Reminiscing Alaska: Day Seven. Men Seeking Hot Spring.

In June of 2017, four of us headed out to ride our motorcycles to Alaska. These memories are from that trip.  Enjoy!

Grand Cache to Liard Hot Springs

The morning started cool and dry as we left Grand Cache.  There were no signs of road kill or roads covered in knee deep mud.  Thankfully.  We did come across odd patches of fog that made travel difficult in certain areas.    The fog and the horrific rotting egg sulfur smell accompanying the fog was a result of the oil work that was being done in the valley as we drove along highway 40.

Our lunch time destination was the beginning of the Alaska Canadian (ALCAN) Highway, in the town of Dawson Creek.  After a photo shoot to commemorate the start of the journey at mile post zero we hit the road for Liard Hot Springs. It was 758 KM away.  The day was shaping up to be a 1000km day.

Although we were having another fantastic day riding motorcycles, the scenery of day didn’t become very interesting until we left Fort St John, BC.   We passed by the Tetsa River where we tried to dodge a downpour. At McDonald Creek, I saw my first moose standing majestically in a pond by the side of the road. And we had a wonderful homemade dinner at Toad River Lodge, and started to see sheep and buffalo around beautiful Muncho Lake.

Speaking of Fort St John, we had pulled into town in the late afternoon and spotted the first gas station to fill up.  We were all running a bit low on fuel and we needed to get off the bikes to stretch our legs after a particularly long and grueling stretch of riding.  Pulling off the highway, target fixation sets in (I need to get off this damn motorcycle, now!), Allen blows a stop sign directly in front of a Canadian Mountie.  After a couple of double takes and a few “o-shits” in my helmet, I expected the lights to come on, and the officer to follow us to the gas station.  Thankfully however, Mr. Officer decides we are not worthy of his time and moves on.   (maybe he was threatened by the shear presence of the Handsome Chaps) Thank goodness either way.

Who’s Been Sleeping in My Bed.

After a late dinner and a cool beverage at Toad River Lodge, we still have 120 km to Liard River.  It’s going to be a late night before we set camp.

We arrive at Liard River Provincial Park, before midnight.  We were tired and crabby, and there wasn’t a lot of light left.   We were all looking forward to a soak and a bourbon to ease our exhausted bodies into a quiet slumber on a somewhat comfortable sleeping pad.

As we pull up to our reserved campsites, one was open, one was not.   Ughh.  A young couple was poaching our campsite.  Now to be fair, we didn’t arrive at the park until after 11pm, so I probably would have taken the site as well if I were in their shoes.   After some discussions about sending the couple on the run and them offering to pack up and leave, we ultimately decided they could stay.  They moved their tent, and we set up ours.  There was only one caveat placed on them. They needed to share their moonshine with us.

After sorting out the camping arrangements with our new site mates and sipping some moonshine, the Chaps headed to the hot springs for a well-deserved soak. It was pure heaven for our tired bones and muscles.

Good night British Columbia.

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