British Columbia, I salute you. 

I’ve got about twenty stories that I want to report on from the road, but unfortunately, I am a cheap skate and only have data in the United States, which in turn means I have to sponge off of the few and far between WiFi spots out here in British Columbia. 

Here’s the thing, it is hard to find a starting point and ending point at the wonder of what I’m seeing here. Crossing the border almost seemed like a fantasy, and I felt as if I was given a warm hung from an old friend when I took a look around at a rest stop. The fog hung low on weeping confirs that were heavy with snow. The mountains plunged into a pool of blue sky dappled with grey clouds which was just a panorama backdrop to the dancing waters of the river that snaked along highway 5. 

On our adventures, we’ve been pioneers. We’ve slept through snow storms, sub zero temperatures, whipping winds, and sometimes tornado warnings, all from the safety of the back seat of Morris the Truck (okay, we’ve done some adventure sleeping in a few other vehicles, like the 40′ motor coach with no heat in Wyoming at – 22 degrees). This is life on the road, this is life as an adventurer, this is life simplified. We have a plastic tote full of provisions like herring in a can, baked beans in a can, beets in a can, and enough peanut butter and jelly to provide ten elementary schools with lunch for a week. We’re living simply, no need for heated meals, no need for fancy flatware (although, I do have my favorite set of plastic eating utensils that I got at a hyvee in Minnesota that I reuse). I’ve stayed at swanky hotels around the globe, high rises, bed and breakfast, hell, even a room in some guys garage in Daytona, but none of those compares to the luxury accommodations of Morris the Truck. 

Well, that was until Valemount, British Columbia. 

Okay, maybe the excitement began before then back in Kamloops. We were all set to get in a workout at the anytime Fitness there, a healthy habit that we adhere to while living on the road (and get a shower) but there was no place for us to park our rig. This forced us to find a place of lodging elsewhere, but the problem with this stretch of Canadian road there aren’t many places to pull over and convert the truck into what we lovingly refer to as The Morris Motel. As a navigator my job, or one of them, is to find a place to bed down, and boy did I ever. Running my finger along the map, the only town that had promise and an actual hotel was Valemount, BC – pretty much the last sign of civilization before hitting Jasper National Forest.  

More diatribe later, in the meantime, enjoy the pictures I’ve been able to snag outside of my paradise of a passenger seat. Today our adventures take us to Jasper, Whitecourt, and other parts unknown. Our bones are rested, our bellies full, and adventure beckons. 

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