As our little caravan pushes northward, I am settling into a predictable rhythm:
Prep the RV for travel.
Hit the road between 10 and 11.
Chat with our traveling friends (the Sloans) via walkie-talkie about road conditions, a joke, riddle or perhaps a verse of the day.
Help the kids with school in the car.
Watch for animals.
Pause for breathtaking vistas, overlooks, lakes and towering mountain ranges.
Call out animal sightings (black bear, moose, wood buffalo, and rock sheep) over the walkies.
Stop for a potty and lunch break.
Spy additional animals.
See more spectacular views.
Discuss where to stop for the night.
Find a pullout and set up house.
Prep lunches for the next day.
Pull down the shades to block out the sun.
Head to bed.
We are currently on day six of this routine. Our hair is greasy. My laundry basket is plump and we are ready for a solid 24 hours without movement. Yet, despite the fervent pace of our travels, we’ve been blessed by several beautiful pauses:
Visiting a glacier and then boondocking next to it for the night.
Beginning our 1,500+ mile journey to Alaska via the Alaska Hwy in Dawson Creek.
Discovering RV friends that we met in Palm Springs, CA, were nearby and stopping in to visit them for the evening.
Visiting Liard Hot Springs where we got up at 6AM to take a second dip in the steamy waters. The black bear that we met along the boardwalk simply added to the unique, exciting memory (and no, I didn’t get any photos of him)!
Running into a second RV family at the Signpost Forest and having dinner with them before parting ways.
It’s a strange thing to travel through a region so remote that we must rely on a paper map to guide us. Yet we are not alone. Despite the fact that we’ve gone a few days without a cell phone signal, we are in the good company of a host of other RVers slowing making their way northward as well. It feels like we are traveling toward the recreational vehicle Mecca*. Equipped with extra tires, water tanks, and solar panels, we all push on toward the wild frontier.
Between the rugged landscape that reminds me of a vast, more grown-up version of Northern Idaho with higher mountain peaks, and more abundant wildlife and the unique social interaction that we’ve enjoyed, our trip is unfolding beautifully.
*(as noun a Mecca) a place that attracts people of a particular group or with a particular interest:It feels like we are traveling toward the recreational vehicle Mecca.
Meanwhile, Trent is making good progress on capturing our trip and sharing it on YouTube. We’ve crossed the border between Canada and the United States over 10 times in the last year. This was the first time our RV was searched.
This video shows the first campground (Dry Gulch Provincial Park) that we stayed at just south of Banff.