Pt 17. Smithers, British Columbia

We’re on the road for much of today and start to get a sense of exactly how vast this country is. If America is big then Canada’s just ridiculous; 200 miles = one fingernail on our map.

A few fun facts: British Columbia is bigger than the UK, Ireland, Belgium, Holland and much of northern France combined.

You could also squeeze California, Oregon and Washington State into an area the size of BC.

If the UK was made out of wax (eh?) and melted down (what?) then poured into the shape of BC (nurse!) it would only fill a quarter of the mould (ah, now we understand …that’s actually quite interesting).

And yet British Colombia is only the fifth largest of the 13 Canadian provinces and territories.

We find a nice riverside campsite near the fabulously named Smithers and have time for a nice walk to a viewpoint overlooking the Hudson Mountain glacier. 

It’s warm enough for t-shirts but by the time we’re in bed the thermometer dips below zero. This is crazy nonsensical weather.

Another fun fact for you - I’m full of ‘em today: people from Smithers call themselves Smithereens.

So here we are; a couple of Smiths surrounded by 5000 Smithereens. We’ve already found the Canadians to be warm accommodating folk but somehow this makes us feel even more welcome. 

Pt 16. Port Hardy, Inland Passage, Terrace, British Columbia

It takes 2 full days to drive from Tofino to Port Hardy at the northernmost tip of the island. It’s not that we’re slow, it’s because there’s so much to see we have to stop every 10 minutes.

Once we’re north of Campbell River things start to become wilder and the campsites harder to find, especially as it’s so early in the season and many are yet to open.

Just as we think we’ll be kipping in a field I spot a sign at the entrance to a farm saying campervans welcome. This is brilliant. Not only is it a snip at $20 but there are hot showers and when it starts chucking it down the owners suggest we park in a huge barn to keep dry.

The resident dogs, Birch and Coda are cool too. Birch is the size of small hippo, which is just as well as it’s his job to keep bears off the property. Yikes! this bear business just got real.

From Port Hardy we jump on the overnight ferry up to Prince Rupert. We’ve been looking forward to this ever since we came away. A 300 mile, journey through BC’s ‘inside passage’ (no smutty jokes here please, you’re better than that), meandering past countless inlets and coves the scenery is something like this: Snow capped mountains, trees, water. More mountains, more trees, more water. Then a few more mountains, some more trees and a bit more water.

 

It goes on like this for mile after mile, hour after hour. With only the occasional logging barge for company.

It’s incredible. And thanks to the islands on our western flank (starboard? port? I don’t know, one or the other) we’re sheltered from the big swells coming in from the Pacific so the waters are mercifully calm.

Again, because the summer season hasn’t got going yet the ferry is only about a quarter full so there’s loads of room to stretch out. Most passengers book a cabin but we’re happy to save a few bob and spend our time on the sundeck taking everything in.

The boat is aptly named.

If you’re considering a visit to Canada we can’t recommend this trip highly enough. Come at this time of the year and you’ll have hundreds of miles of wilderness to yourself. Okay, so it’s chilly but if you get the clear blue skies we’ve been treated to you’ll struggle to find anywhere in the world quite as special.

It’s really is that good.

Once we’re back on the mainland we find ourselves with the same problem we had two days ago – no campsites are open.

Despite the ‘campsite closed’ sign we drive down a dirt road and end up at a gorgeous lakeside site. The owner, Michael, tells us he’s not ready for the season yet and the facilities aren’t up and running but we’re welcome to park up for the night. He refuses to take any money and brings us hot fresh coffee in the morning.

What a kind and generous man. And what a place to spend our first night in north British Columbia.

As we're leaving we spot a couple of beautiful Loons out on the lake. They're normally quite elusive, often heard but not seen, so it's a real treat to view them up close.

Pt 15. Port Alberni / Tofino, British Columbia

Anything north of Victoria is known as ‘up island’ and as the island is more than 280 miles long we soon discover there’s a whole lot of up. Our first dropping off point is Port Alberni where we call in on our friends David and Margo.

This is fabulous for a few reasons:

1.   Insider knowledge. David was born and raised in British Columbia and there’s nothing he doesn’t know about the province. He gives us some great tips on what to do and see. We spend the afternoon pottering about on the harbour front where learn a bit about the local logging industry then go for a lovely walk to the Stamp River Falls.

2.   Food. He used to work as a high-end chef in Ontario and treats us to a beast of a feast.

3.   Accommodation. We enjoy a night in big comfy bed.

But most importantly...

4. We get to spend quality time with a wonderful couple that we first met four months ago on the Galapagos Islands. Back then it was swimsuits and snorkels today it's winter woolies and whisky but the outcome is pretty much the same; lots of bonhomie and laughter.

No, I don’t know what Wend’s wearing either.

The next day we head to the west coast to set up camp in Tofino, a town once the sole domain of draft dodgers and hippies but now a magnet for surfers, hikers, bird watchers or anyone looking to be close to nature.

It’s absolutely gorgeous and Wend plays a blinder by reserving a pitch right on the beach. This region has a reputation for having lots of foggy damp weather – we’re on the edge of a rainforest after all – but with sunshine forecast for the next 3 days we take the tough decision not to go anywhere else until the end of the week.

It even has its own microbrewery.

And one of these.

Yes, this will do nicely.

On our last day here we drive to Ucluelet for a walk around the peninsula. It’s got a bit of the Cornwalls about it along here and a history of shipwrecks to prove it. After a couple of hundred years of unsuspecting vessels coming a cropper on the rocks they decided to build a lighthouse.

By some distance the ugliest lighthouse either of us has ever seen. 

Nice walk though. 

Apparently this plant is called 'skunk cabbage' and is used by bears as a laxative when they come out of hibernation.  So the next time someone asks you if the big fellas sh*t in the woods you can impress them by saying "yes, but only once they've been on the skunk". 

On our last night we're treated to a glorious sunset. Tofino is some place. We like it a lot.

Pt 14. Victoria, British Columbia

Happy Easter readers!

The sun finally puts in an appearance as we board the early morning ferry from Port Angeles to Victoria. More importantly (for me) it’s a nice calm sea as I’m not great on boats. 

This one is an elegant beauty. Built in 1959 she’s like a smaller version of one of those classic liners posh people used to use to cruise the Atlantic.

At last we get to see the highest peaks of the Olympic National Park albeit from the ocean but it’s a glorious sight that will live long in the memory.

Victoria is a town I’ve wanted to come to for the best part of 50 years. My mum’s brother moved here from Glasgow in the late ‘60’s and used to beguile us with stories of how beautiful it is. He worked as a printer and would send glossy magazines full of photos of bears, mountains and the great Canadian outdoors.

I don’t want to put too many downers on what large industrial Scottish towns were like back then, but when he landed here he must’ve thought he’d rocked up in paradise.

Victoria is exactly how we envisaged; charming, relaxed and full of handsome civic buildings. Our campsite is right on the waterfront with a boardwalk leading to the city centre allowing us to soak up all that’s good about the place – otters and seals in the harbour, kayakers and paddle-boarders making fools of themselves…

 …and noisy boat-planes buzzing back and forth. There’s something wonderfully old fashioned about a boat-plane and they fit right in here.

Yes, we like Victoria a lot.

A couple of folk we’ve met on the trip told us not to miss Victoria’s famous Butchart Gardens.

All very colourful and meticulously maintained but to our eyes somewhat lacking in soul.

It’s certainly a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours but we like our flora a bit more rugged and real these days. Bloody expensive too, which may have tainted our impression of the place.

Back on the road tomorrow where it's free to look at the trees.

Pt 13. Olympic National Park

In an effort to stay one step ahead of the wet stuff we move to 3 different campsites in our 3 day stay in Olympic. Eventually someone points out that ostensibly we’re in the middle of a rainforest and with some parts of the park receiving 14ft of rain each year we should just go with the (considerable) flow.  

Yes, it’s a bit soggy and of course some blue skies wouldn’t go amiss, but the constant rain actually adds to the atmosphere of the place and really makes it something unique and special.

We see lots of amazing wildlife here. Sea otters, hummingbirds, bald eagles and racoons are just some of the creatures I manage not to take a photo of.

However… check out this selection: 

Salmon leaping upstream to spawn. The river is in full flow and the effort they put in battling the rapids is remarkable.  

Jumping spider. He had his many eyes on my cheese sandwich.

Lesser spotted boot warbler. 

 

And an even lesser spotted cornflake-eating cockney.

The scenery is spectacular, especially at the higher elevations where there’s more snow. We enjoy a walk along the ominously named Hurricane Ridge where on a clear day you can see the 8000ft Mount Olympus in all its glory. We see lots of clouds. 

All the national parks we have visited have been a terrific but Olympic is right up there with the best of them. A fitting and magnificent end to our stay in the US that sets us up nicely for Canada tomorrow.

…wonder if it rains much over there? 

Pt 12. Long Beach, Washington State

What to say about Long Beach, WA? Well firstly it's absolutely nothing like its glitzy Los Angeles namesake. And secondly, it has a long beach …funny that eh?

It’s a quirky old place of about 8000 residents strung along a 15 mile peninsula near the mouth of the Columbia River. Many have dropped out to live a simple alternative life including our delightful hosts Bonnie and Jeff, a couple of throwbacks who let us camp on their front lawn and make use of the facilities for a small fee.

Dom the cat is very friendly and extremely large. Here he is helping me write the blog.

They also have an assortment of battered old vehicles most of which would struggle to make the end of the street.

But most importantly they have big welcoming hearts and we love staying with them. Sadly they’re late risers so we don’t get a photo before we leave. 

To compensate here’s another one of Dom. He was a big fan of the van.

We didn’t manage to walk the full length of the beach but gave it our best shot.

The holiday season is yet to get going so we had it to ourselves. Well, apart from a few thousand Snowy Plovers, a handful of seagulls and a shedload of seaweed.

Pt 11. More Portland and a bit of Astoria

The defining landmarks of Portland are the bridges. There are 14 in total, 12 spanning the Willamette and 2 across the Columbia. Constructed in all shapes, colours and sizes, they provide a dramatic dimension to what would otherwise be a fairly nondescript city skyline.

Then there are the breweries. If there are 14 bridges there must be 140 local craft breweries. Every block seems to have its own bar selling a different selection of IPA’s, pilsners and porters. They’re all top notch too. It’s a veritable beer drinkers’ paradise.

A few years ago someone had the genius idea of organising a 10k run that combined the best of both these worlds. A keen runner and occasional imbiber, I sign up for the ‘Bridge to Brews’ and join 5000 others for a leisurely jog over the bridges through the town and into a huge temporary beer village to sample as many ales as is deemed acceptable at 9.30am on a Sunday.

I’ve competed in quite a few running events in my time but never experienced anything quite like this.

There’s a live band knocking out disco classics, there’s a dressing up box for the folk who didn’t bother running but still want to join in. And there are food stalls handing out free cheese on toast and hot salsa sauce.

This is my kind of run.

The next day we say goodbye to Steve and Anna who take an early bus up to Seattle for their flight home. It’s been brilliant sharing 3 weeks of the road-trip with two of our closest friends and we’re very sad to see them go.

However, just to prove how fickle we are, less than an hour later we’re enjoying a coffee with our new friends Chad and Jeri. Sorry Steve, I judge my male friends by the length of their beards these days and Chad’s is way more impressive than yours, so you’re dumped.

We first met 4 months ago over a beer (of course) in Costa Rica and vowed to hook up when we were in their hometown. We also get to meet their lovely dog Mazzy who somehow manages to avoid being in the photo despite being the size of a small elephant. 

Then it’s our turn to say goodbye to Portland. We drive 150 miles north to the small community of Long Beach in Washington State, the 6^thand final state on the trip.

Along the way, right on the Oregon/Washington border is the pretty town of Astoria where we spend an interesting couple of hours at the maritime museum. The currents and shifting sand bar at the mouth of the Columbia River make these some of the world’s most treacherous waters and it’s sobering to learn of the hundreds of ships and thousands of sailors who have perished here.

It’s a vast estuary with several large ships at anchor waiting for the tide to turn so they can make their way upriver.

We also spot this chap. Not sure if he’s a Sea Eagle or an all American Bald Eagle but he cuts an impressive figure.

The final leg of the journey takes us across the Astoria-Meglar Bridge, at 4.067 miles the longest continuous truss bridge in the states with a clearance of almost 200ft.

Wonderful stuff. Just need it to stop raining now.