Prince George — Smithers

I’m now on the Yellowhead Highway. Vanderhoof, Burns Lake, Houston and Smithers are my stops in this segment.

Vanderhoof

My stove quit working right last night, and I couldn’t find the tool to fix it with. But this morning I discovered a small box of spare parts that I overlooked yesterday. The stove repair kit that I needed was in it. I’ll fix the stove later. I’ve also been keeping an eye out for canisters that fit this stove (a story for the future). I have not seen any here in BC. It’s a good thing I took my old gasoline fired stove instead.

The ride from Prince George was tough. It rained and sleeted on and off, with strong headwinds. On top of that, the shoulder of the road was not paved. I had to get on the gravel shoulder and wait when traffic came from both directions. I’m now at Vanderhoof, which is 819 miles from home, or 68 miles per day. It’s 385 miles to Prince Rupert from here. Or as they say around here, “Rupert.”

The campsite is beautiful. It adjoins a waterfowl sanctuary at a wide spot on the Nechaco River. It is full with snow melt, so the ducks, geese and swans seem to be somewhere else on the river. The caretaker came over to tell me about the amenities here and in town. I’ve decided to stay over another day to rest and catch up on domestic chores.

There was more rain and sleet this afternoon, then some sun. I got my gear reasonably dried out, took a shower and went to Main Street to eat. My notes say it was a nice dinner, and that I had a good night’s sleep (up at 5:30).

The sun is shining on my day off, so it’s time to put things in order. I cleaned the cogs and put on the new chain that I bought in Prince George. Next, I fixed my stove. In the process, I found that an “O-ring” was cracked. I wasn’t surprised. I’ve used that stove on many backpack trips. No problem though. The repair kit had an O-ring in it too. My panniers (bicycle luggage) also needed to be fixed to keep more of the water out.

Then I went to the mini-mall that the caretaker told me about to get my hair cut. I wandered around town in the afternoon, and met a retired jewler there. We had a nice long chat. He is 70, and does a lot of fishing. Of course that’s a principal sport up here. I mentioned the recent rains, and he guaranteed they were over for a while.

Burns Lake

Time to get on the road again, headed for Burns Lake. I have a nice tailwind. The black flies (blood sucking pests) are out in numbers. Stopped at a KOA campground at the lake, because it was getting late. It was a bit primitive, but OK. Rode four miles to Burns Lake (the town) for groceries after setting up camp. The next day I am going to Houston.

Houston

Right after I rode through Burns Lake the next morning, I ran into the black flies again. I was riding up a steep hill at about 5 mph, with a 5 mph tailwind. In other words, the flies were drifting right along with me, and nibbling away. After a while I reached the top of the grade, picked up speed, and left the flies behind. What a relief.

The ride to Houston was interesting. I stopped at a restaurant at Topley that was just getting started again. I was the only one there. The new owner asked me where I wanted to sit. I asked her where she wanted me to sit. She said, “Anywhere you want to sit.” So I sat at a big table that was where I thought it would be convenient for her.

Presently an older woman came in and sat down across the big table from me without saying anything. Eventually she said, “Well, it finally got warm.” I told her how cold it had been in Vanderhoof, and that I was glad it was warmer now. We talked a while, and then two more women came and sat at the table. Then the first woman’s husband came in, and joined us. Evidently I had picked their usual table, but that didn’t deter them. My notes say we had an interesting conversation, but I remember nothing about it.

I soon left to start riding again. About five miles out of town, I met another bicycle tourist coming toward me. I crossed over the highway, and we had quite a talk. His name was Thane. He was around 30, and was using money from a voluntary severance agreement to travel. He started in Homer — on the Kenai Peninsula southwest of Anchorage — and rode up to Fairbanks. Then he rode to upper BC on the Alaska Highway, and down the Cassiar Highway to the Yellowhead highway where we met (about 2,000 miles).

Thane was on his way to Vancouver, BC where he would join his brother and ride to San Francisco. From there he hoped to ride all the way through Mexico, Central America, and Chile to Tierra del Fuego (if his money held out). It would be summer down there if he made it. There’s not many people who would ride for six to eight months.

Houston is a small town: “Where the welcome is warm and the wilderness beckons.” There is no water at the campground, so I went for water at the senior center in town. I met a resident who was from Denmark there, but I don’t remember his story. I had couscous and chili for dinner. I found it was easy to fix, a good combination, and satisfying. I plan to ride to Smithers tomorrow.

Smithers

Smithers was established by Swiss immigrants about 100 years ago, and is now a tourist destination. The town requires buildings in the downtown region to have an alpine theme. That ties in with Smithers’ world-class skiing. (When I was there, there was still a lot of snow on the ski mountain, which is right out of town.) Residents of Smithers are called Smithereens.

I went to the Town Center to find out where I could camp. The campground is a half mile out of town on the Bulkley River. After setting up camp, I went back to town to find a bicycle shop. My headset (bearings for the fork) was still not stable. The owner and I talked about touring while he did what he could to fix it. He wouldn’t take any money, so I thanked him profusely. (The steering worked better, but not for long. I eventually used duct tape to make it stay fixed.) $nbsp; 😀

A bunch of rowdy locals, like the ones at 100 Mile House, were at the campground when I got back. Louise and Bob (not rowdy types) came over to talk, and offered me a beer. They have a cabin up on the Babine River, which is famous for steelhead fishing. It’s about 100 miles away, and they get to their cabin on a river boat. They have spent a couple of winters up there too. (The beer tasted very good, and the locals’ loud music didn’t keep me awake.)