Hot Dogs

I consumed more hot dogs in 24 hours than I have eaten all year.  Permit some explanation.

Prince George was a major destination, the end of Stage 3 of my transect plan.  It was a light riding day, and I used the city to re-supply and re-organize my gear.  I managed to send 2,2 kilos of stuff I hadn’t used, and am likely not to use, home in a box.  Modest progress at lightening the load.  From my quite seedy motel, I was able to get some work done in the morning before heading out on another short day of 42 roller-coaster miles to Lake Purden Campground and Resort, but the morning was dreary and wet – again.  I waited until it let up a bit and then headed out of town.  It is important to know that between Prince George and Lake Purden, there is nothing but nature.  The route was dry for about 20 miles, and then I noted a dark cloud bank ahead and prepared by donning my rain gear.  Good thing, for within minutes, it poured and did not let up.  And not just the rain, but thunder and lightning,  I rode through it – there is nothing like a hard hunker-down-and-ride rainstorm with a bit of thunderous orchestration attached that yields a shot of adrenaline. 

I passed a Provincial Park campground in favor of the Resort as they would have had showers.  As I approached the resort, I noted with disappointment a CLOSED sign for the place, likely a victim of COVID as so many venues are.  Not wanting to trespass, and very concerned about bears with wild camping, I pedaled back the 2 miles to the nearly empty Provincial Park campground (pit toilets, no showers, but I think I already had one!).  The rain had let up briefly, so I found a good site close to a bear box (a secure metal box to store your food) and quickly set up camp, all the while swarmed by voracious mosquitos (out came the head net!).

That’s when Lori walked by.  Seeing me in my wet raingear with a bicycle setting up a tent, she likely felt a bit sorry for me and graciously invited me to come over to their RV site and get warm by the fire. As I was now fairly cold and wet, I (eagerly) accepted their offer.  Her husband Hugh, a retired welder in a pulp mill and search and rescue navigator, had made his own wood-burning stove that had a nice flue and could easily radiate the necessary warmth.  Then came an offer of wine (I’d love some), then a blanket by Lori draped motherly around my shoulders (no choice but appreciated), and then an offer of grilled hot dogs with onions on the stove (ahh . . YES!), with a homemade bun to boot!

Under the awning and blanket with Lori and Hugh

Suffice it to say the evening extended to about 3 hours of conversation, a bit more wine, and dry warmth under their awning, me draped in a blanket.  And the hot dog was perhaps the best ever tasted given these circumstances.  I crawled into my tent and quickly fell asleep, waking off and on listening to the rain continuing through the night.  Nuts!

Awake early, what seemed an abatement in the rain prompted me to get up and get the soggy tent taken down, and to quickly eat breakfast while walking about, trying desperately to stay ahead of the mosquitoes.  Optimistically, the sun was trying to break through the clouds as the forest still dripped with wet freshness, and eventually, banished the clouds for solid blue skies.  I was off with the prospect of warming sun to lift my spirits.

Purden Lake

I was headed for LaSalle Lake Campground, some 66 empty miles down the road.  There were no towns.  But Hugh and Lori did tell me about the Ancient Forest (Chun T’oh Whudvjut), an area of a narrow rainforest micro-climate that supports an old-growth forest of cedars believed to be well over 1000 years old.  

The Ancient Forest - while not as big as the redwoods,
they are slow growing with tight rings. Over a thousand years old!

I try to pace myself for a lunch stop after 30 miles into the day, and just as I was contemplating where to stop, I saw the sign coming up for the Forest and decided that would be the location for my lunch, and a tour.  Unexpectedly, the parking lot was crowded even though there had not been much traffic.  There were two school buses parked, and as I approached the picnic shelter, the middle school kids enjoying a field trip on their last day of school (and perhaps not enjoying hiking up steep trails looking at old trees).  I was quickly ushered in by the Vice Principal and the parent chaperones supporting the trip to have a hot dog (and a grilled bun), chips, and water.  I managed two of them – they tasted so good.

The Hot Dog Mom's!

The field trip

I should have been worried.  Many years ago on another tour in Alberta, I stopped for a hot dog as a mid-afternoon snack, an endeavor I had vowed not to repeat as it felt like I had added many pounds to my load with my gut hanging over my top-tube for what seemed a very long time.  Yet here I was, soaking in the moment, and genuinely appreciating the parents and their hospitality.  The kids were soon gone, the shelter empty (and a place to dry the tent) while I toured this magnificent grove of trees.  I could only walk past these giants and think: “you were as tall as me in, perhaps, the year 1022 – just look at you now!”

And look at me now.  I might have to break my vow of avoidance regarding hot dogs.  I did ride off into the warm, sunny afternoon remarkably satisfied.  Four . . . and counting!