Today was a flight back in time for me. Starting at Burns Lake we had great flying weather to Smithers, where I said hello to an old friend named Hudson Bay Mountain.

0256 Hudson Bay Mtn

I came of age sitting at the feet of this magnificent mountain, playing guitar, writing poetry, and contemplating life as the sun slipped behind the mountain in the early afternoon.

0280 Treehouse

Where my small cabin once stood alone in a clearing, it now serves as the heart of a sprawling home with a minivan parked about where my old VW bus once sat. My farewell poem was named Treehouse, dedicated to new dreamers, so it was a delight to see so much more story there now. Seeing it took me back many years until I could hear again the loons flying between the two small lakes on the outskirts of Smithers, intoning their magical assortment of forlorn calls. I remembered trying to imitate them when I jogged to the larger lake for a swim across, and how they watched in bemusement from halfway out in the lake. Until the day I sang one of my own songs, composed on the porch in the early sunset, and then they swam right up to listen. Such times those were!

0411 Edge Of Wild

Next we flew along the river toward Hazelton, searching for another place I lived briefly, out at the edge of the wilderness North along the Suskwa River. At last we found it, still there but surrounded by many more buildings than the lone farmhouse that was there in my time. Looks like several more families are there now, but the little cluster is still ten miles on a small track from the nearest neighbors. I remember walking to the logging road several times in winter, once sleeping in a disabled pickup and waking to discover a bobcat had slept beneath the cab. This was where I once contemplated “going into the wild,” to live as a hermit away from all contact. Luckily for me, and with considerable influence from a caring soul, I returned to Smithers and eventually to California. Seemed like a close call at the time, but now it’s so far from the warm circle of friends and family that so enrich my life.

All during today’s flight I was watching fuel even more closely than usual, because I’d kept Tripp light for climbing more easily up to Hudson Bay and over all the other mountains along our path. Seven Sisters greeted us after passing Hazelton, and even in the dense smoke from all the fires in the region they still form a beautiful family.

0439 Seven Sisters

As we passed Terrace I snapped a photo in case we didn’t pass so close to town on our way back from Ketchikan. The river there is so red, yet just a couple of miles upstream it’s bright turquoise until it mixes with one coming down from a different valley. Though it has a big airport I decided not to stop for fuel, since we’d be on the ground in Prince Rupert jumping customs hoops before the hop to Alaska anyway.

0449 Terrace in Passing

After a few more minutes that Anne may share (photos came out much better on her side of the plane facing away from the afternoon sun), we arrived in Prince Rupert. Flying over the town we made the short hop to the little island nearby (across the top of this photo) where the airport is.

0457 Prince Rupert

It was quite a surprise as we were pushing Tripp toward a parking space, when a pilot preparing to depart in a similar Cessna complained about no fuel at Prince Rupert. (!!!) Turns out, they didn’t sell enough gasoline to make it viable so they simply stopped selling it. Though they had lots of Jet A for the airlines, helicopters and small turboprop charter planes, Tripp politely but firmly refuses it. Well, since I’ve been monitoring fuel so closely we have enough to fill up elsewhere. When I “dipped” the tanks, try to imagine my amazement at discovering only forty minutes’ fuel! Yikes! Now we’re not going anywhere until we get Tripp some gas. Sure we could make it back to Terrace, but not with the required half hour of reserve much less my one hour personal minimum. Luckily for us, there are a great number of very helpful people in Prince Rupert. We were able to figure out a way for Tripp to get her dinner after all.

0470 Bruce the Gallant

Especially helpful was Bruce, who gave us several ideas and great conversation as we waited for the ferry into town for fuel. Waiting for the ferry back to Tripp we found a great little nature walk. Have I mentioned that Anne absolutely loves nature walks? 🙂

0491 Nature Walk

It was another stroll down memory lane for both of us, from our years in the northwest before we met. We even found a berry patch with some late fruit still ready for the picking.

So trusty Tripp flew us back to Terrace, this time higher and faster in case we could buy fuel to reach Smithers. This gave us an even better view of the disappearing glaciers, like this one I recall from those bygone days when I lived nearby. All that remains now is this peaceful blue lake.

0503 Peaceful Blue Lake

I can hardly wait for the renewable aviation fuel now in trials to replace the petroleum fuel that so transformed this wild place. I’m glad Tripp gets about the same mileage as our Camry in the meantime.

Upon arrival we found that self-serve aviation fuel is not available in Terrace (or perhaps anywhere in Canada), that it would be an extra $75 for the very helpful fuel guy to leave his family to come and feed Tripp more reserve for the short hop to Smithers, and with sunset approaching it became clear that we’d be spending the night here. The same helpful fuel guy told us where we could find hotels, and where we could camp next to Tripp if we prefer.

So we’re sitting in the empty terminal building using the wireless internet before going to set up camp for the night in the place we glanced at in passing toward Prince Rupert a few hours before. Yesterday we were in Jasper, and tonight rather than Ketchikan or Smithers we’re in Terrace. Such is our second Big Adventure unfolding as did the last: the trip we dream, the trip we plan, the trip we take, and increasingly as the miles pass beneath our wings – the trip we remember.