Buenas
Dias, compadres. Although we’re in Canada, we thought it was
about time we rehearsed some Spanish in anticipation of more
southern regions soon to come. Dos cervezas y dos Mezcales
reposados por favor. It’s all coming back. Con Gusano or sin
Gusano, that’s the question.
We
are about to leave British Columbia, after 12 days and 3000
kilometres in Canada, bringing us to a proud total of almost
5000 kilometres so far. We spent a couple of days in Whitehorse,
capital of the Yukon Territory (that’s where Dagobert Duck
made his fortune during the Klondike Gold Rush of 1898….),
where we met Ashley Rhodes, an Englishman who had just come
from Ushuaia aboard his GS 1100.
After
leaving Whitehorse, we met in rapid succession a french couple
aboard an old CB650, on the road for 2 months, and a couple
in a safari truck, Pam and Klaus, who have been travelling
for over six years, with 9 more years still to go. We spent
the evening and the following morning together, leaving them
with the hope of meeting again in order to hear some more
of their quite extraordinary travel stories.
Following
recommendations from various people, we took the Cassiar Highway
(as opposed to the Alaska Highway) on our way south. The scenery
was spectacular, the gravel was slippery, the weather was
awful and the people encountered along the way were great.
Even the bears were friendly. We saw three of them, two on
the Cassiar and a third one close to Hyder, an Alaskan enclave
in British Columbia, known for its strong liquor and for its
wildlife. The two bears we saw along the Cassiar did little
more than sit on the side of the street and disappear as we
got closer (although not too close).
The
third one was somewhat more exciting : We were riding toward
a place called Fish Creek in order to see the annual salmon
migration taking place. As we were driving along a very potholed
gravel road in pouring rain, something that appeared like
a reasonably large grizzly bear made its appearance on the
street.
I respectfully stopped the bike and started digging for my
camera when ze Teddybär suddenly started taking a few steps
towards me (Ellen was guarding the rear at an even more respectful
distance). As the weather was simply too nasty for heroism,
I turned the bike halfway around in case the bear didn’t know
that his species usually doesn’t attack mine, and by the time
this little misunderstanding was cleared out, he had taken
his leave, leaving us with a photo of the bushes he had disappeared
into. Pity.
The
riding on the following days, as we crossed the southern part
of British Columbia, was pleasant and uneventful. The Canadians
do not seem to have the same idea of political correctness
than Americans do. One billboard along the Highway tried to
lure visitors to a town called Barkerville by inviting them
to “Come sleep with us”. A few miles down the road, a Motel
billboard stated literally “ I wants you in my beds”. Friendly
place, British Columbia. We’re now on Vancouver Island, heading
towards Seattle where we will spent the rest of the week.
Since Ellen lived in Seattle for 12 years, the forecast for
the days to come is rather stormy. Wish me luck.
We’ll
be back.
M & E
map
(click here)