The journey North, part 2

As a Brit, you feel like you know all about rain (and certainly this year) but, as the West Coast of British Columbia is one of the world's last remaining temperate rainforests, when it rains here, it can be a monsoon-like torrent which has the added bonus of being really quite cold.  This exact combo is what greeted us on our arrival in Bella Coola; undeterred we set off on a 'bear-fari' to see if we could spot any of the large population of black and grizzly bears that inhabit the Bella Coola valley.

BBB

Our second BBB

We struck gold with BBB score of 3 (Bears Before Breakfast) and 1 BAB.  As the road is fairly quiet, and the locals pretty disinterested in bears, the black bears were happily munching dandelions and we got some good snaps.  Then it was time for 'the Hill'; until the 1950s the government proclaimed the mountainsides between Bella Coola and the Chilcotin plateau too steep to build on.  Locals took matters into their own hands and built the last 65km themselves, with up to 18% grades and too steep to tarmac properly it is an exciting gravel drive with unfenced sheer drops to the valley beneath.  Kat and I maintained a calm silence (yes I know, it was a challenge) as Mark honked the horn round every hairpin bend...

No sticking plaster visible

Into the wilds
The Hill conquered we arrived at Nimpo lake to greet our pilot, Tim, sort our gear and board the 1955 Beaver floatplane to Turner Lake, our home for the next two days.  The clouds cleared enough for him to see the lake and drop us off at the small beach, by the three basic log cabins.  As the buzz of his engine faded, it was replaced by the less friendly buzz of mosquitoes, a LOT of mosquitoes.  Mark secured over 50 bites on his left shoulder alone (through his clothes) and went into mild shock for the next hour or so as his body released a ton of histamine. 


George, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned by northern BC's most popular insects.  Sent to 'clear up' the camps and hiking trails of this enormous park every year, George had huge knowledge and affection for the park and immediately bundled us into a canoe to check out the next lake along, the trail replete with moose and bear droppings...

The picture of the trip?

We unwisely chose a meal which required us to be outside cooking for at least 10 minutes, 9 minutes longer than it took the mosquitoes to find us, but were rewarded with the incredible sight of a full moon rising in twilight over the mountains and lake.  Even George said it was a first for him in the park, so I think a total of 57 photos between us was reasonable...

Planes, boats and ...jettys?

Mark steadies the jetty

The rest of our stay was spent zooming around in George's kindly lent motorboat, canoeing and helping George and Tim chainsaw the cables from and move a jetty (for complicated reasons we all ended up 'riding' the jetty as it was towed through the water, not the most aerodynamic of vessels).  The park has had a tough time over the last five years; forest fire, the mountain pine beetle epidemic and floods in 2010 have made the park less accessible (hence the float plane) and made the trails tougher to navigate.  These calamaties have led to a vicious circle of less visitors means less investment in trails and facilities which means less visitors etc.  But if you're lucky enough to be there, it means that you really feel you have the enormity of the park to yourself. 

So a brilliant stay, now for the final flight over the mountains out....

The journey North, part 1

Actually, it wasn't very far North.  When we came, we thought we'd 'explore Canada' - then we realised, actually, it's not just big, it's vast.  So we thought we'd focus on our own province of British Columbia.  But turns out that's pretty big too, about the size of France and Germany combined.  So now we're mainly focussing on southern BC, where people happily drive 2 hours for a nice lunch...  And in that context, although it was an 8 hour drive back to Van from our most northerly point, we still would only have covered the first quarter of the province. 


So the journey.  We planned to copy BC Ferries' vacation route 'the Discovery Coast circle route' pictured left, travelling on two ferries, one float plane and up Western Canada's most notorious road 'the Hill'.  With the ever adventurous Kat game for the challenge (but with an Arbuthnott family gathering to return to at the end) we had an ambitious 6 day timeline...


Leg 1:  Vancouver to Port Hardy

Celebrating no rain, yet...

Ferry number 1 took us across to Vancouver Island with the regular beautiful Friday night sunset on display.  A quick stop at a family campground and we were off up the eastern coast of 'the island' to picnic with my ecologist cousin, E. C. Pielou, who took up sea kayaking at 75 and once woke up in her tent on the arctic tundra to find a wolf gazing in.  Always an inspiration, she updated us on her latest book project and after a bird-filled beach hike, we said our goodbyes to carry on up the coast.  

Our first taste of the remote north was the sign proudly welcoming us to Port Hardy and setting out their priorities underneath 'fishing, logging, mining'.  Our second taste was the panic induced when the BC Ferries port staff asked Kat for her photo ID (passport sensibly left safely in Vancouver) and informed us she couldn't travel without it.  Eventually, in true laid back West Coast style, Kat just signed a declaration that 'I, Katherine Arbuthnott, am Katherine Arbuthnott.  Signed: Katherine Arbuthnott' which served as her passport for the next two days on the 'Queen of Chilliwack ferry'.


Leg 2:  Port Hardy to Bella Coola 

Still no rain!

The last time Kat and I visited a fjord together it was Milford Sound, NZ, and not only could you not see the snow capped mountain peaks surrounding it, you couldn't even see 5 metres in front of your face.  Combined with one of the worst months of June weather in western Canadian history, I was understandably nervous about what the weather gods would bring...

Kat's pretty excited re: no rain

The first night on the ferry was therefore a real treat, incredible views back over to the mainland, the snowy peak of Monarch mountain (see more later) towering over the skyline, and a lacy network of inlets and islands before us.  The night didn't prove so serene; a stern warning over alcohol was delivered; a couple's romantic liasion on the deck resulted in being escorted from the boat the following morning by the Mounties; and the ferry stopped dead at 5am to allow 4 sea kayakers a 'wet launch' into an empty bay.  We slept in the solarium on the floor (no beds provided on the 2 night journey), the stars overhead and the sound of the engines lulling us to sleep (well sort of, mainly just being really noisy).  

Klemtu 'big house'

We spent Sunday cruising up and down the coast line, dropping off people and goods to the tiny and unbelievably remote First Nations communities along the coast.  With no roads to them, no shops and no restaurants, it shouldn't really have surprised us that at our most northerly point, Klemtu, 103 of the 300 inhabitants boarded the ferry as visitors to have their regular Sunday night dinner in the cafe.  Reliant on fishing, some forestry and eco-tourism, most of the communities are trying (actually fairly successfully) to keep their young people from leaving for the big smoke.  But given that if you forget the milk on your monthly  shopping trip to Port Hardy (2 day return journey) I can understand why it might be attractive to leave.  

Yay, our first whale tail!

We, of course, spent a lot of time combing the ocean's surface for whales, although happened to all be dozing when the first humpback whale was announced.  We saw 6 or 7, most very obligingly doing 'the tail thing' just ahead of the ferry.  Bald eagles were a regular, as always on the coast, but our first golden eagle, with juvenile, was a real treat.


The weather turned, later than anticipated luckily, so we spent the second night sleeping in the lounge, waking up at 5.30am to a very rainy Bella Cool, pysching ourselves up for... the Hill...

A tale of two journeys: The South

4000km covered, two mountain ranges crossed and a LOT of big trees. The Jeep has performed admirably on 17 days of travel on two road trips: south along the washington and Oregon coasts to California and north along the misty fjords of British Columbia. 

The South

When Nikki said her only free week was early June, my colleagues' warnings about the potential for  'Juneuary' rang alarm bells. With huge amounts of snow across the western mountains this winter, any kind of hiking was out as many places still had avalanche risks. So with Nikki's Canadian cousin Shelagh on board, we planned a journey along the famous (well, in these parts anyway) Oregon coast; long sandy beaches, rocky bluffs and plenty of wildlife.

A complex visa waiver run in with the US authorities was avoided thanks to my boss's timely warning and Nikki's disarming British chatter.  Torrential rain on night one luckily wasn't represenative of the trip (although the other night of rain did necessitate a retreat from the tent to a yurt) and there were plenty of highlights:

- Incredible long, sandy, undeveloped beaches with tons of picturesque driftwood and rocky out crops. Leftie liberal Oregon decided to keep its 350 miles of beaches public and much is protected as state parks.

- Yet again the vindication of my incessant questioning of locals re wildlife opps: rewarded with immense star filled tide pools, huge colonies of seabirds, seals and sealions and lots of teetering on slippery rocks

- Beer (oregon is the microbrewery capital of N America), ice cream (where else to celebrate Nikki's birthday but with 57 flavours) and everlasting home made cookies

- First encounter with US police in the form of a speeding ticket for Nikki (okay, maybe more of a lowlight for her bank account) in Kurt Cobain's home town - once you've left Eugene as quickly as you can its not hard to see why he was so miserable

- An unexpected sense of remoteness; in crescent city, CA, you're 350km from the nearest big city and cut off from the freeway by the mountains.  They don't follow baseball or ice hockey but the local little league soccer and it felt like the whole town, all generations, attended the trivia night.

- And finally: our first encounter with a real life US marching band, replete with trombones, baton spinning and glitter outfits.

So much fun was had by all in the journey south.  You can check out the photo album here:  Oregon highlights

Next instalment covers the journey north...