Everything was
perfect. It was barely dawn and the weather forecast was hot and sunny.
My Harley was loaded. I couldn't have stuck an extra package of matches
in my luggage. There simply wasn't room.I noted the reading on her
odometer (111,455 Kms) as I started her massive engine. I took off into
the darkness being careful not to wake the neighbours however tempting.
That's the kind of guy I am. HWY 99N was clear and I made good time.
Before long I was roaring through Squamish, Brackendale, Whistler and
Pemberton. I stopped in at a Cafe at Pemberton for a bite and I treated
myself to some kind of tasteless, gooey pastry and a coffee. I didn't
stick around though I carried on towards Lillooet and after going
through that town I had to stop, dismount, and take
the breathtaking photo shown here. I felt like I was on a cloud looking
down. Just like an Angel does. The near vertical sides of mountains
below and the tiny-looking rivers winding their way through the deep
valleys was awesome. I found it hard to move on. This was nature's
paradise. This is what makes it all worth it.
100 Mile House BC
Its
rather a strange name but its a full size town located along HWY 97N
just after the Caribou Double-Carriageway terminates. Its not the first
time I've been through 100 Mile House and I knew the staff at the Super 8
Motel there. They let me have a room without a reservation. The timing
was perfect. As soon as I'd unloaded my Harley the thunderstorms came. I
went for a coffee and a sandwich at a local restaurant and I came back
soaked like a drowned rat. I deserved it. Even though I knew I'd left
my rain-suit in my room I chose not to go back and get it. I
went anyway.
Not the Pennines
I
had anticipated a very long riding day on day two. I wanted to go
West among HWY 24 past Lone Bute, Bridge Lake and Little Fort and then
North along the Yellow Head Trail all the way to the Alberta
Border. Somewhere around Bridge Lake I had to stop and pull over. It was
the second time in my life that I had seen a view just like this one
and every bit as beautiful. The first time was when I was hiking in the
Pennine Hills in Northern England a little North-West of the City of
Manchester. I felt as if I was there a second time. I laid down
in the long grass surrounded by wave upon wave of beautiful flowers. For
the longest time I enjoyed watching them blowing gently in the breeze
while I enjoyed a few flashbacks to my youth. I didn't know places
existed like this in BC even though BC has a special kind of beauty all
of its own. While my mind was far away in my beloved England I heard
the rustling of a large animal grazing some yards behind me. It was a
deer, thank God, and not a black bear which are prevalent in the area.
As beautiful as it was - I had to remind myself that this was not my
beloved Pennine Hills in the UK.
FULL STORY > HERE
