After a sleep in the community campground of Kitwanga, I decided it was in my best interest to continue heading east down Highway 16, The Yellowhead highway, with the eventual goal of Prince George, BC. Highway 16 also known as the “Highway of Tears” has a grim history of 32 mysterious disappearances of women on an 800km stretch over the past 40 years. Billboards are everywhere warning not to hitchhike, encouraging safe transportation practices. Someone graciously offered a mailing address for me to send bike parts and equipment to, which was very pivotal on my decision on not heading to the Yukon – I could no longer deal with the cheap sunglasses I was using, and desperately needed some more Merino Wool socks, some lube, and a new chain. Along with these I ordered a new pair of the sunglasses with a few lens options for different light conditions qualifying for free shipping.
My “routine” got the best of me on the day I left Kitwanga, and I struggled to make any sort of distance after setting off at noon. I became distracted along the way with the sun poking out of the clouds, offering breathtaking views of the of the Seven Sisters mountain ranges, and vista points overlooking the upcoming Bulkley valley. Friday afternoon brought along a new set of challenges, with eager drivers looking to get home as fast as possible, so I went off the course and headed into the historic town of Hazeltown, 14 km off the road, where the Bulkley and Skeena rivers meet. The history in this small town of 1400 dates back to the 1860′s where it acted as the gateway for the Omnineca Gold Rush, and housed the only hospital for those seeking medical assistance within hundreds of miles around. The Grand Trunk railroad allowed this town to flourish in the early 1900s with its plans to pass through the area.
Unfortunately, a huge chunk of the town was undergoing construction for its older roads and infrastructure, which limited access to many of the old original buildings and attractions. I instead stopped and talked to a busker outside the liquor store about growing up in the area, and about difficulties of getting out of the area and starting other careers. I offered a beer for his time and in turn was serenaded with a few songs from his guitar. The area also offers a breathtaking view into a canyon by means of a single lane cable bridge which sways from side to side offering a few nervous moments while crossing.
After the traffic and highway road construction died down, I didn’t make it farther than the new part of Hazelton before stopping to make myself a quick dinner. I was hoping to reach Smithers by dusk, a lofty goal of almost 60km. 5 young girls who weren’t any older than 6 were playing in the park, causing troubles in the bathrooms (pulling all the toilet paper, kleenex, and paper towels out spreading them everywhere) continually asked me questions as to why I would be doing something as silly as riding my bike so far, and repeatedly telling me I had far too much stuff packed on my bike. It’s true, Kids do know what they are talking about 
I chatted with them for a while, gave them a few cards hoping they’d remember the moment down the road. They gave me a bracelet and a hair tie, which, well, I suppose I’ll have to grow my hair out to use (We are getting to be pretty long so far however).
New Hazelton offers a grim look at history – the area where the most violent shootout in BC has ever occurred. This was 96 years ago – when 7 robbers stole $17,000 from the Union Bank on payday, for the employees working on the railroad (which coincidentally the last railroad tie was being struck that day 180 miles away). One of them got away, and 3 were killed in gunfire, leaving the others to rot in New Westminster for 20 years for their involvement and a robbery the year before of the same bank. Energy levels started to droop further and I made the decision to stop in Moricetown, BC for the night, knowing there was a municipal campground nearby that wouldn’t charge me fees, and I’d have a chance to rest up.
With a plan to wake early and move forward to my planned distance of 144km to Burns Lake, sleep was minimal, and I awoke to near freezing temperatures, paired with a sore throat. I cleaned up camp and moved forward stopping for a few photos and views of the Moricetown Canyon, still used to this day by locals to trap fish with long nets. It didn’t take long for my throat to become worse, and I stopped in Smithers for another meal, some medication and a brief internet browsing session Smithers Safeway.
I made decent time in the afternoon on the well paved roadways, until I had the joy of climbing Hungry Hill, a 844m gutwrenching steep rise to the summit, offering a lone sign telling the story of the “Phantoms” in the area – Grizzly Bears. A 1012lb grizzly bear spent years eluding capture decimating farmers livestock population before finally being trapped by a snare in 2001. When conservation officers came to capture the bear, it broke free, lunging towards them hungry for more blood. The officers were able to let off one shot each evading death by 7 paces. Farmers were safe once again, until it wasn’t long after – 4 years to be exact that more carcasses appeared. Another Grizzly was found, and caught nearly 4 years to the day of the original capture, this one with a hefty weight of 975lbs. The sign warns of rumors of another “Phantom” awaiting to strike. I took it as a sign to move forward.
Tens of thousands of trees stood tall along the highway, on the way to Houston BC. The area is currently struggling, under attack by a natural predator, the Pine Beetle. Overpopulation of Pine trees, and single species planting techniques by the forestry companies are allowing these pristine areas to turn into wastelands in a short amount of time. Larvae and eggs are surviving our abnormally warm winters over the past few years causing the population to explode. The beetles use the bark of the pine trees to house these eggs, limiting water and nutrients to reach other parts of the tree, forcing the needles to change colour from green to red, eventually falling off. If the trees aren’t harvested immediately, they are of little use to to markets and pose an extreme fire risk. Once breathtaking viewpoints have been reduced to bare unsightly sites of stumps, forcing animals out of their natural habitat competing for space in new areas, often resulting in more sightings in residential areas, or attacks on humans.
I’m often honked at, waved at, even flashed every once in a while. I make a point to smile at every car that passes, often receiving something in return. I had just entered the perimeter of Houston, BC when an oncoming car got my attention, turned around and waved me towards the approaching shopping centre. Curious, I followed, but somewhere along the line lost the driver in the process. I figured they were motioning me towards the Super Valu, and I took it as an opportunity to pick up supplies for dinner. When I exited, I noticed an RCMP vehicle close to where I was parked. While I loaded my panniers, I was approached by the Constable driving the vehicle, asking me questions on my bicycle, and my hometown origins. It turns out, he was quite interested in touring himself, and even shared the same Surly Long Haul Trucker bicycle as me! He seemed very informed of the equipment available for touring, and mentioned he was planning a trek for 3 weeks in July, following some of the exact routes I had taken and were about to undertake. I showed him the book I am using to assist in planning my routes, and offered it to him when I was done.
Eventually we ended up in the local restaurant sharing stories of past careers, bicycle touring, and a quick glance at my photos. I had mentioned I ordered a set of glasses to Prince George, when he noticed a photo of me wearing the ones I lsot. He said he had a brand new pair with extra lenses if I wanted them, and we arranged for a trade of the route book. I’ll deal with the return of the ordered s
hades once I get to Calgary – Funny how things work out, must be related to the Kermodei bear I saw a few days earlier. I spent 2 hours talking with the officer, and his partner sharing discussions relating to computers, biking, and overall leisure – with me curious as to the life of an RCMP officer, and what sort of antics they regularly had to deal with in a small town of 1,700. Houston has struggled in the past few years due to a death of a prisoner while under arrest in the RCMP detachment which obviously made these fine fellows lives a bit more difficult than they should be. It was getting dark, and the 30km I had to go to Topley was out of the question and I asked the officers if they knew of a place where I could camp without people harassing me at night (including members of the law banging on my tent telling me to leave heh heh), and was shown a great location close to the Police Station, Skate Park, and Bicycle Trails. 7 youths ranging from ages 12-16 who were pretty good at riding their bikes on the local track stopped to talk to me for a bit about my whereabouts, plans, my gear, while building up a welcome fire for me. These were good kids that kept out of trouble, partially due to the availability of things to do in the area. I grew up in a small town as well, which lacked many amenities resulting in sheer boredom, often getting off by causing trouble. I hung out a bit more with the RCMP before heading to sleep, throat sore, nose congested, and dehydrated, having to resort to sucking drops out of my frozen water bottles in the midst of the night. Apparently it was -5, but did not notice with the efficiency of my sleeping bag and tent. I bviously made an impact on Tim, the RCMP officer, as his mom even emailed me the next day letting me know that she hoped I have a safe journey! Huge motivation boost
The next morning after brushing the frost off my tent, I took full advantage of the Mothers Day buffet. Now 70 km away from my plan, I forced myself forward even though my lungs were screaming with each hill climbed, and poor highway asphalt and shoulder. I had arranged for a place to stay via Warmshowers.org in Prince George for Monday the 10th, but left it unconfirmed due to the lack of available wireless internet, and my phone not working. Since early May my Apple IPhone has constantly showed ‘NO SERVICE’. This is apparently due to the lack of 3G antennas in the area, and the fact that the modem is unable to switch to the slower ‘EDGE’ technology properly. I googled around and found a potential solution by Fido Technical Support.
1. Disable 3G in Settings/General/Network
2. Power off the iPhone by holding the top lock button down then sliding to power off, leave the phone off for 30 seconds
3. Power on the iPhone
4. Reset network settings in Settings/General/Reset
5. Turn on 3G
6. You should be able to find the Fido/Rogers network now
It didn’t work, so I opted to continue moving forward with hopes of getting as far as possible that day, looking forward to the first shower in a week, a roof over my head and the opportunity to shake whatever was brewing in my lungs. Climbing was starting to introduce burning in my lungs, hacking coughs, and what seemed like litres of snot to come out of my nose. 170km later, I just managed to setup my tent and load up on dinner before darkness took over stopping in closed Beaumont Provincial Park for the night.
The last days push into Prince George was difficult, health still going downhill, roads offering little or no shoulder at all, to be shared with semi trucks and trailers. Headwinds stopping me from going downhill sapped energy until well into the late afternoon. The speaker system that I have mounted on my bicycle has helped out tonnes for energy and motivation when my brain isn’t functioning properly, whispering hints for me to stop, curl up in the ditch and nap for a while.
Finally by 7:30 I was stopped at my hosts house, ready to collapse. They noticed this immediately, and loaded me up with a good dinner, sharing stories of the many cyclists they have hosted in the past even speaking of a told me of an old snail-mail list they once belonged to pre-internet managed by someone in California that assisted cyclists worldwide looking for showers and roofs over their head. A Children’s storybook rider, and a teacher for professions, they instantly made me feel welcome in their household, offering me room and board for multiple nights, and even an invitation to participate in a daily yoga class in one of their dedicated rooms in the house. I retired to my bedroom early, soaking my muscles under the hot water shower, charging electronic components, and a failed attempt at repairing my 3G reception by upgrading my phone to the latest OS release. It went faster than I thought as I’ve done the process far too many times, but surprise surprise, nothing changed.
I’ve decided to take a few days off, rest my muscles, and bring down the rosy lobster like colour that I seem to have picked up over the past few days. I’m emulating a raccoon as well – which brings some amusing stares from passer-by’s. I’ll continue east over the next few days and see where I end up. I have a sneaking suspicion that plans will be further altered giving me more time to slow down and not wear myself out as much.
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