I don’t have much to say about the drive between Eastern BC and the Fraser River Valley other than it was truly amazing. I will live here someday. The area renewed a passion of mine I have ignored for a couple of years now–skiing. Several hours after leaving the major national parks–Jasper, Banff, and Yoho, we were surprised when we entered Canada’s Glacier National Park. It was incredible, but interestingly it was different than the others– it was more like a ghost town. It seemed like a national park that never was. It’s facilities were abandoned, entry gates non-existent, and there were no visitors in site. The only vehicles we passed were logging trucks and state workers. But it was phenomenal. The mountains were tall, rivers were wild and and glaciers were more visibly present here than from anywhere along the well-known Icefields Parkway. From there, we entered into Revelstoke. If there was one place that felt like home immediately, it was here. The trails I ran on there even felt like the ones I used to run on back in Amherst along the corn fields and the town itself was like Northampton–just with way bigger mountains. It’s proximity to the mountains, good rock climbing, skiing,  mountain biking, and lively mountain town atmosphere make this a place I’ll be sure to call home someday.

Like traveling throughout the Western United States, the Canadian landscape is diverse. The area surrounding Revelstoke was quintessentially British Columbia–it’s green, mountainous, dense, and you can see snow anytime of the year. But just traveling a few hours west, Canada changes slowly as a new landscape slowly unfolds out the windows of the car. mountains are slowly replaced with a vast hill country, trees grow sparser and are replaced with spotty shrubs and sage, and the overall color of the landscape changes from a multi-hued palette of greens and greys to sand brown. When we got to Kamloops, I couldn’t believe how the landscape had changed. It was like driving from the high mountains of Southwest Colorado to the desert of Southeast Utah, although not as extreme.

Highlights: REVELSTOKE. Main Street Café. The Modern Bakeshop and Café. Finding out that street library book exchanges are a thing. Taco Club Food Truck. Climbing at “The Beach” in Kamloops. A piano on the street in downtown Kamloops. The Art We Are, a Kamloops “artisan tea joint.” Fraser River area. The Rugged Bean Cafe in Lillooet.

Main Street Cafe

Breakfast at the Main Street Cafe Yum

Taco Club Food Truck

Running in Revelstoke.

Kamloops

Lara on a” climb at “the Beach

Still trying to like bananas

unfortunate quarrying of beautiful limestone cliffs

beautiful limestone cliffs

Fraser River Valley

Soup from “the Rugged Bean.” Best soup I had all trip. Although, they should change their name to something more fitting– like “Auntie Susie’s Little Soup Stop” 🙂

Riverside camping on our way to Whistler

The Rig in it’s natural environment

Just as the rig’s odometer tipped 100,000 outside of St. George, we made the impulsive decision to head east into the national parks of the Canadian Rockies—we couldn’t help it and we had nothing but time. From the west, the entry into this glacially blanketed and snow capped region occurs via the Mount Robson Provincial Park. Robson is the tallest mountain in the Canadian Rockies and certainly looks the part with it’s steep faces and prominent features. Because of our proximity to Robson and the national parks, free camping in the area would have to be carefully evaluated. We’d be near the busiest parts of Canada aside from the cities. So, we headed a dozen or so miles back where we came to Valecourt where we were able to find a road to river access with signs of prior overnighters. The next morning, we found the courage to join the droves of tourists as we made our way down the Icefields Parkway. For the occasion, I ordered myself a chai tea latte from Coco’s Cafe in Jasper which was probably the best one I’d ever had (although I’m probably not the best judge of coffee drinks).

So, Lara and I are tourists. We can’t really deny it. We are not from here and are just passing through like everyone else. But after spending the last several years working in the outdoors leading trips, instructing various outdoor skills, doing trail work, NOLS, working on glaciers and rivers, etc., we don’t fit the typical tourist bill. After seeking out discreet places to camp every night, cooking food on the side of the road, and running on local trails, we both felt a little removed from the place. There were more people here than we expected for the time of year, but it was pretty easy to put miles between ourselves and them out on the trails. At the “main attractions”, it was just as fun to take pictures of the tourists as it is the natural surroundings. At the toe of the Columbia Glacier, we saw buses equipped to drive onto the glacier to give anyone who wanted to pay for it, the chance to say they were on a glacier. It wasn’t much different than the glacier dogsled experiences my summer employer offered. If they are here just to get the perfect picture to prove they were here, they are missing the point of these places entirely. Regardless, Lara and I had great time and enjoyed sunny weather. Oh, and Lara gave me a much needed haircut!

After a few days in the national parks, it was back to the uncertainty of the road. At dusk, we parked the rig outside of Golden, BC down a dirt road the GPS didn’t recognize. We followed it until it’s end which was farm property for sale so it seemed safe to assume no one would be driving down the road or bother us. Wrong. Two men with machetes came out of the scrub brush at the edge of an adjacent field. Just kidding, it was a stress and worry-free place to kick it for the night.

Highlights: People watching, people watching, people watching. #oldmeninshorts. Icefields Parkway. Running to Tim Hecker’s album Harmony in Ultraviolet alone and beyond Wilcox Pass. Seeing Mount Robson.

an easy dinner after a long day

haha

#oldmeninshorts

Where the glacier buses go

Wilcox Pass

“You got any drugs or weapons or pepper spray with you?”
“Just bear spray.”
“Why do you have bear spray?”
“There are bears here.”
“Alright, step out of the car and stand over there.” After getting patted down for drugs, weapons, and whatever else, Lara and I sat around for about an hour answering occasional questions while two border inspectors searched “the rig.”

Border crossings are not particularly fun for anyone really, but when your car is packed to the windows with everything you’ve got, your plates are from 4000 miles away, and you haven’t showered or cleaned up in days, the thought of passing over a border is dreadful. This particular border crossing was between Stewart, British Columbia and the small town of Hyder, Alaska (no US customs to enter). We had just explored one of the prettiest rivers I’d ever seen. I was sure that of all the borders we’d cross, this one’d be the easiest, but he was so sure he was going to find something that he grabbed backup.

The question that gets increasingly complicated to answer in these situations is: “Where are you from?” A week or so prior when we had passed into Canada with Wesley we joked about the question. “Well officer, how much time do you have?” We all have found ourselves giving our lives biographies.

“I was born in MA, kinda lived in Juneau but spent a lot of time on a glacier. I’m currently living out of my car for the next couple weeks. I just finished one good job and am headed to another in Seattle. No place to live there yet though. And yeah, I probably won’t change my plates.”

Yes there is water in that water jug and gasoline in that gas jug. No that computer isn’t filled with illegal drugs. That is not drugs or a bomb, it’s 110 film for an old camera. But hey, thanks for finding that Nalgene I’d been looking for!
I get it. They are just trying to do a job. But—they do tend to ask the most ridiculous questions and seem to let everyone else without a problem. Of course it isn’t always so bad. On our way back into the US through Washington, we were greeted by a nonintimidating inspector who was as excited for us to be back and close to our destination as we were.

In the first couple hundred miles of the Cassiar, we only saw about a handful of cars. The remoteness of the road made finding a spot to set up the tent easier than anywhere I’ve ever driven. Roadside pulloffs with nice camping almost always seemed too good to be true. I’ve found that the farther away you are from where people live, the easier it is to sleep at night because you don’t have to have worry about anyone disturbing you. During the day, we took our time to stop wherever we wanted, something I had never really felt like I had time to do. Not to say that the other trips have been motor marathons on interstates but this trip in particular had a relaxed feel. I made it a point to stop at every abandoned vehicle or structure I saw simply to imagine the stories of their past. We ran, swam, wrote letters, read, and explored.

The Stewart-Cassiar highway is British Columbia’s northwesternmost highway that cuts through some of most isolated terrain in the province. This time of year, dying leaves turn to their brilliant autumn reds, golds, yellows, and browns. The runs I went on were some of my most memorable ones just because of the changing leaves, especially on the aspens. Fall in British Columbia is comparably beautiful to fall time in New England. Sometime after talking about the beautiful fall colors, Lara asked me what places have left me speechless. My first answer I could give was the time I realized that I had finally made it west, in Newkirk, New Mexico. But I told her to hang on a bit while I thought a little more about it.

About midway down the Cassiar, we detoured west along a scenic branch, Highway 37a, towards Stewart, BC and Hyder, the easternmost town in Alaska. After a few minutes of driving we passed a massive glacier and lake on our left surrounded by towering mountain peaks. It was nearly impossible to keep my eyes on the road because of the incredible landscape that surrounded us. The mountains were draped with hanging glacial featured and crowned with snow. The place evoked a lot of feelings. We rounded a corner and I saw the most incredible waterfalls I had ever seen—Wall of Tears. It was as if their terminus’ were in the heavens above. Even though the sky was clear, the mountains were so tall that their cascading falls disappeared like long roads out into the horizon. I turned to Lara and said, “This.” This was one of those places that had left me speechless. What places have left you speechless?

Highlights: Running into Martin and learning about his incredible project: “Martin Goes ‘round the World” at the Bell 2 Lodge. Fall in British Columbia. Highway 37 and 37a. Abandoned places. Lakes. Glaciers. Mountain towns.

White Picket Fence

Nothing’s on the menu tonight

no gas today

carside camping

the kitchen

House of Wax

Northern Stewart-Cassiar

The Rig

Boya Lake

Running through the Aspens

R.I.P.

carside camping

As summer came to a quick end, it was time to say goodbye to the good friends and places I grew close to and prepare for the next adventure. This is always the challenge and excitement of seasonal work. By September 12^th, Lara and I had the car, or “the rig” as we started calling it, packed neatly to it’s edges leaving just enough space for ourselves to breathe. That night, we made camp between massive pines just along the beach 30 or so miles north of Juneau at Sunshine Cove. We woke up to people hurling pallets down the bank 75 feet to our right for a massive bonfire, which had been surprisingly pretty easy to sleep through.

“All ashore, going to shore. All ashore going to shore.” We took the Malaspina ferry from Auke Bay north to Haines. We enjoyed tortilla soup at Mountain Market where we met up with Lara’s cousin Wes who had been working with Alaska Mountain Guides on the rivers and lakes of the area. Afterwards, we wandered around on some trails with Lara while her cousin Wes took some footage for his video project called “No Other Land”, which I’m thinkin’ will be my breakthrough into modeling for Patagonia. Check it out!

One of the most exciting parts about being on the road is the uncertainty of where to sleep. On this section of our trip, we stayed at “the yard,” where Wes and the rest of the AMG (Alaska Mountain Guides) guides stay in the various vans, buses, and airstream trailers around the property. We hunkered down in a Wal-Mart parking lot after no camping signs and 500 dollar fines threatened our chances of staying anywhere beautiful around Whitehorse. Fortunately, most other nights we were able to find nicely located and discreet places to set up camp.

Highlights: Climbing at the Rock Gardens in the Yukon. Video shoot with Wes and Lara. Dinner at 33 mile, a historical eatery known for good food and heli-skiing (check out my childhood hero, the late Shane McConkey’s segment in the ski movie Claim). A beautiful ferry ride from Juneau to Haines. Monsters Inc. Running in Kluane National park at Lake Kathleen. Riverside Grocery in Whitehorse.

“The Yard”

Rock Gardens

Rock Gardens, Yukon

Mountain Market, Hainess

The Rig

An aerial view of our camp below Guardian Mountain on the Norris Glacier.