Seattle, Vancouver and Beyond…
After a pair of cloudy days in Portland, we continued up the coast to Seattle, where we checked into the eclectic Green Tortoise hostel and walked around the corner to a sold-out Buke & Gass and tUnE-yArDs concert at The Crocodile.
The next morning we arose to cook-your-own pancakes, then after a brief, coffee-fueled stroll around emerald city, we were back in the Subie headed for Vancouver. At the border we were greeted by a friendly waterboarding from customs regarding my shotgun. No, I have never been arrested. No, I have never changed my name. As a matter of fact, yes I knew Kate Middleton’s grandfather had ties to Calgary. After nearly an hour of interrogation, we were permitted to enter the country.
Vancouver is a dreamy outdoor metropolis, a cultural kaleidoscope bursting with groomed bike paths, finely landscaped streets and striking views of the mountainous coast. As she is wont to do from time to time, Jess splurged and treated us to a nice hotel near 1000-acre Stanley Park, where we spent a cool Saturday evening ambling aimlessly about.
Sunday we began the remote stretch of our journey through Canada. I’m writing this post from a ratty motel in Prince George, British Columbia, 500 miles north of the U.S. border and a mere five-hour drive to Dawson Creek, where tomorrow we’ll pick up the 1,500 mile Alaska Highway to Girdwood. I anticipate the next five days to be phoneless and mostly internetless as we make our way through some of the most isolated parts of the continent. We’ve traveled 5,000 miles thus far with another 1,700 to go. That’s a long way in a car, but aside from a little gut rot from Tim Hortons chili, I’d say we’re feeling pretty damn good.