Vancouver to Telegraph Creek – September 3rd to 9th

On the first day of my travels I drove almost a thousand kilometers, putting distance between myself and Vancouver. Around Cache Creek I saw a sign for a café advertising internet. I stopped – they wanted 5 bucks to connect. I drove on. Tried another place. Same thing. Saw a McDonalds in Quesnel advertising free internet. Stopped and ordered a coffee and a muffin and chatted for about an hour. If it was anything other than McDonalds I would have had more. Those other places lost my business. I can’t imagine there are many people paying the 5 bucks to connect. People that in a hurry to get online just connect through their cell phones.

I felt like I was in something of a trance state on the drive. I went through some highs where I felt euphoric, in control, master of my destiny, some lows where I felt discouraged and alone, indigent, without a place to sleep or get warm. In Quesnel I was able to get ahold of a friend where I could stay the night. I arrived just around midnight. She left early in the morning to work and I got up and got ready to drive on. I took it slowly, made myself breakfast and took a shower. As I left I realized I may have let one of the cats out. The house stood some way back from the street and was surrounded on all sides by woods. I thought it would be paradise for a cat but then this cat was geriatric and I was afraid he would be in danger from birds. I didn’t know what to do. Felt terrible. I left a message and then drove on.

The friend called me up a few hours later on the road and said: “Ethan. I haven’t seen you for six years and you lose my cat.” My stomach dropped. “Just kidding!” she said. I had been one hundred percent taken in. Apparently the cats are completely independent and come and go as they please. As it should be with cats. That was a great relief.

In Smithers I stopped to pick up a hitchhiker, a man a few years my senior, on his way to Moricetown in Wet'suwet'en country. On the way out of town we passed some kids – two guys and a girl – also hitchhiking. I nudged the guy and said “She’s cuter than you – guess I should have picked her up instead”. A shadow passed over his face and he said nothing. Later I saw a sign warning women not to hitchhike on the highway of tears and I winced. 18 women, mostly first nations, disappeared hitchhiking between 1969 and 2006 on what has become known as the highway of tears.

That night I went to Terrace, for the first time I can recall, and picked up some items at the wallmart. I would like to support local businesses but if you do you have to order things. I am in the habit of just buying what I need immediately and have ceased planning ahead as much. Outside of a major center like Berlin or Vancouver that becomes difficult and the only places you can do so are large chain stores.

I stayed in a provincial campground, setting my tent up in the rain. It is easy to set up and a pretty comfortable size so I’m pleased with that, though the vestibule is too small. The next day I got up fairly early and drove to Kitwanga and had a relaxed breakfast before heading up highway 37, the leg of the journey where I feel the north really begins.

Cranberry junction I saw the turnoff to Aiyansh and the lavabed park. I decided, what the hell, let’s give my little golf a test on gravel roads right now. So I drove the 50 km. gravel road to Aiyansh and made it just fine. I took a couple of photos of the totem poles of the Nisga'a first Nation welcome there and then headed back the way I had came. I picked up a guy on the way from the town to a camp just up the road and he told me he picked mushrooms and sometimes made upwards of $700 a day. He was a really interesting young guy and later I realized it would have been good to interview him. Too late.

Back over to the paved road and left back to my journey north to Bell 2 and Meziaden where the paving changes to unpainted seal coating – a kind of smooth, solid highway which isn’t as permanent as paving but is far more solid and dust free than gravel. Basically it’s like a paved road but has smaller shoulders, no lines and it’s sometimes a little rougher. To me it’s the harbinger of civilization though.

In Bell 2 I met a German fellow who laid floor in Bonn for a living and was in Canada for his 4th time or so. I would have chatted longer but I wanted to hit Iskut before it was too late, as I hoped to stay with friends there.

Along the way I saw bears four times – once was a mother with two cubs. I wasn’t able to get a really good photo, although the mother and cubs were very close. First I saw the mother crossing the road, then a little cub scuttled across the road and scampered up a small tree. The mother took a threatening stance, looking back the direction they’d came from. Another cub appeared on the side of the road and started to cross, then smelling or hearing me, started up the road away from me and also away from his mother. I was worried a car would come around the corner but he then ran across the road and back down toward his mother and the trio disappeared into the woods. I think what was most interesting to me was to see how the three interacted, the first cub knowing it’s job was to find a tree, which he was up in no time. Then he ran down and into the woods just as his sibling was getting to the other side and the mother took the lead. I guess there was some grunting and growling to communicate but I couldn’t hear very much.

In Iskut I enjoyed the hospitality of old friends who also got me up to speed on some of the developments in the area. The Northwest Transmission Line (NTL) is looking very certain as is the Forest Kerr run of the river hydroelectric project on the Iskut tributary. The Red Chris copper mine is waiting for some reliable power source – obviously the above two projects could play a major part in it going ahead. Meanwhile they are continuing to explore, drill plan and complete different assessment requirements, including environmental and social, economic, cultural impacts on the community.

The day I was in Iskut there was a fatal vehicle accident near Gnat Pass between the Stikine Bridge and Dease Lake involving two drillers at Red Chris who were staying at the Tatogga lake lodge. The road was closed for several hours until the coroner could come and investigate. This opened a discussion regarding the culminative impacts to the community. The two drillers were allegedly on an alcohol run to Dease Lake and were likely intoxicated, according to speculation in the town. At any rate, drinking and driving amongst camp workers was known to be a problem. “It’s already started.” Someone said and there were nods of agreement.