Day 95 – July 7

Encouraged by my success of the previous night I stood stream side shortly after 6:00, taking in the views both above and under the surface of the river. By 8:00 I had raised dozens of Grayling but had only caught one and I headed back to the BRT hopeful that I would stand in the Testa River again some day.

As we had a long drive to Fort Saint John planned for the day we thought that we would save some time by sampling some of the restaurants ‘famous’ cinnamon buns. At about half the price and a quarter the size of the Braeburn Lodge buns these were still warm from the oven and far superior to the Braeburn bun which took a collected effort of three days to dispatch.

The first community of note that we came to was Fort Nelson, our ambitious target of the previous day. Our Milepost Guide told us that the Fort Nelson Heritage Museum was worth the stop and it was right. A well organized if some what jam packed main building displayed everything from a full sized stuffed albino moose to boxes of bobby pins. You know you are getting old when you recognize the labels on items on display in a museum.

Bummer of a birthmark Fred

Beyond the main building were several out buildings, one of which housed a collection of antique automobiles, all in operating condition, but most in less than showroom condition. Of note was a 1908 McLuaghlin Buick which the owner and seemingly resident mechanic and handyman for the museum had driven on its 100th birthday from Fort Nelson to Whitehorse and back again, a distance of over 600 miles each way which was done in 6 days with no mechanical problems. After relating the story the impish white bearded owner pointed with a smile to a Model T that he had owned for 62 years.

1908 MaLaughlin Buick

Mourning the loss of the hood ornament

Mr. Fix-it

Most of the road after Testa River was straight and fairly uneventful both from a scenery and wildlife perspective. We passed through several showers and downpours, at one point having to pull off the road the visibility became so poor. Again it was nice to be able to retire to the back of the BRT, make a sandwich and put on a pot of tea while we waited for the rain to pass. After our late lunch break we continued on towards Fort Saint John under continually clearing skies.

There were a couple of provincial and private campgrounds in Fort Saint John, most of the clustered on the western end of the town. After a drive by of three of them we settled on the provincial park, Charlie Lake which, despite what you might insinuate from its name has no view of the lake. As I viewed the lake from the boat launch further down the road however I was not tempted to go fishing. Being so close to civilization the lake is ringed with cottages with all description of power boats speeding across its waters.

Being a dry camping park it took little time to set up. We spent some time planning our route for the following day and were playing a card game when we got an e-mail from Graeme (not Graham, like I would misspell it) telling us that he was in town and free the next day but that Alex had to work. We sent back a breakfast invitation to Graeme but didn’t get a response by the time we went to bed.