Oh, Canada

To complete the backstory I rushed over yesterday, I arrived in Seattle safely, and had a most wonderful evening with Ashley, KC, and Lindsay. We talked, laughed, did errands--including picking rosemary from someone's way-overgrown rosemary bush somewhere--enjoyed a delicious meal of roast chicken, onion mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, and salad. And, we went out for ice cream at about 10:00! It's embarrassing to say this, but I haven't been out that late in decades. Totally worth it. //This morning I got up just before 7:00, had coffee and said my goodbyes to the three very special young women, and was on the road by 7:30. By 8:00 I was in another Seattle backup from a previous accident, but this time a 'snainfall' piled on to the experience. By Bellingham, sun shone on blooming forsythia, flowering crab trees, yellow and white jonquils. There is a back road that cuts over to a border crossing in Sumas, and practically before my passport was back in my bag, I was in Abbotsford, getting more coffee and crunching kilometers to miles. //Back in 1997, I drove the Fraser River and Thompson River canyons twice--a round trip to Vancouver from Cache Creek. I'd either forgotten or blocked much of the experience. For someone who gets the screaming mimi's around heights, this is--trust me--a stretch of white-knuckle driving. The road is benign until the turn at Hope. Canadian Route 1 continues, but not much hope for a relaxing drive sticks around! The Fraser River canyon is sheer bulky rock with trees and vegetation, tunnels and twisty turns. W-a-a-a-a-y down there at the bottom of the canyon is the river. I didn't spend much time looking for it. At one point, Spuzzum, I think, the road crosses the canyon. I didn't look down there, either. By this time it was raining with snowflakes mixed in. //At Lytton, the road grinds around the shoulder of a great big mountain, and the river at the bottom is now the Thompson River. This canyon, wider than the other and bracketed on either side with rail lines, is walled with crumbly sedimentary rock the color of old scrambled eggs. Lots of around the corners up and down stop for construction blah blah blah. Then the road, at Spence's Bridge, crosses that river (just watch the pavement....), and the sun blessed much of that bit of driving. //The sun gave out and the wind and snow showers picked up just north of Cache Creek. This particular section of B.C. 97 is called the Caribou Connector. A several-year project is afoot to improve the road connecting Prince George--slap in the middle of the province--to Vancouver. While there are communities fairly frequently clustered along the road, for the most part, the road traverses vast untamed spaces. I still love looking at the different trees; I enjoy noticing how far behind Spring is here at 57 degrees N. Lat. The elevation is only 1,942 feet, but one of the summits I traversed today clocked in at 3,873 feet--if my calculation of meters-to-feet is correct. //One place where traffic stopped for single lane passage, workmen were hanging enormous lengths of chain-link fencing from the cliffs to keep the falling rock from pelting passing vehicles. I drove through rain, snow showers, mud spray, sun, more rain, etc., stopping in Mile 93 House--that's the name of the community--for gas, where the price is advertised in litres. //The sun came out for good as I approached Williams Lake, my destination for the day. I think I've done the last bit of dramatic driving for a while--at least until the descent along Long Lake east of Anchorage, but at least I'll be on the cliff side and not on the drop-off side. //So, I'm in for the night. It's a treat to know that the car is still purring along, even if she does look quite hideous from all the road spray. //I think Fort Saint John has a car wash.