Day 94 – July 6

The Downtown RV Park in Watson Lake, although not a scenic wonder by any means, was a restful stop. We got to indulge a guilty vice and watched some TV as well as catch up on email and post to the blog. By comparison to some places where you had to soap up first to be able to slip into the shower stall the stalls here were large enough to hold a small meeting, like the Mike Duffy Fan Club AGM for instance, whose last posted membership list consisted of Mike and the missus.

Not far down the road outside Watson Lake we came across our first Wood Bison, posed nonchalantly roadside. Now we have seen Bison in zoos and on TV but it was very cool to be alongside one in I guess what you would call the wild. This was a freaking Bison right there, seemingly posing for my photographic gratification. Further down the road was a brace of even larger bull Bison walking single file down the shoulder of the road, really why would you plough through the woods when you had this really nice gravelled road shoulder to walk on, makes sense to me.

Further on again a black blob in the grass verge of the highway turned out to be a medium sized black bear that was having a feast in the middle of a wild strawberry patch and wasn’t about to move off regardless of the several cars that pulled over behind us.

As the day wore on we were treated to a constant parade of wildlife, more Wood Bison along the road – definitely would not want to hit one of those bad boys, even with the BRT, they are built very solid. Luckily they seemed content with their turf on the road verges. At one point we rounded a corner to come face to face, literally in the middle of the road, with a flock of Stone Mountain (Gray) Sheep which included several ewes and a number of young that were busily licking the asphalt. We found out later that they lick the residual road salt off the asphalt. Non plussed by our horn or the vehicle for that matter we had to proceed slowly through them.

We made a side trip to the Liard Hot Springs which are in a much more natural setting than the the ones we had visited with Sean and Carla in Sol Duc, Washington. With newly renovated change rooms, platforms and ramps and very well kept grounds the hot springs are a great destination. The pools are actually two pools with a man made waterfall in between. The upper pool being the hottest of the two. Much hotter than one would pour a bath the upper pool reminded me of the scalding hot soaking tubs we used to look forward to every night in Japan as relaxation at the end of the day.

At the recommendation of repeat visitors we started at the lower end of the second pool and worked our way up to the upper pool just to say we did before retreating back to the lower pool. The high sulphur content of the water quickly turned my silver ring black, just as in Sol Duc. After bobbling about in the hot water like two victims in some comic strip cannibal cauldron we dried off and ran the gauntlet back across the mosquito infested boardwalk through the bog that surrounds the hot springs.

Back on the road we encountered a ram Gray Sheep also in the middle of the highway and were able to get some good shots. We stopped for lunch at Muncho Lake Provincial Park. At 12 kilometres long Muncho Lake is one of the biggest lakes in BC. Due to runoff from the nearby hills which leave suspended particles in the water the lake is a Caribbean aqua blue. There was lots of boating activity at the boat launch but judging from where they headed the fishing activity seemed to be located at the far end of the lake.

Later in the afternoon we came across three more Stone Sheep, this time a ram, ewe and one young along the guard rail, again licking the ground for salt. A photographer was busily taking photos with a lens the size of a bazooka. Although these sheep were more skittish than the flock we had encountered earlier, they were intent on getting their salt intake for the day and with some caution I could approach them and got some good shots.

Further along the road were several elk on the bank overlooking the road. Unfortunately an oncoming truck moved them off into the trees before I could get a photo. A bit later Diane saw a Cougar run along the road and stare back at her from the cover of the trees. Unlike Bison, Elk, and Stone Sheep, Cougars don’t pose for photo ops.

We were now actively searching for a place to spend the night. One likely spot was the Testa River Campground, a private campground that, according to our guide book, had water, power and wifi, as well as being on the Testa River, which I had noted earlier as the road paralleled it, was a beautiful crystal clear river, a nice bonus. As we pulled into the campground we were greeted by someone in a rocking chair on the porch of the log construction office that could best be described as a tattooed, hippie Santa Claus. An interesting mash up of styles.

He told us we were in luck and that his full house of the previous night had cleared and space was available. The services hookups were somewhat ad hoc. A water hose snaked across the grass from some octopus connection and the 15 amp power was an extension cord that ran back to the generator which we were told shut down at 9:00. Showers, laundry and washrooms were located in an Atco type trailer that had recycled freezer doors. In other places I might have found this unacceptable but at $18 a night and in this setting it strangely struck me as perfectly appropriate. Maybe it was the affable hippie Santa’s patter but I took it all as a package deal.

Roasted chicken was on the menu so after helping Diane get that prepped and into the oven I headed off to the river, my full array of rods in hand. Another fisherman who was familiar with the campsite was ahead of me and led the way to the river. What a beautiful setting awaited me. Wide, cobble rocked, tree free banks skirted a crystal clear fast flowing river, a scene to bring tears to the eye and make the heart skip a beat. The other fisherman quickly moved to what appeared to be the prime spot to fish but as there were no shortages of spaces to fish I settled in downstream of him and began using my fly rod. He was using a spinning rod and after a few casts came over to talk and soon left the river to me. I moved up to the better spot and tried a variety of dry and wet flies to no avail. I could see Grayling in the water and some were rising to take flies off the water so I was optimistic, I just need to find the right fly.

After a while of no success I picked up my spinning rod, which never gets used at home, and cast to the far side of the wide river, well beyond my fly casting range. My daredevil lure was no more in the water before my line tightened and my rod bent. As I started to reel in I thought that my reel was broken it was labouring so hard. Then I saw the flash of the fish rolling in the water and I knew the reel was fine, I was into a good sized fish. After some battling and thrashing about I brought the fish to shore and released a 22″ Dolly Varden (another first for me) with a set of teeth that would not look out of place in a Jaws movie. Further casts were unproductive so I returned to my fly rod and caught a nice Grayling on a dry fly before returning to the BRT for a delicious if late-ish meal of roast chicken.

We retired feeling that we had had a fabulous day. The stretch of road from Watson Lake that we had travelled that day provided not only surprisingly beautiful scenery but also the greatest bounty or wildlife we had seen on the entire trip to date.

What a

It amazes me that even after three months of travelling through incredible country a particular day will stand up, smack you in the face, and say I gave you my best, you will remember me for a long time. It had been a large day indeed.Thank you July 6.