Putting on the miles

As I sit at the Laundromat in Dawson Creek, warding off an annoying fly that keeps landing on my foot, I realize I’ve become quite the traveler. My mini-van is filled with junk food while my house plants hang on for dear life as I zoom around corners and plunge up the hills.

I really don’t drive that fast, though, because I get to follow the tracks of our U-Haul, which Dad and Jon take turns driving.

Wearing Jon's sunglasses. I lost mine. I'm falling back into my Alaskan ways--wearing bandanna and braids. :)

I’ve seen a lot of territory as we make our way north on the map of British Columbia. Dad brought along his GPS, but she (dubbed Betty Sue by my mom) often gets lost on the one road that travels north (we think this is due to cloud cover). The two vehicles keep contact through handheld CB radios my dad and uncle Rick supplied us with for the trip. The GPS gives us an idea of when we’ll arrive at our motel while the Alaska Milepost Magazine tells us where every turn out and rest stop lies. It even gives a brief history of every town and landmark.

Being in Canada, however, they measure their roads with kilometers. This makes it a little challenging to know exactly where we are as the Milepost measures miles--hence the name.

We average three gas station stops every day as the U-Haul gets around eight miles per gallon. Our second stop today consisted of a little “musical trucks” as Dad patiently waited for a spot, pulled in, and then learned that particular pump was out of unleaded fuel. So, with dozens of other hunting trucks waiting for their turn with the nozzle, Dad backed up our 26 ft. box on wheels and squeezed into another spot. This is actually the second time we parked and were told the unleaded fuel was empty. The first being right before customs.

Early morning rain

Following a morning rain, we began our assent up the highway toward Dawson Creek. I noticed autumn colors were beginning to show and enjoyed the scenery as it passed by my window. As we drew closer to our destination city in the north, I noticed the colors of the changing trees became more brilliant and pronounced (this probably due to the cold temps at night) as we drove up the road. I’m hoping there are leaves left on the trees when we get to Homer.

The Rocky Mountains in Canada

After settling into our next motel room (Daisy included), we piled in the mini-van and went to take pictures of the beginning of the official Alaska Highway. Following our small photo adventure, we ate at a local restaurant called Mr. Mike’s. I ordered Mike’s Bacon Burger, which turned out to be an oblong patty in between two half-loaves of garlic French bread. It was quite tasty and I may try it in my own kitchen some day soon. However, I can’t believe I ate the whole thing. It was a nice change from fast food.


Well, or clothes are nearly dry and I’m looking forward to sneaking out of this Laundromat and relaxing in our modest motel room. Maybe I’ll get some real sleep tonight. The beds at last night’s motel were hard and my pillow was flat. I used to be able to sleep anywhere. I’m afraid I’m getting old.

Tomorrow begins another day of driving. We’ll be passing into the Yukon. I wonder if we’ll see snow…