“Why the [expletive] [expletive] isn’t the server running!” I yelled internally in the Prince George library. During the workweek it’s very difficult to tell that I’m on a road trip. The days from McBride to Smithers were a prime example of how work has been coming first even as I put in miles (errr kilometers) across Canada.
You get up around 5:20am at the fishing launch on the Holmes river just 7 miles outside of McBride. Florida time, aka work time, it’s 8:20. You pierce the fog into McBride and find the cafe run by a hilarious couple that love their classic rock radio station. Think Ozzy Osborne over the speakers as you hack away setting up a new web app environment over an orange ginger tea – you love it of course. 6 hours later and you’re just about at your limit for sitting in one place capacity, so you close up shop and blast 2 hours down the highway (seeing another bear) to Prince George and find another coffee shop, put in some more solid coding time, and get to a good stopping point.
Some might find the above scenario stressful, but I’ve really come to enjoy it. First, it forces me to make the most of my internet time and it’s done wonders to creating a hyper-efficient mentality, because as much as I value my current job, I also want to make the most of where I’m at. So on that day in Prince George I had arranged to crash on a couchsurfing host’s couch, something I hadn’t done for a few year now. And boy how I missed it. To a certain extent, working during this trip has made me a recluse. Keeping to a time schedule has kept me out of the late night back-slapping dive bars and when I am in a social space, say a coffee house or whatnot, I very much keep to myself to get my work done. Monday was a great break in that pattern, while my couchsurf host attended a yoga session, I went to one of the microbreweries (surprise surprise) downtown and had a chat with the bartender about all the great ski hills in the area. I then talked hours with my host about topics ranging from learning Spanish to, of course, US politics. I may be an introvert but only part time, and it was refreshing to communicate with people outside of my text message and work chats.
After the work grind the following day, I left Prince George in the evening for Burns Lake and stumbled upon a recreation area. In Canada, these are usually free or very cheap campgrounds similar to BLM land in the US. Amazingly, I still had great cell coverage, which meant I was able to spend the next day with my wifi hotspot working out of the back of my van. There was a tadpole hatching that covered the entire shoreline with thousands of hope-to-be frogs. I considered how they would complement a meal for a bit but after a quick Google search decided my stomach just wasn’t ready for amphibian meat yet.
I followed the Yellowhead highway to the town of Smithers and set up shop for the day. There is a public forest on the nearby mountain and I decided to take a quick, post-work stroll through the woods. It’s amazing how many public recreational facilities exist in Canada and the level to which they are maintained is excellent. This trail came complete with a self guided pamphlet and even had a wildlife blind to use for birdwatching. I had a little bit of extra time that day so I decided to make the most of it by setting up my drum kit to be sure it hadn’t been damaged in the previous 3500 miles. Link to video.
A father and son came by later that evening to drop off supplies for the public, non-profit nordic ski program and we got to talking about the fires along with other things British Colombian. I mentioned I was headed up the Cassiar Highway and without blinking an eye, their tackle box was conjured up and they began gifting me lures for the revers I would encounter and the best spots I should go to try my luck. Canadians really are some of the most outwardly kind people on the planet.
Finishing up work on Friday I headed west on Hwy 16 and turned North on the Cassiar (Hwy 37). At one of the rest stops I began a conversation with a bike touring Spaniard, brushed off my rusted Spanish, and got a few laughs talking about his adventure coming from Alaska. Hearing about the ride made me want to unlock Brucey (my own touring bike that I took to pick up the van) and ride the rest of the highway without being dependent upon demon 87 unleaded.
I was treated to a spectacular sunset show that evening as the grey, overcast clouds turned to a burning orange and for the first time on this trip I began to feel like I was finally entering the northern reaches of the continent.