Victoria, BC

Our flight from Anchorage to Vancouver was uneventful, just long.  This four plus hour flight was another reminder of how far away Alaska is from the continental USA.  I've gotta think the Russian's are kicking themselves all the time for selling this huge natural resource to us, and knowing how close we are to them.  Our purchase of Alaska from Russia in 1867, for $7mm or about 4 cents per acre was criticized by some in the US and was called Seward's folly, after Secretary of State, William Seward, who pushed the deal through.  Hindsight is always 20-20, but this has turned out to be pure genius on his part.

Arriving late back in Vancouver, we scored a night at the Rosewood Hotel, with a big discount thanks to an old friend.  

The next morning our itinerary started with a trip to Victoria.  The provincial capital of British Columbia, Victoria is a beautiful small city on Vancouver Island.  Getting from Vancouver to Victoria is no small task, requiring either a bus (or car) ride to a ferry, and a four hour ferry trip.  Or, a 30 minute sea plane hop.  Vickie, not being a fan of small planes, took a little convincing.  But, all in all she agreed it was an enjoyable way to travel.  Commuter sea planes were buzzing around all over the place, and I quickly learned this was a common yer fairly expensive method of travel in this area.

Based on several recommendations, we had reservations at the Fairmont Empress Hotel.  An historic hotel on the Inner Harbor, across from the Capitol building, it was the best place to stay for exploring this small historic city.  Of course, the big attraction at this quintessential British accommodation is High Tea, in the afternoon.  Being more of a cigar and bourbon fan, rather than cucumber sandwiches and tea, none the less, I experienced an afternoon of culture and raised pinkie holding my tea cup.

Not to be outdone, I adjourned to the iconic bar at the Empress, and found fast friends; a couple from Denison, TX, who were vacationing post cruise, like us, and Toby Gabriel, a fellow GS rider who was a long term Fairmont associate.  Toby and I exchanged many ride stories and have kept in touch via FB, although I missed him when he was in Dallas a few months ago.  

A must see attraction near Victoria is Butchart Gardens.  A former limestone quarry used for the production of Portland cement, the business owned by the Butchart family, has become one of the most beautiful locations of unique gardens in the world.  Mrs Butchart, wanting to make use of the abandoned and ugly quarry site commissioned several garden artists to build these gardens; including Japanese, Italian, and British style gardens.  This is a wonderful example of re-purposing an industrial wasteland that could be done more today if people would take the opportunity.  Still owned by the Butchart family, it is a major tourist attraction.

With this portion of our vacation coming to an end, we take a sea plane back to the Vancouver airport, Vickie boards her place back to DFW, and I take a cab back to the BMW shop to pick up my 1200 GS and begin the southeastern journey back to Texas.................stay tuned.

A forced smile, but things get better.

Almost there.

We made it

Inner Harbor of Victoria

High Tea at the Fairmont Empress

A rainy day, but still amazing

Alaska bound

I suppose an Alaska cruise starts appealing to someone once they reach the time in their life when they realize cruises are more than tropical climes, sunburns, and Jimmy Buffett music.  I remember when I was younger, thinking that a cruise in cold weather didn't make sense.  How wrong I was.  Sort of like the time we decided to take a Carnival cruise during spring break with a ship full of college students.  BIG MISTAKE.

Having taken a couple of cruises on large ships, we opted for a small ship, the Pacific Princess.  With only 600 passengers, it was just what we wanted.  With the help of our travel agent, Margo Kyger, at http://gullivers.com/ we scored a suite that so nice we spent most of our time on our own private balcony observing the beauty of the the Pacific Northwest as we cruised toward the inside passage of Alaska.

Being the adventurous types that we are, we rarely opt for planned excursions or tours when we travel.  Being on a cruise ship is the closest we come to a planned itinerary, and true to form, we didn't pick any of the ship planned excursions, but did some research beforehand and chose our own outings.  

After asking many of our friends about their experiences, I wanted to either take a plane or helicopter to visit a glacier or fly over the remote areas.  However, a couple of weeks before our cruise, a plane had crashed on such an excursion, killing all aboard, so Vickie decreed that was out of the question.  So plan B was developed and at our first port of call, Ketchikan, we tried something new for both of us, sea kayaking.

Ketchikan receives over 200 days of rain per year, but our day there was sunny and 72 degrees, perfect for our outing. http://www.kayakketchikan.com/ was our chosen expedition.  We took a small boat to a beautiful remote area, Orcas Cove, where the kayaks were waiting, and for several hours we witnessed eagles, dolphins, and other wildlife up close and personal, without getting wet.  No Orcas however.

Cruising the inside passage is a scenic treat in and of itself.  With snow capped mountains as far as you can see of the eastern side, and beautiful forests on the western side, we were traveling thorough the Tongass National Forest.  At 17 million acres, it is the largest national forest in the USA.  One night at dinner, sharing a table with our French speaking table companions, we saw a large pod of Orcas swimming alongside our ship, an amazing site.

Our second stop was in Juneau, the capital of Alaska.  It is the only state capital with no roads or highways connecting it to the rest of North America.  As one of the locals said, there are only three ways into Juneau; plane, boat, or birth canal.

The excursion chosen here was a boat ride into the Tracy Arm fjord, and a visit to the massive Sawyer glacier.  While a long ride, the icebergs, whales, and calving of the glacier were rewards that made the long day quite enjoyable.

Our third excursion was in Skagway.  We took the White Pass and Yukon Route Railway for about an hours ride to the trail-head for the Laughton Glacier.  With almost all of the passengers remaining on the train for the several hours round-trip, our small group of hikers departed with our gear and excitement for the hike ahead of us.  The trail began in old growth rain forest, and as we climbed higher, the trail became more rocky.  After a couple of hours, we reached a lookout area, with a 360 view of mountain and the massive Laughton Glacier.  As we reached the glacier, we attached crampons to our hiking shoes to continue onto the ever changing frozen glacier.  As we were there in August, there was glacier melt and we were constantly having to avoid the crevasses and other dangerous features of the frozen landscape.  After sandwiches and hot drinks, we departed the glacier, hiked back down the trail, and met the returning train for the scenic ride back to Skagway.

We saw many of our fellow passengers in Skagway, browsing the cheesy souvenir shops and the dozens of jewelry stores.  We commented to each other that it seemed such a waste to travel to Alaska, and spend your time shopping for stuff you could buy in the mall at home.

The remainder of the cruise was spent enjoying the passing scenery, listening to the nature guides tell of all we were seeing, and viewing the magnificent glaciers and mountains that seemed to be never-ending.  Realizing that this cruise did not even allow us to see the main largest part of this massive state, I quickly realized that another trip to Alaska should definitely be on our agenda.

Arriving at our last stop, Whittier, the wind was so strong that the ship's captain had to try three times to dock before being successful.  Whittier is the port closest to Anchorage, a former military base built in WWII, and consists of a population of about 200 persons.  All of these people live in one high rise apartment building built in the '50's.  Next to this building is another smaller building attached by a tunnel, which houses all of the other shops, services, and school.  Whittier is the port for the Alaska Marine Highway, consisting of boats, ferries, and ships that service all of southern Alaska, and the towns and cities which have no land access.  Whittier is also the terminus for the railroad, which carries many passengers to Anchorage and points beyond in mainland Alaska.  A one lane tunnel is used by both the railroad and cars and buses. 

Taking the bus to Anchorage, we arrived the same day President Obama was making a visit to Anchorage, commemorating the name change of the tallest mountain in Alaska from Mt. McKinley to Mt. Denali.  Knowing that another visit to Alaska should be in our plans, we boarded our Air Canada flight back to Vancouver, and the final portions of our Alaska Adventure.

A little hard to see, but the rain gauge in Ketchikan, where rain falls most days of the year

A Ketchikan cutie

Rookie kayakers

This eagle was keeping watch over our ship

Lot's of icebergs in the Tracy Arm fjord

These glaciers are constantly growing and shrinking.  Today, in August, it was shrinking.

Our little group, ready for a hike to the Laughton glacier

Treacherous hiking on ice and snow.

Quick scenery change, coming down from the glacier into the rain forest.

Back to Skagway, with this little guy following our train.

Vancouver

Arriving in Vancouver on a Saturday morning, I made my way to the local BMW dealership.  Having called ahead, they were expecting me and my bike.  New tires had been ordered, and the dealership generously allowed me to store all my riding gear while the bike was being serviced.

Leaving the dealership with a small drybag (Vickie had all my cruise wear in another suitcase she was bringing), I pulled up Uber on my phone, only to learn neither Uber or Lyft are allowed in Vancouver.  So, after waiting almost an hour for a cab, I arrived at the Rosewood Hotel in downtown Vancouver.

Vickie's flight was not due until the evening, so I explored the city a bit, eventually taking the train to the airport and meeting Vickie with all our luggage for the cruise and after cruise travel.

We decided the best way to see the city was by a guide led bicycle tour.  Vancouver is intentionally very bike and pedestrian friendly, having been voted one of the top five most livable cities in the world.  With a population of just over 600,000; most people live in glass high rise apartments so that they can enjoy amazing 360 views of the ocean and the mountains.  The downside is that Vancouver is also one of the most expensive cities to live in, with many people pushed out to the surrounding areas, with a metro population of almost 3 million.  Vancouver is one of the warmest cities in Canada, due to its' proximity to the Pacific, and also the wettest, although while we were there, they were experiencing a drought.

Vancouver is very diverse, with over 50% of the residents having English as their second language.  Persons of Chinese heritage are the largest population group, followed by other Asian ethnic groups, such as Punjabi, Indo-Canadian, Japanese, and Korean.

Our cycle group was led by a local Vancouverite, who was understandably proud of his city, and gave us an insider's view (and opinion) of everything from local politics to the long and storied history of the city.  In keeping with the diversity theme our group included a family from Merida, Mexico, whose daughter was about to attend college in Canada.

Highlights of the tour included the massive Stanley Park, the third largest park in North America.  The totems were a highlight as was the seawall and magnificent views.  Granville Island was amazing, with many restaurants, brewpubs, and shopping.  Most interesting were the mini ferry boats taking everyone back and forth from the island to the city.  Vancouver is a city of neighborhoods, each with its' own ethnic and cultural mix.

Our day ended with a walk around the cruise terminal, Canada Place, where millions of tourists depart for Alaska annually, us included.

Great customer service.  Not only did they store my gear and bike for 10 days, after the service; I also saved $$ due to the exchange rate.

The best way to experience Vancouver. 

A remembrance of the indigenous peoples of Vancouver in Stanley Park.

Where all the broom props for the Harry Potter movies are made.

My beauty observing the beauty of Vancouver.  And worried about that seaplane in the background. More about that in the next post........

Canada, Eh?

The Canadian border crossing on WA Hwy 31 is definitely in the "boonies".  Twenty miles from a town either on the US side or the Canadian side, business was slow the morning I crossed.  The agent hadn't seen anyone from Texas on a motorcycle before, and her main question she wanted answered was whether or not I was carrying a firearm.  Assuring her I wasn't, after showing my passport and the recording of my license plate, I was on my way to explore the southern mountains of Canada.

Canada Highway 3, also called Crowsnest Highway, http://www.crowsnest-highway.ca/, is a historic route across BC.  This portion from Salmo to Vancouver was as varied a terrain as I could imagine.  From soaring snow covered peaks to huge fruit orchards and vineyards at Osoyoos, this portion of the ride was both surprising and challenging.

Midway into the morning, the rain and sleet started to fall, so I found a roadside camping area and geared up with wet weather gear.  I added my heated vest as the temperature was dropping, and continued on, at a much slower pace as the road was both twisty and wet.

After a couple of hours, the skies cleared, I topped a mountain pass, and the road began a sharp descent.  Lake Osoyoos and the town of Osoyoos came into view.  I learned that Lake Osoyoos is the warmest lake in BC, and this is a popular tourist and retirement destination for those Canadians wanting to escape the cold, but unable to afford the Southern US.  Many of the buildings were built in the '60's to resemble the southwest US, with adobe structure and red tile roofs.  With the many orchards, it felt as if I had stumbled into Southern California.

I stopped for lunch, a glass of wine, and unusual for me, a haircut.  With what little hair I have, I had neglected to bring my clippers, so I was getting a little shaggy.

Wanting to get a few more miles in, I continued east towards Vancouver, and ended the day in a small town called Princeton, about 200 miles east of Vancouver, my destination for the next day.

Canada, like the US, is a land of immigrants.  Canadians, wherever they are from originally, are some of the friendliest people on the planet.  And, many of them love the US.  I spoke to several Canadians who spend the winter months in the US, and would stay longer, and spend more of their money here, if our government would let them.  There are some crazy immigration rules, however, for Canadians, allowing them only limited time here in the US to enjoy their vacation homes, and our warmer climate.

Next stop is Vancouver, where I will drop off the bike at Vancouver BMW for new tires and a 10k service.  Then, pick up Vickie at the airport and get ready for our cruise departure to Alaska.  More to come........

Lake Osoyoos, feels more like Southern California than British Columbia

Mike had a story to tell.  His story took longer than my haircut:)

This little motel, pretty much unchanged since the owners, from Russia, bought it in the '50's.  One of my road rules; no chain motels.

Main Street, Princeton, BC. Pretty quiet on a Friday night.

Metaline Falls

Riding north on WA Hwy 31, the recommendation I received from the nice lady at the tourist information stop was to spend the night in Metaline Falls, WA, about 20 miles from the Canadian border crossing.  A highway sign warned that the border crossing was only open during daylight hours, and this little town was the last stop before the border.

  Borders are an odd thing to me, in many places unmarked, just a line on a map.  Our southern border is much more apparent and the differences are vast.  Up here, culture is similar and the most noticeable differences are the phone service, money, and the metric system.

Metaline Falls is a quirky little town of about 200 people.  Once a large mining and cement manufacturing hub, today it's a beautiful, quiet hideaway. Its' claim to fame is the Kevin Costner flop of a movie, The Postman. The movie was filmed here, and there is a nice tribute in the sometimes used train station.  On weekends, in the summer, a vintage steam train takes tourists into the mountains.

The most unusual thing to me was that there were a significant number of displaced indigent people living here.  I was told that the state of Washington offers free or reduced rent housing in an old but well kept apartment building left over from the days when a large factory was still in operation.  There were dozens of people living in the building; unemployed, without transportation, but seemingly content to draw their unemployment, medicaid, or disability and live a simple life.  I met one resident, oddly enough born in Garland, TX.  She had re-located from a life in Alaska to this quiet little town.  Her story was an epic tale, and her weathered appearance bore the signs of a life lived hard.  She was reluctant to have her photo taken, however I snapped one when she wasn't looking.

Needless to say, lodging was minimal.  The one motel outside of town, near a state park, had the "NO VACANCY" sign lit, so I tried the only other place, The Washington Hotel.  The sign on the unlocked door directed me across the street to the local bar for info.  Inquiring, the bartender said there were plenty of rooms available, in fact I was the only guest, and it was $40 cash for the night.  "Pick any clean room", she said.  "Bathroom is down the hall; the owner will be back tomorrow."

Following the signs pointing upstairs, I found a place straight out of the "40's, in my mind.  About 12 rooms along a long hallway, a communal bathroom and showers, and a feeling that it had been a while since any other guests had been brave enough to spend the night.  My chosen room was clean with fresh sheets and towels, and a fan in the open window.  No lock on the door, no lock on the entrance downstairs, and a distinct feeling I had wandered not into the Hotel Washington, but Hotel California.

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)
Bring your alibis

 Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"Relax, " said the night man,
"We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave! "

As you can see I was able to leave, after a fitful night's sleep, and plenty of memories to share.

Cindy's Cafe next door served a wonderful breakfast, with several trucks full of fire fighters converging on the place as soon as the doors opened at 7am.  Three firefighters had died a few miles away the day before having been caught behind a fire line, and these brave men and women were gearing up for another day of danger and duty.  God bless them and all the others that were risking their lives.

With the bike loaded, and a full stomach, I set out for Canada and an exciting ride through the Canadian mountains.  To be continued....................

Metaline Falls claim to fame

A fellow Texan, by way of Alaska.  Now a resident of Metaline Falls.  She was not willing to pose for a photo, so I sneaked this one.

I might have been the first guest since 1906.

Being the only guest in an old hotel with no locks on any doors was a little creepy.

This place was a time capsule.

Vancouver bound August 2015

After five days and four nights of enjoying Yellowstone's back country, a hot shower and a real bed was a welcome relief.

Waking up after that rest, there was frost on the bike and the thermometer outside my room registered 30 degrees.  I decided to have a leisurely breakfast and spent some time re-packing everything for the ride toward Vancouver.

A  mid-morning departure was in order and my route took me Northwest on US 287 across the lower part of Montana.  Stopping at the Big Hole National Battlefield, I learned about the demise of the Nez Perce Indians.  A nomadic tribe from Oregon, these people had been ordered by the US military to settle on a reservation in Idaho, (b/c gold had been discovered on their reservation and the settlers wanted the gold).  

Running from the soldiers, the tribe had hoped to escape to Canada.  They were surprised at dawn by the 7th Infantry and many were killed, including the women and children.  Many soldiers were also killed in a counter-attack, but as usual the military prevailed and the Nez Perce tribe was put out of existance.

Crossing the Bitterroot mountain range that separates Idaho and Montana, I turned west on the Lolo highway, a scenic highway that many motorcyclists enjoy each summer.  Testing my patience, I had to turn around, however, due to the many forest fires in the area.  I back-tracked to Missoula, MT where I spent the night.  The sky was gray and everything smelled like smoke.

The bike packed and ready to leave for Vancouver after a restful night in West Yellowstone, MT

The day started early as I had a 6am conference call.  With today's technology, business can be transacted on the road almost as easily as at home.  After taking care of business, and knowing that the fires were worsening, I decided to go north and try to ride around the problem.  Riding up I-90 toward Spokane, I took a break and stopped at a small town, Mullen, MT.  A coffee shop had advertised on the interstate their specialty of Huckleberry milkshakes.  Having had one before years earlier when in Montana, I decided to try it again.  While waiting, a man in the shop asked where i was from, and having said Arlington, TX, he surprisingly noted that he lived in Dallas.  He introduced himself, and Patrick and I had a great time talking.  He had been born in Mullen, and had decided to come back for the summer to take care of family property.  He is a massage therapist, and splits his time between Montana and Texas, enjoying the best seasons of both.

Learning more about the fires, I exited the interstate at Couer d'Alene, Idaho and continued north toward the Canadian border.  Just before  crossing into Washington, I stopped for lunch in Spirit Lake, Idaho.  A small lake town with four bars on the one block main street, a local suggested the the "Linger Longer Lounge" had the best food.  He was not wrong, the sandwich and tater tots, washed down with a local beer hit the spot.  Two locals, having whiskey for lunch, gave me all the local weather and hunting news, largely complaining about the drought and heat, and the fact that the elk population had been decimated by wolves.  According to them, the re-introduction of the wolf to Yellowstone several years ago had gone wrong, with the wolves migrating north and multiplying much as the wild hogs have done in Texas.  In Idaho, it is now open season for wolves 9 months of the year, only requiring a $11 wolf tag to hunt them.  They gave me more local fire info, and I again re-routed my trip further north, deciding to bypass my western route across Washington state.

As I got closer to the Canadian border, I stopped at the information general store in Ione Washington, 20 miles from the border.  The nice lady there (who winters in San Antonio) suggested that I stop for the night in Metaline Falls, a small former mining and cement town 12 miles from the border.  This little town deserves a post all its' own, so stay tuned.

Apparently, a favorite locals hangout.  One of four bars on the block.

Time to catch up from Summer 2015

Having good intentions of blogging about my 2015 Summer adventures, I only was able to complete the pre-adventure preamble in August 2015, before departure.

Now, almost a year later, and planning another bike trip (again to the West), my lingering self imposed disappointment of not blogging about the trip has set in, and I have decided to recap the memories of the trip.

Primarily, the reason for doing so is a request (perhaps stated before) that my children made of me a few years ago.  They wanted Vickie and me to start writing about our lives and memories.  I've recently realized how important this can be to future generations.

Last year (2015) I decided to finish a genealogy project my dad had started decades ago.  With help from a friend, and the genius of www.ancestry.com I was able to trace the ancestry of Vickie and me back to when our people first landed in the USA.  Along with DNA tests for the two of us, we discovered our lineage was different than we had been told through the years.  Otts being a German name, I was always told we came from Germany.  Nope, my first people in the USA were from Northern Ireland, named Oates, and the DNA test proved the same.  With other ancestors from Britian, and Vickie's ancestors both British and French, we were able to fill in the gaps and provide a family tree that is both interesting and surprising.  But, I digress.  Writing this will allow the future generations of our family to have a bit of insight into our lives, just as my ancestor tracking discovered a relative who was one of the few female spies for the Confederacy.  Her life did not end well!!

OK, back to more recent times.  A summary and some pictures of my Summer Adventure of 2015.

Arriving in Denver, I Uber'ed to the place I had stored my BMW, packed and adjusted my gear and started north on I25 towards Wyoming.  Several hours later, I met my hiking buddies, Dan and Sam in West Yellowstone.  After a good night's rest, re-configuring my gear, and loading up my pack, we departed the next morning for the back country permit office in Yellowstone. 

Hiking in Yellowstone back country requires a permit, and a 45 minute video tutorial of the dangers of the park; particularly the Grizzlies. Also required is a LARGE canister of bear spray (which you can rent), lots of warnings from the park rangers, good maps and a sense of adventure.  As the week before, a hiker had been killed by a grizzly, we were on high alert for the possible encounter.  The Rangers assured us that hiker had broken all the rules; off the trail, listening to music with earbuds, hiking alone, no bear spray, etc.  None the less, we blew our whistles, attached bells on our packs, and generally felt like idiots as we walked through blind areas singing and talking loud to "scare" the Grizzlies away.

Yellowstone is over 2 million acres and has over 1000 miles of trails, yet most of the millions of visitors each year don't leave the pavement.  Just a little advice, if you go, leave your car and see the beauty that our Creator has made.

We spent five days and four nights hiking and camping in the wilderness. We saw no Grizzlies, only a few other people, and many incredible sights, sounds, and stars.

 As has been said, a picture is worth a thousand words, so see a few thousand words in these images.





The obligatory beginning picture

Beware of narrow shoulders and wildlife. 

I used a Dixon rollerpack instead of the traditional back pack.  Great for us older folks.

Making sure the Grizzlies didn't get our food. 

All the comforts of home.

I prefer hammock camping instead of a tent, much more comfortable and light weight.  The rain fly worked well the one time we had rain.

We had several water crossings.  August is the best time to go; earlier in the summer and the water crossings are much deeper and harder.

This water crossing required a little more effort; it was about thigh deep.  Had to convert the roller pack to a back pack. That's me on the far side working up my courage to get across.  

Purifying our water along the way

A cold beer was a welcome treat at the finish line.