Here are the fish the bears would have been eating. At least I didn't come away empty handed, or did I?

Ow.  I’ve been Hyderized.  Deeply.  After three hours of sleep, we’re all up (I convinced Vance and Kate to sleep on my floor instead of their car.  I mean, they entertained us with a rousing revelry till 3 or 4 am.  It was the least I could do.).  We get up at 7am (dumb) to drive up the road to check out the grizzlies feeding on salmon.  And we showed up about 20 minutes late.  Bastards.  I have found the wildlife out here to be very uncooperative.  It’s very frustrating.  The ranger lady even yelled at me for walking in the street because there were so many grizzlies wandering around a short while ago.  They are so inconsiderate.  Oh well, it was another beautiful drive up the dusty dirt road, and now it’s time to put some miles on – after a cheese and bacon omelet at the King Edward hotel across the border in Stewart of course.  Yum.  Might be my 10th of the trip.  Getting on that health train as soon as I get home.  I did really well the first day or two with no potatoes or bread…  And then the wheels fell off.  Badly…

We have probably seen 50 bears, and this is my only freaking photo of one! Looks more like a big dog from here. Yes, that blak spot is the bear.

So, on the ride up the dirt road to see the bears, Brad was cruising along when he heard a huge crash.  He looked back to find his top case (the one all the way back in the middle) had flown off the bike and crashed on the road.  Everything was everywhere.  We’re talking full on yard sale as a semi is trying to make it’s way up the road. After staring the semi down, he collected his crap and duct taped it to his bike. We are slowly falling apart.  More on that later.  I’ve been meaning to do a post about some of our gear, but too much is happening each day, and the internet blows, so I have no time.  Traveling and blogging is hard!  As Brad said, “Dude, we’re doing too much blog-worthy (our coined term) shit to have time to blog!”  I know!  I am almost embarrassed by each post after I post it when I think of all the things I COULD HAVE said after time to think about it.  How can I be expected to work under these conditions!

Before I continue on with our journey, an occurrence first thing this morning reinforced my love of Canadians and Alaskans.  While we were all groggily waking up and standing on the second floor deck at the motel, some guy down below yells up – “hey, is that your camera?”  We look at the camera on the railing, and it’s Kates.  “Yea.”  So he says, “Well, you guys kept me up until four in the morning with all your racket, and I couldn’t sleep so I took a walk and found your camera” and now I’m feeling bad and I know this guy is going to go ape shit on us.  Great.  “Dude, really sorry about that,” to which he replies, “Ah, it’s ok.  I get that it’s party time.  It’s my fault for living so close to the bar. I like to party too.”  So not only was the guy not mad, he never yelled at us to keep quiet, he sought us out to return the camera (which he EASILY could have just kept), and then he left us with a full dose of kind friendliness.  Unreal.  The travel gods were good to us this day.  The deeper into a trip you go, the more you depend upon luck and good fortune.

Look what's greeting us on the way out of Hyder. What a morning. Too bad about the hangover.

Just another view for you.

So we finally get on the bikes, but I have no idea what time it was – I have three time-telling devices, and they’re all telling me something else.  I’ve entered the time-free zone, the TFZ.  But no matter what time it was, I can tell after one mile of riding that I – am – hurting.  Really, really tired.   At one point, I looked to the right to read a sign, and out of the corner of my eye to the left, I saw a bear crashing down a hill coming after me!  Once I throttled down, I realized something much scarier than the bear – it wasn’t there at all.  I was starting to see things.  Yea, that’s tired.  We were not going to make it far today.  We pulled over and  made a plan to go to Smithers and stay at a decent place for the night.  We could only muster 207 miles the whole day!  Be very wary of Hyder! And be extra wary of fiddle playing Atlantans.

Yes, I found the Northern Post. Now in search of the Western Post.

On the way to Smithers, I found the holy land.  Who knew it was located in the middle of British Columbia.  Yes men, it’s worth the trip.  I’d tell you about all the secrets we were told inside, but I’m sworn to secrecy…  This is one of the themes of today’s ride as you’ll see.  Hey, we needed something to keep us awake!  Can you think of anything better?  Oh come on, I was starting to hallucinate at this point.

Seriously? This is clearly a community proud of their agricultural heritage. I respect that.

So, upon entering Smithers, you’re welcomed into the city by some dude sucking on the biggest pipe you have every seen.  I mean, look at the size of that thing!  I’ve heard that British Columbia is supposed to have the greatest weed in the world, but this is just plain showing off.  I’d think some subtelty would be in order.  But no, not in Smithers.  Gee, I wonder what’s going on a the Bulkley Valley Exhibition.  A taco eating contest or a strange sandwich making contest?  Yes, herring and peanut butter DO go together as long as there’s barbecue sause included.  I think I saw the guy with the pipe wandering the streets of Smithers later in the night – he was molar deep on a hot dog while his other hand was buried in a half-gone bag of Doritos.  He wouldn’t be bothering anyone that night.

Like the wilderness in which they run, a photograph cannot do justice. Say hello to the local beaver...

I think Smithers is the cute girl capital of British Columbia, and they all work at the Aspen Lodge.  I’m just sayin.  Jade and company  made us feel very welcome, well fed, and fully fueled with good wine.  And they were fine with me holding the beaver.  Ahh, Smithers.  Why are you so good to me?

On our way out of Smithers, we passed Burns Lake.  Crazy shit, huh?  Does anyone else have a hard time saying Smithers without imitating Mr. Burns?  Smithers, release the hounds.

I am, quite frankly, embarrassed by our mileage for the day, but come on, we were hyderized – to our cores.  As Kate said in her email the next day, “I have so much love/hate for Hyder.”  Could not have said it any better myself.

Hee,  hee, look at our cute little route for the day.  Successfully made it to “T.”