It’s not shorts weather

Stewart Glacier, B.C

Day 22.

3,174km travelled.

We're officially three weeks on the road, already tipping into June. The trip started out slow, but this past week feels like it flew by with the wind. I guess the same can be said for any chapter in life where you finally find your flow.

As I write this, I'm sitting in my camping chair perched at the top of a random fsr in the middle of the Stewart-Cassiar highway, overlooking a huge mountain range that spans the entire river valley. We've just come from Stewart, but I'll get to that later. For now, let me backtrack to the beginning.

Week 1: Chilko Lake

After leaving a wonderful weekend celebrating a good friend's birthday in Jesmond, Tom and I travelled north via the Dog Creek FSR past Chimney Lake, up to Williams Lake. After chatting with a local in the bike shop, we explored trails on Fox Mountain and DeSous. DeSous has a beautiful 8-site campground at the base of the mountain with a large communal area in the centre. We had the place to ourselves, so we enjoyed our first camp shower. Nothing like cold water dribbling out of a giant collapsible bag to make you feel fresh… and oh, so hardcore.

From Williams Lake, we headed west along Hwy 20 in search of the local First Nations Band office in Tl'esquox, where we asked for permission to venture to Chilko Lake. We'd heard through the grapevine it was protocol to ask. The chief didn't mind, though we felt better for it. Tl'esqox is your classic First Nations community, with run-down houses scattered across the hillside and what looks like over 200 abandoned cars. The Band Office itself, however, was a modern, rather large, well-designed building that would have looked right at home in Whistler among the million-dollar properties. The polarity was abrupt, but probably not uncommon.

Tsilhqox Biny, also known as Chilko Lake, first takes you through Farewell Canyon before entering the Provincial Park. The canyon is a mini version of the Gorge, if you've ever been: romantic, rolling farm country on either side, rising up above a deep, narrow river valley.

After a couple of hours travelling through farmland and hundreds of acres of cut block with planted trees ranging from 10 to 20 years old, we entered Chilko Provincial Park. The landscape changed dramatically here to mountain tops still covered in snow, and wild horses roaming the hills. Chilko Lake was everything you'd expect a Canadian lake in a Provincial Park to be: stunning views, a soft breeze, bitching cold water temps, and endless, calming quiet.

As we were sitting around the campfire that evening, we heard a strange thumping noise repeating itself every few minutes. After a bit of searching the nearby bush, Tom spotted a Ruffed Grouse just a few yards from our site. Take a look at this video to see what we saw. He continued his mating call well into the night. Endless quiet, indeed.

Week 1 set the tone for everything that followed: slow mornings, unexpected detours, and the simple realization that a little planning, and a lot of not, has taken us exactly where we were meant to go.

Week 2: Smithers & Terrace

After stocking up on groceries and water, we left Williams Lake for Quesnel, having made our way back from Chilko via the 20, after a final night at Tatla Lake. A future bucket list item of ours is to drive the Alexander Mackenzie road from Quesnel to Bella Coola, so we did a little reconnaissance and drove to the start of the trail, then veered north along the Blackwater fsr, which took us through a network of side roads up to Vanderhoof. Aside from a short stretch along Hwy 20, we hadn't touched pavement in nine days. Our goal was to do as much of this trip offroad as possible, and the network of connected trails between Vancouver and Smithers made that easy.

Quesnel is a quaint town with a friendly downtown core. A night's stay at the downtown RV campground, right where the Fraser and Quesnel rivers meet, came with a free visit to the local rec centre. The hot tub and shower were an unexpected indulgence I revelled in more than I expected. So far we'd been making rather quick dips and shrill-filled splashes into chilly rivers and lakes to wash ourselves. As a result, I’m dirty pretty much every day.

I originally had visions of Tom and I spending most of this trip in shorts, basking in sunshine and dipping into lakes without hesitation. HA. How naive. It's not yet summer, but the further north we go, the less likely shorts seem to be worn at all.

One of our favourite campsites of this stretch was Natelsby Lake Rec Site. Located on a small outcrop of land, the 8-site campground was beautifully cleared, spacious, very picturesque, with large pine trees scattered throughout. Because it's almost an island, the lake wraps around the entire site, putting every spot close to water. We've had every rec site to ourselves so far. We may be lacking warmer weather, but the same can be said for crowds.

As we made our way from Vanderhoof to Burns Lake, we diverted off the highway onto another offroad route around Francois Lake. After a beautiful night watching the sunset from our lakeside campsite, we took the free ferry across that links up to Hwy 35, up to Burns Lake. I highly recommend the detour.

Burns Lake is nothing to rave about as a town, but for such a small community, the bike trail network at the base of Boer Mountain was impressive. Much like DeSous, Boer has a lovely free campground at the base of the mountain next to Kager Lake. We met a friendly couple from Whitehorse who offered a hot shower when we roll through in July. 

After a couple days of riding, we made our way to Smithers via another offroad loop out to Babine Lake. The campground at Red Bluffs Provincial Park is run by the friendliest, classically Canadian ranger you'll ever meet. Dave, who spends quite a bit of time alone with his three giant dogs, was not short of conversation. His park was impeccable: freshly cut grass, raked campsites, wood on hand. My kind of guy. He had no shortage of stories about idiot campers, bear encounters, and wildfires that thankfully never turned tragic. The beavers at Babine were something else entirely, taking down full-sized trees like it was nothing!

I’ve quickly come to realize there are many things we packed that we may never use. A first aid kit, it turns out, was not one of them. Only an hour into carving his first masterpiece, Tom cut his thumb… and I heard "Fuck! Anna!" while I was in the tent typing away. About half an hour before it happened, I'd stopped myself from saying "please be careful." Hmm. Maybe next time I won't bite my tongue. Though I don't think there will be a next time?

Week 3: Stewart

Smithers is a delight. To me, it's a lovely combination of Squamish and Pemberton. A ski hill close by with incredible backcountry access, surrounding farmland, and a quaint town with a vibrant but relaxed vibe. We were treating ourselves to coffee and carrot cake in a café when a local approached us: "Are those your bikes on the back of that truck? I'm a biker too." That simple question grew into a half-hour conversation. We met his wife and grandson, were invited back to his house, offered showers, and given space to work on our bikes. Walter, an incredibly fit man in his early 70s who doesn't look a day over 55, wanted nothing more than to share his love of Smithers with two strangers passing through. He recommended a couple of trails; Tom, thumb still healing, was gracious enough to shuttle me. I recommend Huckin'eh for anyone who visits.

Our next main stop was Terrace… a very different vibe than Smithers, being a much larger town filled with big chain stores and no high street. Not what I expected. But what Terrace lacks in character as a town, it makes up for in the surrounding mountains and access to terrain. We drove up to the top of Copper Mountain on the edge of town. The trails there are steep, playful, and so well built. Packhorse is a gorgeous flowy blue for those who want the beta.

Terrace also gave us one of my favourite campsites of the trip so far: the RV campground on Lakelse Lake, about 20km south of town. We spent two days basking in 27-degree heat, lakeside, reading our books and taking some much-needed time out of the truck. As we sat enjoying the sunset, which, by the way, now happens at around 10:30pm, a bald eagle landed in the tree right next to us. First Mr. Grouse, now the bald eagle? Honestly, I think Tom is a bird whisperer.

Leaving Terrace, we made a detour down to Gitwinksihlkw, a small First Nations community, and rode a lovely trail they built called Leaping Lizard - a fantastic flow trail you can find on Trailforks. After a dip in some local hot springs, we made our way up to the Mezadin Junction. The RV campground there has electric fences around the tented sites because the grizzlies are that frequent. At this time of year, the only other campers we see are retired folks driving their big RVs. Envy feels a bit like the black sheep, standing out amongst all the retro white boxes. 

Hwy 37A takes you out to Stewart, past the famous Bear Glacier, and yes, with a name like that, you can expect bears. Both kinds. We were five minutes into the drive when we came around a corner to find two large grizzlies chowing down on grass at the roadside!

Stewart was a pleasant surprise. One of the oldest towns in the region, with the original hotel dating back to the early 1900s, it's home to about 500 residents and has this bright, colourful, rustic feel. While camping at Clements Rec Site just north of town, we met a mechanic who offered to help Tom replace a wheel bearing on Envy. We took him up on his offer the next day and turned up to Preston's home, also known in town as Grumpy Bear Repair, for a quick assist, finishing the job together. Random encounters like this are what make a place stick. 

Our bikes caught the attention of yet another local, who wandered over to mention he'd just finished building his own trail a few hundred metres south of town. We followed his instructions, hike-a-biked to the top, and felt genuinely honoured to ride something so clearly built out of love for the sport. No, it's not on Trailforks, but if you're ever in Stewart, keep an eye out for a curly-haired Frenchman named Louick.

What makes Stewart so unique is its proximity to the Alaskan border and the southernmost town of Hyder. We day-tripped out to the famous Salmon Glacier, crossing into Hyder, Alaska, back into BC, then climbing steeply up a mountain until the snowline hits and the glacier appears a kilometre below you, a huge, ancient expanse of ice. One of the biggest I've ever seen. There's something quietly humbling about being close to a glacier, knowing it’s been there, shifting ever so slowly, for thousands of years. I feel so small and insignificant in comparison to how long it has been on earth.

After Stewart, we made good progress north on the Cassiar, with a detour to Telegraph Creek, which sits next to the Stikine Provincial Park. The landscapes here are ever-changing — we've left the tree-planted forest far behind and now feel genuinely closer to alpine, with smaller trees and huge fire breaks on either side of the highway. Telegraph Creek changes once again, with mountains morphing to flat plateaus, abruptly cliffing out to a deep canyon river valley. It feels like Utah.

Tomorrow we're heading for Atlin… a town recommended to me since we started planning this trip. We're getting very close to the Yukon border now too. The excitement is high.

Every day feels new and the same, all at once. We wake up to coffee and slow mornings, navigate fsr’s as they appear on our maps, make only a day's plan at a time, then simply sit back and see what we see. Find what we find. Meet who we meet.

After spending a year planning and thinking ahead, I now barely think further than tomorrow.

Turns out, that's exactly far enough.