Morning looks like this out the window of my room at the Inn, British Columbia's oldest hotel. The fishing for steelhead is legendary here, so rich and famous come from around the world and hide out in this funky hotel. But today we own the place, so it's downstairs for coffee. I can hear Dave telling jokes in the distance, so I just follow the sound.
We drink coffee on the porch and look at the eagles hunting the river below. On one side of the river Canadian Pacific runs its trains, on the opposite side, Canadian National. At night they come screaming through this tight little valley, wheels gnashing, horns blaring. You can see them coming for some distance- huge golden eyes glimmering in the blackness. And then the town seems to shake while they pass by, moaning and bashing until they fade into the distance.
Breakfast companion. The guard dog of the Inn.
Good morning, Dave!
Looking out across the valley; high dessert hills.
First we stop at the old, cowboy cemetery on the edge of town.
Wifi is on, so it's another working breakfast! Emails, press releases, and the Blog. This stuff never goes away.
Soon enough we're on the 97 Highway, headed north. We give Ramblin' Dan a spin. Dylan. JB Lenoir, John Lee Hooker, Stormriders, James McMurtry, Memphis Jug Band...
In just a few hours the landscape changes considerably. It is a little colder, fall in the air, flashes of colour in the trees.
As we drive the shadow of the mighty speaker horn keeps pace with us, pointing the way of adventures to come.
Dovey snapped this picture of us upon our arrival to Prince George, British Columbia. I hope this town is ready! Hey! The Blues is Back in Town!
Morning looks like this out the window of my room at the Inn, British Columbia's oldest hotel. The fishing for steelhead is legendary here, so rich and famous come from around the world and hide out in this funky hotel. But today we own the place, so it's downstairs for coffee. I can hear Dave telling jokes in the distance, so I just follow the sound.
We drink coffee on the porch and look at the eagles hunting the river below. On one side of the river Canadian Pacific runs its trains, on the opposite side, Canadian National. At night they come screaming through this tight little valley, wheels gnashing, horns blaring. You can see them coming for some distance- huge golden eyes glimmering in the blackness. And then the town seems to shake while they pass by, moaning and bashing until they fade into the distance.
Breakfast companion. The guard dog of the Inn.
Good morning, Dave!
Looking out across the valley; high dessert hills. 
The Inn was fun, but breakfast at the Packinghouse is on our minds. Time to load the Lincoln.
First we stop at the old, cowboy cemetery on the edge of town.
Outside the Cafe we notice this modified bike. It carries a large axe rather nicely. Inside we meet the owner, who tells us the axe is to protect himself from bears on his long rides into town. I tell him I'd probably just pedal fast in the other direction!
Wifi is on, so it's another working breakfast! Emails, press releases, and the Blog. This stuff never goes away.
Soon enough we're on the 97 Highway, headed north. We give Ramblin' Dan a spin. Dylan. JB Lenoir, John Lee Hooker, Stormriders, James McMurtry, Memphis Jug Band...
In just a few hours the landscape changes considerably. It is a little colder, fall in the air, flashes of colour in the trees.
As we drive the shadow of the mighty speaker horn keeps pace with us, pointing the way of adventures to come.
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