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Globe Busting... Canada

How about a landmark journey that crosses the world’s second largest country, taking in some of the most breathtaking scenery that the world has to offer, but without testing the extremes of human endurance? An adventurous expedition with the chance to ride into the wilderness on unpaved roads, to see wildlife not found in Europe, to experience all sorts of terrain and riding conditions, yet within a ‘First World’ environment where English is the first language (French is the second) and there is always a comfortable hotel with clean sheets, hot water and a cold beer at the end of the day? We are, of course, talking about Canada.

When my husband, Craig, and I set off to research a Trans-Canada journey for GlobeBusters in 2009 the only things we knew for sure were that Canada offers one of the widest trans-continental rides on planet earth, that there’s a large flat bit in the middle, that we wanted to explore the little known Labrador Territory in the east, that there are a lot of trees and that only one of us had decent enough French to deal with Quebec. Distances were clearly huge – entering Canadian airspace less than halfway through our flight to Vancouver reinforced this view.

eastern promise

The welcoming sign at Vancouver airport says ’Canada means freedom, diversity and nature’ and as we unboxed our trusty BMW GS1200 at the shipping agent nearby. I was almost jumping up and down with excitement – in a couple of days Craig and I were heading east on a five week journey to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Vancouver is an excellent place from which to start a journey; tall glass buildings glittering in the afternoon sun with a backdrop of ocean and mountains, seaplanes landing in the harbour, racoons in the trees, dragonflies zooming up Main Street, a skunk rifling through a dustbin, and everywhere, people out walking.

simply treemendous

The first two days of our journey in British Columbia passed by in a blur of mountains and trees. There are trees growing on every square inch that hasn’t got something else on it. They grow sometimes less than a foot apart, so densely that you can’t see into the woods from the road. And the forests seem endless, stretching from the water’s edge to the mountain tops. It’s incredible, trees simply everywhere. The smell of tree sap, burning trees, pulp mills, lumber, woodsmoke from home fires; houses made of logs, piles of logs, lorries piled high with logs, stacks of logs outside houses. Trees fill your senses. You can see and smell them wherever you are.

mountain excitement

We had decided to steer clear of the main highways whenever possible, and headed north up a fire track through the mountains. Forest fires soon put paid to that plan though. Summer ’09 was marked by extensive fires which resulted in road closures and evacuations and on our second day, after a morning spent riding mud and stone fire trails in the hills, we soon realised the forest was alight in the distance. The smoke soon became chokingly thick and a wild-eyed Ranger in a Land Rover appeared on the track to give us a ticking off, shouting that we should “Get the hell out, ‘cos BC’s on fire!”

Back on the highway the following day, the Rockies were an eagerly anticipated landmark on our journey. The road slowly gained height and vast mountains rose to eye-watering heights in the distance. We soon reached the Icefields Parkway, simply the most stunning mountain scenery I have ever seen. The 170 mile route between Jasper and Banff takes in the best that the Rockies has to offer. Rising to 10,000ft, the road winds past waterfalls, glaciers and broad, deep lakes. Range after range of mountains thrust craggy peaks far into the sky, their snow covered tops cradling valleys which are often filled with glaciers. Those are so beautiful, glowing from inside with a strange blue-ish light that’s quite magical. Their melt-water is a startling bright green in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the crystal blue skies and sparkling icefields.

After Banff we headed out of Alberta and the mountains and entered the open prairie lands of Saskatchewan. As the mountains receded and the land flattened out, the trees were fewer, the fields got larger, and it became hotter and very windy. The sky was vast and we watched huge thunderclouds develop in the heat and the winds grew stronger as they blew their way across vast plains of wheat. These are broad, open farmlands and endless roads weave their way across the vast prairie, a scene only broken by the occasional farm, grain tower and town. But far from being dull, the vast skies above grabbed our attention as weather systems formed and dissipated within our sight. The ‘Land of the living skies’ left both of us feeling humbled, awed and very, very small.

beauty and the beasts

That’s the thing about Canada – it is impossible to appreciate how vast it is until you get there. And much of it is wild. Around every little homestead, with its neat lawns and baskets of flowers, is hundreds and thousands, of miles of untamed nature filled with elk, bears, moose, bison and wolves.

We headed north again, the idea being to take our ride away from the beaten track and into the wilderness. Leaving open farmland behind, we entered a picturesque area of pine forests and lakes. We rode long distances between settlements on both Tarmac and dirt roads, journeys broken only by the occasional stop for fuel and food.

northern exposure

Leaving Saskatchewan behind, we entered Manitoba at the pioneering silver-mining town of Flin Flon.

It reminded us of the TV series ‘Northern Exposure’, except there is a bit more in the way of industry and jobs. This is as far north as it’s possible to get in this part of the country, with nothing but lakes, trees and ‘muskeg’ (lake-filled marshland) between there and the Arctic Circle. Here we met some real characters – the scar-faced hunter at the trading post at Caribou Creek who’d been attacked by a bear; the ice-road trucker who’d twice fallen through the ice, truck and all.

The only way out of Flin Flon is south through the Pas; we rode along dirt roads through clouds of huge blue dragonflies, back towards the Trans Canada Highway which we inevitably had to join to get into Ontario. The road weaved its way around billions of lakes, through endless forests and past evocative sounding towns such as Cranberry Portage, Sioux Narrows and Kakabeka Falls. We rode along the northern edge of Lake Superior for a time, the road shadowed by mountains once again and had some excellent riding along well paved ‘twisties’ through national parks famous for their dinosaur fossils and primeval scenery.

Riding over the border into Quebec Province was quite odd. You take your earplugs out at the first petrol station where you stop, and everything’s the same... except everyone’s talking French. Even though you know it’s going to happen it’s still weird. And Quebec City – what a surprise! Charming, and reminiscent of New Orleans. There really were people in rocking chairs on their verandas and jazz floated on the breeze. We broke our self-imposed ‘no cities’ rule to visit Moto Vanier BMW in the city centre. This was to change to off-road tyres in preparation for another landmark of the adventure – the Trans Labrador Highway (TLH).

mystique and legend

We were looking forward to our 750 mile off-road ride down the TLH with trepidation. The TLH has almost never been ridden by European riders and carries its own mystique and legend for motorcyclists in the Americas. It’s notorious because it’s in such bad condition; mostly hard-packed dirt with a covering of sand and loose gravel, but when it’s been freshly graded it’s a nightmare. The bike fishtails around underneath you and you have to resist the temptation to snatch at the brakes and instead just power through it, although not too much or you slew all over the place. The very worst thing is downhill and on a bend, when the road is corrugated and also cambered. Not for nothing are there stickers and T-shirts saying ’I survived the Trans Labrador Highway’.

After a day off in Forestville, we turned off the main road and onto Highway 500 – the TLH. The road is remote and there is absolutely nothing along it, few settlements, petrol stations or services other than those at the massive hydro electric dam at Manic 5, then Labrador City, Churchill Falls and Goose Bay.

We rode across the Quebec border and into the province of Newfoundland and Labrador, back into English speaking territory. The country steadily rose, a land that’s clothed entirely with endless forests of Jack Pine and carved by massive forces over millennia. The road took us through areas where very few, aside from pioneers or miners, ever visit. That said, the occasional huge articulated lorries were hazardous, often being driven at high speed along the gravel and drifting through the bends, throwing up clouds of impenetrable dust.

Soon the weather broke and huge fat raindrops pelted down on us with malevolent violence. A thunderstorm erupted and there was no shelter so we pressed on slowly, as the lightning flashed around us. When it’s wet it’s like riding on marbles and the last part of the journey was pretty miserable as we skittered and slewed along. We pulled up outside the Two Seasons Inn in Labrador City. “Two Seasons?” “Yes,” said the receptionist, “we have only two seasons here, winter... and August.”

underground

Labrador City is a ‘company town’, as is Churchill Falls, the only other place along this stage of the TLH where you can stop. Everyone there works at the huge electricity generating station up the road, which is entirely underground. There isn’t much here and the crime rate is zero because “If you commit a crime, you’re out. The company owns everyone”. One hotel, one school and some houses, all huddled together as though for protection.

As bikers, you are very vulnerable in case of an accident. We were issued with a satellite phone at Labrador City, a free service paid for by the government. It will only dial the emergency services, and you hand it back in when you reach Goose Bay. We carried food and water with us, and stopped to make tea with our Trangia stove beside a little river, enjoying the absolute silence and wondering if we would actually hear a bear approaching. There is very little birdsong despite the amount of forest; just the occasional call from a bird of prey.

pioneer town

The final section of this stage of the journey took us to Goose Bay, a pioneer town that was established only in 1939 around the large RAF base that was built there. Most of the buildings looked like shipping containers and our hotel was no exception, although it was cosy and welcoming inside and there was a huge polar bear skin on the wall. Even though the town is no longer a massive RAF base, it still feels like one. During the afternoon we watched the Canadian Red Arrows circling above, then saw a Hercules make an emergency landing with its engine on fire, and later the German crew turned up at our hotel to await their aircraft being fixed.

The following day we embarked on a wheezy and ancient overnight ferry which dropped us in the cold early morning light of Cartwright. When we repeat the journey later this year for GlobeBusters we will continue down the newly completed last section of the TLH from Goose Bay to Cartwright Junction.

As the month changed from August to September, so did the weather and we found ourselves riding into the tail end of Hurricane Bill, which had lashed the American east coast a few days earlier. A strong wind blew up and the condition of the piste worsened – we rode in ruts left by previous vehicles as it was the only way to make any progress. It was exhausting and we found ourselves riding slower as conditions worsened.

crackling welcome

What we hoped would be a triumphant ride out of the Labrador turned into a long and difficult day’s ride, leaving us unable to properly appreciate the stunning views as the piste led us across high open moorland territory, dotted with lakes and rugged outcrops of rock. We arrived in Red Bay soaked and tired, but exhilarated at completing the TLH. A warm and cosy shore-side loft apartment awaited us, with a crackling wood stove and a wonderful view out to sea. The warmth of the log fire, the home-made bowls of fresh fish soup we were given, and our welcome in that little village made the entire day worthwhile.

newfoundland

After a 36 hour delay to allow the sea to calm down, we took another ancient ferry to Newfoundland and the road southwards through the Gros Morne mountains. A night stop at Rocky Harbour meant a meal of locally caught fish and a chance to familiarise ourselves with the Newfoundland dialect, not quite Irish, not quite English West Country – a wonderful burr which was a delight to listen to.

Our ride to St John’s, the capital of Newfoundland, the following day also reminded us of home, with a landscape reminiscent of Scotland, the west coast of Ireland and Cornwall as we covered big miles to reach shelter before another hurricane hit the area.

Arriving at St John’s we stopped at Cape Spear, the most easterly place in the American continent and only 1800 miles from our home. We celebrated in style, with fresh lobster and British Columbian wine, as the rain started to fall and the wind howled outside.

Leaving St John’s was a wrench but our journey continued, via the overnight ferry from Argentia to North Sydney, down to Halifax in Nova Scotia via the beautiful Cabot Trail and the soft, misty landscapes that make ‘New Scotland’ so attractive. Our route passed through softer mountains and alongside deep blue lakes before we joined our first motorway since Vancouver, passing towns such as New Glasgow and Truro before arriving in historic Halifax, 6700 miles and 22 riding days from Vancouver. Journey’s end.

landmark adventure

The scale of the Trans-Canada journey is awesome, but also belies its relatively straightforward nature. This is a ride that could be contemplated by almost everyone and although we experienced everything from smooth Tarmac highway to gravelly off-road tracks, the kind of support that is provided by GlobeBusters means that almost anyone could tackle this landmark adventure and have the experience
of their lives.

We’re looking forward to going back to the Canadian wilderness and taking a group of GlobeBusters riders who will find out how amazing this journey is.
Check out www.globebusters.com for further information about the 2011 Trans-Canada Expedition.