On the ride back to Nanoose Bay way we stop at Duncan, billed as the town of Totems. Yellow footprints on the footpath lead us to about 40 magnificent totems depicting eagles, loons, man, fish and whales. It’s all very impressive.
And we stop at Chemainus, the town of the murals. This was a logging community and as that industry dried up the townsfolk invited artists to paint the town, literally. It seems to be an idea that’s paid off. The murals depict life in the town over the years and we’re all drawn to the First Nation people — it’s like they are looking deep into your soul.
•
Back in December we were contacted through our webpage by Vancouver Island biker Greg Neufeldt. He says he was put onto us by a twitter follower of his. Twitter? That’s something we just don’t understand, but we’re intrigued. We Google him — seems he’s worked in places like Kandahar and rode the bike for Claudio of Long Way Down fame, while he filmed a doco in the Americas. It’s a pity he can’t join us for a ride around the island tomorrow.
•
Vancouver Island boasts some amazing roads and brilliant scenery. We spend a long day on the road from the east coast to the west through the forests, over the mountains, past rivers crashing over rocks and down to the sea at Tofino. Just out of Nanoose Bay there’s a cafe with goats grazing on the roof. We sail past with the promise to stop on the way home.
Cathedral Grove is home to a giant Douglas Fir tree, nine metres around the girth. It’s colossal. At Sproat Lake there are the massive Catalina flying boats converted to water tankers and used to fight forest fires. We don’t realise how big they are until we see one parked at the back of the base with a bus parked under its wing. They’re monsters.
The road takes us around a lot of good corners and I’m very impressed with the new tyres, even though there is a bit of tyre roar from the front wheel.
We end up at Wickaninnish Bay. There’s driftwood piled high on the beach with a sea mist clinging to the sand. It’s the perfect location for a murder mystery — very atmospheric.
By the time we get to Tofino the mist is clearing, revealing the most magnificent day. Some mist hangs around the valleys, the sun glistens on the water and the sky is the bluest blue. Each day we’re on the road in this western area of the Americas we see the most wonderful scenery. We’re blessed but not when it comes to seeing the goats grazing on the roof. They’re tucked away in their shelter when we get back at the end of the long day.
Shirley: Brian’s lost another filling, the second in the last couple of weeks. It’s time to visit yet another dentist. We know we’re in a first world country now. The dentist is good but there are no kisses here. It costs nearly $400 for the two fillings, and our travel insurance won’t cover it. Oh well, I think I prefer Brian to have his teeth, no matter what the cost.
•
At last we get to meet Greg after months of email communication. His pleasant face beams a welcome when we meet at Adrenaline Motors. He’s a good natured and interesting bloke who’s worked for Doctors without Borders in Africa. He’s a nurse by profession and doing an electrician’s apprenticeship at the moment so when he does another posting with Doctors without Borders he can lead the mission — you need to be multi-skilled to do that.
We really enjoy our time with Greg and there’s one thing I’ll be forever grateful to him for and that’s introducing me to the chocolate Boston donuts at Tim Horton’s. This Canadian coffee chain is everywhere and I can feel a regular treat coming on.
Brian: We’re on the road again and it’s the last major dash to Alaska. On the mainland we take the Sea to Sky Highway to Whistler. The road is brilliant with the water of the Inside Passage on one side and the mountains on the other. Wow!
Whistler is manic so we don’t stay long — the road is calling. Along the highway we see our first bear warning signs, but no bears.
This is a fantastic road — sweeping curves rather than tight turns and beautiful scenery around every corner.
•
We need to slow down to wait for Ken and Carol who are a day behind us so we set up camp at One Hundred Mile House on Highway 97. At dinner in the local bar we meet two Alaskan girls on BMWs. They have good local knowledge to share like the free campground at the Harley shop in Anchorage. All bikers are welcome — even BMWs. Shirl’s going to be used to camping by the end of this trip.
Shirley: Our camping gear is great. Sleeping in the tent is so comfortable. We have a cooker but not much else. Ken and Carol cook toast on their burner and are happy to share.
On the road to Prince George we see some other bikers at the Tim Horton’s. While Brian and Ken talk bikes I introduce Carol to the joys of the chocolate Boston donut. — yet another oral delight.
We turn onto the Yellowhead Highway and now the bear warning signs are joined by moose warning signs. Plenty of signs, but no bears or moose.
At Smithers we set up camp again. We’re now just one day’s ride from the finger of Alaska that runs down the western side of Canada. Not only should we see bears there, at Hyder, we should see them fishing for salmon.
The Smithers campground is run by the council. It’s right on the river and the Babine Mountains look down on us. The only drawback is the mozzies. We’ve been warned about them and the bearers of the bad news weren’t exaggerating. They’re so big they could carry you away.
But there’s plenty of firewood and we’ve got a good bottle of red. The four of us sit around the fire and talk well into the night.
Tomorrow we’ll be sleeping in Alaska.
Catastrophe strikes
18 – 27 July 2012
Shirley: Finally we’re heading to Alaska — the last frontier! This will see us complete the major leg of the journey from Circle to Circle.
It’s not that far now. We’re about 100 kilometres from Kitwanga and the road to Hyder, Alaska.
Travellers love a good sign. There are plenty in Australia — the longest straight, the Tropic of Capricorn, the most eastern town. At the junction of the Yellowhead and Cassier Highways there’s a sign that says it all — North to Alaska.
We’re 237 kilometres from Stewart and the USA border, 240 kilometres to Hyder and just 201 to the Bear Glacier. This is a real milestone.
After the obligatory photos we’re heading north along the Cassier when disaster strikes. We’ve travelled about 250 kilometres from Smithers when the back of the bike feels like it’s dragging along the road.
Brian: We’re cruising along about 95 kph on the lookout for bears. Apparently they graze beside the road up here. Ken and Carol are behind us. All of a sudden the bike starts to sag at the back end and then there’s an almighty grinding sound, the back wheel locks up as the whole rear of the bike collapses onto the wheel. I’m sure we’re going to end up sliding down the road. I grit my teeth, brace my arms and ride it to a halt, coming to a stop with a screech of things grinding and the back wheel locked up. I know it’s not good before I even get off the bike.
Ken pulls up and says, ‘Shit that was amazing! Bits and pieces flying everywhere! Have you blown a tyre? Is it bits of rubber?’
I wish it was that simple. When I look at the bike it’s clear what’s happened. The rear shock shaft has snapped in half, pushing the shock and spring into the plastic rear hugger I put on to protect the shock from mud. That’s disintegrated and it’s bitten into the tyre. It’s a bloody mess, to put it mildly. The whole rear of the bike is resting on the back wheel. It’s something I didn’t expect to happen; it’s an Öhlins Shocker — the best money can buy.
This bike isn’t going anywhere. Out here there’s no mobile phone signal. Thank goodness for Ken and Carol. They keep heading north to try and find a tow truck for us. We know there’s a campground about 16 kilometres away and they should have a phone. At worst Stewart can’t be more than 100 kilometres away.
There’s nothing we can do but wait. A few other bikers come along and pull up to see if we’re alright. There’s nothing they can do for us, but it’s
great that the camaraderie between motorcyclists lives on.
Standing alone on the side of the highway the silence is deafening — the only sound is the buzzing of the mosquitoes driving us crazy.
We haven’t been waiting long when a British Columbia Ministry of Transport vehicle pulls up. ‘You look as though you’re in a bit of trouble,’ says the woman driving. ‘You do realise you’re in the middle of bear country, don’t you?’
We’ve been so preoccupied with our predicament we hadn’t even given that a thought.
Shirley: Sherrie Applegate is our saviour. This no nonsense woman in her 50s is great in a crisis. She seems used to being in charge. She talks to colleagues on the radio and they say it will cost about $600 to get the tow truck to come and get us from Stewart, but there’s nothing in Stewart. Her advice is to go the 250 kilometres back to Smithers. Sherrie is going back there and would love to give us a lift, if only she could get the bike into the back of her pickup.
She radios a road gang who are working on the highway and soon there are three burly blokes on hand to help us out. The easy part is getting the tailgate off the pickup so we can use it as a ramp. But we still have to get the bike onto the tray.
While we’re standing around with everyone offering up ways of getting the incapacitated, heavy bike into the back of the pickup I notice something about Sherrie. The mozzies don’t bother her at all. What’s her secret? She doesn’t eat bananas after March. Old wives’ tale or scientific fact, it certainly keeps the mozzies away from Sherrie, while I’m being eaten alive.
Brian: Wade, one of the road workers, should’ve been in World Championship Wrestling. Even though we’ve taken the luggage off the bike it’s still really heavy, well over 200 kilograms. Wade lifts the back of the bike as if it’s a toy. He lifts and I wheel it towards Sherrie’s truck on the other side of the road. We line it up with the makeshift ramp. With two of Wade’s co-workers’ help we manhandle the bike into the pickup. I use some tie downs to secure it, load our bags into the back seat and we’re off.
Shirley: One of Sherrie’s colleagues, Paul, gets on the radio and finds out a tow truck has been booked to come and get us. Luckily it hasn’t left yet, so he cancels it.
So, we know Ken and Carol got to a phone, now we need to get in touch with them to let them know we’re on our way back to Smithers and not continuing on the road to Stewart.
Wade is dispatched to find them. We haven’t gone far before the two-way radio pipes up with the news that Ken and Carol will meet us back at Smithers tonight.
What good friends. We wouldn’t have blamed them if they’d gone on. We’ve come 250 kilometres from Smithers and were so close to Alaska. To turn around is amazing. They should be heading on to Alaska but they’re coming back for us. It’s a wonderful gesture. We know that to have a couple of friendly faces around will be a big help.
The broken shocker is a serious problem. We don’t know how we can get back on the road or when. There’s only a small window of opportunity to get above the Arctic Circle in Alaska and we don’t want to miss it.
On the way back to Smithers there’s a bear on the side of the road. Unfortunately all I can see is motorcycle and luggage. There’ll be other bears. Well, there better be!
Brian: It takes us about two and a half hours to get back to Smithers. Sherrie knows Steve Graf at the local Harley Davidson dealership. He seems to be very used to bikes being trailered in — bikes that haven’t made it to Alaska.
With the help of the apprentice and a strong ramp we get the bike out of Sherrie’s pickup. The broken bike is slashed onto a pallet and that’s forklifted into a huge storage shed at the back of the dealership. This gives me a chance to check out the bike and, fortunately, there’s no structural damage. We’ve been bloody lucky. It could have speared us off at nearly 100 kph. Once we get a new shocker we’ll be on the road again.
Winter is harsh at Smithers. In summer the dealership is all about motorcycles. In winter it’s all about snowmobiles and they’re stacked out here in the shed.
Steve says he’ll ring a dealer in Vancouver tomorrow morning and get the part flown up. It’s Wednesday today. Hopefully it will arrive on Friday morning and we’ll be on our way.
Sherrie takes us to the Fireweed Motel, which she and Steve assure us is a good, value-for-money place. There’s only one room left tonight. It has two double beds and Ken and Carol are happy to share. It’s like having a sleepover.
Shirley: We need to be on the road to Alaska not trapped here.
Ken and Carol spend another night with us, hoping we can ride off together again on Friday morning. When the shocker arrives it’ll only take half an hour to fit.
There’s not much to do here, but the people are incredibly friendly. Thursday morning and Sherrie swings by on her way to work to make sure we’re okay. She brings some delightful hand-drawn cards she’s made of the bears. A little gift for me because I didn’t see the bear yesterday.
Brian contacts Steve Cramer at Öhlins in Australia. It’s unrealistic to expect them to send a new shock all the way to Canada but they need to know we have a problem.
The news from Steve at the Harley shop isn’t good. The shocker has to come from the US and he’s not sure when it’ll get here.
Bless him, our new friend Greg on Vancouver Island offers to pick up the part and deliver it to us. That’s what the motorcycling community is all about. We’re moved by this generous offer, but refuse. We don’t want to put him out and we don’t know where in the US the part actually is.
It’s Friday morning and we bid farewell to Ken and Carol. It’s clear we’ll be here for a while and they want to get moving, and we don’t blame them. They’re not sure which way they’ll go now. There are two good roads in the far north: the Dawson Highway to Inuvik, and the Dalton to Prudhoe Bay. We plan to take the Dalton up past the Arctic Circle to Prudhoe Bay at the very top of the world, if we ever get the bike back on the road. Ken and Carol now think they might go to Inuvik. Hopefully we’ll catch up with them somewhere.
Sherrie’s on a day off and offers to take us to New Hazelton in the heart of the First Nation area. We travel along the Yellowhead Highway, that’s been dubbed Highway of Tears by the locals. In the past 18 years about 36 women (all but three of them First Nation women) have been abducted and murdered while hitchhiking. They’ve only found half of the bodies. There are big posters on the highway about how dangerous it is to hitchhike — the dead and missing are depicted as angels. It’s all very scary. Hard to believe girls still hitch along this road.
On the way back to Smithers we visit Kispiox, another First Nation community with scores of totems along the riverbank. It’s an impressive sight. On the outskirts of the town there’s a new totem being carved. Men are building a canopy over a massive cedar log. We stop and talk to the chief, William Blackwater. This new totem will tell the story of his clan.
William introduces us to the totem carver who’ll be classed as a master carver when he completes this totem. He tells us the piece of cedar comes from a hilltop 18 kilometres away. There are wonderful trees closer, fallen logs in the forests, but the government won’t let the people take them for totems or fuel. There’s a distinct anti-government attitude here.
On the way home we get a clear view of the Seven Sisters. Smithers might not be the most cosmopolitan town to be stranded in but it’s scenic in the extreme. It’s a harsh environment, even in summer. There’s a hiker missing in the hills outside of town. He went on a day hike a month ago and hasn’t been seen again. It’s bear country — we’ve been warned.
•
Thanks goodness for Skype. With free wifi we spend a lot of time talking to friends at home and others we’ve met on the road. Nicole and Christian tell us they’re heading to Alaska and will slow down so they can meet us in Fairbanks. They think Jens and Kati will be there too. There’s still a chance we can all travel to the Arctic together. This news brightens our day. It sounds like a good plan, as long as we
get out of here.
Brian: Another day goes by with very little to do. We buy a waterproof bag to carry our camping gear and will send home the top box. This’ll take 10 kilos in weight off the bike. We’ve heard from Steve that the new shocker is going to cost CAD $1,100 plus tax and we’ll have to pay for the freight.
I’d planned to send the broken shocker home and get it fixed so we can recoup some of the costs. This won’t be happening. Öhlins want to see the broken shocker so they can work out what happened to cause it to seize. We have to post it to Sweden by airmail and they’ll reimburse the postage costs.
While we wander aimlessly through the town we bump into Steve from Harley and he clearly feels sorry for us. He offers us one of the bikes from the shop for the weekend. At least we can get out of the motel room and see some of the scenery.
It’s Sunday and we head off on the long ride to Prince Rupert on one of Steve’s Harleys. The scenery is amazing — mountains, trees and raging rivers. There’s snow on some of the taller peaks, waterfalls cascade down the cliff faces and the reflections in the water are breathtaking.
This is the Skeena River, the river of mist. We stop at Moricetown and watch some of the men fish in the traditional way. First Nation people are allowed to fish for salmon using nets but they can only take fish of a certain size, and no females. There are a couple of rangers watching, keeping a tally of the fish. It’s an incredible process. The water rushes over the rocks with such ferocity if you fell in you’d be doomed. The fisherman is tied with a very sturdy rope to the rocks. He hangs precariously over the edge of the rocks and swings his net at the salmon making their way upstream.
Shirley: When we get back to the motel we’re exhausted. The Harley isn’t as comfortable as our bike and it’s been a long ride. It doesn’t have the screen like the BMW and Brian’s beard is blowing around, driving him nuts. He suggests an elastic band. I suggest a pair of scissors. It’s been a 10-hour day and just over 700 kilometres. It’s been great to get out of the motel and onto the road, even if only for a day trip.
Circle to Circle Page 18