Day 1: Agassiz, BC, to Whiskers Point Provincial Park, BC
This was to be the longest riding day of our trip as per my itinerary (we all know how that goes), so we decided on an early start, fired up the bikes at the crack of dawn, and rolled out of the driveway, bid farewell by Mom and dog. As we were prepping the bikes in the morning, and for the first few hours, I had Montgomery Gentry's "Gone like a freight train" stuck in my head.
How fitting that, not 2Km into our voyage, we ran alongside the aforementioned freight train.
The morning started out cold through the Fraser Canyon, which meant bulky gloves, grip heaters on high, and no wiggle room for on-the-fly photography. Our first pee break landed us in Skihist park, just north of Lytton, along the Thompson River. I like to stop here for the green grass in the midst of desert-like conditions. An oasis, if you will.
The mounts were ready, not knowing the expanse of landscape that lay ahead of them.
We carried onward and northward, dropping alongside the Thompson for an exhilirating twisty section that was gobbled up readily. By all accounts, I was warned the next few days would yield very little in the paved curve category, so I siezed any opportunity to wear the sides of the tread and save the center for the Alaska Highway.
The road led us to Clinton, which came into view right around coffee time. We stopped at "the place" in Clinton. You know the one, where the locals go, and the actual business in a small town gets conducted. We tried to find "the place" at every coffee/lunch stop we took, and were quite lucky in finding it most of the time.
The hot topic was the unseasonably cool weather, with sidebar conversations including how much has changed over the past 10 years, and the new fence by the park. It was good to be there.
The one motorcycle-related concern we had at the outset from the trip was my Dad's range. We knew that it was going to dictate our fuel stops, so we sought out to find maximum range, first hitting reserve, then running the bike dry completely before topping up.
Dad had to be dramatic in where he hit reserve, not doing it in the laid-back, long stretches of highway, but instead in construction zones, where the traffic was congested and turn-offs were minimal.
Topping up before 100 Mile House
After 100 Mile, the road got more northern in feel. By northern, I mean long, straight, and dull. It's not the optimal road for travel, but at least it allows a person to put in some miles quickly and easily.
Lunch came late in McLeese Lake, and "the place" did not really feel like it until we received our food. There had been no work trucks parked outside, very little local activity in general, but we rolled the dice and came up victorious.
A pee break by a lake,
more construction, or at least the Saturday storage of construction equipment,
and more northern roads, broken up by photographical exploration,
was the extent of our afternoon activities.
We pressed on, the weather trying its hardest not to cooperate.
But, after a good solid day of riding, we made it to our originally planned destination: Whiskers Point Provincial Park.
We talked with the PFOs, inquired on bear activity (nonexistant was the reply), and bought ourselves some firewood to keep the buggies at a distance.
Final mileage, June 27th:
(Just for the record, this day's max speed was a little screwy for some reason. I don't think I ever got up that fast.. Honest, officer.)
Not a bad day. Dad said he'd still had more on reserve if we'd wanted to press on further, but we both thought it was probably best to pace ourselves, lest the trip be over too soon.
The night brought the faintest pattering of rain on the tents, but not enough to dampen our excitement for the days ahead.