It ain’t half hot Mum!

We had reached Liard River Hot Springs campground. A busy and full site with mainly smaller RV’s and vans but with the occasional tent. Each pitch was a fine pitch gravel that had been swept before the next guest arrived. As we were used to, we positioned a bike either end of the tent to tie the main guy ropes too. When the tent was pitched and all bags stowed away, we decided it was time to explore the hot springs…

We were pitched some way from the 700m boardwalk that led out of the bear-proof electric fencing that surrounded the campground (keeping us in or the bears out?) and I was concerned about how far I could walk. I hadn’t walked much since taking refuge in the Whitehorse apartment and my left leg was still ‘loose’ and having stumbled earlier in the day, my leg was pretty un-supportive of what I wanted to do. Would it get me there?

Outside the perimeter fence and the boardwalk took you across an open marsh area, with numerous small rivulets running from small pool to small pool, surrounding tufts of grasses and stunted trees that struggled for existence in the warm, calcified waters. The river Chubb in the water were unique, having adapted to the warm, mineral rich waters. The boardwalk then entered an old woodland where the wildlife was happy to share space with us. The squirrels or the birds were not afraid of as, I believe, they were in full knowledge that we kept to the boardwalk and the rest was theirs. It was a long walk and I took my time with many people over-taking us and the usual English apologies offered for being in their way - or just for existing…

Lots of “don’ts” but all for the good of the wildlife - not forgetting the bears

The hot springs had one bank converted in to changing areas and benches with numerous steps in to the pools. There was no power or drinking water as these would require services imported the length of the boardwalk - it was as natural as it could be, whilst providing safe access to the water. One higher pool where the hot spring bubbled up and a lower pool where it was cooler, as cold water flowed off the other banks to dilute the warmth and minerals of the heated spring. The banks were natural and, unlike the pools at Whitehorse, they had a feeling of timelessness and calm. Tree roots dipped their toes in the water as they held the earth banks together. The air was filled with the mixed smells of lush vegetation and sulphur as the mists lifted from the water. The floor was gravel that caught between your toes but rounded enough not to be sharp and painful. The water was murky with suspended particles of vegetation and algae that was disturbed by the other guests resting, chatting and generally being totally laid back. The whole area had a sense of calm and wellbeing.

The water temperature changed as you moved around the pool. In places it was far too hot, with the scalding water laying above the cooler water at the bottom. These pockets of hotter water would move around the pool so staying put didn’t guarantee a particular warmth. In the top left corner is where the springs erupt and it is a challenge to take a stone from the floor and place it around the edge of the outlet. I couldn’t get close but Isi did manage it - more than once!

It was in a cooler area where we met Marcie and chatted away about the springs, our journey, life and everything and anything. Over the few days we were there, Marcie became a new friend, seeking us out on the campsite and being a very genuinely nice person. On the morning of us leaving, we pulled in to Marcie’s pitch, to be shown her early morning photo of a moose appearing out of the mist, just off the boardwalk, so the following picture is not ours but is reproduced with the kind permission of Marcie. She may be jealous of our trip but I’m seriously jealous of that photo!

Copyright Marcie - Lucy Moosey in the early morning mist

Those few days of switching off and enjoying the natural spring waters were a real tonic for my back and my mind. We were both rejuvinated and ready for the next stage. We had managed a few days on the bike and knew the journey would continue - maybe slower than we were before (slow) but we were heading South under our own steam.

Having had no internet for a few days, we were desperate to check in on the World and to think about what we do next. The Hot Springs had been a real wind-down but the reality of life on the road needed to be dealt with. First thing to do was sort out paying the credit card that was due in a few weeks. Not so easy, as I needed to get money out of savings in time for the payment. Would be easy in the UK but the new level of security being imposed on us is a nightmare. I don’t have access to a UK SIM to receive a call or a text and no, I can’t call you as the number you provide is not recognised by my US SIM and we are on different continents and timezones! Travelling has made me realise just how insular some companies can be to the needs of their customers away from home. Scenario testing should include customers outside the bubble of the country of operation - I may be on a bike ride, but I’m still a customer with needs…

We had been told Toad River was a great place for a bite to eat and wifi - they weren’t wrong! As we went to sit down, a couple we had seen the previous day said hi and he smuggly said - I have my ride outside and whilst it has to go some to beat yours, I think I have it. I looked across the yard and there was a light aircraft parked the other side - I gave in! He had spent today hopping between small grass strips, throughout the mountains - what a way to travel!

A couple more of the cheese grater grid-iron bridges that had our bikes and stomachs squirming all over the shop and it was time to find refuge for the night. Reaching the outskirts of Fort Nelson and cell coverage, we pulled over and started looking. We wanted somewhere we could charge batteries, upload via wifi and self catering. We thought we’d found the perfect place - £68 for a motel with a kitchenette - £10 more than a standard room and reviews ranging from appalling to very good. Most times, I take the poor reviews with a pinch of salt but I rather wish I hadn’t in this case.

From the outside, the place was shabby and un-cared for. Half the motel rooms looked like they hadn’t been touched in a number of years. The man behind the desk was pleasant enough but that’s about as far as it went. We opened the door and stepped in to the 1970’s! It was a hot afternoon and the room was in direct sunlight. It had an air-conditioning unit stuck in the window but proved ineffective and just noisy. Thankfully, as the sun drops, so do the temperatures and the poor insulation was a blessing to lose the heat quickly. It did remain comfortable for the rest of the night.

The sofa was totally threadbare and the floor was a brown, thin vinyl with wear marks in the high traffic areas. Nothing matched in the dishes or the cutlery. The cutlery drawer was lined with foil that had not been changed in a very long time. We opened the electric oven door once to see inside and were lucky to escape with our lives. The rings on the top were lined with foil that was covered in food spills from previous customers over many years. Turn the rings on and you had an odour of old grease smells reminiscent of a transport cafe long past its hygiene safety certificate.

We decided to use our own cutlery and wash the pans we were going to use, prior to using. There was no plug for the sink or washing liquid. The plug was fixed by forcing the bath plug in to the smaller hole. The washing liquid came from our own stock, so we avoided botulism and left the kitchen cleaner than how we found it.

The bedroom had 2 large comfortable beds. The sideboard was something my Nan would have picked up post-war and looked after for the rest of her life - this sideboard was not so lucky! The curtains were too small for the windows and the metal runners had never seen a hint of grease from the day they were installed. As I was looking for sockets to plug my phone in, I found dried blood on the headboard, just below the mattress. Whilst the blood appeared old, the sheets on the bed were clean and fresh. We did discuss using our sleeping bags but decided there was no need.

Whilst all of the above was bad, in poorer countries, I can expect to have a bin by the toilet to put soiled paper in. But Canada? Is this really the kind of accommodation that Canada has to offer? Suffice to say, we were happy to leave in the morning. No-one to complain to and booking.com not interested - chalk it up to experience…

The road today was pretty boring. Yes, I know that is a negative statement when travelling through British Columbia and not one that BC deserves but it was boring. Straight roads with relatively flat landscapes and the only thing to keep us awake was chasing down the car in front - took about 100km and even then, I only caught him as he pulled in for a rest. We were warned that it would not be as interesting but that was an understatement. Lunch stop was a couple of boiled eggs in a lay-by, whilst watching a trucker check his load before hauling out. Really, not much to comment about.

Finally Fort St John came in to a view and it was no better than the road. It was industrial with a light smog of woodsmoke from the nearby fires and, as I write this some weeks later, the smoke has only intensified. We were tired and the effects of Liard Hot Springs wearing off. A quick booking.com and we found a good deal on a Travelodge room just around the corner. Turned out to be a big room with twin Queen beds, great wifi and laundry facilities on site - we quickly booked for the following night and used the time to create videos and blogs.

Typical for a chain hotel, the restaurant was attached, so we took the easy option and grabbed a table. Turned out to be karaoke night and we spent the evening admiring the skills of some and the nerves of others. Obviously, we were too shy and reserved to even consider it! The following night was not such a great experience - the staff, food and atmosphere were not great!

Having recharged our batteries, it was time to move on but not before marvelling at how orange the sky was from all the fires. Maybe marvel was not the right word, especially if you had to live with the smell and muted sunlight for any length of time.

Ready. Steady. Cook!

We were being evicted!