It's been an epic trip just to get here. We set off from Whitehorse last Monday morning and navigated the icy Stewart Cassiar Highway where the mountain scenery is breathtaking and the caribou outnumber the cars 2:1. Despite closed gas stations along this winter route, our little Suzuki, loaded down to the gills with clothes and dog paraphenalia and and a boogie board, made it into Prince Rupert at 2:30 a.m. early Tuesday. Having surveyed our options on www.dogfriendly.com, we pulled up to the Crest Hotel but it was full up with an Aboriginal basketball tournament. So the friendly desk person called over to the Anchors Inn to see if they'd let us in. And voila, the door was unlocked for us in the wee hours of the a.m. We had great trails to explore out back during the week, and while the roads were clear when we arrived, there was a massive snowdump that followed soon after. We hadn't escaped winter's clutches yet.
I spent the week waiting for the Friday ferry doing all those niggly little moving things, applying for a BC drivers license and health card, getting my taxes done, and exploring friendly Prince Rupert. Down by the docks I discovered a cool little cafe called Cowpuccino, where I could get wifi and stay in touch with the world.
On Friday, we were so jazzed about our new adventure that we arrived a couple of hours before being loaded onto the ferry. The dogs sniffed around the grass, and here's a travel tip I would learn to my chagrin, if you have a dainty particular dog like Owl, take some grass with you on the ship. While Wolf happily peed on truck tires below decks where they kept the kennels, Owl steadfastly refused to go on the concrete floor. As a result the helpful ship purser called me for a wake-up around 2 a.m. so the dogs and I could hit the beach when we docked briefly at Bella Bella.
BC Ferries who provided our passage are absolutely awesome and during the daylight hours I was on deck, with my camera, hanging off the side of the boat to take photos of the Inside Passage, whose icy walls were almost close enough to touch. Sleeping while the ocean slips past your window is an incredible experience and I woke in the morning a little sleep-deprived but jazzed to touch soil on our new island home.
But wait, we still had a 6-plus-hour drive from Port Hardy on the northeast to reach our little corner of the island in the southwest, driving narrow, winding, 30-40 km turns through the mountains as our stuff jostled from side to side and the dogs ducked shifting suitcases. There were many beautiful lakes to stop at along the way and most I simply took note of for exploration this summer. I wanted to get home!
We're now in a cute little open-concept beach-style house where the mudroom/laundry room and showers are the first things in the door so you can peel off your wetsuit from surfing and your sandy shoes from hiking the smorgasbord of local beaches and trails. Our back garden is sculpted with a gravel firepit and a huge stack of wood just waiting for the first summer fire. Adjoining the house is a gated deck where I'll be writing my next blog post as soon as Internet is hooked up, hopefully later this week.
I'm writing this from the local coffee shop with wifi, Cynamoka on Peninsula Rd., where the kind people are letting me occupy a corner as my satellite office. I arrived here during the tail end of the whale watching festival and while I have yet to spot one of the magical grey leviathans from the lighthouse or the Pacific Rim trail where we played yesterday, another one of the patrons here tells me I can expect to see killer whales coming into the harbour soon. I can't wait.
Life is wonderful here, and I feel happy and free. Next task, find a used board and a winter weight wetsuit and jump into the ocean where I belong.
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