DAY 1
I told my wife I was riding with another member of the Black Gold Beemers – the Edmonton area BMW club. This might have been stretching things a bit, as I knew most of the others had left Friday after work, and only had a rumor of anyone heading out (like me) on Saturday morning. The skies were mixed, and the temperatures cool – colder still at 120 kph (about 75 mph).

I filled up the tank at Edmonton’s west side just after 7 a.m., and headed west on Highway 16 (the Yellowhead, named for explorer David Thompson). Two hours later, a stop for breakfast in Edson led to the first chance encounter of the weekend – I met a colleague from my office, taking his son fishing in the Rockies. Slow service meant a one-hour delay till I returned to the road, but that was OK – I needed to wake up! Didn’t hurt to warm up a bit either….

I continued on through the Continental Divide, stopping for a few pictures near Jasper when I saw mountain sheep near the road.

West of Jasper, approaching Mount Robson, the usual happened – rain! Mount Robson is the highest point in BC, and (it can be argued) the most consistently cloudy and rainy. Some claim that only those who have climbed the mountain have actually seen the summit – for the rest of us it’s always masked by clouds, rain or snow.

Shortly after the Yellowhead split (one route south to Kamloops, the other – mine - to the west) it became obvious it was time to try the rubber overboots – while my riding boots were “waterproof”, they had their limits. Several passers-by at Tete Jaune Cache (Yellowhead’s cache) were treated to the comical sight of a man in full riding gear clumsily pulling on ill-fitting rubber covers over riding boots – while trying not to knock the still-running motorcycle nearby off its stand….

This, however, appeared to be the observance that appeased the rain gods – over the next 90 minutes, as I tested the adhesion of the Bridgestone TrailWings, the rain diminished and finally ended – and for the first time, I felt the sun. Nice? Sort of…. The bugs thought so too, and immediately began sacrificing themselves on the altar of my visor!

While fueling in McBride B.C., I noticed a couple of bikes in the area – didn’t think much at the time, but at least one was a BMW I thought I knew. By the time I finished refueling in Prince George a few hours later, I realized I was tight – I was joined by Tracy DesLauriers of the Black Gold Beemers, riding an IronButt-prepped R1150RT, complete with fuel cell, GPS, and Gawd knows what else. Tracy is on the club’s executive, and he is serious about his bike…

From Prince George to Burns Lake we rode together through some really interesting twisties. We reached Burns Lake at about 6 p.m. local time (7 p.m. Edmonton time), and decided on a supper break. I’d planned Burns Lake as an overnight stop, but Tracy decided to make a few more miles. After an enjoyable supper, we departed – Tracy to the road, me to the KOA site I’d booked. Once settled in at the campsite, I took a walk down to Burns Lake and got a bit artistic with the digital camera. The Burns Lake area lived under the protections of a benevolent spirit, and it was a warm and pleasant evening.

DAY 2 "You can run but you can't Hyder..."
I made an executive decision that sleeping in was a valid approach to long distance riding.

I pulled out early, but only in comparison to the sleepy Sunday morning crowd of 5^th wheel and motorhome denizens who dominated the campground. I traveled a fast 4 kilometers into Burns lake, and decided it was prudent to warm my innards with breakfast while I let the sun warm the road. Good decision….

45 minute later, I was heading out to do battle with the intriguing combination of B.C. interior mountain roads, and sleepy drivers with trailers, motorhomes, and station wagons. I tried to maintain an average of 130 kph (80 mph) as I wove my way through traffic, small towns, and construction obstacles (by the way, Canada has two seasons – winter and construction!).

Just over two hours later, I had reached the turnoff point – the first time I would actually go north. Only 240 km to go (150 miles) to the twin towns (villages, really) of Stewart B.C, and Hyder, Alaska….

Mid-morning on a quiet road seemed a good opportunity to open up the motor – so I did. After climbing the hill of the river valley at 130 kph, I smoothed out at 150 kph (about 93 mph) and settled in to make time. I should have listed to Robert Burns – “the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley”.

72 km north of the turn, I moved onto a straight through a small valley. As I looked down the road, a pair of bear cubs (maybe yearlings) broke out of the bush at the left of the road. Both took two strides into the road as I approached, slowing – and then one turned back and the other decided to run straight in front of the V-Strom.

It was only later that I thought about how odd it was that one cub was dark (the ambitious one) and the other blonde (the prudent one), or that I now knew that the reviewers’ opinion of the V-Strom’s rear brake (universally neutral to negative) were deserved. What I was thinking about was that if I hit the cub and dropped the bike, I was going to be faced with one p***ed-off mama bear…. and me trying to pick up a bike with camping gear strapped all over it!

Fortunately, the brakes slowed me, and something sped up the movement of the cub. I nearly put the tip of my right boot as an incentive to his backside, and left the pair of bear behind.

The remainder of the ride to Hyder was much more relaxed (sphincter and all), though I was now in the coastal one, and drizzle and cloud were a fact of life. I rode into town(s), got my bearings, and found the (nearly) world-famous Sealaska Inn. Shortly after pulling up, the grand old man of North American long-distance riding – Ron Ayres – walked up and introduced himself. It was a suitable, old-west style of meeting – “I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy” the song went, and it was clear by the bike I rode and the clothes I wore why I was there.

Day 2 - Evening "Oh boy, do I like bears..."
Ron and I, oddly enough, had the same plan – meet the round-the-world tour group and then camp out overnight. One small problem: the salmon run was in full swing, and there’s nothin’ more swingin’ than a grizzly gorging in preparation for winter. As it turned out, we both ended up bunking indoors with more prudent members of the gathering.

As we waited for members of the tour group to arrive, I was joined by various members of the Black Gold Beemers – all had arrived before me, but most had been taking advantage of the opportunity to see the sights. I took time out to join the Babcocks (friends of our club, from Colorado) and Tracy in a ride up to the bear viewing area. The rangers there chased me into a pen so that I could be safe in the company of salmon-sucking ursines…(see the slide show below!)

A quick shower and change of clothes was all the preparation needed to make a quick run to the Sealaska and meet the members of Nick Sanders’ round the world tour (www.nicksanders.com) as they arrived. The remainder of the evening was the typical story-swapping, bike-boasting, beer-swilling dinner party you might imagine – neat people with interesting stories, and the prospect of both they and we building more soon.

The evening’s pattern was broken by a few rounds of “Hyderization” – a ritual performed for more than 50 years, involving newcomers, 4 to 6 ounces of unknown origin, and a requirement to swallow at one gulp and KEEP IT DOWN!  The English team that led the group in were the first, and when Nick himself arrived later he was coerced into following their example.
At right, Ron (in grey at left) looks on as Nick and one of the female riders undertake the Hyderization process.

No one, other than the late-arriving teams on the tour, stayed up too long; by 11 local (midnight Edmonton time) we were bed-bound.

Day 3 "The loneliness of the long-distance rider..."
Tracy had been kind enough to offer the second bed in his 2nd story hotel room - eminently bear-proof. This saved me from the damp, and from becoming too well acquainted with a grizzly in search of something more substantial than the plentiful salmon. Looking around, it appeared Ron Ayres had taken similar precautions.

We awoke at about 5 a.m. local time, hoping to be on the road in an hour. The fjord-like walls of the inlet conspired with the omni-present coastal clouds to block any sign of the sun until just before our departure at 6 a.m. All of us had fueled up the night before, since the only station in the two towns would be another hour yet before opening. My three co-riders were faster loading up than I, so they went ahead.

A quick stop at Customs and Immigration, and I was back in Canada, and on the road. The clouds began to lift as I wound west up the inlet, and I was soon back with the others. By the time we reached the Cassiar Highway we were under mostly sunny skies, and speeds were slowly climbing as the likelihood of animals on the road diminished. A quick fuel stop 240 km later, and we turned onto Highway 16 headed east.

We put off breakfast until we had four hours riding under our belts; we had already covered over 450 km when we sat down to eat - nearly a third of the distance for those who lived in the west part of the city.

After the break, we began playing tag with the Monday traffic - a mix of travel trailers, heavy trucks, and agricultural vehicles. The other three had left me behind by the time we refueled at Burns Lake, but no problem - I had told them to go ahead as I intended to stop and take a few pictures if the opportunity allowed. For the rest of the ride, I would be pulling in for gas just as they suited up at each stop.

The sun stayed in sight for most of the ride - by Prince George, it was actually becoming hot in the town's traffic and reduced speeds. Construction delays were more common than on Saturday, as the B.C. highway department took advantage of its window of opportunity.

By McBride it was becoming a bit cloudier, and looking towards Mount Robson and the park gates, I could see dark clouds. As I rode past the mountain's base, the rain began - I am now convinced that "Robson" is actually a native name, translating to "bringer of rain"!

Crossing the Great Divide and re-entering Alberta, I encountered off-and-on drizzle, more construction, and two ill-mannered cage conductors - one of whom passed me on a double yellow while using a good chunk of the lane I was in. I was right behind him as he stopped for the next construction zone flagman, and I took a moment to tell him about the rules of the road - no profanity, but some strong words…

I skipped past Jasper and carried on towards the east park gate. Bull elk were frequent sights, and two of them had the biggest racks of antlers I'd ever seen on the species.

It was beginning to rain more heavily as I arrived in Hinton, and I decided a coffee and snack were in order. As mentioned, I arrived at the Husky station just as the others were leaving - my last sight of them for the day. A slice of warm apple pie and two cups of coffee later, I took my bike back out into the rain and the night.

The stretch from Hinton to Edson is a collection of rises and falls through sweeper curves, and it crosses the highest point on the Yellowhead Highway - the Obed Summit. By now, the rain was heavy, fogging my visor and running in sheets across the road. I slowed my pace to the 110 kph (70 mph) of the official speed limit, but kept going as fast as I could. The desire to stay ahead of other traffic and out of their spray was even stronger than the desire to get home and out of the wet.

The rain slackened and stopped after Edson, leaving me just over 200 km to cover. This part of the road is boring, but I was able to make better speed - though I had to stop halfway to clean the post-rain mayflies from my visor.

I reached the west end of the city at exactly 11 p.m., and was home less than 15 minutes later. All told, I'd made the 1500 km run in just a hair more than 16 hours, including the two meal breaks.

All in all, it had been a great ride, and a great weekend - I met Ron Ayres and Nick Sanders, had dinner with some neat people I'd never have met any other way, and saw some wonderful scenery.
--Tony Higgins tonyhiggins@tyhome.net