Day 2 Tatla Lake

Distance Traveled: 438 km

Cumulative distance: 658 km

Top Speed: 127 kph

Moving Average" 91 kph

Temperature range: 17.6 - 32.2

What we counted: Motorcycles between Williams Lake and Bella Coola part "a" 2, one going, one coming!

The first thing I said to Nan when she woke up this morning was, "did you hear the train last night?" Her answer, "every f-ing one". There was a set of rail CP tracks about 50 metres away and CN tracks across the river. I'm sure a train went by every 15 minutes all night long. I know what YOU are thinking, "oh, he's exaggerating" but the reality is that I am not. This was only made worse by the runway landing lights in the parking lot beside our camping area. It made for a short night and I was up at 5:30 am, much to Nan's dismay. Actually,  what was REALLY worse was that the shorts i was wearing at the Legion last night had a heaping dose of beer aroma and I had washed them out before bed...and put them out to dry on the small pillar next to our tent pad. When we checked into the campground, I had asked if we could set up our tent on the grass rather than the gravel pad. I was told we had to be on the pad because of the irrigation,  which i took for a euphemism for "no".  Well, the irrigation was turned on a good portion of the night and water sprayed all over everything that was in a spider's walking distance of the grass: my shorts, a shirt, boots, stuff sacks, the picnic bench, oddly, not the tent or the bike. 

Ready for departure at 7:30 am

Nan was up - somewhat reluctantly - by 6:30 am when she realized there was just no point in fighting it and amazingly, we were locked and loaded and on the road by 7:45. It was too early for breakfast, even though the night before we had stopped by the local bakery and were told there would be cinnamon buns in the morning... at 8:30 but that would mean too much waiting around so off we went. 

Sadly,  north of Ashcroft, there really isn't a whole lot to see, especially this day as the smoke is so thick I could  barely see the bike. And it's basically what my friend Daryl calls "slab riding'. Four lanes, six lines, no fun. And smoke.

By 100 Mile House, the lack of coffee was making us squirrely and the first sign Nan sees that says coffee becomes our intended destination. I had been eagerly anticipating a sit-down breakfast where we would get SERVED our food but what we got was pre-made sandwiches grilled and lattes. To their credit, both were better than I expected.

On the way to 100 Mile

We filled up with gas and chatted with another motorcycler, riding a BMW K1600GT with a cooler strapped to the passenger seat. "Where you going" I'm asked. "Bella Coola" I answer. "Hit anything?" "No", I reply. Just then a bevy of emergency vehicles speed by with  sirens blaring and another driver getting gas says "what's up with that?" as though asking a rhetorical question with that obvious an answer will somehow make more sense.

15 km out of town, motorcycles are approaching going the opposite direction. The first of the group is waving at me, which I appreciate because we riders are all "brethren" of sorts out there in the elements. Then Nan and i are talking about his enthusiastic wave and we wonder if there might me something on the road, like deer and it was a signal to slow down. A minute later, another motorcycler waving his arm palm down  and this is just too much of a coincidence and around the next corner we see why: all the emergency vehicles we saw 10 minutes earlier are on the side of the road and there are numerous other vehicles and motorcycles parked on the shoulder.  A bike is way off to the side in the ditch and a half dozen emergency personnel are tending to the rider. It is a bleak scenario, especially from a bike. We all recognize the risks, which is part of the "brotherhood" - especially us who have lived it but it still leaves us a little rattled.

Williams Lake and the route turns west. Four lanes changes to two and Hwy 20 is decidedly quieter.

Though much to our surprise, from Williams Lake the route is peppered with ranches and farms. Green, rolling hills with irrigation spewing out water and the landscape is dotted with cows and horses. It is quite beautiful and not at all isolating. Sadly, still can't see too far into the distance as the smoke is blocking our view but we sense there are hills out there.

Bridge over the mighty Fraser River

This pretty much carries on till about Alexis Creek, about a third of the way to Bella Coola from Williams Lake. There have been the little communities along the way comprising of maybe a couple of businesses and a couple of houses but it is really not the strip of desolation that we had somehow imagined. 

Alexis Creek turns out to be the end of ranchland. Even though I had identified gas further on, I fill up the bike so that i have all the gas I need to get us to Bella Coola. It is only mid day and we had such an early start that we have made great time. Only 30 minutes further and we are pulling into the campground that I had originally targeted as our Day 2 terminus: Bull Canyon. The internet describes it as a provincial campground with 5 tent sites but it actually has at least 20 which are tidy, right alongside the Fraser River and with a pump for fresh water. But given that it is only just past noon, we decide to push onward.

The highway has become much more deserted. Even though we hadn't seen as much traffic all day, there are fewer and fewer buildings. The ranches are gone, too, replaced by lakes and hills and forests. The road is in good shape and the leisurely pace we are riding is pleasant. The lines on road disappear and it is just grey going forward with only the occasion yellow sign to warn us when the road is curving.

We come to a few other options for campgrounds including some off on side roads or logging roads. Pyper Lake is a few kililometres off the highway on a rough gravel road. There are two tent sites, one of which is occupied and the other is pretty messy with used diapers, beer cans and other garbage, which was a disappointment because it really was a nice site. It even had poles tied in the trees to hang food. But because it is still early, we don't feel going beyond is much risk.

Further on we take another side road to Tatla Lake. There are a number of people around however, as it turns out, none camping. "Locals" (I'm not sure what that means out here) are just there for a few hours enjoying the lake and the sun. One person tells me she has to go back to work because somebody is coming in for stitches so I guess she is in charge at one of the first aid stations we have seen. 

Tatla Lake. You can see the "short cut" on left.

I was happy for her to leave because her suburban was occupying a tent site that I wanted right beside the lake. The road down is very steep though so I scout out the other way and see it is much gentler, though there is a lot of soft sand, REALLY soft. Like drywall mud. I tell Nan I will meet her down there and she can walk the short way.

As soon as I am in the sand, I'm in distress. It is a sharp turn and I can't negotiate around the corner, I'm struggling to keep the bike upright and I last about 10 feet and have a slow speed tip-over. If the sand had been wet, it would have been quicksand and I am sure I would have been lost forever. At the best of times, the bike is big and tough to pick up and in the past, I've usually needed help. Today is no different as I can't get a hand on the hand-hold behind the seat because I have all kinds of things strapped to the bike there. Plus the ground is so soft my feet can't get a grip. Two attempts and I fail, thinking about all the videos I have seen of girls half my size picking up bikes twice this big. With camping gear and all, it would be pushing 800 lbs, though.

I'm going to make one more attempt then strip off the camping gear but I am a little panicked because I the bike is leaking gas. Just at that moment, a young (40s) guy walks up the trail and quickly swoops in to save the day by helping me pick up the bike, then pushes me back so I can get onto a rocky part of the trail. No damage as the ground is very soft but the bike is really dirty. The bike won't start because it's flooded so I have to walk back and tell Nan we are NOT camping by the lake. Oddly, she is NOT impressed because she didn't see the point in trying to take the bike that way. Apparently. 

After a few minutes, the bike starts and we pick a spot with a nice view of the lake and I learn a lesson about the importance of not taking unnecessary risks.

All the day users are clearing out including my savior, which disappoints Nan since she likes it when

other campers are around to be bear fodder. However, we are committed at this point and we go for a swim to cool off, I pour water on the bike to rinse off some dust, then Nan pulls out her stash of canned wine to cool off while we set up the tent and sleeping bags. It's a welcome relief and an unusual treat but we are both dehydrated from being on the bike all day and get a little relaxed. We are drinking treated lake water, too, which is also very good but probably aren't drinking enough of it. i cooked a fabulous dinner of Asian noodles (which actually come cooked, which is why the are ready to eat so fast) and canned chicken. Lots of protein... and not much else.