Up on time, greeting a beautiful blue sky day. At some point I had mentioned to Bill that I like to put on 100 kms or so before breakfast. Not to belabor the point, but it is usually lunch for me! Bill reminds me of this so we skip the A&W at the end of town and hit the highway. Sadly I interpret this statement as 'let's hit the road', and as I don't need to gas up, I presume neither does he.

Stopping at the side of the road for a nav check just outside of town Bill mentions to me that he is near the end of his range, but on the map there is a smattering of towns all along our route, we'll just hit the next gas station. Soda Creek, McLeese Lake, McAlister, Marguerite and Alexandria all come and go with no gas stations. Sometimes those 'towns' are little more than a camp site or a boat launch.

I know things are getting desperate for him as my odo approaches 300 kms for this tank of gas. At 300 kms I still have at least 100+ kms more, but that is it for him. I was watching him intently in my mirrors, or at least the best I can do in my fancy after market Arlen Ness mirrors. When he is down to his last litre of fuel his system switches from odometer count up, to remaining fuel range countdown. So he can see when the 'end is nigh' and I guess he was flashing his high beams, and (futilely) beeping his horn during his last minutes of powered motion.

Eventually the inevitable happened, he ran out of gas and I, blissfully oblivious to his breakdown, carried on, sallied forth, kept going, abandoned him at the side of the road. I took a look in the mirrors at some point, and upon not seeing him slowed down and turned around. I found him about 1000 yards back. I passed him, turned around again and came up behind him.

I took my Pelican case off of my Bat'Leth, the grated rack on the back of my bike in place of the pillion seat (it resembles the Klingon combat weapon, the Bat'leth) so I would have space for a jerry can. Bill insisted I start off my rescue mission with a $50 bill in my pocket.




OK, OK, maybe the resemblance isn't that close, but if I hit you over the head with either of them I think the results would be the same!

I knew there was a gas station at Kersley, but I did not know how far away it was. As it turned out, it was 4.9 km away. It was a restaurant/gas station called 'The Alamo'! 3 nice ladies were running the operation, and while I had to pay for my gas in advance, they also lent me a small gas can and didn't charge me a deposit on it.

When I went to fill it up however, I found there had been a housefly gas huffing party in the bottom of the can and there were about 20 fatalities. I wasn't able to shake them all out. I briefly toyed with the idea of putting some gas in it swirling it and pouring on the ground, but honestly, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead I went back to the store where I had remembered seeing some coffee filters and asked if I could take a couple, and they agreed.

I shot a great helmet mounted GoPro video of my return to Bill and the whole refueling process, but there is no way I can upload it here in Dease Lake! Here are a couple of screen shots.







Here is the video I promised you.



We drove back the to The Alamo together and Bill filled his tank, I had done so when I was there earlier and then we had a killer breakfast. The whole adventure took about an hour and we left Kersley about 1045, headed northbound on hwy 97.

That is the beauty of starting your day at The CoB, you can have a big adventure, a leisurely breakfast and it is still earlier than when I would even be leaving!

We had about 150 kms to Prince George and after one wrong turn, a stop for a pee in an empty lot and a nav check, we were westbound on hwy 16. After being on 97 for about 700 clicks we really missed the built in passing lanes, but traffic was light and we formation passed when required.

About 100kms west of PG the skies ahead started to turn black and there was a pretty good chance we were gonna get wet, We stopped for gas at Vanderhoof and Bill put on his rain suit, I did not. That is my strategy, I think if I don't put my rain suit on the Rain Gods will take pity on me and take their clouds elsewhere. Sort of Mind over Nature. It is successful about 0.000001% of the time, but I keep trying!

We kept driving and the sky kept getting darker and darker, eventually we passed under a very black cloudline, but had only got a few spits. The horizon in the distance was blue and we were almost to the sunshine. I was congratulating myself for not putting on the suit and single handedly averting the storm when we crested a ridge and you could see the rain wall ahead.

I have written about rain many times, you might say I am an expert! Over my 30 year riding career I have experienced rain in all its forms! On the Ping, Doink, Twack scale these were Man Drops, Twacking hard into my helmet's shell. You could see the big splashes they made on the road. My jacket gets wet very quickly, especially the shoulders and upper body and once wet, the heavy leather transmits the force of the raindrop impacts to my skin. It stings like hell but no matter how you twist or turn you can't escape it.

The pain intensity goes from a 7 to a 10 and I realize the rain is now mixed with hail, the water on the road pools in the wheel ruts, we slow down a bit to prevent hydroplaning. One bright spot is my new running boards shield my feet from the pooled water on the road which my front wheel splits and shoots the water where my foot pegs used to be. My gloves, jacket and schaps are quite wet, and I am shivering. I engage the handlebar heated grips, like I said..........game changer. Maybe next year a seat warmer.........can a scooter be far behind?

The heavy rain is over in the time it took you to read this, but it takes another 30 minutes to completely drive out of it and get to dry road. About 150 kms from Smithers, our goal for the day, we stop at Burns Lake as I would like to dry my jacket some on the hot pavement and warm up. You can see my shirt is still quite wet. Bill is quite entertained by my shivering.



The road ahead is sunny so Bill takes off his rain suit as well and we continue on towards Smithers. Sadly as we approach the town the mountains surrounding it are shrouded in black clouds. The rain starts lightly and never reaches the intensity of the first storm. It only starts getting real right upon our entry to town. Luckily the mo'tels are flanking the road we are on, I see one next to an Indian restaurant which I know is a favorite of Bill's.

We stop for gas so we'll be fueled up for the morning (don't want a repeat of this morning's debacle!) and go and check in. Normally we'd have a few dust busters first, but ironically after spending all day in the wet, all I want is a long hot shower. I stop shivering after about 30 minutes under the tap. A little while later we are in the restaurant, have a great curry lamb, and numerous tasty adult beverages. Then off to my room for drying my riding tack on the register, and blogging.

Williams Lake to Smithers
605 km
8 hours in the saddle