Day 1: There’s not much to recommend Winnipeg but if you want to start a motorcycle tour from the Centre of Canada; then it is a handy place to live.

Away early, into a stiff breeze. Avoiding the Trans-Canada Highway by sticking close to 49th Parallel. Westbound, all day on the KTM 790; flicking through the computer read-outs as flat and straight roads gave plenty of time to think of what was to come.
Oxbow municipal camping and nobody came to collect the fee. Quiet, grassy site by the river; a warm day and evening. 

  Day 2: Cramp during the night in calf and thigh. Am I too old for this? Riding and tent camping at 67 after 20 years of no riding. The bum aches too, even with padded cycling shorts.

Out of Manitoba: one day. Out of Saskatchewan: one day. Flat land that seems to be running downhill; but it is only the curved surface of the planet. Pushing on, using minor roads and rolling through small towns; most with a campground, some neat and tidy, some neglected and overgrown.
I head for something different: Cypress Hills Interprovincial Park, an oasis of hills and forest that was missed by the last Ice Age. Expensive, with park entry fee on top of campsite fee. One of the disadvantages of lone-rider travel. The site is big enough for four.

  Day 3: Disappointed with Cypress Hills; overpriced and gloomy, only the cinnamon bun at the food stand shone. Fine riding weather again, no rain so far. By mid-afternoon the Rocky Mountains are in sight, spirits are lifted but I find I can only do about 90 minutes before needing a rest. A tankful of fuel lasts two riding sessions at about 65 mpg at 65 mph.

Finally out of the Prairies, towards the Crowsnest Pass. The Frank Slide shows how mountains can come down but I push on into British Columbia; heading for a Recreation and Trail Site. Free camping at Hartley Lake, in the hills above Fernie.

  Day 4: Two picnic tables, one pit toilet and enough room for three tents. Hartley Lake is a typical Rec Site. User maintained; that means, keep it clean, keep it tidy. Three KTMs call in while I’m packing up. 690, 790, and an 890; three guys out of Calgary. Their last day of five, off-roading in the mountains and it seems they all forgot to bring soap.

Tim Hortons for breakfast in Fernie before heading up to Raduim Hot Springs via Windermere and Invermere. I will be clean even if COVID regulations mean an hour long wait to enter. One of my big issues when touring is having to pay entry fees for natural features of our planet. It seems like every scenic or interesting place has a fence round it, someone has assumed ownership and charges to see or use. Raduim Hot Springs was $8.00, so not too bad but mostly I steer clear of tourist traps.
Another Rec Site for the night helped balance the finances.

 Day 5: Wapta Falls Rec Site, spectacular view across the valley, 5 miles south of the Trans-Canada Highway, east of Golden. Heading back into Alberta for trip along the Icefield Parkway.

Fifteen years of truck driving in North America and I have ticked-off 49 states and nine provinces but the Icefield Parkway has always been forbidden to an 18 wheel-semi. At last a chance to run the most scenic road in the World.
It is beautiful, I am not disappointed. The heart of the mountains in warm sunshine. The jewel in the crown is the Columbia Icefield. I ride to the foot of the glacier; the huge busses on the ice far above look small but the cost of the trip is large. The place reeks of tourist trap but looking past the commercial aspect; it is an awesome site.
I camp at Icefield Tent, a National Park campground. $25 +$10 Park entry. But free free firewood and a warming hut with wood-burning stove. A pleasant evening in the hut chatting to other campers, I get my monies worth by stoking the wood-burner to capacity. Glad I brought my axe with me. 

  Day 6: The body seems to be getting in tune with motorcycle riding and nights on a sleeping pad. Along with shorter riding days and more interesting places to stop and see. Such as Athabaska Falls which has much water and many people, being a Sunday, I suppose. Jasper is heaving too; a quick $20 fuel refill and off to McBride. All along the Yellowhead, a highway that started in Manitoba and will end at Mile Zero in Haida Gwaii. Not that the former Queen Charlotte Islands were my original destination, but since the North West Territory has not opened it’s border to tourists; I have decided on a Pacific ferry ride.

The Lake Cobb Rec Site, between Prince George and Vanderhoof, is home for the night. An awesome tent site at the water’s edge. So incredible that my neighbours come over twice to ask if it is really free of charge.

  Day 7: Booking the ferry to Haida Gwaii proves to be problem: fully booked. I go on the online waiting list and carry on with the Yellowhead towards Prince Rupert. A long day beside the Skeena River. Salmon are in the river, it’s that time of year. I stop at Kitwanga junction, start of the Cassiar Highway. There’s a couple of GS BMWs; American riders heading to Alaska. Unlike my efforts to get to the Arctic Ocean; they should be able to get to Fairbanks.The Prudhomme Provincial Park looks like a good spot to stay. Ready for a quick dash to catch the early morning ferry.

  Day 8: Up early, tent packed-up wet, through town to the ferry terminal. If there is space, I will be first in line. One problem, no boat. Big “am”/“pm” mix-up. It’s a night boat and I am 12 hours early. Duh!

But a days rest in Prince Rupert proves beneficial. A visit to the laundromat and the downtown old port area is a good place to hangout. Good fish and chips, where I chat with the Tiger and GS riders; waiting for the ferry to Port Hardy on Vancouver Island.
The boat from Haida Gwaii arrived at 4 in the afternoon so the ferry office was open and the anxiety of getting a ticket was lifted. There is always enough room to squeeze on a motorcycle. All that worry for nothing.
One other motorcycle lined-up with me on the quay; an island resident on a Harley who seemed to know every other passenger. He gave me the tip of taking bedding up to the passenger lounge. All the cabins had gone and the eight hour trip would have been mighty uncomfortable in a recliner.
I am a terrible traveller, seasickness was highly probable. Thankfully the Pacific was calm, flat-out on a self-inflating mattress was the way to go.

  Day 9: BC Ferries’ Northern Adventure arrived at 6 o’clock in the morning, disgorging vehicles into the darkness. With no idea what was possible, I headed for a Rec Site, threw up the tent and got another couple of hours shut-eye.

The Haida Gwaii Heritage Museum was a good first call. The interesting history was littered with familiar disasters. Alcohol, firearms, smallpox and residential schools had all reeked havoc with a people who only got their land back in 2006. The Haida language and culture survives to this day. Wood carving and formline artwork giving the islands a unique signature.
Five thousand people, 140 kilometres of paved road, sprawling villages and the atmosphere of out-of-season seaside town. I headed North. Agate Beach Provincial Park, thirty klicks of dirt road east of Masset. Awesome wild stretch of coast and sheltered pad to pitch the tent; $18 a night.

 Day 10: Tow Hill is the focus of Haida legend. Ravens and whales, complete with blow-hole. A basalt out-crop backed by an old-growth temperate rain forest. A stepped boardwalk right to the top with information boards at all the lookouts. The highlight of the trip. Walking on a beach is good for the soul, walking Agate Beach is another level.

 Day 11: Second day on the Beach was the first day of rain on the trip. I had stashed some driftwood in the campsite shelter on seeing the forecast and saw out the rain in the warm and dry. Getting into Masset for supplies and a visit to a food truck. Two Co-op supermarkets on the islands have all you need and prices seem fair for such a far flung location. Fuel for vehicles was also reasonably priced although I didn’t see any premium available. But the place is so small that I didn’t need to fill. 

 

Day 12: Back South, a slow trip calling in at everywhere. I can’t foresee another visit to Haida Gwaii, so this is my only chance.
Rest areas, beaches, cafes and a tour of the island’s Rec Sites. Watching the fishing boats come and go; commercial and charter, salmon, halibut and crab. Kagan Rec Site is home for the night, waterside and close to Queen Charlotte Village; just a bit disconcerting to see a black bear bound across the road as I pull in. But at least there are no grizzlies on Haida Gwaii.

 Day 13 and 14: It is another day waiting for the ferry. Somehow the return trip is another night boat. One boat does a round trip every day but skips a crossing. Rain sets in during the journey. Prince Rupert’s Tim Hortons have most of the passengers lining-up and getting wet at 6 in the morning. A drenching day; soaked through by Terrace; cold, wet, tired and hungry by Stewart. I bite the bullet and book into the Ripley Creek Hotel. Expensive but when I see the depth of the bathtub; worth every penny. I may have soaked in deeper baths for longer, but I can’t remember when. 

 Day 15: A former workmate came to Stewart to work at the Brucejack goldmine several years ago. We meet up and gossip for a morning. The afternoon is spent looking for a property; land left to my girlfriend by her father. Land he took as payment for a debt and not somewhere he saw before he died. It looked like marshland at the edge of town but that might just have been because of 24 hours of nonstop rain. There was a Mack Superliner on the neighbouring property; now that did get me interested. A cross border trip into Alaska at the town of Hyder is curtailed by a “Locals Only” sign in the middle of the road. COVID strikes again. 

  Day 16: Dry roads and a chance to appreciate the splendour of Highway 37A as it climbs away from Stewart and up to the Bear Glacier. Scenery on a par with the Icefield Parkway. Decision time at Meziadin Junction; do I take the Cassiar north and loop round through Watson Lake or retrace tracks to Kitwanga and Prince George. The fast disappearing tread on the back tire dictates the shortest way home.

Just south of the junction; halfway round a left hand bend: a grizzly bear. Walking along the roadside concrete barrier. With no time to stop or turnaround before reaching the animal; I flick on high-beam, blare the horn and aim straight at it. Finally getting the grizzly’s attention, it hops off the barrier and down the bank. In all probability muttering,
“Damn, those KTM horns are pathetic.”

 Day 17 to 19: Always a sense of sadness; heading home. Just mileage to grind out. Rec Site camping, cheap small prairie town campgrounds. Coop Lake, Fabyan and Yorkton. A tailwind helps the trip economy.

The tire is a worry; U-Haul one way van hire is the contingency plan. But as the tire wears, more rubber is in contact with the road and wear seems slower. Then a puncture at the back; my first time using a repair cord in a motorcycle tubeless tire. The little baby inflater does a good job too. No noticeable oil consumption on the 7420 kilometre trip and the KTM never missed a beat. My body on theother hand probably wondered what the brain was doing. Sleeping in a tent, hours of motorcycle riding that had never been done before and all when an old man should be sitting at home with his feet-up. COVID has a lot to answer for.