AK Highway Roller Coaster Part 2 Ft Nelson, BC to Grande Cache, AB

I left Ft. Nelson feeling good after a day of rest, updating my blog, and receiving a used can of bear spray from my host, Geoff.   I had gotten some warnings that truck traffic would be bad, but I had no idea the next week of riding would be the worst riding of my life.  The Alaska Highway in northeast BC has been taken over by the oil and gas industry, and is now essentially a service road for their business operations, with some RVers and tourists mixed in.  The recent boom is the result of fracking, and there doesn't seem to be any signs of slowing down.

My first day riding south out of Ft Nelson was mostly very good though more remote than I expected.  Low traffic, lots of bears along the road, and plenty of sunshine.  The town of Prophet River is no longer, and the motel/restaurant/RV Park is closed.  The river and creek water ran muddy brown so I was reluctant to try to filter the water with my pump.  A truck driver gave me a bottle of water to get me further down the road.  So the stretch from Ft Nelson to Buckinghorse River would be about 180KM with no services.   

At 120KM I started looking for a place to camp.  I saw some roadside trash bins and a dirt road off the highway so decided to ride down the road to find a place to pitch my tent.  Anticipating the killer mosquitoes I first changed my clothes and covered up head to toe, mosquito net included.  Then I started down the dirt road and all went to hell.  Ever walk in mud that sticks to the bottom of your shoes? I got about 1KM down the dirt road and the mud stuck to my tires causing them to completely lock up.  So I had to drag my bike back to the highway, completely covered in mosquitoes and mud.  I didn't need to worry about surprising any bears.   As the mosquitoes found small holes in my gloves and around my wrists I was cursing loud enough to scare away all living creatures. Once back out to the highway I took my wheels off , scraped out the mud, and went down another dirt road across the street.  I found more wet woods and ferocious mosquitoes.  At one point I looked down and my feet were covered thick with hundreds of mosquitoes.  So I went back out to the road and kept riding. 

At about 150KM I found a gravel lot on the side of the highway and decided that would have to do even though I had no water or safe place for my food. By about 10PM I got my tent set up and a big black Chevy pickup truck pulls in.  Two young guys get out and tell me they saw a bear in the lot about 20 minutes ago and I might not want to camp here.  I had seen half a dozen black bears in the last 75KM so I wasn't surprised, but I wasn't going anywhere.  I asked if they had any drinking water and they handed me armfuls of bottled water.  And then a can of pineapple juice!  Awesome.  They were there working on a gas well coming back from a run to the grocery store in Ft. Nelson.   Without any good tree limbs to hang my food and reluctance to go back into the woods and stir up more mosquitoes, I left my food bag on the ground a couple hundred feet from my tent.  I did my best to seal the food up and keep odors in.  Food was still there in the morning. 

The next day I rode another 30KM into Buckinghorse River, which was the start of riding in truck traffic hell.  Buckinghorse River has a restaurant, motel, and "camp" for the oil and gas workers.  Working in the oil/gas wells is referred to as working in the oil patch, and the oil patch camps are not really camps, but temporary dormitory style housing for the workers working in remote areas, almost exclusively male. Not very nice places generally.

As I rode into Buckinghorse River thundershowers came through getting me wet and turning the road and parking lot into a muddy mess.  I went into the cafe for a hot cup of tea and muffin.  As I sat there a worker came in to tell the owner a bear had been hit by a truck and was lying in the road half alive.  The worker gave him directions and the owner went to put the bear out of its misery.  I went to pay for my tea and muffin and the waitress told me not to worry about it.  She seemed too busy and stressed out to deal with such a small transaction.  And she was very nice to me. Business was seemingly very good, but the place was for sale and I didn't get the impression anyone wanted to be there.  

There is a near constant stream of massive trucks along the AK Highway south of Buckinghorse River.  There is an ever increasing network of dirt roads being constructed off the highway to access the oil/gas wells and facilities.  With all those massive trucks coming and going they distribute a lot of dirt, mud, and gravel all over the road, which mostly ends up in the shoulder.  

Poisonous HS Gas signs along the side of the road kept me from looking down these roads for camping spots.  

The most stressful unpleasant riding experience I have had.  Traffic was generally moving well over 70 mph.  For the first time I thought about hitching a ride.

Many of the trucks carrying rig equipment are so large they took up their lane and the shoulder.  

Another camp 

Most oil and gas workers are making good money.  They work a lot of hours and many are making 6 figure incomes I was told.  So they have lots of money to buy big pickup trucks, which many of them drive like hot rods.  

They also like to buy quads to put in the back of their big pickup trucks. 

After 3 days of awful riding and 2 nights of sleeping in gravel lots on the side of the highway I arrived to Ft St John, BC, "The Energetic City".  I was very pleased to find the Warmshowers host in town, the only one in all of northern BC, was willing to put me up.   I was surprised to find a young active couple, Tom and Hayley living in an oil/gas boom town.  They are from Vancouver/Victoria (Tom is originally from UK) that moved to Ft. St. John for work.  Hayley is a dental hygienist and Tom is working for a surveying company that has plenty of work with oil/gas development.   Apparently he had a hard time finding work around Vancouver. They took me in despite having just run a 60km trail race and fighting off colds.   I was delighted to have some good company and a couch to sleep on.  They even had a very friendly dog, Kona.  

And then back to riding with the trucks.  Just south of Ft St John is Taylor, BC.  Above is their refinery facility and a big truck, with double load, as most are. 

After crossing the Peace River in Taylor there is a good 5KM climb.  I have never seen such detailed information about a hill.  It is not for cyclists.  There is no shoulder on this section of road. 

Here is the scene climbing up from the Peace River.  No shoulder and very high truck traffic.  At least they weren't going 80 mph.  I lost my cool several times on this climb as trucks honked at me to get out of their way.  Where the hell did they want me to go?  I waived my middle finger at them, yelled a few things,  and got right out in the middle of the lane to force them to wait until it was safe to pass.  Not pleasant.  

Fun.  

Lots of massive tanks being moved around.

Out of the forest and into the prairie.  The truck traffic didn't change but the scenery did.  The huge fields of canola reminded me of CZ. 

Rolling into Dawson Creek, BC, famous for being mile 0 of the AK Highway.  A big Halliburton truck greeted me as I arrived in town and made me think of Dick Cheney, probably sitting in a mansion far away from all the dirt, filth, noise, and pollution that surrounds the oil/gas business.   

What is the reward for riding the AK Highway?  Fresh kale.  I arrived at the visitors center 10 min before closing with 3 questions: Can I use your bathroom?  Do you have WiFi?  Can I eat that kale?  Answer to all three questions was yes.  The woman at the center had just recently learned their walkway was landscaped with an edible plant and told me to help myself.  I picked a bagful and headed to the Safeway grocery store and had a couple kale Tofurkey sandwiches. 

After my sandwiches I rode a bit further south toward a small town called Pouce Coupe.  Thunderstorms were rolling in and I found a baseball dugout to take cover in before the rain poured down.  I spent the night sleeping on the floor of  the dugout and watched the rain and lightening until I fell asleep around midnight.  In the morning I stopped at the town library/municipal building and asked if I could use the bathroom.  The library was not open, but the woman  had noticed I spent the night in the dugout and let me in.

Before leaving I asked if I could check my email. I got some very sad news that morning.   Alex, friend of Ryan and Jess in Ashland, OR had died in the mountains of Colorado.  Ryan had told me a couple days earlier he had gone missing and I had suspected (and hoped) that he had just gotten lost or hurt and would have to spend a bad night in the mountains.  The news was shocking and hard to comprehend.  Alex was an amazing guy.  He was a phenomenal athlete, very driven, a most memorable character, and very kind to me while I was visiting.  Alex was the guy that offered me a bunch of cycling clothes after our first meeting, the guy that slapped me high five as he sprinted off the summit of Mt Ashland as I made the climb up on my bike, the guy that made awesome homemade energy treats with dates and coconut, the guy that brought raw cacao beans to our picnic in the Mt A parking lot, the guy that knew every good cycling route in the Pacific NW, the guy that started following me on Strava and encouraged me to go up every bad ass climb I was in the vicinity of, the guy that commented "Such a rad route!  You are probably one of the few touring cyclists that enjoy these sort of side trips." after I rode up Hurricane Ridge Rd., the guy that Ryan and I joked with about opening a resort/spa for athletes on our ride down the Mt Ashalnd ski road, the guy that was wearing the shortest possible running shorts every time I saw him, the guy that used the word rad more than any person I have meet.  Alex will be missed. To step into the mind of Alex check out his blog: http://alexnberra.wordpress.com.  Some very good recipes there!  I am looking forward to experimenting with his nut butter recipes when I get home.    An article written about Alex: http://www.trailrunnermag.com/people/culture/1407-a-short-life-in-short-shorts.  Jess sent me the picture above of Alex with one of his poems superimposed.

From Pouce Coupe I rode to Grande Prairie into Alberta.  The ride through the prairie was uneventful, with plenty of trucks, but a much better shoulder as soon as I hit the BC Alberta border.  I spent most of the day thinking about Alex.  

Couchsurfing host, Lorre, welcomed me into his home in Grande Prairie. I got myself into a bit of a funk riding alone and thinking about Alex all day and having some company was a very welcomed distraction.  One of the benefits of CSurfing is the greater variety of people.  I was glad to get a locals' perspective on life in GP.  Lorre has an electrical contracting business doing most of their work at oil/gas camps.  Business is good.  His phone was ringing off the hook the entire time I was there.  One thing is for sure: oil/gas development provides a lot of jobs and money into the economy. 

Shortly after leaving Grande Prairie on the remote hilly stretch to Grande Cache, the sky darkened and a thunderstorm unleashed its fury.  I got soaking wet.  There was a brief break in the rain midday and even a bit of sunshine before the rain started again.  I did about 130KM and found a camping/recreation area to spend a very wet night.  The rain came down heavy all night and temps were cool as I had climbed back into the mountains.  I ate my dinner in my tent, despite a warning/reported bear sighting from a departing motorist as I set my tent up in the rain.  For the first time since Washington I decided to pull out my stove and make a hot cup of tea.  And then my lighter broke.  So no tea.  An RV pulled into the parking lot 15 min later and I thought about going to ask them for matches, but getting out of my tent in the pouring rain was not appealing.  I was warm and dry inside.  My Tarpten tent worked very well!  Late morning the next day the rain ended and I made way to Grand Cache.  Above is the bridge leading to the final climb into town.  

I loaded up on groceries in Grand Cache and met several nice people.  One guy in the supermarket thought I was in town for the Death Race, a grueling 125KM trail run that starts in town.  I explained I was just in town for the food, but he gave me some good camping advice.  Another Native American guy insisted on giving me $5 after a brief encounter outside a coffee shop.  After Grande Cache the truck traffic started to diminish, though sections of highway 40 don't have any shoulder making for some unpleasant riding.  I made it to the Berland River (pictured above) and found a nice place to camp.  

Highway 40 heading toward highway 16, which goes to Jasper National Park, got better and better.  Lower traffic, nicer scenery, and wildlife.  I saw one large brown bear running off the side of the road into the woods, which  I am pretty sure was a Grizzly based on the size, but hard to say for sure.  At this point it occurred to me that the only wildlife I saw between Buckinghorse River and Grande Prairie were dead animals on the side of the road.  Heavy truck traffic is worse for wildlife than it is for cyclists.

From highway 40 I turned right onto the Yellowhead Highway into Jasper National Park and life got much better.  

Mountain Goats along the side of the road. 

The Athabasca River

Jasper Lake

Once I got into the park I found a place to camp at Snaring River.  Just over that pile of rocks was a nice cold pool of water I took a refreshing bath in before getting a good nights sleep. This was the start of the national parks, Jasper to the Tetons, and marked a big shift in the scenery and mood, all for the better.  Much better.