On the road again

17 July 2010
Saturday

Drove through some extremely pretty farm country today on our way south through British Columbia. There were also some very interesting names for towns: 100-Mile House, 75-Mile House and 42-Mile House. They were named for the number of miles each roadhouse was along an old trade route. Imaginative, eh?

As we approach the town of Cache Creek, the valley is getting more and more narrow. Just before the town itself we exited onto a "scenic" route toward the coast and Vancouver. We passed through two mountain ranges: the Lillooet Range and the Coast Mountains. It is a high, dry desert much like the area around Santa Fe, NM. There is a creek flowing through the U-shaped valley from which farmers get water for irrigation so that there is a patchwork of green appliqued throughout the desert. Then we turned into another valley: this one is lined with tall limestone peaks and punctuated by beautiful little lakes, one so turquoise green that it looks dyed.

Once we passed the town of Lillooet we traversed mountains via an old logging road: switchbacks, one-lane bridges, curvy, steep with drop offs on one side and steep mountains on the other. The scenery is fabulous at least for the passenger. Finally we reached the valley floor. Next we passed through Whistler: yup, where the Olympics were. Then we meandered downward only now the road is much better. It was redone for the Olympics. Next we drove along the Howe Sound, literally hanging on the side of the coastal mountains. We soon arrived in Horseshoe Bay and suddenly we are in line for the ferry to Vancouver Island. Not quite the time line we had planned but it worked and the crossing was smooth and sunny.

And so we say farewell to the Milepost, our Bible since entering Canada north of Whitefish, MT. We will now have to rely on brochures, maps and atlases. We didn't realize how dependent upon it we had become.

After almost two hours on the ferry crossing the Strait of Georgia, we dock in Nanaimo on the island of Vancouver. We headed toward Port Alberni in the center of the island hoping to find a campsite for the night. When we found the Sproat Lake Provincial Park we were disappointed to find that both campgrounds were full so we followed the example of a couple of campers and made our home for the night in the parking lot. Hey, it beats camping in a Wal-Mart parking lot!

The worst they can do is tell us to leave.