July 25, 2006 Day 15 – 435 Miles Jasper, Alb, Can – Fort St. John, BC, Can
Jasper, Alb, Can – Fort St. John, BC, Can
Managed to sleep in spite of seeing a bear behind every bush in the campground. Woke up before anyone else in the campground, it seemed, packed up, and started the bike. That probably solved the problem of being the only one awake at the ungodly hour of 6:30 in the morning. I tried to quietly leave, but my bike only does quietly reluctantly.
I stopped mentioning my Close Encounters of the Deer Kind. They’ve become rather frequent, though only one really got my attention since that discussed going into Salmon, ID on day 11. But I’ve seen quite a few close to, or on, the road. A couple were really nice bucks in full velvet. Unhappily, I haven’t had any Close Encounters of the Dear Kind.
Saw very different country today. Left Jasper on Hwy 16 toward Edmonton, taking Hwy 40 at Hinton toward Grande Prairie. As a map will show, this route pulls you out of the high Rockies, and into high pine woods. Deep pine woods. The world’s supply of toothpicks is unthreatened as long a Canada has these resources. I can’t conceive of ever consuming all the wood available up here. This route adds a new definition to the word remote. You see nothing but pine forests and steep ups and downs for ninety (90) miles, before coming to Grande Cache. I don’t know what was cached out here, but whatever it was is likely to still be there. The connecting road to Grande Prairie wasn’t completed until about 10 years ago. It is about 115 miles. It’s a beautiful ride but the sameness of the pine forests creates some problems. I had difficulty keeping focused on driving and got very sleepy a couple of times. It can get rather monotonous.
Believe me, this place is so remote they'd welcome Genghis Khan.
Grande Prairie starts what I’m coming to call the “working man’s scenery” of the great northwest. The main roads are paved but everything else is good ol’ chunky gravel surfaces. The dust is pervasive, gagging in places where the side roads parallel the main highway. Because of this everything seems to have a gray tinge to it. I remember an F. Scott Fitzgerald short story about the coal country of West Virginia which described such an abounding “grayness” around everything. I wonder if he visited this area? Anyway, took Hwy 43 west to Dawson’s Creek.
Ninety (90) km later I’m at the beginning of the Alaskan Highway. Mile zero (0) starts in Dawson Creek. Didn’t get overly emotional about it, kept on rolling through there to Fort St. John 43 miles further down the road. Pulled in here looking to find a laundry and a decent room. I’m batting .500, got the clothes done in a very nice laundry. The hotel leaves much to be desired. I tried a couple of the chain motels and one had only one room available (with a Jacuzzi) for $275/night. I wasn’t that interested in a Jacuzzi so I passed. The others all were a little too proud of their rooms so I rode into downtown and found one which “almost” passed muster. Rate? $79 Canadian. I expected Mickey Spillane or Dashiel Hammet to be waiting in my room when I opened the door. This thing is right out of the forties-fifties. They weren't.Hopefully the bed isn’t. (It wasn't).
Managed to sleep in spite of seeing a bear behind every bush in the campground. Woke up before anyone else in the campground, it seemed, packed up, and started the bike. That probably solved the problem of being the only one awake at the ungodly hour of 6:30 in the morning. I tried to quietly leave, but my bike only does quietly reluctantly.
I stopped mentioning my Close Encounters of the Deer Kind. They’ve become rather frequent, though only one really got my attention since that discussed going into Salmon, ID on day 11. But I’ve seen quite a few close to, or on, the road. A couple were really nice bucks in full velvet. Unhappily, I haven’t had any Close Encounters of the Dear Kind.
Saw very different country today. Left Jasper on Hwy 16 toward Edmonton, taking Hwy 40 at Hinton toward Grande Prairie. As a map will show, this route pulls you out of the high Rockies, and into high pine woods. Deep pine woods. The world’s supply of toothpicks is unthreatened as long a Canada has these resources. I can’t conceive of ever consuming all the wood available up here. This route adds a new definition to the word remote. You see nothing but pine forests and steep ups and downs for ninety (90) miles, before coming to Grande Cache. I don’t know what was cached out here, but whatever it was is likely to still be there. The connecting road to Grande Prairie wasn’t completed until about 10 years ago. It is about 115 miles. It’s a beautiful ride but the sameness of the pine forests creates some problems. I had difficulty keeping focused on driving and got very sleepy a couple of times. It can get rather monotonous.
Believe me, this place is so remote they'd welcome Genghis Khan.
Grande Prairie starts what I’m coming to call the “working man’s scenery” of the great northwest. The main roads are paved but everything else is good ol’ chunky gravel surfaces. The dust is pervasive, gagging in places where the side roads parallel the main highway. Because of this everything seems to have a gray tinge to it. I remember an F. Scott Fitzgerald short story about the coal country of West Virginia which described such an abounding “grayness” around everything. I wonder if he visited this area? Anyway, took Hwy 43 west to Dawson’s Creek.
Ninety (90) km later I’m at the beginning of the Alaskan Highway. Mile zero (0) starts in Dawson Creek. Didn’t get overly emotional about it, kept on rolling through there to Fort St. John 43 miles further down the road. Pulled in here looking to find a laundry and a decent room. I’m batting .500, got the clothes done in a very nice laundry. The hotel leaves much to be desired. I tried a couple of the chain motels and one had only one room available (with a Jacuzzi) for $275/night. I wasn’t that interested in a Jacuzzi so I passed. The others all were a little too proud of their rooms so I rode into downtown and found one which “almost” passed muster. Rate? $79 Canadian. I expected Mickey Spillane or Dashiel Hammet to be waiting in my room when I opened the door. This thing is right out of the forties-fifties. They weren't.Hopefully the bed isn’t. (It wasn't).
posted by Minuend | 4:04 PM
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