Leaving Bella Coola was a little later than leaving Vancouver, but the reason for leaving Vancouver early and Bella Coola later was the same….navigating the Hill in daylight vs the dark. I never sleep well the night before any travel, last night was no exception, and I got up earlier than I wanted to. I had mostly loaded things last night, but I still needed to wash the bedding, clean the suite, and remake the bed for the next user. I also wanted to leave maybe a half hour before it got light so it would put me at the bottom of the hill at light. In the end I probably could have left a half hour earlier, but then I might not have seen the two deer past Firvale.
It rained overnight, and was still raining this morning. I was just hoping that the climate here held to its norm with the wetter area being this end of the valley, that also made me drag my heels a bit probably. In the end I probably could have left a half hour earlier and still hit the Hill in daylight, but then I might not have seen the two deer, that ma or may not have been where they’re when I went past, and I might have ended up wearing one as a hood ornament, which is what would have happened if I’d not slowed down to a crawl. Mama was facing the forest but the little one was facing the road. I slowed right down and at the last moment, the young one bolted right across the highway off my front bumper. So yeah….I read that one right.
The Hill had been graded on Monday, and I’d swear it was worse for washboards today than it was a week ago, but going uphill might have made a difference. No one came the other direction, I saw no creatures, and I caught up to one truck, with an “N” sticker. Now that is one heck of a road to learn to drive on!
On the way in it took me 20 minutes to come down. It took me 21 minutes gate to gate on the way out. It had rained, but it wasn’t raining, and the road was easier in some ways since the dust was knocked down, but there hadn’t been so much rain that anything was slimy mud. It was foggy halfway up, and I can say I could see how some would find that a bit unnerving.
One I hit the top I stopped a few times to take some photos of the burnt forest softened by the misty morning, and tried to capture some of the rich and oversaturated colours of the marsh plants as the cooler nights send them into hibernation mode. The light wasn’t great but, in a way, the lack of bright sunlight helped keep the colours from washing out.
At Anaheim, leaving the gravel and hitting the pavement felt like floating on air after an hour or so on washboards and potholes.
I probably passed a dozen spots not eh way in that I told myself I’d capture not eh way out, but I wasn’t counting on the weather. I skipped some as the rain was on and off the entire drive, but I did make myself stop for a few of the old gold rush buildings that seem to become fewer and fewer each passing year, as fire, floods, and vandalism take them.
And cows.
So.
Many.
Cows.
This one had no intention of moving. I kept rolling forward, and it just stood there and stared at me. I ended up driving between the two of them, and it still didn’t move. I stopped right next to it; its nose about six inches from my passenger side window. I stopped, it stared. I picked up my camera and started to roll down my window for a fun shot, but it decided it didn’t like that window rolling down and took a couple of steps backwards, waving its head, so I drove on.
…and found more cows.
I was stopped by cows at least three more times. Not a care in the world did they have. But at least they are predictable and don’t bolt like deer do.
Somewhere along the Chilcotin highway, on a corner, I passed two grouse, equally stationary as the cows were.
I stopped for a few moments alongside the Chilcotin River that, only weeks ago, was completely blocked downstream from here, by a major landslide. I couldn’t help but smile at the two blue chairs where someone obviously sits to enjoy the beauty of the spot on a hot day.
And then it was a long curving road down to the Fraser River below, the Chilcotin is left behind,a nd the Cariboo stretches ahead.
Behind me, the hills are stepped with the little slumps that are common in the area around Cache Creek. I’d seen it on the way in, an excellent and really easily seen example of Side-Hill-Gouger activity, but I couldn’t stop on the road and when I had rounded the corner on the other side and found a safe spot to pull over, I found that the distinctive terrain pattern was only on the south/east side and not the north/west. So I’d made it a point to try to remember to pull over and catch a few shots because it reminds me of my Grandad’s stories and my childhood visit to that funny museum with the water wheel outside of Cache Creek.
I’d fuelled up in Redstone, and then stopped in William’s Lake to top the tank up. Between William’s Lake and Cache Creek I made one or two stops for old Gold Rush period buildings, but after that the rain was off-putting for getting out of the car.
I’d been waffling about turning in at Hat Creek Ranch and taking the Duffy Lake Road home but when I got to the junction the rain was coming down so hard that in about a minute there were two little creeks running down the tracks in the highway lane and the darker clouds were that direction…..Cache Creek looked lighter and brighter. A fill up at Cache Creek, and then it was a straight push home.
More or less.
I knew there was construction ahead, after Spences Bridge and before Hell’s Gate. Bridge work, highway repairs, and a long stretch of paving. Two of those were single lane alternating, the third was complete shutdowns for 15-20 minutes at a time. But the traffic wasn’t heavy and the waits didn’t seem bad. There is something about knowing that it’s only a few hours ahead of me after a really long day that makes me not want to stop. I guess I have more of Dad in me than Mom when it comes to travelling. And once I hit the freeway it was strange to be around so many cars and travelling at such a clip in such close quarters again.
Just before Spences Bridge I was trying to get past someone in one of the shorter passing lanes and the driver braked suddenly, pretty hard. I thought “What the hell are you doing?!?” when I saw the three full-curl bighorn sheep in the very narrow space between the edge of the rock wall and the edge of the pavement. Man…..they are almost the same colour as the rocks and were almost invisible! But that was kind of cool. I haven’t seen them on this road in decades, not since I was a child.
A few bad drivers, obvious city folk who treat the passing lane as a place to hang out without actually passing…frustrating a LOT of people caught behind them, but all in all a good drive home. It took 13 hours to get in, and 11.5 to get out. About 2000km round trip with a lot of physical work in the middle. A good trip that, as always, reminds me who I really work for and why.
And I’m tired.