at McYiks. It's only an
hour to home. You know, you go three thousand miles and you have
thirty to go. Nothing bad has happened the whole trip. I've been
very careful. I'm running along at 65 mph, the traffic is light.
Out of the dark I see a light figure, ghostly. No, it's a dog, a
golden retriever, I'm on the brakes, turning left. NO! It's the
wrong way, the way he is walking. I turn to the right, he stops.
I'm out of time. I hit him square in the side. You have time to
think how stupid this is. As the bike is torn out from under my
hands, flipping over on its side, up-side-down. I'm sailing
through the air, flying at 60 mph. Still time to think this is
something I never wanted to experience again as I hit the fast
moving pavement. I hit on my right arm and hip. It burns. I skid
and begin to roll over, this isn't good and I put my left foot out
to stop it. Before I'm completely stopped I'm getting back up,
trying to get off the highway before someone runs over me. I see
this isn't going to happen and I pick my duffel bag as I look at
my bike still sliding finally to a stop. I can't believe this has
happened again! Damn dog. A couple of people have stopped and help
me lift the bike. I go an drag the dog off the road, poor pup. I
give him a last pat. I limp my way up to the next exit and stop at
the closed Shell station and tape myself back together. I remove
the lamps and disconnect the broken turn signal. The front end is
screwed up and wobbles between 35-45 mph. I run home and pull in
around midnight. The place is locked but I find a basement door
that is not fully latched and break-in easily. It wakes the cat
and I give her a good petting.
Only 2566 miles put on the bike, one of them very hard.
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Fishing with Les Index
