WILLIAMS LAKE, HORSEFLY AND LIKELY, BC

One more thing about the Biathlon shooting that we did in Whistler…Don was very proud of himself for hitting all five targets first time around. Then when I hit all five as well, it took a bit of the wind out of his sails.  Which I seem to do periodically.

The gal that was there directing us said she was quite surprised that he hit all five of his shots. She seemed really surprised when I hit all of mine.  We suspect she is trained to tell folks how great they did no matter how they shoot.  


Anyway, Don went on to pay for five more shots so he could shoot at the golf ball sized targets.  As a result, Don is no longer thinking of taking up the Biathlon as an Olympic sport.

OK, just so you know, we made it…

…down the steep grade and through the 45 degree turn under the railroad overpass.

I did a bit of praying as we approached and we made it through…but by just seconds!  Don said he wasn’t worried.  Yeah, right!

This is a totally blind turn on the edge of the canyon and coming our way…only a matter of seconds away from the ‘intersection’…was a Class C motorhome. If it had taken us a few more seconds for us to arrive there, or if the other rig had been driving a little bit faster, we both would have reached the underpass at the same time. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened.

You should have heard Don’s sigh of relief when we made it through in one piece!! And he said he said he wasn’t concerned!!!

This was our last look at the Fraser River at least for now. We will pick it up again further up the road.

One of the irritations I face here in Canada is their power lines. They are everywhere, big and black and always hanging where I want to photograph.

A bit further on there is a plateau along the river canyon where they grow crops and right now it is haying time.

Finally we exit the exciting (???) though beautiful, Highway 99 and turned north on Highway 97, a much more RV-friendly route.

On this road we get to drive the motorhome 100 mph…oh, I guess that’s kilometers per hours…or about 62 mph. Well, it was exciting there for a minute…

We found a RV park in Williams Lake and then took a drive up to a tiny town called, Horsefly. There wasn't much at Horsefly but when you find a town with a name like that, well you just have to go look.  We had a late breakfast at the town’s only café. It had all of three things on the breakfast menu which made choosing what to eat pretty easy.

The Horsefly River runs through the area and we crossed over another of the one-lane wooden bridge.

The information we had said there was a museum in Horsefly. That may have been a bit of an exaggeration.  However, the tiny building did have a picture of the Horsefly Hotel back in the days when Horsefly was a boom town.

An hour or two up a back road was the equally tiny town of Likely. The road to Likely was a beautiful drive.
Again it was a narrow, one-lane dirt road.

We found this grouse which was just standing in the middle of the road and he didn't move.  We had to drive around him.

With mountains and forests in the background and wildflowers in the foreground, we were thoroughly enjoying this drive.

Add to that a river view…and a very steep road…well, it certainly wasn’t boring, either.

This is really a picture-postcard sort of drive and exactly the kind of thing we enjoy stumbling on.

It had been raining on and off for the last 24 hours or so and it made the potholes in the road easier to see.  We splashed in and out of a lot of them.

We saw only one waterfall on this drive and it was almost hidden behind greenery.

The little town of Likely sits on the end of Quesnel Lake and so is great for camping and fishing for locals.

Except for the cabins on the river and a very small store, this was about as much of Likely as we were likely to see!

Next we heard there was a ghost town nearby, called Quesnel Forks.

The sun broke through for a little while, but there were still a few raindrops on the windshield. We looked past them and at another VERY steep road.

Quesnel Forks is a ghost town that was formerly a boomtown in the 1800’s. It sits at the bottom of a mountain next to the river. It is a beautiful setting. During the 1880's many towns that were boom towns quickly became ghost towns when gold became much harder to come by that folks thought.

Currently, the Quesnel Forks Cemetery Association is keeping up the site and doing some restoration of the several buildings that are still there. We were surprised to see that there are actually a number of recent burials in the cemetery since no one lives there any longer.

 

The river in this location is quite wide and fast moving. You can see a large timber on it’s way down the river.

This little cabin and the rest of the town site apparently was part of a celebration of the 150th anniversary of the Cariboo Gold Rush in 2009. (The ‘Cariboo’ is the designation of this area of British Columbia.)

I suspect this old truck made it down the mountain and gave up the ghost rather than attempt the drive back up to the top.

There were very few items in any of the buildings, but for some reason there was this antique bath tub in one of them. I guess one never knows who will stop by needing a bath…

A bench welcomed visitors to sit and relax by the river for a while.

Heading back to the top of the mountain, we stopped to take in the view at an inviting overlook.

This was our first sign of turning leaves and fall colors.

But summer is not gone yet and we see a lot of Fireweed still blooming in the area.

On the way back to the RV park, we came upon a whole herd of cattle on the road. There is a lot of open range around here. Mom was busy nursing this calf as we drove past. As you can see, she didn’t bat an eye.

Just before the cattle, we saw a moose by the road, however, he quickly headed back into the bushes and I couldn’t get a picture.  Maybe next time.

I can’t get over all the wildflowers that are blooming everywhere. They are really beautiful.

Tomorrow we head north to Quesnel and then driving the car to Barkerville, a very special old boom town.  I will post again in a couple days.

By the way, we really enjoy hearing your comments on the blog, so keep your input coming.

LILLOOET, BC

The morning before we left Whistler, we decided to go back up to Olympic Park to do a little shooting at the Olympic Biathlon range.

This black bear cub was meandering around near the road. We watched out for his mom but didn’t see her anywhere near. This is definitely bear country!

For $15.00 you can try your hand at Biathlon shooting at the range where the Olympic contenders did the shooting portion of their race. 

If you are not up on the sport of Biathlon (and I wasn't) the athletes Nordic ski a cross-country route with rifles on their backs, then with heart and lungs still pounding, they ski up to this rifle range and while still standing on their skis, shoot at these targets 160 feet away. 


Of course their shots are rapid fire, as this is a timed event. Then they flatten out on their stomachs and shoot again at the targets which have now been changed from the size of a softball to the size of a golf ball. Wow!

Don and I used the same rifles they used and shot at the same targets as the Olympians. The results just were a bit different.

First off, they had us shoot at the larger (softball sized) targets from a prone position as you can stabilize the gun easier in that position. (We needed all the help we could get!)

Don shot first (I didn’t want to show him up right off the bat) at target number eight.

Don did a great job of hitting all five of them, one right after the other.  We had five bullets each, so there were no second chances.

Since the next round at the Biathlon, is to make the target the size of a golf ball. Don gave it a shot, or five shots as it happens.  I won’t show you his results this time. Lets just say it wasn't quite as impressive as his first round.

Now it was my turn. I am shooting at target number nine.

This is my score. Need I say more? Except to say that I was smart enough not to try the golf ball-sized targets.

Basically we were both pretty happy to have gotten five out of five first time around.

That was really fun and we got a much better appreciation of the talent and expertise of the Olympians who compete in this sport.

Then we continued on our trip. We are still on the infamous highway 99 and we are driving it to Lillooet, BC. It is about a 2-1/2 hour drive on a very narrow steep and wind-y road. It is really a beautiful drive, and is best done and appreciated in a car (the smaller the better!) than a 41 foot motorhome with a tow car.

This route is full of 12%-15% grades with hairpin curves, not to mention several single-lane wooden bridges. I have decided that Canada apparently thinks that any road that can be navigated by a mountain goat should be declared full access to all vehicles.

The upside is that it is so very beautiful. My camera was not able to even come close to doing it all justice.  There are lakes and mountains all along the way.

Notice the actual width of the blacktop. Not very wide!

We loved the beauty of this area. Of course Don has to be super-vigilant driving this type of road. It is not a relaxing ride for the driver.

This is the first time we have seen this on this trip so far. We will see a lot more of this as we travel north. Canadians like to take rocks and write their name or declare their love for someone on blank slates like this on the side of the road.

More mountains, lakes and mountain streams next to narrow, winding roads.  It’s all so beautiful.

Yeowww! One of several wooden single-lane bridges.

Oh, did I mentions hairpin curves, usually at the bottom of super steep grades? At least on this one, we can see if someone is coming from the other was. Not so on most.

The outside edge of this hairpin curve (and most of them) is…thin air!

Finally we arrive at the little village of Lillooet and at our RV Park next to the Fraser River.

Lillooet is one of the oldest communities in British Columbia. Many First Nations people (the St’at’imc) live here.  The Cariboo Gold Rush of the 1850’s and 1860’s turned this little village into a boom town with a population of 15,000 for a brief time during the Gold Rush.

The first trail to the Cariboo gold fields came through here. In fact, Lillooet is Mile Zero on the original Cariboo Road. All Road Houses on the road north of Lillooet, such as 100 Mile House, were named for their distance from Lillooet.

The Bridge of the 23 Camels (next to our RV Park) which spans the Fraser River, is named for the camels used, with a spectacular lack of success, as gold rush pack animals.

With the camels gone, the only thing left is the barn they were kept in.

Except for brief periods of prosperity, Lillooet has remained a quiet community.

Jade was also mined in the area and there are huge jade boulders placed here and there around town. There is still jade available, however due to the lack of nearby water sources, jade is no longer mined.

Part of Lillooet’s history is the “hanging tree,” (Yes, they did hang people here!) which due to safety reasons had to be cut down after it died.

However part of it is still in a park that overlooks the town and river.

The town is surrounded by magnificent mountains on all sides.

The original bridge over the Fraser River was a suspension bridge which was used until the Bridge of the 23 Camels was built in 1981.  I was fighting the sun on this picture, but on top of the first girder across the bridge is a nest.

Baby ospreys posed as I took this picture.

We also stopped at a Farmer’s Market on Main Street, just looking for a little local color.

One little lady was selling a variety of odds and ends…

On her table was a cockatoo and a small bunny. I’m not sure what the bunny was supposed to be doing, but if you gave the cockatoo a coin, he would drop it in the donation jar. It was not clear what the donations were for but the bird was certainly into collecting donations. Ah, yes. I love 'Local Color.'

Next on our agenda was about a 4-hour loop drive to see more of the area. Part of the road we will be driving in the motorhome tomorrow, and part was marked in green on the map. I wondered if it might be a good shortcut to take tomorrow…

That question was answered as soon as we got on the ‘green’ part of the road. It was one lane and dirt but really beautiful. You know what that means…steep and curvy…nothing you could ever take in an RV. This part of the route took us at least an hour. Slow going, for sure.

As we ascended to the top of the mountain, the wildflowers were spectacular. Depending on the altitude, the color changed and there was everything imaginable blooming.

Then is was time to head back down the other side of the mountain. This was a very, very long and wind-y 15% grade down to where there was once again pavement.

Once back on the blacktop, we drove into the town of Clinton for lunch. On the edge of town we passed the ‘Clinton Emporium’ and immediately decided to stop there after lunch.

These places are always interesting to walk through just to see what is there. There was tons of stuff out in front, in back and two floors inside. Most of it was just junk that was yearning for a landfill, other things were of at least some value…just not to us. 


However, the business is for sale if you would like to move to beautiful British Columbia to begin a new career….

The road back to the RV Park runs along the top of the Fraser River canyon and brings us to a spot in the road just a few miles outside of Lillooet. This is a spot where we will be traveling through tomorrow in the 41 foot motorhome with tow car attached. Oh, Boy!! Can I do this with my eyes closed???

This is one of those spots where you drive down a 15% grade and then are faced with a tight and blind 45 degree turn under a railroad underpass.

This picture is facing uphill (which has a better view of the road ahead). Tomorrow morning we will be coming downhill and trying to navigate this turn. It is on the edge of the canyon lined with K-rail, so there is no room for error. You might notice the damage to the concrete walls where a few others obviously came a little too close.

We are hoping not to leave any of our motorhome on the wall… There are times I wish our rig would bend in the middle and this is one of them.  Stay tuned, I’ll let you know how it went.

WHISTLER, BRITISH COLUMBIA

So finally…we are off to Alaska! We have been anxiously awaiting this trip and the day finally arrived to climb aboard the RV and hit the road once again.

We took a different route this time than when we went to Alaska in 2008. This time we went northwest to Portland, up through Seattle and on to Vancouver, BC.  All that traffic in those cities reminded us of why we are glad we live in Central Oregon and are not in Los Angeles anymore.

Crossing the border into Canada was an interesting experience no doubt due to our shifty appearances.

Normally the border agents make us get out of the motorhome, stand outside while they do a quick walk through the rig and look for veggies and such that are not allowed into Canada. It usually takes five or so minutes.

This time, after answering all the usual questions, “No, we have no guns, no, we have no ammunition either,” we were given some paperwork and instructed to go into the office after moving the motorhome into an empty lot nearby.

After a few more questions inside, we were told to have a seat while two agents took our keys and went out to inspect the rig. 


This time, as we watched them from the office, we could see them as they spent a full half hour in and around the rig. They even crawled across the bed to get into the back closet, and unlocked and went through all the compartments under the motorhome. They opened up all the containers we had stored there, looking for goodness knows what.

Finally they walked back to the office empty-handed and ushered us on our way. I guess I will have to work on cleaning up my ‘guilty look.’

After leaving Vancouver, we got on highway 99 which heads northwest toward the center of B.C. and back toward the road we had traveled before. However this section is a very different type of road. Most of it is two-lane, very hilly, twisty and drop dead beautiful.

We arrived at our RV Park a few miles outside of Whistler.

I can’t imagine who designed this park. It is a decent park, the spaces are flat and not crowded. It has great mountain views.

However, it is way up on the side of the mountain. The entrance off the highway is a long narrow wind-y road with 11% grades to climb to get up to the parking area.  Funny thing…they didn’t happen to mention that little detail on their website.

So after getting the motorhome settled half-way up the side of the mountain, it was time to do some sightseeing.

Brandywine Falls Provincial Park is one kilometer up the road from here so was an easy visit.

After parking the car, we crossed a roaring stream on a covered bridge.

We followed a path through the beautiful mossy woods toward the falls that we could hear long before we could see it.

From the falls the path continued on to where the stream eventually empties into a lake.

Wild flowers are in bloom everywhere which I am thoroughly enjoying.

Next we head into Whistler Village. Whistler hosted the 2010 Winter Olympics and Paralympics, and so one sees signs of that everywhere.

Whistler Village is a beautiful place surrounded by tall mountains, many with ski runs in full view. there are lots of (overpriced) shops and more resort hotels than I think I have ever seen in one place. However, it all comes together so beautifully, I won’t complain. Actually we enjoyed walking through the village.

We stopped in to the Fairmont Chateau Whistler Hotel just to look around. We have visited a few other of the Fairmont resort hotel chain in Canada and found them spectacular hotels. Terribly expensive, I’m sure, but fun to stop in and walk around.

Across the road is the Aboriginal Museum.  It is an impressive museum that highlights the culture of four of the First Nations tribes from the area. It was built just before the Olympics and was a beautiful building.

This huge carving was probably 12 feet or so across and was in constant motion.

There were numerous weavings, many like this one, were made out of cedar bark strips.

There were also several handmade and hand carved canoes.

In the village there were the Olympic Circles to commemorate the medal winners.

After walking around the village for a while and sitting down with a Starbucks for a little people-watching, we headed on down the highway.

At a highway pull-off, we looked down at the top of Narin Falls.

Where you see the mist raising, was where the water tumbles over the falls. We couldn’t see anymore than what is in this picture, so hopped back in the car and shortly came to the entrance of Narin Falls Provincial Park.

Here we were faced with a large, wild, very fast moving river.  The sign said the path to the falls was 1.5 kilometers beyond this point. I pulled out a conversion calculator and determined that this was about nine-tens of a mile…one way. It reminds you that it is a narrow trail along a deep, fast moving river, so basically, be careful. No problem. Off we went.

However there are a few details the sign leaves out such as, it is a rather rough trail. Lots of roots and rocks on the trail.

I quickly realize that I don’t get to see much scenery because I have to watch the path and my feet, so I don’t stumble.

The trail is pretty high above the river and most places it is close to straight down to the rushing water. Trip over a rock and you wouldn’t have a chance. It is also not a flat trail. Lots of ups and downs. Not terrible, we have been on much worse, but old hips and knees were complaining anyway.

Thankfully it is not a hot day. That helps, but we were both sweating by the time we reached the falls. I asked Don if he thought there would be a vendor at the falls selling water and diet cokes. He just gave me one of those ‘looks.’  Aw, c’mon! It was just a joke…(but it sure would have been nice!)

We were about three quarters of the way to the falls when a young 20-something met us with her shoes in her hands walking barefoot!!  Whoa!!  That hurts just to think about it!

Shortly before reaching the falls I told Don that maybe I miscalculated the conversion of the distance and that possibly instead of 9/10’s of a mile it was actually nine miles…at least that is what it was beginning to feel like to the hips and knees.

The falls, when we got there were pretty impressive. It is always amazing how the water cuts through the rock.

On our way back to camp, we turned up to the Olympic Park. This is where the games actually took place and was just a few miles from our RV park.

The flags were flying at half-staff at the visitor center. They said it was because of the horrible massacre of all those young people in Norway.

This is what the ski jump looks like when it is not covered with snow. Pretty scary, actually. There are about a zillion steps from the bottom up to the top of the jump.

This totem was just outside the visitor center, part of the influence of the First Nations peoples in this area.

One of the things we had noticed on the road up to the Olympic park was….

…scat. BEAR SCAT!!!  (The polite name for the stinky stuff.) And lots of it.  On the road, on the gravel next to the road…one would think that bears would prefer to take care of business in the woods instead of on the road in plain sight, but obviously not.

A little further down the road we saw the culprit, or at least one of them. This black bear was busy munching on grass on the side of the road.

Around the next curve was a rather beat-up sign that we almost missed that said something about Alexandria Falls. We turned in and drove a very short distance.

A walk of only about a hundred feet showed us the largest and most impressive falls of the day.

Back on the road there were several signs indicating more of those infamous 10% grades, down hill this time.

There were also beautiful mountain views.

Around a curve we spotted a big ol’ brown bear in among the wildflowers, once again eating grass.

Even though this bear is brown, he is actually a black bear as they come in many colors, including white, although that color is not often seen.

After a late dinner in the motorhome, I started working on this blog.  Then I noticed some color on the clouds above the mountains, so grabbed the camera for a couple last shots.

OK, maybe driving up those 11% grades to get up to this RV park was worth it after all.