North from Vancouver

On Thursday morning I got an early start and left Vancouver, heading west to Horseshoe Bay, and then up the Sea to Sky Highway (99), which has just been almost completely rebuilt to get athletes and spectators to Whistler, where the alpine events for the 2010 Winter Olympics will be held. All along the route there was frenetic construction activity, putting the finishing touches on the ramps and landscaping. The road surface was superb, and made for great motorcycling in a landscape strongly reminiscent of the Norwegian fjords. Whistler Village is also being finished up – and it really is lovely (if a tad high end – it’s clear that after the games these buildings will not be used for social housing!). I was lucky enough to talk to an excellent advisor in the information center (B.C. does a fantastic job of providing help to tourists) – he told me to continue on 99 through Pemberton, and to pick up 97, the main route north through B.C., just north of Cache River. Although 99 east of Whistler hasn’t been resurfaced in 15 years, and is rather rough, he said, the views are spectacular. Right he was – it was like spending three or four hours driving through Yosemite – giant granitic batholiths reminded me of Half Dome. In Pemberton, I took a quick turn onto the airport road to see if I could get a good view of an incredibly steep river valley I had noticed off to my right, and stumbled onto the most beautiful golf course I’ve ever seen. It looked more like Shangri-la than a country club – the beautifully manicured and landscaped greens and fairways backed onto the abrupt rise of the mountains, with the hanging river valley in the background.

Once on 97, I was surprised at the amount of traffic and the level of services provided. I had expected to be at the back of beyond, but instead this road, which roughly goes up the Fraser River Valley, was filled with ranches, lakes, parks, and other signs of active economic activity. True, there were places where one could find a “no services for next 90 km” sign, but this only happened twice. I made excellent time, keeping up a steady 65 mph (and getting about 48 mpg in the process, thanks to a steady tailwind). I ran into some rain, but it was manageable, and finally stopped in Quesnel, which was the head of navigation on the Fraser River, and the jumping off point for the Canadian gold rush back in the mid-19th century. I used the 800 number listed on the map, that I’d been told by my information person in Whistler really worked quite well – 1800-HELLOBC. I was quickly connected to a live human being, and got the numbers of several motels in my price range. I wound up staying at the Caravan – and it was superb. Quiet, friendly, comfortable, free high-speed wi-fi – hard to beat for the price! The owner told me I really ought to take the time to go up to the historic town of Barkerville, about 45 miles east of Quesnel. The town was the site of a major gold strike by one Billy Barker, 1862. Today it is both preserved and rebuilt, and serves as a living history museum on the gold rush. I was quite impressed – the buildings have been redone without a lot of commercialization, using period items from early in the 20th century (towards the end of Barkerville’s heyday). Billy himself died a pauper in Vancouver in 1895. Interestingly, the tone of the reconstruction was somewhere between that of Presbyterian Church in McCabe and Mrs. Miller and the set of the recent HBO series, Deadwood. As with both of those, there is quite a bit of emphasis on the Chinese presence in the west -- they formed the backbone of the labor force.

After motoring back down to Quesnel in the rain, I headed north to Prince George, where 97 crosses Highway 16, the Yellowknife Highway, which runs from Prince Rupert in the west through Edmonton and into Jasper National Park. I headed south and west, through a driving rainstorm.

I quickly found that having just raingear on isn’t enough when it’s chilly out (which it often is in heavy rain). My riding suit is mesh Kevlar, intended to pass plenty of air. Having a waterproof liner on underneath it means all of that air is available to evaporate the water on the liner, cooling things down considerably, and chilling me to the bone. I had to stop in the rain and put on my electric jacket liner, which finally warmed me up. Lesson – get the gear on before taking off if it looks like rain. You can always take layers off if necessary. After fixing the gear, I was able to ride about 200 more miles to the town of Smithers, at the foot of some glorious snow-covered mountains. That’s where I am for the night.