Saturday in Fort Nelson
Some days are driving days, some are not. Today was NOT a
driving day. I must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed – which meant I
smacked into the cabinets or rolled over into the knitting basket. Something. The plan was to drive, drive, drive to Laird Hot Springs and
camp there. As you can tell, that
didn’t happen.
I was crabby, out of sorts, hungry, low blood sugar, achy
back. Oh, and wind. You name it, I
have an excuse for being here. Mrs. Tom Tom lost her electronic mind
and sent me back to Chetwynd.
Swearing and flipping her off didn’t even faze her, and it didn’t make
me feel much better either. When I
finally got headed in the right direction I was all befuddled, and it went
downhill (not literally – the rest of this trip will be uphill) from there.
So, we got from Chetwynd to Dawson Creek, back towards
Chetwynd, and finally headed in the right direction. The road was OK, but the
big trucks here are driven by the same kinds of people who drive big trucks
everywhere – no matter how fast I’m going, they want to be in FRONT of me. From my perspective, it looks like they
are going to devour the T@B, their giant grills
looming in my rear view mirror.
Scary. Yet another reason
to want to get off the road.
The uphills and downhills are ferocious on this part of the
road. Third gear ferocious going
up and 4th going down.
I have six gears to choose from, so it’s all good.
We drove through a spectacular thunderstorm. The black sky, the lightning, and rain
so hard the fast wipers couldn’t keep up with it. Then we came out the other side! By then I had decided I was tired of driving for the day, so
Fort Nelson became the destination. I thought there was a Provincial campground
here. Nope.
This will do. I like the electricity because I can run the
fan. I hear it’s raining in Anchor
Point – I’ll definitely enjoy that for a while.
OK. I’m all
done being crabby. It’s cooling off. The margarita-in-a-pouch is having a
mellowing effect.
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