Free Camping with a Difference

South Beach to Lake Quinault Resort (28.4 miles)

Total Miles: 2,646.6

A day that started with porridge on a wet and windy beach and ended with being taken out to dinner at a posh restaurant. The variety of situations I find myself in continues to amaze me. The morning dew from the ocean had soaked the tent and as I packed it away, trying to keep the inner dry, I was approached on three occasions by gentleman interested in my journey. Once informed I was heading south, each of them provided different advice on the best route to take; none of them in common with my existing plan, nor with the actual course of events. Still, thanks for trying.

Most of the day's riding was flat and the morning was warming up nicely. After ten miles of nothing much, I was overtaken by another bike, travelling light and heading nowhere in particular. We chatted for a bit, before he got bored of my slower pace and sped off into the distance. I, meanwhile, put on lesson 2 of my Spanish course. A few more miles down the road was the start of roadworks that would continue for 44 miles, all the way to Aberdeen. They were chip sealing the road, which left a lot of gravel and other debris in the shoulder and with the huge logging lorries flying past, it was a tough road to cycle. A worker signalled for me to come off the road at one point to let traffic pass and as I did, the cyclist from before appeared again. I couldn't quite work out how I'd overtaken him until he explained that a rear spoke had snapped and he had stopped to try and sort it out. Unfortunately neither of us were carrying spares which meant he had to continue on to the next bike shop hoping the wheel doesn't buckle. We stopped at a small grocery store just before Lake Quinault and after checking my maps I decided to head onto Amanda Park, just a mile up the road with the possibility of there being a cafe.

This is when things started to get surreal. I left the broken spoke guy in the shop and found the internet cafe in Amanda Park; it looked a decent enough place for lunch. While parking the bike up I got chatting to three bikers who had heard from a friend who knew someone etc etc, that there was a guy in Mexico that got involved in a road traffic accident and the police just put him in prison rather than taking him to hospital. The story continued that it turned out he had a broken neck and died. The moral? Go to Mexico and you'll die! Some people really shouldn't be allowed to socialise unsupervised. Leaving them as quickly as I could, I went into the cafe and noticed Christian, one of the cyclists who had been on the ferry from Victoria with me. We chatted for some time before agreeing to meet at the same campground later in the day. Once lunch was ordered I started to plug in my laptop and this caught the attention of another diner, sitting behind me with a couple of friends. He asked what I was up to, where I was going and offered to let me stay at his resort if I mowed his lawn, allowing me to get more blog writing done. I wasn't totally convinced he was serious, either that he had a resort, or if he did that I would get a room there just for mowing the lawns. So I thought about it and decided I'd better just push on with the riding and turn him down. That was until he asked me again as we were both leaving and I immediately changed my mind and said yes. Well, it would be worth a look at least. There then followed the following conversation:

JH : OK, So I'm Jon, what's your name?

PC : Paul

JH : Poll?

PC : No, Paul

JH : Pole?

PC : No, Paul

JH : Pol? Ok, is that a common name in England?

PC : No, it's Paul - as in Paul McCartney.

JH : Oh, Pahhhl.

PC : <shrugs>

I've since started to pronounce my name differently as it seems that after all these years my way, the English way, is wrong. Who knew?

Jon gave me a lift to the beautiful resort, hidden away deep in the rainforest on the north shore of the lake. There wasn't too much grass to be cut and after putting my gear into one of the luxurious rooms I got to work. Not having any experience in professional lawn mowing, I sought inspiration from the finely manicured pitches viewed weekly at football grounds all over the UK. I finally decided to go with a straightforward diagonal pattern; simple, yet effective. After I'd finished two of the three lawns, Jon said I could stop for the day and join him and other guests on a tour of the lake. Once finished, after seeing numerous eagles, ospreys and other birds I wouldn't recognise in a neatly labelled birdspotting book, we set up a fire on the beach for one of the families to enjoy for the evening, complete with s'mores making kit, while we headed over to the Salmon House restaurant on the south shore of the lake. During dinner, which was kindly paid for by a friend of Jon's, he repeatedly mentioned how great it would be if I could stay for a few days to help out around the resort. It just goes to show that the movie I watched on the way to Alaska was right - good things do happen when you say "yes".

The Trouble with Free Camping

Elwha Dam to Bear Creek (39.3 miles)

Total Miles: 2,564.7

The only thing better than bacon sandwiches for breakfast are bacon sandwiches that you haven't had to cook, so a huge thank you to Chris who was frying up some of the best bacon I'd experienced in North America (surprisingly hard to come by). Was a sunny and warm morning so the huge hill on the way out of the campsite was not too well appreciated. The road followed round the outskirts of the Olympic National Park with stunning mountains on one side and huge lakes on the other. There wasn't a great deal of shoulder on the road though, so it was a bit scary in places.

The huge Lake Crescent lasted for over ten miles and had plenty of rest areas for taking photos and stopping for lunch. In the forest was a picnic area where I made up noodles and remained totally uninterrupted for the hour I was there - a rare treat. After this I made it to a small store and met Steve and Barb, a couple from Minnesota riding around on his Harley.  Leaving the store was a huge two mile steep climb but after this it was flat again until I got to Bear Creek, a small community with a restaurant and a free campground. The restaurant offered Twilight themed drinks, such as Bella Berry, and Twilight Tea. Forks, the setting for the series of books about a high school girl caught in a love triangle with a vampire and a werewolf (yep, really) was just down the road and bringing in thousands of tourists. And everyone was trying to squeeze every last cent out of it while it lasted.

The campsite looked great and I was impressed that it was free to stay there. That was until the party started at about 9pm. Several of the campers had been drinking and barbecuing all evening and now decided to start a karaoke competition. Thankfully it didn't last too long as some of the elder campers, of which I seem to have become, threatened to call the sheriff if they didn't pipe down. Was still plenty of noise though which kept me awake and I was just starting to think about packing up and moving on when tiredness took over and I fell sound asleep.

British Columbia, Canada (PHOTOS)

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Tales of Back Home

Victoria to Elwha Dam (12.6 miles)

Total Miles: 2,525.4

Woke up excited to realise it was the first day of the deciding Test match between England and Australia in the battle for The Ashes - cricket's oldest and most famous duel. Homesick manifests itself in different ways and this had been the first Ashes series in my lifetime where I had missed every single ball. Still, the wonders of the internet and BBC Sport allowed me to follow what happened over the next five days (no skipping ahead to see who won, non cricket fans - I know you want to). Still, I couldn't hang around all day pressing F5, so I went off to explore Victoria before my ferry was due in the afternoon. As I cycled around the Galloping Goose, a trail built specifically for skaters and cyclists, I was sure I saw the bright orange panniers of Nils and Caro, the two German cyclists I'd met 1,300 miles earlier in northern Yukon Territory. Was good to see them again and a reminder of just how small the population of western Canada is - I've spent  years in London never seeing the same people twice, even when looking for them. Victoria is a very British city, with red double deckers and lots of classic architecture. The huge Empress Hotel overlooking the harbour and a statue of Queen Victoria keeping guard of the governmental building were two of the highlights. After a lunch of spicy peanut noodles (cooked by a Japanese chef for a change), it was time to run round trying to get rid of the last few dollars I had left. Unfortunately there were only souvenir shops in this area of town, so I ended up with some expensive chocolates and a history of Canadian sailing.

My bike had spent the afternoon on board the ferry, though it had to be suddenly taken off again right at the last minute when the customs official demanded to see my white card (which for some reason wasn't stapled into my passport). Once that small oversight was sorted we were off and plenty of passengers of the forty onboard were asking about my trip. One middle aged gentleman asked me to explain where Cornwall was as his Grandmother had come from there, but he'd never got around to researching it. Just as I was finishing my geography lesson (including maps) the ship's captain announced the sighting of a whale ahead of us. This time I was determined to capture it (on film) and got a fairly decent shot. Well, I think so anyway. You just have to zoom in a little to see it…

After just an hour we were in Washington State and immediately the difference was noticeable. Traffic was more hostile, drunks were on every street corner (I couldn't recall seeing a drunk person in Canada except for Dawson City) and litter lined the streets. After asking in the visitor information about available campgrounds I was told of a County Fayre and decided I should check it out. Unfortunately I wasn't allowed to take the bike in with me, so decided I'd have to give it a miss. Didn't look that great anyway. I left Port Angeles and headed to the Elwha Dam campsite which was offering cheap pitches to anyone on a bicycle due to there being a huge race in town the next day. Setting up next to me was a couple from Seattle, though Chris was originally from England (yay!) and River from Australia (boo!). Luckily it had been a good day for England in the cricket so I was able to bring that up at every opportunity. They were heading out to dinner and invited me to join them, was a really nice evening and made me feel happier about being back in the USA. Tonight was also my first introduction to the world of Twilight...a world I would get to see the very centre of over the next few days...

Lady Smith and Victoria

Parksville to Ladysmith (36.5 miles)

Ladysmith to Victoria (57.5 miles)

Total Miles: 2,512.8

Victoria, British Columbia

As soon as I left Parksville, I was onto a major highway for the first time since leaving Fairbanks. Huge trucks, thousands of cars and a shoulder covered in glass and gravel. No chance for enjoying the scenery today, it was just a case of self preservation and trying to get through to my destination as quickly as possible. It didn't take too long to get to Nanaimo, where the ferries take passengers to Vancouver on the mainland. I had decided that it was getting too late into summer for me to have another week off as the night's were already getting longer, so it was with regret that I decided to stay on the Island rather than visiting Phil and Marge, the friends I made up in Whitehorse.

Nanaimo had a good network of cycle paths through it, which thankfully allowed me to get off the highway. It was also very hilly though, which seemed to be a feature of all the towns I visited in  the southern part of the Island. Looked to be a pretty city, but with so many tourists about it is hard to leave the bicycle anywhere to let me go off and explore. Instead I hid the bike round the back of a cafe and treated myself to a seafood club sandwich. Made a change from noodles and burgers. Was just a few more miles to Ladysmith where I decided it was time to treat myself to a motel again. I also went to a bar to watch the Toronto Blue Jays being roundly beaten by the Boston Red Sox and then went next door to another Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet. A bit of an expensive day, but I need a bit of pampering now and then.

Included in the motel price was a 'free' breakfast at the restaurant over the road - so I naturally ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. Spoke to the motel owner who let me know there was an alternate road running parallel to the highway which would be a lot quieter, as well as passing through some beautiful villages. He also warned of a monster mountain just before Victoria that if possible I'd do well to avoid. With all that covered I went off to cycle the smaller road and although it was quieter it was extremely hilly.  Before long I was in the village of Chemainus, famous for it's huge murals all over the local buildings. Hundreds of tourists here too though, which again meant I was unable to wander far from the bike.

Instead I returned to the winding, up and down country road which was seriously sapping my energy. In the end I returned to the highway knowing it would be flatter - even at the cost of too much traffic. Just before getting to the Mill Bay ferry, which would allow me to bypass the mountain, I decided to stop for lunch and made up pasta while listening to the first of my Spanish lessons. The ferry was meant to cost $5 but I had got chatting to a woman who had a spare ticket which she kindly donated to me. Was just a short little ride now to Victoria which is by far the biggest city I'd yet to pass through, and not knowing where a campsite might be I resorted to another night in a motel. Well, it was my last night in Canada and so I had to use up all my spare dollars...

For the Love of Courtenay

Campbell River to Courtenay (31.3 miles)

Courtenay to Parksville (51.7 miles)

Total Miles: 2,418.8

Ahhh, to be woken at 6am by the sweet, sweet sound of industrial machinery breaking the morning silence...followed by angry shouting and then more silence. That was the start to my day, though thankfully it got better. After getting my laundry done and having breakfast I went for a tour of the town. Down by the harbour side it was fairly touristy and I found Dickie's Fish and Chips which had been recommended to me. And very good it was too, though obviously not up to the standard of back home.

It was a sunny day and getting really hot and as the road followed the coast line it was also really busy. There were plenty of small fishing villages which offered lots of places to hide in the shade and get refreshments. Being right on the shoreline meant the day's riding was flat, which allowed me to relax and take in the scenery - impressive mountains and volcanoes were visible over the water. As the road started to cut inland, then the hills returned and my mind wondered to what might happen when the trip comes to an end. Will I ever be able to work in an office again?

Was a short day riding due to my late start and I got to Courtenay, a pretty little town filled with flowers and regular sized shops...rather than mammoth superstores, by early afternoon. The streets were all piping out some muzak which made it quite surreal. Like being in a giant elevator. I was able to get a new gas canister for my stove and a spare tyre for the bike, then went to the local bar for a bit. Nothing was happening there so it was back to the campsite and an early night. The next day I awoke already sweating as the sun streamed through into the tent. The road returned to the coast and reminded me of North Devon, with cute little villages full of cottages and some dramatic scenery. I found a nice little cafe in Deep Bay where I stopped for lunch and a chance to use their wi-fi. I think I may have outstayed my welcome there though, as I heard the owner tell her son to "go turn the internet off". Subtle, but effective. Today was one of the few days where I wasn't wearing trousers and it didn't take long before my legs were getting sunburnt. Other than that, it was a great day for riding and plenty of other people were out enjoying the sunshine too. I probably saw more people today than I had in the previous two months combined and all the motels along the coast were fully booked. When I got to Parksville I found the campsite which  charged the odd price of $23.52. Was really busy here too and one group of campers had managed to set up a cinema screen and were all watching Star Wars. Parksville was a fairly ugly town and as I didn't need anything I spent the evening doing maintenance on the bike...and my sunburnt legs. Tomorrow I'll get to Nanaimo and decide whether to visit Phil and Marge in Vancouver, or continue south to Victoria.

Escape from the Wilderness

Port McNeil to Keta Lake (78.9 miles)

Keta Lake to Campbell River (50.3 miles)

Total Miles: 2,335.9

There is something soothing about sleeping on a boat and despite being a foot longer than the bed I'd been made, I managed to get a good night's sleep without falling off once. Patrick woke shortly after I did to take Lizzy for a walk and after this we all had breakfast together, though I still opted for my instant oatmeal. I wasn't too sure how far I planned to cycle today and there was a lack of available campsites shown on the map. After the two mile steep climb out of Port McNeil there were rolling hills, but nothing too bad. There were also rest areas every 15 miles or so meaning I was able to stop and get plenty of food inside me and take my time. At 2pm I came to a nice looking area where I was able to stop for lunch and got chatting to Robert and his family who were visiting from Edmonton. They invite me to stay with them tomorrow night at his Mum's house in Nanaimo, but as that is still over 100 miles away I think it'll be unlikely. After having my  noodles, I get back on the road and come to a small community called Woss which reminds me of the British chat show host who cannot pronounce his Rs. There is a small pub there and after asking for a coke am told that the gas on the machine has gone. She disappears for some time to the gas station next door, coming back with a few cans of Diet Coke which after drinking I am charged $2.50 for! Should have just gone to the gas station myself. The road out of Woss is hilly again and with trees lining the whole way there is little to see or take photos of.

I had decided to camp at Montague Creek which was marked on the map as a recreation site, though I was totally unable to find it. The map I was using didn't have a great deal of detail on it, so it was hard to know exactly where you were. I checked with my phone's GPS which confirmed I had gone past the spot where the site should be. Despite being tired at this point, and it getting dark, I'm not one for going backwards so decided to push on to the next rec site, still 20 more miles away. After just ten miles it has turned pitch black, is after 9pm and without lights on my bike I'm not happy being out on the road. I come to a small rest area and decide it will have to do, even though camping is not permitted there. Making up chilli in the dark and then sleeping right next to the highway as noises from passing trucks and the local wildlife permeate the tent is not the ideal night of camping..but at least it was free.

After a poor night's sleep I decided I had to get myself packed as a big tent in a rest area does look a bit odd. The morning was foggy but felt as though it would brighten and warm up later. The road started with a long 8 mile downhill to the second of the two recreation sites, so I could have probably made it okay the previous evening, but it would have been a scary downhill to do in the dark. Just after this site was the turn-off to Sayward with a gas station, visitor centre and restaurant. The latter was offering breakfasts for just $5.99 which was far too good to turn down. Once full it was back to the same sort of riding as the previous day, plenty of hills and trees everywhere. There were still plenty of rest areas available and one of these, overlooking Spirit Lake, was where I stopped for lunch. As I  was making up some pasta (a break from noodles), a couple of couples approached and offered me some homemade cookies. Well, that's a sure way to get my attention and we chatted for awhile about our respective trips. It's hard finding out what other people are up to once they know you are cycling 18,000 miles. They seem to have so many questions...

Once I got to Campbell River I immediately wanted to return to the wilderness. Too much traffic, with signs, signals and road layouts that are all new to me, combine for a scary experience. I manage to find a small little RV  park though, set up my pitch and then head out to explore. A small cemetery is guarded over by a couple of majestic totem poles and there are plenty of dinner options. Having eaten mostly noodles and rice for the past few weeks it seems natural that I should opt for a Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet. I manage to get through three platefuls before they had to close, which is a shame as I was just getting into it. Still, it's good value at just $8.95.

I'd spent many miles on the bike looking forward to getting to a proper town, where I can shop, get fed and see people. The reality of it all was rather disappointing and part of me wanted to be back on the Cassiar Highway, miles from everyone else.

Who Ordered the Salmon?

Port Hardy to Port McNeil (26.0 miles)

Total Miles: 2,206.7

Port Hardy, British Columbia

It's amazing how much noise other people make when leaving campgrounds at 5am. You've probably never even noticed, but let me assure you that it's almost a skill to be able to shout, slam doors and rev motorcycle engines without any regard to other campers. By the time the early morning starters had all left it was fairly pointless trying to sleep anymore and so I got up myself to see just how badly I'd put up the tent the night before. Still, it did the job. After using their odd facilities of toilets without locking doors, showers without curtains and a mirror that was 90 per cent cracks, I got ready to leave. As I was wheeling out of the site I noticed another biker so pulled over to find out where he was headed. Shaun was a local and gave me some advice on the best way to get down the Island. As we were chatting a salmon dropped from the sky and landed just a few feet away from us. Shaun went to pick it up and ask the hosts what they wanted to do with it and was watched the whole time by the bald eagle whose prey had been lost.

One of the things Shaun told me was that in Port McNeil there was a decent supermarket where I'd be able to get all the groceries I'd need to last me till Campbell River. It only took a couple of hours to get there and although there was a long downhill to the port, which is normally enough to put me off visiting a place,  I decided I could do with some provisions so went to check it out. It turned out that it was the first day of Orcafest, a local festival with live music, BBQs, shows and other activities I didn't understand. While I was checking out the visitor information centre I ran into Patrick, a South African Canadian who was sailing from southern BC up to Alaska. We chatted for awhile and then I got to meet his girlfriend Emily and was invited me to spend the night with them on their boat.

I initially wasn't too sure about the offer, but thought it might be fun to spend some time with them anyway so we went over to 'Sea Sea Rider' and chatted about our respective adventures for the afternoon while listening to the music drifting over the harbour. I then figured it would be easier, and cheaper, to stay there than get to a campsite so they prepared one of the additional beds and we set off out for dinner. Had been another remarkable day, from eagles dropping salmon to sleeping on a 5ft long, 2ft wide piece of foam rocking back and forth on the ocean, and that is why I love this trip so much. What will tomorrow bring?

The Prince of Whales

Prince Rupert to Port Hardy (0.0 miles)

Total Miles: 2,180.6

Prince Rupert, British Columbia

For just the second time on the trip, I had set my alarm for a wake up call at 5.30am. Ignoring the urge to roll over and go back to sleep I packed up my tent, wet from the dew, and got ready to leave. Thick fog was all around and on the way down the the harbour I startled a deer which had been grazing by the roadside. There were a few cars about, but it wasn't as busy as I'd been expecting, which meant that when I got onboard there were plenty of seats on offer.

The crossing was scheduled to take 15 hours, so there was plenty of time to look around, get some food and take a nap. For the first hour, the fog stayed all around so views were limited and I took the opportunity for the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. After this I went to explore and realised the ship didn't offer much more than two restaurants and a very small gift shop. But it did offer magnificent views all around and most people had gone above deck to enjoy the passing scenery. The route was down the Inside Passage, a small channel between the Canadian mainland and numerous islands to the west. There was always plenty to look at, with salmon jumping alongside and eagles hovering above.

Despite this, 15 hours is a long time to spend in one place - even if it is moving - and it wasn't too long before the journey was starting to drag a bit. Most passengers seemed to be either sleeping or spending time in the cafe drinking beer, and I opted for the former, with occasional trips outside whenever the captain let us know of some passing landmark.

One of these was a lighthouse, comprised of a collection of small houses; absolutely miles from anywhere, it must be a pretty lonely job! They showed a movie in the Raven Lounge at one point and halfway through it a humpback whale was spotted ahead of the ship which just about caused a stampede. I'd personally never seen one before and watched in amazement as it seemed to perform for the ship; blowing huge jets of water and then gracefully arching through the water to show off it's massive tail. It then kept tapping it's tail on the water and it took me some time to realise I should be taking a photo or a video or...anything! Alas, I was too late; it's last big splash indicating a dive to the depths. Luckily, there were plenty  more after this, but I somehow failed to get a single good photo of any of them. Pretty elusive and quick for such a big animal - feel free to look up a photo on Google Images and pretend that I took it. There ended up being so many whales, about 15 in total, that it almost became a chore to cross to the other side of the ship to look out for one. But I kept on doing it, hoping for the 'killer photo'. Unfortunately, not one of my talents.

By the time we docked in Port Hardy it was after 11pm and pitch black all around. There was a campsite just a few miles from the port, but without bike lights, and no street lights either, the short journey seemed to last forever. Luckily the hosts were still up, obviously used to the late check-ins caused by the ferry times, and helped me find a pitch. My tent was still wet from the morning and not being able to see my pitch properly it wasn't particularly easy to put up. I think I managed it and hoped I'd sleep okay before half the campsite got up at 5.30am to catch the return ferry. It had been a long day, even without much cycling!

Terrace is Cloudyville 2009

Kitwanga to Terrace (63.8 miles)

Total Miles: 2,081.7

I had been looking forward to today's ride ever since I decided to head to Prince Rupert instead of Prince George. One rider I met had described it as the 'best cycle ride in the whole of Canada' and as it followed the river for almost 150 miles was promising to be flat and easy. There was also the additional incentive of a city at the end of the day's riding which had suddenly become hugely appealing after so long in the wilderness. So the fact it turned into one of my most miserable days on the tour really shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise.

Kitwanga sits at the junction of the Cassiar and Yellowhead highways and as soon as I turned west onto Yellowhead the wind was against me. There was also very low lying cloud everywhere which gave the effect of cycling in the rain and prevented any good views of the magnificent mountain range I was cycling around. It was also very busy which meant I had to concentrate on my line and stay pretty much as far over into the shoulder as I could with all the glass and gravel. Still, it was flat...

Despite the problems caused by the weather, the real frustration was that mentally I switched off for the day. I left Kitwanga without filling up on water meaning I had only 1.5 litres for the journey, I was also wearing my casual shorts which have riveted seams. Well, you can guess the problems that causes during seven hours in the saddle.

After stopping for lunch at a rest area on the river to have noodles I suddenly became quite depressed and lonely. It had been sometime since I had been in the company of friends and I was starting to question what on earth I was doing. My water levels had reached critical as well, though I still thought I could get to Terrace without having to start using the filter again. After a few more miles I passed Usk Pioneer Chapel, a tiny little church in the middle of nowhere. I took shelter from the wind there for a few minutes, also hoping there was a source of water but unfortunately it didn't. I signed the guestbook though and then remembered I had an apple in my bag which would at least quench my thirst temporarily.

After fifty miles of cycling, just ten miles before Terrace, I came to Kleanza Creek Campground which thankfully had a water pump and my water problems were finally relieved. This looked to be a really nice campground too and several families were having picnics and playing in the creek. The combination of seeing people and being able to drink freely again was enough to lift my spirits and so I pushed on to Terrace. On the outskirts of the city was a huge map which allowed me to find out where the municipal campground was and so I made that my first destination. After having spent a couple of weeks staying at municipal campgrounds in France I expected this to be just a few dollars, but was surprised to learn they were charging $16 here. A reasonable rate for a family filled RV, but rather excessive for a solo bicycle traveller. It was a remarkably attractive site though, located on a wooded island where a local artist had carved faces into many of the huge cottonwood trees. The rest of Terrace was not so attractive, though this may have been due to it being entirely cloaked in cloud the whole time I was there. I did make my first visit to an A&W fast food restaurant though, in order to try out their 'famous' root beer float. Sadly, it wasn't as good as their marketing.

The whole of Terrace was also covered in signs proclaiming that 'Terrace is Hockeyville 2009' after winning a national vote to be awarded the title of Canada's most fervent supporter of ice hockey. Knowing nothing about the sport whatsoever it was hard to be impressed. I'm not sure what I was hoping for after spending so long in the wild, but unfortunately Terrace wasn't it. As the rain continued to fall, I was already dreaming of Prince Rupert and what may be on offer there.