You get what you pay for (haven't we already been down this road)

Some people pay big bucks for adventure; an African Safari, hiking to Machu Picchu. Me, I just stumble through life and let adventure find me. It's free, and you never know what's next!

I had shared my plan with you already. Spend an extra night in Teslin, then move down the road 300 miles to a cabin I found on-line in Dease Lake, B.C. 

Look at me, using the technology, hey?

I found a nice little log cabin for the incredibly low price of $66 US! My concern was whether or not the 12.7 miles outside of Dease Lake was paved. I looked and found no details on this booking other than one room, one bed, book now! So I did. I sure hope it is a paved road.

I received an instant confirmation with a welcome letter from the owners, Jon and Jodi, thanking me and letting me know all the details. I scanned it quickly, saw the directions, but saw nothing about dirt vs. paved. So I skipped over the rest of it because, only one day in advance, there was no refund for cancellations. Besides, for $66, what do you expect?

I set the alarm this morning so I could be up, packed and ready to roll by seven, which was when the diner opened for breakfast. I had the usual ham, swiss and mushroom omelette and had the front tire aimed in the correct direction by 7:30. The morning was overcast and cool, but not as overcast and not as cool as yesterday. Good decision, to stay the extra day, observe Canada Day, then move down the road with a known place to stay.

The miles passed by quickly, as did the kilometers. I soon found myself crossing into British Columbia, then about 75 miles later, back into YT, still on the same road. I had planned to stop shortly after that second border crossing at the small black dot on the map labeled Swift but was disappointed to find that nothing in Swift exists anymore. My turn onto the Cassiar Highway would be coming up before I reached any of the other black circles, so Plan B was to overshoot Highway 37 by a few miles to get fuel. It would be too far on the Cassiar to think I could locate a gas station once I headed south.

To my surprise, but not dismay, there was a small cluster of buildings that had sprung up on the AlCan right where the Cassiar turned south. 

It was only 10:30 when I pulled in at the Nugget City motel, RV park, gas station and gift emporium. When I shut the engine off at the pump I noticed they did not offer Premium Grade fuel. It would be another 150 miles before I had a fighting chance of finding gas. My other option was as detailed above, going slightly out of my way (15 miles?), where I may very well run into the same situation (because of the tremendous distances involved with delivering product up here many of the stations use their entire storage capacity for unleaded regular. Eric, in Teslin, told me his gasoline is hauled in from Edmonton, a distance of over 1800 Km. I'll let you do the math), and then drive another 15 miles (making a round trip of 60 miles) into Watson Lake. The owner of the station offered an alternative, an octane booster made by STP. I chose this option and ordered a cup of coffee to boot. It was then that I noticed the name of the restaurant, Wolf it Down. Very clever, given the location. I told them about my favorite restaurant name in New Jersey, Shut Up and Eat. They all got a good laugh out of it, given the location.

One thing I have noticed, and am not fond of, is the lack of highway signs up here. As I approached the turn-off for Highway 37 I noticed a sign that had the name of a town on the Cassiar listed, with a right pointing arrow. There was no highway number listed, just Dease Lake (or whatever it was).

When I completed the short drive to the junction there was no signs at all. Nothing saying Cassiar Highway, nothing saying Highway 37, nothing even listing any of the towns along the way. The road was initially very narrow; I wasn't even sure it was a highway. I was, maybe, a quarter mile down the road before I saw an advertisement for a business that said "37" on it!

The road was quite narrow too, leaving little unused terrain should two trucks meet each other going in opposite directions. It was fairly level, winding gently among the birch trees that had recently returned to the area after a large fire several years ago. You could barely see over the top of the trees to see a very large area of similar growth. 

After about 20 miles the road widened and eventually began to dip and turn. I had left Nugget City with about half of my 300 mile trip to go and threatening clouds moving in on several fronts. So I had put rain gear on before saddling up, thinking it would eventually be needed. As I continued south along the river I could see rain off to my right. But when I advanced to the bottom of the canyon the road bent left, leaving me riding under the most slender patch of blue imaginable. This same pattern continued over and over again until, with about 35 miles to go, it started to rain just hard enough to mess up my windscreen and fog up my visor. Then about 10 miles before Dease Lake the weather became more determined. It was at this point that I pulled over and put my rain shoe covers on, knowing it was finally time.

Before arriving in Dease Lake I rolled into Jade City, B.C., a "town" that existed more as a result of a Jade Mining operation than a government acknowledgement. They had a gift store, in front of which was this sign:

The film crew was sitting at a picnic table discussing the script for a "reality" TV show (anyone see the irony there?).

They sold some beautiful, and very expensive, jade carvings, as well as some, very expensive, raw materials for any crafty people that wanted to echo my wife's favorite words, "we can do that ourselves"!

Pick out a piece of broken rock for $20!

As I came into Dease Lake I pulled up at the grocery store/deli, foregoing the gas pumps for the time being because of a long line. For a small town they had a lot of gasoline being dispensed.

It was inside that I had one of the first disappointments of this trip (not counting no stateroom on the ferry, breaking down, spending 4 days waiting for parts, rain and cold weather, etc.). Up to this point, everywhere I had stopped, stayed, or eaten was clean and the people extremely warm and friendly. In the back of the grocery store was a deli where you could order some basic cooked foods (grilled cheese, chicken, fish) and, off to the side, a series of tables, sitting end to end to form a long counter, with chairs on both sides. There were 4 or 5 teens at the near end, then about 10 empty seats on each side of the tables. At every station there was trash; dirty napkins, empty plates, salt or pepper packets and not a single clean portion of table to sit at. I went to the deli counter and waited behind another guy as several employees walked about behind the counter, never once addressing either of their potential customers. The man in front eventually threw the hot dogs, or whatever, back into a cooler in front of the deli counter and walked out, tired of being ignored. I stood there for a bit longer, then when one lady started pulling the baskets out of the fryer empty, I asked if anyone worked there. Only then did the lady acknowledge that I was there, stating that the heaters were shut down now (it was about 4:00). 

I stopped to use the restroom on the way out and it had been trashed with dirty paper towels on the counter and floor and graffiti on every surface inside the room. I picked up hands full of paper towels and disposed of them in the trash can, wondering how long it would be before the trash was emptied. 

After buying gas I asked if there was a restaurant in town, the answer apparently being a big mystery as neither of the clerks knew. One of them finally said someone had a food truck that might be at the school (on a Sunday of a holiday weekend?)

I did eventually find a "food truck" at the school. It was actually a tent camper with a barbecue grill outside. The young lady that was there sold me a hamburger.

I asked why all the cars were at the school and she explained that it was the AGM (Annual General Meeting) for the local First Nation Group. She said she hoped that by setting up there she could boost their business because it was tough for a family of four.

I headed down the road toward the cabin that I had reserved for the night immediately after scarfing down my burger because the rain had started again and I had taken off the shoe covers when I went in the grocery store. As soon as I started down the (dirt) road it began to rain even harder. The directions had said it was 12.7 miles down the road to the 16 Mile Cabin. It was frustrating as I watched the odometer click off the miles, first past the 12 mile marker (which I then realized was in kilometers), then 12.7 miles, then 16 miles, with no sign, no indication of where I was, all the while trying to see through my visor, through my windscreen and stay on the road while avoiding several vehicles that went by in the other direction, taking full advantage of the fact that there was no centerline.

Then it appeared, about 17.5 miles down the road, The 16 Mile Cabin! I turned in and found a large log cabin at the end of a forked driveway. 

I walked to the front porch and found a note. This was good because the e-mail had mentioned that I would pay the property owner but said nothing about where I would find said property owner.

The note said, "Michelle, come on in and make yourself at home. In the case of an emergency we are down the road 500 meters, second driveway on the right with a black gate".

Emergency? Let's start with the fact that my name is not spelled "Michelle".

There was another much smaller cabin at the other end of the forked driveway. 

I went over there but there was no note. I returned to the larger cabin and knocked, then walked in. It was very nice inside, certainly more than $66 US nice! On the table was a "Welcome Book", the first page of which reiterated the note, more or less, from the front door. But it then continued, "For those new to "off grid" living there are a couple of things we would like to tell you".

SCREEEEEECH!

Off grid????

I went to the IPad and opened up the Welcome e-mail. At the very bottom of the page under property details, the details that were not available until after you booked the room, it said (in part):

no electricity

no running water

no WiFi

shared community outhouse

no air conditioning

wood burning stove

no food provided 

no telephone service

no TV

I'd say it was bait and switch, but they didn't even have a switch!

I was a little uncertain whether or not this qualified as an emergency but I thought I'd wander 500 meters (.31 miles) down the road to figure out what was happening. I hopped on my bike, rode approximately 500 meters down the road to the second driveway on the right, black gate; all swell so far.

Locked gate, not so well anymore! There was a little black mail box that said "leave a note" on it. I looked down inside and saw paper and pencils at the bottom but I couldn't get my hand down in there far enough to grab a pencil. There was a walkway around the gate so I ventured forth until this driveway also forked. To the right was a wood shed (no dead bodies hanging in view, that's good), to the left was another turn that allowed the driveway to disappear into the trees. Ah, that's got to be where they keep the bodies of the trespassers I thought, remembering an e-mail I received from a less than friendly resident near Clark Fork, Idaho letting me know that they "take trespassing very seriously up here".

I turned around, walked back to the bike, rode back to the 16 Mile Cabin and parked at the end of the driveway. This is going to be another adventure like my night with Dave last year, in Oregon! I pulled out my phone to call the number in the Welcome e-mail, only to have my phone remind me that I was 16 miles off the grid. Every grid. The electric grid, the water grid, the food grid (unless the owners have some trespasser steaks left over), the WiFi grid and, of course, the phone grid. Great, all I need now is a flat tire!