Beeline north: 1400 miles to Chicken

Jasper to Hinton to Grande Prairie
Having determined that I'm going to at least try and TOUCH Alaska on this trip, and do my darnedest to keep going and not have this trip stolen from me, I'm making serious miles north and making up for lost time. 

I did get very excited at my first "Alaska" sign, which pointed the way to Hwy 40: "Scenic Route to Alaska!"

Beaver pond and lodge at dusk

Drove from Jasper to Hinton, not a particularly long drive, but then found reliable wifi at the local Walmart. Checked in, wrote a blog post, made a motel reservation for the following two nights so I could take advantage of a reliable wifi connection; was contacted by the insurance investigator, cleared that with Jerri, and and that took up the afternoon. I now have the names of several contractors, as well, so am on the hunt.

Found a nice little park for dinner, but, this is weird: there were about half-dozen BBQ grills on little stands, but only one table to sit and eat at! What's with that? Maybe it's the cold weather? Maybe people bring their own tables and chairs? Everybody eats standing up? Is there a Canadian who can enlighten me about this?

Again, lots of paths, with people out walking happy dogs and kids excited to be out of school for the summer.

Red-winged blackbird has red and gold ribbon stripes
not shoulder pads!

Beaver Boardwalk

In my initial sweep around town (always on the lookout for interesting places), I found that there was a "Beaver Boardwalk" where you could walk around a beaver pond. I've seen a number of beaver lodges and dams, but rarely the beavers themselves because they are generally active in the late evening and dawn, and you have to be very, very quiet so as to not scare them. This sounded like a great opportunity to get up close and personal, especially with the long summer dusk.

I was really impressed with the place. It had been built by volunteers with donated materials, and is very extensive. I can't imagine what it took to build it, sinking all those posts in the mud and then constructing the wooden pathway on top. What a project!

There are several platforms with benches, bridges and a couple of observation towers. Did I mention it was extensive and ALL three kilometers built over water?? That's a lot of material.

It's a real community place, though. Neighbors were greeting neighbors, families walking dogs, kids jumping and laughing. Nobody was being particularly quiet, so I wondered what would happen. I talked with a couple from Washington, D.C. (originally from Germany), and we got our binoculars out and looked for beaver.

No beavers showed up.

Oh, well, it was a nice night to be out with only a few random mosquitoes. Finally, somebody pointed, and I could just barely see a track in the water. Yes! It was a beaver swimming! It actually came down the channel heading purposefully toward the main body of Maxwell Lake, a very shallow body of water adjoining the pond.

First beaver sighting! Can you find it?

I love how you can see the beaver's nose in the mirrorlike reflection.

Well, I was excited to see my first beaver, but a little disappointed that all I could (barely) see was head and a V-shaped streak in the water! However, patience is a virtue, so I waited.

You have to be in the right place at the right time, and keep alert. So here are a bunch of pictures from my evening at the beaver pond!

They are just big rodents, but they are pretty cute with their round, dog-like noses, beady eyes and little round ears. Which is about all you can see of them when they are swimming.

They also are not quite as big as I'd thought — the ones I saw here were maybe 18" long (without the tail, which probably added another 8" of length). For some reason I thought they were bigger.

What makes little furry rodents so cute, even when they are wet?

One of them actually got out of the water for like a few seconds — basically the beaver equivalent of jumping over a fence, but you could see the thick fur. Most of the other times, the fur was plastered to its body, kind of like a 1950s greaser beaver.

It was really fun to watch for them, and as the evening progressed, they came out more and more. They were very habituated to people and apparently didn't mind humans, dogs (all but one was leashed), active children, crying babies, bicyclists or anything else that was out there.

I still didn't notice any raptors, although some owl nesting boxes had been installed nearby.

Inspecting the dam

We started to get more canny about looking for them... when a beaver dives down, it will show its broad, flat tail like a synchronized swimmer showing off her legs. Then, as they swim underwater, they may leave a trail of bubbles — something else to watch for.

The water was so clear that I could even see one swimming under the water. They can swim a surprising distance without taking a breath; at one point we were looking where the beaver dove down, and the next thing we knew the beaver was right at our feet!

Gathering twigs to repair the dam

As the evening wore on, one of the beavers decided it was time to inspect the dam. Very industrious, it would swim along, dive down and gather up greens and twigs and mud in its mouth, then deposit it on the top or side of the dam.

There didn't seem to be any particular skill involved. Sometimes it would plop the materials on top; other times it would sort of push the muck up against the edge of the dam to add bulk.

It paid attention to each section of the dam in a seemingly methodical manner, then worked back to the point where it started. Quite fascinating to watch.

Wood piles along the dam

There were mysterious piles of wood along the dam — they sort of looked like aborted or practice lodges, but they weren't in the middle of the pond, they were on the dam itself. These were as tall as I was!

I really wanted to see how they managed to drag those big pieces of wood up onto these structures. It's one thing to float the wood in the water, but another to fight gravity. They must be quite strong!

With the sun truly setting, and the mosquitoes becoming just a tad troublesome, it was time to leave.

Sunset over the beaver ponds

I spent the night in the Walmart lot. With the holiday weekend and campsites being full, there was a regular gypsy caravan there — probably more than 20 RVs, trailers, boats, and toy haulers. At least at this Walmart, it was okay to park in the lot, unlike the one in Calgary where parking restrictions were rigorously enforced.

On to Grande Prairie

I knew I had a 3-4 hour drive ahead of me, so had gassed up the night before and was all ready to go in the morning.

There was a great evacuation of the gypsy camp on Sunday morning. We travelers are like ghosts, arriving in the night and leaving before long light, only showing tire tracks as our passing.

Now, the one thing about "camping" in the Walmart lot is that with so many other people around, it's a bit difficult to answer the call of nature, since I don't have "facilities" in N0MAD.

"Kelley's Bathtub" at William A. Switzer Provincial Park

Interesting bi-color Indian paintbrush with lacy petals!

I'm sure some of you have wondered about this.

Fortunately, I have been blessed with a strong bladder, but it is definitely something that I consider when figuring out where to street camp. There's always a "plan ahead" factor in the early evening. "Real" facilities can be found at: gas stations, public buildings, larger stores (grocery, Walmart), fast-food restaurants, cafés, sometimes parks and schools.

When in dire need, I have driven the vehicle up against a fence, wall or hillside, opened the two doors of the vehicle and used them to make two sides of a private space (the car is the third; the hill the fourth). This works as long as there aren't multi-level structures nearby. I've heard some ladies employ an umbrella to provide some measure of privacy.

I haven't yet had to resort to using my shovel, but I have one along, should I need it. TP is bagged and put in the trash. I'm glad I no longer have to worry about a period. Men have it so much easier!

On this morning, I knew there was a provincial park (William A. Switzer PP) a few miles outside of town, so made that my first stop. Despite the drippy rain, it was a pretty place, and would have been a nice place to kayak. No wind, nice beach, and some very opinionated ravens.

Big Berland River – gorgeous lichen

They even had TABLES and benches to sit and eat at, AND a covered shelter (with DRY tables and benches), so I had breakfast there as well.

With miles to go, and knowing how I like to stop and look at things, I set off again in steady rain. For once, it was a good day for it to be raining.

I made another detour at the Big Berland Wildlife Refuge which was supposed to be known for caribou. I learned there are boreal caribou (live locally in the forest) and mountain caribou (these have longer migration routes). I drove out slowly on the muddy dirt road (good 4WD practice in mud), but didn't see any caribou other than the ones on the signs.

I did see a young mule deer buck that leapt back into the forest as soon as it heard the car.

And there was a large flock of swallows that were ferociously attacking a sheet of hay netting that I think had been put down along the river for erosion control. There were so many of them, with such a fluttering of wings in their frenzy to remove the hay for nesting material, that it was quite a sight. The flock of them (maybe 30-50 birds) would circle in, flutter about and peck at the hay, and then take off en masse, only to repeat everything in three-minute intervals. They were okay with the car being close by, but as soon as I got out to try to get closer to them, they all flew away and did not come back.

Swallows after hay

The Big Berland River is apparently a popular spot for anglers. And there were camping spots available here, right along the river. On a holiday weekend! I'm so glad to be starting to see places like this — I've been too long in the cities and towns. It would have been a lovely spot to set for a night or a day or two. No spectacular mountains, just the gentle murmur of the water, some wildflowers, and maybe some caribou!

Free Canadian firewood; needs splitting

At the campsite, there were the usual admonishments about bears and keeping a clean camp. And apparently free firewood.

I'm beginning to regret not having that axe. It's been on my thrift-shop list.

I did get to thinking, however, about all those choice wood-splitting scenes in some favorite movies.

So where's the hot Canadian or British or Aussie or whatever guy with the axe?

Whoops, how'd Richard Sharpe get in this blog?

The scenery along this route may be pastoral, but it doesn't knock one's socks off. Lots of trees. Lots of signs  to"do not pass" logging trucks. Swaths of clear-cut hillsides, with signs stating when the area was logged.

I did see two caribou along the road, and also some bighorn sheep. The caribou were grayer than I thought — the did not appear to be brown. They do have very distinctive antlers. That was pretty exciting!

Past the city of Grande Cache (named for a trapper's big cache of beaver pelts), there are open coal mines, dug into the sides of the mountains. The seams of coal are readily visible in the road cuts.

Fields of Indian paintbrush

Apparently there must still be a market for it, because there were huge piles of black processed coal awaiting rail or truck transport. It was interesting to see a modern tipple — not much has changed from the processing methods at Leitch Collieries, except that metal is used than wood, and is consequently more shiny.  Gravity is still used to convey the product for processing — those old miners knew what they were doing!

And then the transition is made to oil and gas as the primary industry. Oil tanker trucks made up a lot of the traffic. The wells are shielded from the view of the road, but they are there; seems like every few miles there is another oil/gas well. At once place there was a tower with an orange flame; burning off methane(?)

There was also a good deal of road construction. Interesting to note that they were working on a holiday weekend, but I guess the season is short, so they have to make the best of the time that they have. It was inconvenient, but moved along pretty well. 

And I do have to mention the wildflowers, which have been spectacular. 

One of my favorite pictures — just look at that fat bee & glossy wings!

Between the road and the forest is a wide swath of verdant growth, with grasses, low bushes and wildflowers. There are gardens of Indian paintbrush in red, orange, coral, yellow and white hues; pink, white and purple clover; carpets of sweet yellow clover (Melilotus officinalis); purple fireweed, cow parsley aka wild carrot aka Queen Anne's lace (Daucus carota); vetch; yellow buttercups; and so many more. 

Really quite takes one's breath away. 

Grande Prairie is a big city (70,000, although it's very spread out). My initial sense is that it's industrial (oil, gas, mining and logging) rather than agricultural. 

Motel (Redwood Suites) was quite a bit out of town, but that was fine, as I certainly had enough to eat, and needed to write and wash and keep in touch with people, anyway. Wifi has been awesome. Cold refrigerator, so getting ice frozen again. Their full breakfast kept me going all day. I have permission to have a late checkout and/or work in the business center, as I'll need to try to contact contractors since today was pretty much a bust, being the Fourth of July. 

Pompoms of pink clover

I've also looked into getting a Canadian phone or sim card for one of my old phones (which I'd had the foresight to bring with me). There's a service called YAK (https://www.yak.ca/yak-travel-card), that if I were in more civilized parts of Canada would probably be a good alternative. I would still have to purchase Canadian minutes, but calls to the US are only $.035 per minute, which is pretty darn good. The problem is that there are no access codes for where I'm going, so I do think the most reasonable thing is to just get over the border.

According to Google, I'm 26 hours (2200 km = 1400 miles) away from Chicken, Alaska. That would be two or three long days of driving, which I certainly could do, but of course I wanted to tarry in the Yukon. Decisions, decisions.

Another Richard splitting wood (Legend of the Seeker)