Meziadin Junction to Kitwanga, BC
Traditional territory of the Nisga’a, Tlingit and Gitxsan
Cold rain, not pouring down but all day long
As I was falling asleep in the tent I could hear a wolf howling in the distance. Maybe four times in the span of fifteen or twenty minutes. Then, hours later, I heard the rain start. When I emerged from the tent in the morning it had dulled to a low mist, but after an hour or so the rain was back. And it stayed all day.
I stopped in Gitanyow to talk to a couple locals and photograph the totem poles. Will be sharing more about that in a separate post. In the parking lot I chatted with a group of French travellers, then met two of them again in a wet park where they had just finished lunch, and I was just starting. Maybe it was the shelter out of the rain, or maybe the fun of speaking French, but I felt a bit of glow after they left. Plus they gave me a pancake covered in chocolate syrup. Totally French.
I made it to the junction of the Stewart-Cassiar and Highway 16, and eagerly stepped inside of the gas station to drink a hot coffee and take stock for a while…and I thought perhaps let the rain come to a stop. The coffee was hot but the rain kept going. I met a motorcyclist from England who was good for a few stories of two-wheeled travel around the globe and who was even more bundled up than I was. And I spent some time talking to the workers in the restaurant about the local communities, the rain and the Highway of Tears.
I ended up staying until closing, three coffees down. As I was leaving they gave me permission to pitch the tent behind the gas bar, but also suggested I check out a couple abandoned buildings across the highway, or the bleachers across the river, to see if I could find a dry place to roll out the sleeping bag. (I did, and it was great except for the mouse that ran across my face while I was falling asleep. Seriously.) I thanked them for their hospitality and as I was packing up, I came back to the table to find a wrapped piece of fry bread set on top of my belongings. A quiet gesture of support.
“It’s a long road, you know,” I said to Tom, the cook, “and it’s not always easy. Not when the rain is coming down like this or you’re feeling a little down like that. But it’s little things like that that make it a little easier to continue on.”
He nodded like I didn’t really have to say it. “It depends on the places you are and the people you’re with. We’re good people around here.”
“I agree,” I said, and I couldn’t remember the last time I meant something with so much of my heart. So if you find yourself on the 16 between Terrace and Prince George, look for the Petro Canada. Have a coffee and look for Rose or Tom. Don’t mention me or the rain or the mouse. Just give a warm smile and say you hope they are well and mean it.