Bear Encounters, Smelly Hotel Rooms, and Gandolf With A Side of Curry.

"The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails."

— William Arthur Ward, Writer

This is going to be a long log my friends, because its time to chronicle our longest, sometimes hilarious, sometimes horrifying and entirely unexpected all-nighter. Will you come with us? Because we ended up somewhere we never expected, and sitting on the ferry today, I’m just grateful after all that happened that we made it at all.

10:00 AM Waking up in Cache Creek, we had a plan; a simple one. Drive to Vanderhoof, British Columbia, to meet some long lost relatives, get a good night’s rest, then drive to Terrace. This was never going to happen, little did we know then.

But driving through British Columbia in ignorant bliss last Saturday was beautiful as we headed north into taller mountains and tinier towns, many boasting one little gas station that doubled as the town store. More than half of the gas station clerks were from India (we don’t have a clue why) and there were the weirdest most fabulous snacks for sale, like ketchup-flavored chips and EATMORE candy bars (yes, please). We were shocked when we saw the price for gas, until we realized it was in Canadian money, advertised as 142.90. We don’t have a clue how this translated into 5 dollars American money, but it does, even though that’s not the exchange rate. Except for the odd gas station, horse or farmhouse, everything was covered in trees and little touched by people until we reached the verdant valley of Vanderhoof.

7:00 PM We reached Vanderhoof, and stared in awe. Rolling fields of green wheat and rye swirled

beside grazing cattle and quaking aspens. If an entire town had been plopped into the Utah mountains, that’s a little what Vanderhoof looked like. Not long after we arrived, we discovered meeting our relatives weren’t going to work out after all (we’ll catch up with them next fall, in case you were wondering) and suddenly we were faced with some tough choices.

Also, in case you were wondering, this is where the whole plan went KABLOOIE.

We found ourselves waiting at a railroad crossing in downtown Vanderhoof, cars roaring past as we dismally realized the only affordable place to stay was right beside the railroad tracks (Canada is covered with railroads, and we often glimpsed railcars speeding away through the pines on our drive). None of us relished train whistles shrieking through our dreams and the sound of railcars roaring in our ears all night, so the crew all voted, and the vote was unanimous.

We go on.

10:00 PM. We get back on the road, destination Terrace B.C., where we had a reservation for the and defeated the racoon, in case you wondering. Yes, way too much time on our hands).  The land we traveled through was breathtaking, and despite the late hour the sun had hardly gone down. Tall pines and vaulted peaks slid past beyond the windows, little log cabins and countless lakes scattered like shining coins across the Canada landscape. This was Canada’s “Lake District”, and famed worldwide, yet we were seeing it in the strange, never-ending dusk that is the Canadian summer. Munching on pumpkin seeds and sipping lukewarm water, we approached the coast.
following night, hoping they’d take us early. The Captain steered the Jeep while the crew dozed or played fruit games in the back (Alyssa and I beat like fifty levels). 

3:00 AM We pull into Terrace, another town tucked into the pines, and drive up to Days Inn, exhausted and bleary but assuming, assuming, we would soon be in bed. Ha!

As soon as we step into the hotel room, we smell new carpet and our hearts sink. The whole crew is allergic to new carpet, and guess which hotel was renovating its rooms?

You guessed, didn’t you?

So the night manager (also from India, as it turns out) pulls out a master key and with us in tow, clatters up the stairs and starts opening rooms for us to sniff. The third door we try, the manger opens the door, turns on the light and his eyes fly open wide.

“Dude….what?”

“So…so sorry, sir!”

“Shut off the light!”

“Apologies, apologies!”

Alyssa, Mom and I had our hands over our mouths, wincing. The next door we stood way, way back and the manager shot us look that made us giggle sheepishly. He waved us closer when the coast was clear, but is was no use. Every one of the rooms had been renovated, and would have made us terribly sick to sleep in. So with many thanks to the poor night manager (we called his boss to give him a good review for trying to help us) we left to search Terrace for a place to stay.

4:00 AM After calling a dozen places and trying two more, we ended up at our last hope, Kalum Motel. When we ring the bell, a man came to the door that I can only describe as Gandalf after eating his 20^th bowl of curry. Wearing traditional Indian garb, gray slippers and a incongruous baseball cap, he blinked at us as we tried to explain our predicament.

“I show you room,” he said, sounding and looking unintentionally wise and mysterious with his knobby nose, long white beard and sleep-narrowed eyes. “You like, you take. You don’t like, no problem. Eh?”

We followed his shuffling form across the parking lot, sniffed the room and knew at once we’d be sick from the mold and the tobacco smoke, which we’re also allergic to. Not to mention, probably eaten alive by bedbugs. You all know the sort of motels that are always last resorts, right?

 We said thanks but no thanks to Gandalf and climbed back in the car. After staring at each other for a while, we shook our heads and voted again. Sleep in the Jeep, or drive on to Prince Rupert another two hours down the road?

Can you guess what we did?

And would you believe it was worth it?

5:00 AM This. Is. Freaking. Gorgeous.

God wanted us up to see the sunrise over the British Colombian coast, and I have to say I’m grateful. The magical hours between Terrace and Prince Rupert’s were both exhaustion-bleared and enchanting. Light slowly illuminated the sharp slopes of islands and pine-covered peaks, while the rivers mingled with the ocean along the water-bound highway.

Just when we thought it couldn’t get better (or worse, as the perspective may be) we were nearing Prince Rupert, and saw a dark shape dart across the road ahead. The Captain slowed down, and we rolled down our windows, eager to catch another glimpse of the black bear that had crossed the road.

Suddenly, a dark head popped out of the brush, staring at the car curiously. Quickly, the bear ducked back down, but just a few feet further in a different bear lurched out of the greenery, totally invisible until he had to get a peek at our car!

After this, the two bears spooked and disappeared into the forest, but not before Alyssa snapped a picture.

6:00 AM A tired crew pulls into Prince Rupert, a town we hadn’t expected to see for another two days. Here, at last, on this ocean edged, pine encumbered town, we found a place to stay after several false starts: Inn on The Harbor, which sounds about like its name, and had the most spectacular view left.

8:00 AM None of the crew were left awake to appreciate the view or even the fact that the hotel was roasting hot. The crew had a home at last—for now, at least—and though there would be challenges and much shopping ahead in the oceanside town of Rupert, we were only concerned with ending our nearly 24 hour day of driving.

There would be shopping, odd little shops, and chats with Canadians to come before we boarded the ferry, but that can wait for a short entry and another day.

Skipper Krystal and Crewmember Alyssa