Hello Blogfans! There is not a lot to say, and not many pics, because I have been following the slab that is the Alaska Highway in my quest to reach Edmonton to get the bike tyres changed and see the mall. I am now in Dawson Creek, British Columbia, after a day characterised by rain/sun, rain/sun, BLOODY SLIPPERY METAL BRIDGES, rain/sun, then finally beautiful sun only.
I stayed in Fort Nelson last night, a medium sized town built on gas and oil exploration. It was sunny when I arrived, and upon approaching town looked for the campground. Well, I couldn’t find it. I trawled through many of the back streets and still couldn’t find it. The Fort Nelson hotel called my name, and it was cheap. I stayed there. Bugger the New Rules and other such crap.
Something strange happened in Fort Nelson. I looked out the window during the night and it was dark. Fair dinkum dark! I hadn’t seen dark for what seemed like weeks, it was always either twilight or bright sunlight at various hours of the night.
Fort St John is a town about half an hour north of here. They have a Tim’s! It is situated in a demountable shed because they are renovating the main building, but no worries, I copped my double-double coffee and toasted Everything Bagel (they were out of blueberry). I love Canada.
Whilst I was hurriedly shovelling this in outside the temporary building, a Canadian bloke approached me for a chat. This happens pretty much every time I stop. Like all the others, he was very interested to know where I’d come from, and delighted that I was seeing his country. Also like the others, he expressed a degree of concern that I was travelling alone. I told him I liked it like that – there are very few people I even want to ride with – and he reckoned it would be more fun travelling with someone. He shook my hand and wished me well. You Canadians, you’re a great mob, you know. Fair dinkum, Aussies, they have all been so welcoming and kind to me. Any of you thinking of an overseas trip, this is the place.
Got to Dawson Creek, mile 0 of the Alaska Highway. You may remember me posting a photo of the other end of the Alaska Highway when I was in Delta Junction, Alaska. Well, this is the beginning.
Upon reaching Dawson Creek, I checked out the Edmonton map to find the location of Argyll BMW. I had contacted them that morning to enquire about the tyre change and general bike check. They are in 63rd Avenue, Edmonton. Should be a breeze to find, I thought. Edmonton streets, on the face of it, look quite logical. You have 1st street through to a hundred and something street going north-south, then 1st avenue through to a hundred and something avenue going east-west. So this place should be easy to find, right? Nup. 63rd Avenue starts. Then it stops at a dead end. Then it commences a few streets over, then stops again. And so on. Hmmm…this is going to be a barrel of laughs to find, I thought. Bear in mind I have been travelling through one-street towns for quite some time now, and the trauma of the LA freeways has not completely left me. So I’ve spent quite some time studying Google Street to work out a route, and think I have been successful. If I just follow certain highways and take right turns only, it’ll be a breeze. Yeah!
In my next Blog I will tell you how it went. Pretty certain it will be a gigantic and, to you, amusing stuff-up! Seriously though, it shouldn’t be a problem and I’m sure I’ll find it. If I get lost I am confident someone will help me out.
You may think the right-turn only route is amusing, but it is actually a la my Dad who, in Australia, will only acquiesce to driving somewhere if the route exclusively involves left turns. This sometimes necessitates any unwitting passengers bringing a picnic lunch and maybe even camping gear.
Well, those familiar with Aussie politics would have witnessed [now former] Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s sobfest following his defeat at the hands of Australia’s first female PM, Julia Gillard. I’m sorry, but in my day men were men. Don’t stand up there and blubber when something goes wrong. That sort of thing is reserved for me, when my bike decides to slide around in the mud, or when I can’t find a Tim’s. Onya Julia. As I wrote to a friend a couple of days ago, pity she’s Labor, but good on her anyway, although she’s probably as useless as the rest of them on the left side of politics. Julia, be kind to the poor RAAF staff, who will live in perpetual and varying states of trauma following Kevvy’s alleged tantrums when they served him turkey sandwich instead of chicken. You’re a turkey, Kev. To the backbench with you, and preferably in the corner, facing away from the rest of us.
I say this partly out of loyalty to my roots as the daughter of (National Party supporting) western Queensland graziers, and partly due to the fact that the dollar sat at 94 cents US when I left Aussieland in May, and was 84 cents a few days ago, thanks to Kevvy’s deadshit policies.
Well, it is time to finish this and look for a campground close to, or in, Edmonton. Thank you to everyone for your comments on the blogs. It is very rewarding and, needless to say, flattering, to hear you are enjoying them. Until next time, ‘bye.