Berries, Back Roads & Old Man Back

Rainy Watson Lake felt like the perfect place to make a decision.

We'd gone north.

We'd made it.

We'd seen bears, bison, moose, mountains, glaciers and more than our fair share of mosquitoes. We'd stood at the Sign Post Forest, reached the Yukon and given the Albino Rhino a proper northern adventure.

Mission accomplished.

Fishing and jewellery were calling, so we pointed the Rhino south. Rather than retracing our steps, we decided to come home via the Cassiar Highway and see an entirely different side of northern BC.

Dease Lake was our first stop, where Cotty had high hopes of reconnecting with the interwebs. There was some BC Hydro Wi-Fi available...

...but "available" and "useful" turned out to be two very different things.

By that point we were both pretty tired. Some might even say slightly grouchy.

So we found a quiet place without any "No Overnight Parking" signs, transformed the Rhino into sleeping mode—which is becoming a much smoother operation these days—and called it a night.

The Cassiar Highway also took us through the traditional territory of the Tahltan Nation, whose lands cover a huge area of northwestern British Columbia. It reminded us of a wonderfully random encounter we'd had months earlier.

Back in January, while waiting in an Apple Store of all places, we'd struck up a conversation with the Band Leader of the Tahltan Central Government. Neither of us could have imagined that a few months later we'd be driving through Tahltan territory in the Albino Rhino.

Naturally, we thought it would be fun to see if we could reconnect while we were passing through.

Sadly, our timing didn't line up, but I still love how travel has a habit of bringing old stories back around again. A chance conversation in an Apple Store somehow became part of this road trip too.

The next day, somewhere near Kitwanga, Cotty cooked up one of his delicious curries in the sunshine. We'd planned on leftovers.

We failed.

Every last bite disappeared.

That night we found a surprisingly peaceful place to sleep between Houston and Burns Lake beside the remains of a burned-out restaurant. It wasn't exactly picturesque, but it was flat, quiet and, once the Rhino shades were up, every flat quiet place starts to feel remarkably similar.

One of the unexpected highlights of heading south was getting to reconnect with my jewellery friend Alisa in Prince George... twice!

A second lunch together felt like such a gift. We spent a little time exploring Prince George, wandered around Connaught Park, admired the view and appreciated something every road-tripper learns to value...

...convenient public washrooms.

That evening we made it back to Tim and Terri's farm in Lone Butte.

Poor Cotty, however, had what he later declared was "one of the worst sleeps of his life" thanks to his increasingly famous "Old Man Back."

Naturally, "Old Man Back" immediately became his new nickname.

Fortunately, he was surrounded by people who took excellent care of him. Between some helpful medication, a good back salve from the local mall kiosk and a day or two of taking it easy, he was soon heading in the right direction. It was also wonderfully lucky that both Tim and Terri happened to have the next day off.

The Rhino appreciated the break too.

We enjoyed long-overdue showers, completely reset the Rhino and even tackled a bonus load of laundry. Our sheets once again resembled... well... sheets. Nobody likes blood stains.

Definitely an improvement.

Ever since Cotty had enthusiastically searched for mushrooms in the remains of a recent forest near the beginning of the trip—and enthusiastically scraped his leg in the process—they'd looked rather like the aftermath of a small massacre.

With everything fresh, clean and reorganized, we packed up the SUP and headed for Green Lake.

The day was exactly what summer should be.

Floating.

Boating.

Sunshine.

Good company.

As an added bonus, Matthew, Faith and little Rowdy joined us. Rowdy is so close to walking now, and we're very much hoping for a "he's walking!" update any day.

Later that afternoon Tim and I wandered down the road to feed the horses again before he piled us all into his Jeep.

Now...

I'm fairly certain Tim drives his Jeep the way most people drive a quad.

He whisked us up logging roads and rough trails to Huckleberry Butte, where we were rewarded with spectacular views across the surrounding countryside before bouncing our way back down again.

Somehow...

Old Man Back survived.

That night we slept incredibly well in our freshly organized and cleaned up Rhino.

The following morning, after breakfast, Tim introduced us to another first.

Haskap picking.

They're absolutely delicious, and we're crossing our fingers that our precious little bag survives the journey home so we can freeze them for smoothies... and perhaps a few experimental batches of haskap hot sauce.

Because why not?

From there we headed south toward Pemberton, following one of the prettiest drives of the trip.

We couldn't pass Pavilion Lake without stopping.

The water is astonishingly clear, but what makes it truly special is what's hidden beneath the surface. Pavilion Lake is home to rare freshwater microbialites—living rock-like formations that scientists study because they resemble some of Earth's earliest life and may even help us understand environments that once existed on Mars.

We weren't there to do science.

We were there because it was gorgeous.

Out came the SUP once again.

The paddle was absolutely perfect, and although the smoky skies softened some of the views, we could still tell this is one of those roads we'll have to come back and drive again on a crystal-clear day.

The Rhino reset also resulted in one completely unexpected breakthrough.

Along the road we'd spent ages trying to come up with some sort of fancy hydraulic arm to hold up the back section that doubles as our table. Nothing we'd come up with was quite right.

Completely by accident, I'd left one of our bungee cords stretched across it.

Cotty took one look at it, moved the bungee to a slightly different spot and...

That was it.

Somehow a humble bungee cord, we had purchased at Princess Auto to stop that piece from sliding around also accomplished what we'd been trying to engineer all along.

It now holds the back section up beautifully, which means we can get into the kitchen and pantry without wrestling with the table, and even better, we can throw the bed into "nap mode" in seconds.

It's one of those tiny changes that completely transforms how the Rhino works.

We were ridiculously excited about a bungee cord.

(I suspect only fellow road-trippers will truly understand.)

By evening we'd made it all the way to Squamish, where one of my jewellery customers kindly rearranged their schedule so we could meet that night.

Afterwards we decided to keep things simple and spent the night in the Walmart parking lot.

It was packed.

Not quite as packed as that unforgettable night in Quebec during what is a special holiday for every road worker's...

...but close enough to bring back the memory.

And somehow, despite being surrounded by so many fellow travellers, we slept just fine.