Looking west from the top of Heckman Pass

Prelude

I'm a map junkie. About two years ago while gathering information about northwest roads, I bought a 'Northwest Milepost' and discovered the Chilcotin Highway (BC 20) and Bella Coola. This paragraph hooked me for good:

'There is still "The Hill," a nerve-wracking switchback descent from the top of Heckman Pass (elev. 5000 feet/1,524m) down to the forests of the Bella Coola Valley at just above sea level. This enormous drop is engineered in just 12 miles/19km of narrow, mostly 1-way track, much of it at 18 percent grade. This section of the route is not for timid drivers and autos should be in good repair, particularly brakes. Trailers and large RV's will have difficulty negotiating some of the hairpin bends.'

At that time I owned an FXLR, a GL1500 and a ZX-11. Not exactly 'adventure touring' material, but last fall Terry Powell offered his KLR for sale and I knew it would be perfect.

All I needed was a kindred spirit to join me. When I mentioned Bella Coola to Marc, his eyes sparkled like mine did and I knew all that was left was the scheduling. We agreed that the first week in August should be good weather and so our plans were set.

The Trip

Marc set out from Spokane Saturday morning. He waved at BlackBear on the way out of town and got here about 4PM by way of Stevens Pass. "How about dinner and a movie," he said. Very excellent salmon at Krazy Bird on Northgate Way and 'Grosse Point Blank' at the Crest filled our evening.

Sunday morning found us heading up Highway 9 from Arlington. We crossed the border at Sumas and took Canada 1 through Vancouver and past Howe Sound to Whistler. The traffic was bumper-to-bumper and slow. We figured Whistler would have a cigar store and we found it. After picking out some Cuban cigars, we spent a few minutes watching the tourists in the square. Past Whistler, traffic thinned out very nicely and we made excellent time over the mountains to Lillooet (it's all paved now) and through Marble Canyon to Highway 97. Marble Canyon is a delight, a good road and very scenic. We finished the day at 100 Mile House. Marc had a surprisingly good chicken-and-pasta at Smitty's and we smoked our first of many evening cigars.

Since the weather was so good and we both wanted to get to Bella Coola, we decided to head there directly and then work our way back as the weather and opportunity allowed. We grabbed a quick breakfast at McDonald's in Williams Lake, spent a few minutes looking for chain oil (I'd forgotten mine), and then headed west. The road is paved to Tatla Lake. We stopped there and had lunch at Mr. Grumpy's house ("Don't touch the bread!") and then continued on.

Except for "The Hill," most of the unpaved sections between Williams Lake and Bella Coola are very good. They are hard packed dirt and gravel that has been well oiled. We hardly slowed, but eventually the scenery won us over and we began stopping fairly often for pictures.

The only way to do "The Hill" is on a dual-purpose bike. Great fun! The scenery at the top is spectacular and the road is hard packed gravel and dirt. It isn't oiled so it's dusty, but otherwise it's in good shape. That's at the top. Nearer the bottom is where it gets interesting. It soon becomes one lane and begins a set of big switchbacks down the side of this wall. Neither Marc nor I are big fans of heights so we kept away from the edges. No guard rails of course, so if you lose it, you _really_ lose it. You probably won't even be able to see it. Some sections of that switchback were easily 500 feet above anything that would stop your fall.

Our reward for surviving the switchbacks was the best section of paved road on the whole trip. The road down the valley is smooth sweeping sweetness. It follows the river out of the park and past one farm after another that all look like they were specially built for a movie set. Neatly trimmed lawns and hedges, beautiful flower gardens, barns all freshly painted. And, of course, satellite dishes.

Bella Coola itself is not so fabulous. Very small, and not a lot of amenities. We asked about a good motel and restaurant and were directed back out of town to Hagensborg, where we stayed. After a cold beer and a nice dinner, we sat on top of the stacked and chained plastic chairs on the patio like big kids in high-chairs and smoked our cigars and drank our Port. Nobody yelled at us for putting our feet on the tables. Sleep came easy.

We had a leisurely breakfast and packed the bikes waiting for the only decent store in Bella Coola to open at 9. Nice morning sun with a few low clouds in the valley meant another good weather day. We bought shiny bits for Debb and Wanda and headed for "The Hill." We decided to get some pictures of the switchback sections with each of us on it, so we hung our cameras around our necks and tucked them in our jackets to keep them (sorta) clean and from bouncing all over. We would find a scenic section, put the bike in first, turn the key off, put the kickstand down, take the picture, start the bike, kickstand up, and head uphill. (Remember, 18 percent grade means over a foot rise in less than the wheelbase of the bike. And no guard rails.)

Once we were over the top we decided to start scouting resorts and maybe camping spots. Our first stop was Anahim Lake and after checking out a few places, the Anahim Lake Resort was our choice. A cabin on the lake, showers, a licensed bar, picnic tables, lawn chairs and a great westerly view of the coastal range was all included in the exorbitant price of CDN$65. That's about US$20 each!

This place is right out of Nature on PBS. We watched the trout jump, the ducks and loons and pelicans float by, and all kinds of other birds Marc knew about. Later that evening we saw an eagle swoop down and snag a fish for dinner. People were cruising by in their little fishing boats and a float plane dropped in with a surveyor. We read, walked around the lake, smoked a cigar, rode into 'town' for dinner, rode back, then watched the sun drop over the mountains with another cigar. Perfect.

The next day we wanted to explore around Nimpo Lake. We had scouted a few resort places on the way west, but none of them had really caught our fancy. During breakfast we were entertained by Vicki, the proprietor of The Dutchman cafe. Her food was good and here stories were great. She told us tales of keeping a silver fox as a pet. Amazing!

Even more amazing was our luck in finding a place to stay. We were asking around about places and Marc asked the guy who ran the general store in Nimpo Lake. He told us of a place that was 'a secret' since hardly any locals knew about it. Pine Point Resort on the far side of Nimpo Lake. "They have a chef there," he confided. He said he and his wife had reservations for that evening they couldn't keep, so he told us to go there and see if we could take their place. He said the food was really good, and he would certainly have a place for us to stay. What the hell, one overpriced dinner wouldn't kill us. We headed out.

Rod was expecting us. No cabins were available, but he had a nice spot on the lake for tents, so we camped. He gave us directions to a lookout nearby and we headed out for our first day of 'off road' adventure. "Hors d'oeuvres at six-thirty, dinner at seven. Just come around to the sliding patio door," he said, as he headed back to his lawnmower.

Once we got off the logging roads, it got fairly rough. My KLR was best in the rough, but I'm a rookie in this stuff. Marc is the expert, but the R1100GS is pretty heavy and very expensive. The last quarter mile to the lookout was just too steep, so Marc took the KLR the last bit to see if it was worth the hike up. Was it ever. What a view! A lady named Barbara was manning the lookout that day, and she graciously gave us the tour. I think we could see at least a hundred miles in all directions. Forest, meadows, lakes, trails, beautiful. No camera I'll ever own would do it justice.

I think the local use of language is so entertaining. Just next to the lookout was a collection of large antennas on small buildings, so I asked Barbara what they were for. She explained they were for the local radio station. "A guy comes up and tampers with it every so often," she quipped. I love that.

We avoided all the mud holes we hadn't on the way out and just barely outraced a fast moving logging truck to our turnoff on the way back. My dirt skills picked up noticably with the proper motivation.

Back at camp, we showered and dug out clothes that were decent. All spiffed up, we headed for the sliding patio door. Rod greeted us and introduced us to his other dinner guests, a man and his son from San Jose. They were here for the fishing which they were enjoying. Rod mixed us a drink and we nibbled over small talk. Hmmm, this might be okay.

A young lady announced that the salad was served so we headed for the dining table. Just six of us at a table that would hold ten. Ooooh, really nice flatware, lots of forks, a collection of glasses at each setting, this could be good. Here's the menu:

Appetizer: Artichoke Puffs
Salad: Curry Mango Chicken Salad
Main Course: Szechwan Moose Stir-Fry
Dessert: Chocolate Rum Mousse with Whip Cream and/or Pumpkin Cheesecake

I went with 'and'.

(I note in passing here that several of these dishes would qualify for this year's cookoff. Is it a sign?)

Marc and I agreed the chicken salad was world class. It was _really_ good. The other dishes were first rate also, but this one stood apart. Did I mention our bill for this meal? CDN$40 for both of us!

The setting for this delight was a large open dining room with large picture windows overlooking Nimpo Lake. The water, the birds, the trees and the sun on the hillsides made this a dinner to remember. We reserved for breakfast.

Cigars and Port that evening (notice a theme here?) were enjoyed in a quiet cove watching the wildlife and the fading sunlight painting peach colors on the clouds. Just another day in Paradise.

My tent was aligned perfectly with the sunrise. I unzipped the flap and just raised my head a bit to watch the sun rise over the hills. There was not a cloud in the sky.

While we waited for breakfast a fellow camper wandered over to chat. I was wearing my Tacoma BMW t-shirt so he assumed Marc's bike was mine. He was a German living in Vancouver with an encyclopedic knowledge of Formula 1. Grew up near Assen I think he said. His pronunciation of most of the drivers and track names was completely different than we hear on American TV. He was surprised to learn that the GS horsepower rating was higher than his VW camper bus!

Breakfast was fruit, a fluffy omelette, juice and coffee. My jeans were starting to shrink again. On our way out of Nimpo Lake we stopped at the general store and gave our heartfelt thanks to the owners for their wonderful recommendation.

Our plan was to go east to Hanceville, then turn south on the gravel roads and stay in the backcountry all the way back to Clinton, but unfortunately we didn't have enough time. Instead we took a loop from Hanceville south to Big Creek and then east through Farwell Canyon to Riske Creek. We flew along the highway to Tatla Lake and took a break there. Marc was getting all kinds of travel ideas from the owner of the store, but we decided his suggestions would take way longer than we had daylight left. Everyone up there went out of their way to be helpful. These folks are proud of their country and wanted us to see as much as possible.

The country around Hanceville is more farming rural. A pleasant mix of pastures, fields, meadows and woods. And there was more traffic. We stopped on the road above a small lake and shared a dried trout for lunch. Very tasty.

The locals know these logging and farm roads well, so their directions assume a lot more knowledge than we actually had. We made one or two wrong turns but finally got on the road we wanted and zipped along pretty well. I mentioned earlier that I'm pretty new to off-roading and I was amazed how much more comfortable I felt after a week. Enough so that when the rear end would step out a bit I would gas it and make it hang out even farther. Great fun!

Heading east from Big Creek the road is fairly straight and very dusty. We travelled side-by-side to keep from eating each other's dust all day. We would race ahead of the speeding logging trucks as long as we could then pull over and take a 10 minute break as they roared by. At the end of the day we were filthy!

Farwell Canyon is beautiful. The road winds steeply down and then back up and the scenery is reminiscent of the Yakima Canyon but a lot larger and more dramatic. There were several places we stopped to take pictures and admire the view. Being on a dual purpose bike means you can zip off on just any little track that presents itself and see what lies over the ridge.

On our way up out of the canyon we stopped as a herd of California Bighorn sheep crossed the road ahead of us. About 30 or so of a herd of about 100. Very pretty.

Once back at Riske Creek and pavement, we took a break for a cool drink at the local store and then headed east toward Williams Lake and then south to 100 Mile House again. Our buns were burning when we finally stopped for the night.

Our last night on the road. We finished our Cuban cigars and decided the ones we had bought were not all that special. Marc even dissected them and we checked out their innards. We finished off a six-pack of Okanogan cider and slept like logs.

It rained overnight and was cool and overcast the next morning. Definately a change in weather. We got an early start and headed south to Clinton for breakfast. Avoid at all costs the nice looking lodge/restaurant on the west side of the main street. Took forever to get any food.

We zig-zagged south through Cache Creek, Spences Bridges, Meritt, Aspen Grove, Princeton, Keremeos and Osoyoos. Getting gas in Princeton were two Aston Martins, one a '39 and the other much newer. The '39 was long and flowing and beautiful. Two guys in leather helmets touring the countryside.

We grabbed a quick burger in Osoyoos and then crossed the border uneventfully. After questioning Marc at some length, he practically waved me through with "Have a safe trip." If I'd had two boxes of Cohibas in my bags they would have strip searched me. My luck.

Marc and I parted at Tonasket, he heading east on 20, me south. I got almost all the tires scrubbed in going over Loup Loup Pass and didn't speed in Twisp. I took a break in Winthrop and made reservations at The Farmhouse for an upcoming VME ride I lead in October. The Farmhouse is under new ownership and they are fixing up the place quite nicely.

I love the North Cascades Highway, especially coming west. Almost the entire road has been resurfaced in the last two years and it is smooth and fast. I was 'in the zone' from Rainy Pass down the canyon to Ross Lake. I think I only dropped below 75 once. That stretch is just about the perfect road in my book. There is an amazing amount of clearance on a KLR650!

Epilogue

The KLR650 performed flawlessly. At gravel road speeds it would go 220 miles before hitting reserve. At 70+mph it would hit reserve at 185. We did a couple of 400+ mile days and that's about my limit on that seat. I borrowed a set of soft bags for luggage and I missed not having a tank bag or a place for incidentals. Givi USA is expecting KLR mounts any day now so I'll probably check those out since I already have some bags. The new Gripster on the back seemed just fine on the street and the bike behaved quite well on the rough. Marc noted that for really rough riding, it needed a knobby and lower (higher?) gearing.

The GS is a bit heavy for the really rough going, but otherwise it is superb. Tons of power, great suspension and all the usual BMW amenities. You can ride this bike to Bella Coola or Miami equally well.

Can you tell we had a good time? Both of us kept walking around saying, "This is great!" I think we'll probably leave the camping gear at home next time. Prices are quite reasonable and the exchange rate makes it even more so.

Think I'll have a cigar and remember "The Hill".