Days 9-14: 1, 42, 50, and Awe
(If you want to skip to the Trail Mix and latest recorded meditation, scroll to the bottom).
It’s been a little over a week since my last post, and it seems like eons ago.
When you’re traveling on a long road trip, time is a weird, bendy thing. On one hand, some of the drives seem to take for-freaking-ever. Other drives blow by like a breeze. During the evenings, time stands still as the sun sets and a kazillion stars pop out. And then the mornings fly by as you’re busy packing up camp to hit the road and do it all over again. Then, before you know it, more than a week has gone by and what happened a week ago seems like a month ago.
In my last post, I was in Vancouver, British Columbia Canada writing about Port Angeles, Washington.
Now, I’m in Whitehorse, Yukon Canada and am going to update you on traveling into the wilds of Canada . . .
Since I last left you, Winnie and I have entered our first foreign country together, and our 42nd and 50th state (respectively) - Alaska. (Yes, Winnie has been to 42 states . . . I plan to get her to 7 more states next year - Oklahoma, Texas, Arkansas, Louisiana, Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina. Then she’ll have been to 48 states. And unless and until Oprah decides to fly us on her personal jet to interview me on Super Soul Sunday, Winnie won’t get to Hawaii).
One foreign country, Winnie’s 42nd state, and my 50th state. Not too shabby for two girls from rural, redneck areas.
So much has happened over the last week . . . indeed, I’ve had such a flood of thoughts and stories sloshing around in my brain that I’ve been pondering whether to some day write a book about the lessons and connections I’ve made in all of my travels . . . some day . . . maybe . . . .
But, for now, let me try to distill the key highlights, lessons, and stories from the last 2,597 miles since we left Port Angeles and crossed the Canadian border.
(Quick side note: Thanks to my amazing HipCamp connection from Idaho (see this previous post), I was able to get my solar panel fixed in Port Angeles. The HipCamp owner ordered a solar panel to be delivered to his cousin in Port Angeles, who installed it for me. Man I love how the universe is always conspiring to root for you!).
Now, back to Canada . . .
Canada Border Crossing: It amazes me that regardless of how awesome I am at planning a trip down to the last detail, I can still miss some pretty key details. For example, not realizing that I had to take a damn ferry from Port Townsend, Washington to get up to Bellingham and then cross into Canada. I just blissfully plugged directions into Google maps for Port Angeles to Vancouver, and started driving. When signs started appearing about two hours later for “ferries ahead,” I panicked a little bit. I had no idea if I could get on the ferry with the trailer; you apparently needed a reservation, which I didn’t have; and oh, Winnie hates ferries. Long story short, we were able to get on the 12:00 ferry, which gave us time to wander around Port Townsend for a bit - long enough to make me want to vacation there someday . . . freaking adorable! And Winnie actually fared pretty well on the 30-minute ferry ride. After getting off the ferry, it was a fairly quick drive up through Bellingham, Washington and on to the border crossing.
Winnie and me on the Port Townsend ferry
I fretted about this border crossing. I had so much paperwork, in addition to my passport: Winnie’s rabies vaccination and health certification; my Covid vaccine info; and, oh, criminal background checks from Nebraska, Virginia, Colorado, and the FBI all showing that a DUI (Driving Under the Influence of alcohol) and MIP (Minor in Possession of alcohol) arrests that I had 32 freaking years ago, aren’t even on my record any longer. Why did I need that? Because Canada is a stickler about DUI’s and any arrests. And Americans are often denied entry into Canada because they don’t have the proper paperwork to show they’ve been “rehabilitated” (Canada’s term) from a DUI. This is apparently such a big issue that there are entire law firms devoted to helping Americans figure out the paperwork.
But I was a lawyer. I figured out all that paperwork myself from the Canada Border Patrol regulations. And I had all the paperwork ready to go.
I had my ArriveCan app all filled out and ready to go with my vaccine information.
I had all the paperwork for Winnie ready to go.
And then we roll up to the border after sitting in line for only 20 minutes . . .
and they didn’t ask for any of it!
The Canada border patrol agent looked at my passport, asked where I was going, if I had any weapons or alcohol, commented on my cute travel trailer, and wished me a nice day.
Totally anti-climactic.
Exploring Canada: As the national anthem goes, “Oh, Canada”!
I don’t think that my mouth has fully closed since I crossed the border and got my first glimpse of Vancouver, British Columbia. Since then, I’ve been in a perpetual state of mouth wide open, often at a loss for words.
Maybe more eloquent, loquacious people could better describe the experience of driving through Canada. For me, words fall entirely short. There isn’t adequate language to capture it.
So, lacking adequate language, my go-to’s usually are “fuuuuck me” and “holy fucking shit” and “are you fucking kidding me?” and “Winnie, are you seeing this shit?”
(Maybe I should have called this post “A Redneck in Canada”).
For me, those free-flowing swear words represents a state of complete and utter awe.
“Awe” according to Google is “a feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder.”
Yep, that’s all synonymous with “fuuuuck me.”
Sure, there have been some relatively boring parts of Canada . . . they’ve given me a chance to wipe the drool from my mouth.
But so far, Canada - and particularly British Columbia - has filled me with awe.
From Vancouver (a sparkling city buttressed by mountains and water); to glass-like lakes; to mountains so large that they simultaneously strike fear and wonder within me (maybe “wonderfear”?); to mighty ice blue rushing rivers . . . British Columbia could make all the words fall out of even Shakespeare’s head.
In Vancouver, I rented a bike and rode around Stanley Park, taking in gorgeous views of the water, city skyline with mountain backdrops, float planes taking off, and beautiful totem poles.
I climbed the Grouse Grind - a 2.5 km (1.5 mile) 800 meter (2,624 feet) heart-pumping, leg-burning climb up to an epic view from Grouse Mountain of the city, water, and surrounding mountains.
The fanfare after you finish the Grouse Grind.
I took Winnie to coffee at a place called . . .
wait for it . . .
Yes, Pittie Coffee! I mean, come on! That gets all the heart emojis!
I fell in love with Vancouver’s architecture, vibe, cute neighborhoods, and water taxi’s. Vancouver - I’ll be back.
But it wasn’t until I left Vancouver and traveled up the aptly-named Sea to Sky Highway that I entered my nearly constant state of awe-filled wonderfear.
I’d love to share some photos with you of the Sea to Sky Highway, but I can’t because there weren’t really any opportunities to pull over and take photos. And I don’t even know how to put into words other than . . . you guessed it . . . “fuuuuck me.”
Jagged, towering mountains that pierce the edges of the Squamish River and sometimes rise up out of the middle of the river like stone-aged monsters frozen in time, left me feeling like I turned back the clock about a hundred centuries.
I wound my way up through Whistler and Prince George before heading west on the Yellowhead Highway, which gave me a break from being so awestruck . . . and from dropping so many f’bombs. The Yellowhead was rather “meh.”
My awe gradually subsided as I got closer to heading into the wilds of Canada with no cell service on a northbound, fear-inducing, notorious road known as the Stewart-Cassiar Highway.
At the unincorporated town of Kitwanga, I turned off the Yellowhead Highway north onto Highway 37, better known as the Stewart-Cassiar Highway - a 724 km/450 mile road connecting the Yellowhead Highway to the Alaska-Canada Highway (the more traditional route through Canada into Alaska).
The Milepost (the quintessential guide for anyone traveling through Canada and Alaska), says this about the Stewart-Cassiar Highway:
The Cassiar Highway was completed in 1972, and is asphalt-surfaced with the exception of a few short gravel breaks. The highway is generally narrower than most 2-lane highways, with little or no shoulder. It has easy curves and some long straight stretches.
That sounds totally doable, albeit a little nerve-racking.
But, if you join a Facebook group called Alaska Highway/TheAlcan/CassiarHiway, you’ll see posts about people running out of gas on the Cassiar because the gas stations are few and far between; almost hitting or actually hitting wildlife; and having car trouble and unable to call for help . . .
Basically, you’ll get the shit scared out of you about traveling on this 50-year-old road that is still a work-in progress through a rather undeveloped part of Canada.
So yeah . . . my awe was replaced with fear and abject terror. The only wonder I had left in me as “I wonder if I’ll survive this stretch of road?”
After 4 nights of camping at British Columbia Provincial parks along the Stewart-Cassiar Highway, I can honestly say that my fear was misplaced.
There were long stretches of fantastic road with relatively little traffic. Yes, there are very few gas stations, but this is easily handled by topping off at every single gas station you come across. I never got below half a tank and was totally fine. So to run out of gas requires that you have a gas tank the size of a pea, are getting crap gas mileage (which means you shouldn’t be traveling that road in the first place), or you got cocky and thought you’d blow past a gas station and try to make it to the next one.
There was one sketchy section for maybe 200 km that was gravelly, which I didn’t particularly like.
But other than that, I can proudly proclaim that I survived the Cassiar Highway! (I want to open a souvenir shop at both ends of the Cassiar that sells t-shirts and stickers that say “I survived the Cassiar Highway!”)
And my reward for braving the Cassiar Highway:
4 of the most stunning lake campgrounds that I’ve ever seen . . .
massive, crystal clear lakes . . .
Green Lake Provincial Park
fabulous and fiery sunsets reflecting in glassy waters . . .
Kayaker on Beaumont Lake at sunset which, this far north, is around 9:30 p.m.
taking a dip in the crystal clear water of Green Lake Provincial Park and sitting in the water up to my neck, meditating as a I stared eye-level at the water against the horizon . . .
watching the full moon rise over Meziadin Lake as the mountains reflected in the moonlit waters . . .
seeing Winnie bask in the sunset glow along the lakeshores . . .
finding my 11th 4-leaf clover at Green Lake . . .
taking a short side trip to Hyder, Alaska, and being blown away by the majestically terrifying mountain, river, and glacial views on my way to officially entering my 50th state on August 11, 2022 . . .
Hyder, Alaska
and paddle boarding with Winnie on the green-blue vibrant waters of Ta Ch’ ila Lake (formerly Boya Lake), which someone said is the Bora-Bora of the North . . .
which is where I’ll pick up next time.
In the meantime, here’s your Trail Mix from this latest part of the 50 in 50 for 50 journey:
Lessons learned: Fear is a ruthless, needy bitch that wants to deny you experiences that challenge you to grow. Fear likes you to stay stuck because every time you go beyond your fear, your fear just has to work harder next time to try to get your attention next time. Fear doesn’t want to work harder. Fear wants you to become weak in your knees in her presence and collapse into her darkness - where you can stay safe and small.
But . . . fear just wants you to know that you’re not trying to get rid of her. That she has a place at the table. That there will be times when you will listen to her because there is a real danger - not some hypothetical danger that likely will never happen.
Fear wants to come along for the ride, which is fine. She just has to be in the backseat. Fear needs to be told that she can’t be in the driver’s seat for every little freaking thing in life.
Fear is needy and ruthless because she actually is your greatest teacher. She wants to invite you into discernment between what is a real fear and what is a fictional or hypothetical fear. She wants you to cultivate a deeper relationship with her so that she isn’t hijacking your life. So that instead, you can call on her mobilizing, protective powers only when it is absolutely necessary.
Feel the fear. Acknowledge the fear. Then go do the thing that fear doesn’t want you to do, as you tell your fear “I see you and hear you. And I thank you for trying to protect me . . . but I got this. So take a backseat and come along for the ride. But you don’t need to be in the drivers seat all the time.”
What am I listening to? So much! Here are some highlights:
The Legacy of Speed with Malcolm Gladwell. This 5-part podcast series is captivating! From the episode page: “When two Black sprinters raised their fists in protest at the 1968 Olympic Games, it shook the world. More than 50 years later, the ripple effects of their activism are still felt. In this new series from Pushkin Industries, get to know the runners who took a stand, and the coaches and mentors who helped make them fast enough — and brave enough — to change the world.” Trust me, you’ll love the depth and richness of this story!
NPR’s Fresh Air podcast episode, The Sensory World of Animals, with host Terry Gross interviewing Pulitzer Prize-winning science author, Ed Yong, about his new book, An Immense World. (I’ve now downloaded Yong’s book on Audible, and will report back).
Songs: I went totally old-school on some of these drives along the Cassiar. You can find my playlists on Spotify by following me at “mwally17”. Some of the old school playlists I was listening to were:
Other Spotify playlists I recommend (from others as well as myself):
Guided Meditation: I recorded a quick introduction to a guided walking meditation from a park in Vancouver. Walking meditation is a fabulous way to incorporate mindfulness into simple daily activities, like walking. Hope you enjoy!