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Day 21: August 22nd

It was still dark when we woke up, but the horizon was already beginning to brighten. We quickly got ready and headed south, eager to make up for the few miles we covered yesterday. We had a goal to be back home by August 30th. The early morning drive rewarded us with two impressive sightings of female moose. We stopped the car when one of them was about to cross the road. Another car approached from the opposite direction and also came to a halt. The moose paused, looked at both cars as if assessing the situation, then confidently crossed the road with her companions.

After about an hour or two, we stopped at Sawmill Point. The sun was shining brightly as we arrived at this spot by Dease Lake, where a stream flowed into the lake. The area had several picnic tables with cars and RVs parked beside them. The first RV we noticed had a German number plate. We found a vacant picnic table and parked our car beside it. The washrooms were clean, and after a quick visit, we headed to the lake for a dip. The water was surprisingly warmer than the air, making for a comfortable bath. A young man of Chinese origin, on a road trip from Vancouver, appeared with a fishing rod and greeted us. The place was beautiful and private, a perfect spot to relax. We made coffee with latte, packed up our things, and hit the road again.

Our next stop was Dease Lake for gas, where we also found a grocery store and breakfast options. We filled our cool box and enjoyed a meal of bacon, sausage, and samosas. We made another quick stop at Iskut for a blueberry tart and pop.

Despite our delightful encounter with the moose and the refreshing lake bath, the driving felt monotonous. The scenery, though stunning, couldn’t quite compare to the breathtaking views of previous days. We also weren’t making much progress in covering the miles. While the roads were slightly better than yesterday, with most sections well-paved, some parts were still bumpy, and the route continued to wind through hills and valleys.

Tired of driving, we decided to take a break at Meziadin Lake Provincial Park, where we planned to cook a meal. The public picnic area had a shed with two tables. An elderly couple in their early seventies and a young man in his late thirties occupied one table, so we chose the other. They had set up what seemed like a half kitchen, with various food items, vegetables, fruits, and tea. From our spot, we had a priceless view of Meziadin Lake.

As we started to cook, another car pulled up to our picnic shed. The person we had met earlier at Dease Lake emerged, still holding his fishing rod. He hadn’t caught any fish at the previous lake. The young man from the other table, who turned out to be from Lebanon and now living in Prince Rupert, BC, explained that his hook was too big for the fish in this lake and directed him to a better fishing spot. They had a brief conversation, and then the man with the fishing rod left.

Shortly after, two small black bears ran by just a few meters away from us. The Lebanese man mentioned that bears in this area are drawn to the smell of food, but they usually don’t cause any harm. He was a tall man with a mustache and a beard that reached his chest, peppered with gray. He shared his story with us—how he had studied at McGill University, worked in stock trading for a big insurance company in Toronto, and later at a telecom company in Quebec. Despite his well-paying job, he craved a different life. He quit his job, lived in his car, delivered pizza, and saved money. He bought a failing corner store for $35,000, which turned into a $250,000 investment in a few years. He repeated this success a few more times with the help of his siblings, and now he owns multiple businesses and invests in others. He’s hired professionals to manage his enterprises and now lives his dream life in British Columbia.

Our conversation was briefly interrupted by the sight of two bears playing in the lake. When we returned, the Lebanese man offered us some suggestions for our return journey.

After making and drinking a coffee, we hit the road again, heading south. When darkness fell, we stopped at a campground in Hazelton for the night.

Day 22: August 23rd

We hit the road after enjoying a warm shower at the campground and a standard Tim Hortons breakfast with coffee. Having driven through British Columbia for the past two days, we decided to set our sights on Kelowna, about 1,200 kilometers away.

Highway 16 toward Prince George was decent, though it wound up and down, allowing us to maintain an average speed of 90 km/h. Along the way, small towns and cities dotted the landscape, with the typical Canadian stores, gas stations, and franchise restaurants appearing frequently. There was cell service almost everywhere, a clear sign that we were now driving through the more populated part of BC.

But for travelers who had driven thousands of miles to experience the wilderness, this stretch of road lacked the appeal we had come to cherish.

We drove at our own pace, stopping at Hixon and taking a detour down an unpaved road riddled with potholes, hoping to find a picnic table to prepare our meal. Although there was no picnic table in sight, our efforts were rewarded by the breathtaking beauty of Hixon Falls and the surrounding area. As we drove further, a lynx crossed the road, a rare and exciting sight.

We eventually stopped at Ten Mile Lake Provincial Park, which offered picnic tables on the beach, running water, and clean washrooms—an ideal spot for a picnic. A young family with two kids soon arrived and played on the beach, while a motorboat buzzed noisily in the background. Two kayakers paddled by, and we watched ducks swimming and fish leaping from the lake. We prepared chili con carne with rice and tomato, followed by dates, apples, and café lattes for dessert. The time spent there was worth it, even though we knew we wouldn’t make it to Kelowna that day.

With a thunderstorm warning and reports of road closures in Kelowna, we decided to get as close as possible and continued driving until we reached Lac La Hache. By then, it had started to rain, and darkness was setting in. We pulled into the next campground, the Big Country Campground & RV Park. It was past 8 p.m., but the entrance door had a red-lit “Open” sign. A friendly man in his forties greeted us. The complex had a reception area, grocery store, laundry, washrooms, and showers all in one building—the cleanest campground we had been to so far. To our surprise, it also had Wi-Fi, a sauna, and a pool, all included in the price. He even gave us a discount since we didn’t need an electric hookup.

As we were about to pay with our phone, he shared a story about his first experience using his smartwatch for payment a couple of years ago. He had gone to a nearby shop, confident that he could pay with his watch, but the people in the store looked at him as if he were an alien. He demonstrated to us how he proudly shook his arm and brought his watch close to the pin pad—only for it not to work, leaving him looking like a clown.

After registration, we parked at our campsite. It was dusk, and aside from the raindrops, occasional thunder, and flashes of lightning, it was quiet. We found ourselves looking through the windshield into a forest full of slender trees, feeling like we were in a movie. We opened a bottle of red wine, sat in the front seats, and admired the trees. It was in that moment, as we sipped our wine and reflected on our journey, that we decided to name our car. We christened it “Dempster” and celebrated the occasion with a toast.

Day 23: August 24th

Since we started three weeks ago, we had already traveled ten thousand kilometers, and the round trip would be almost ten thousand miles. In the first four days, we covered more than five thousand kilometers with our car. After that, we crawled through the Dempster and Top of the World highways. Driving on the Alaska Highway felt like sliding over smooth ice, while the last few days on Highway 37 and 16 made it feel like we were simply walking.

We woke up very early and enjoyed a hot shower at the campground. As we hit the road, heavy rain began to pour, making it feel as if we were swimming rather than driving.

Over the past few weeks of long drives, we learned a few key things necessary for a trip like this. While we made sure to maximize flexibility—no constraints on how long we drove each day, where we stayed, or what we ate or drank—there were still certain essentials we had to ensure. First, we needed to keep our car well-stocked with food and beverages. Second, the vast distances we covered in thirty days required a lot of driving. In hindsight, we wished we had more days for hiking, fishing, swimming, or simply relaxing. Third, our options for the return journey were limited. We could have retraced our route back from Yukon, but since we wanted a different path and wildfires were affecting Alberta, we decided to head down to Kelowna.

It was already noon when we entered Kelowna. We had taken the scenic route through Kamloops and Vernon, even though it was rainy and cloudy. We met a friend’s husband, who had recently moved to Kelowna, at a café on the outskirts of the city and then drove into the city to get a feel for it.

On our way, we spotted a branch of the financial institution that issued my credit card and decided to stop by, as my card had been declined for the past few days. The most senior staff member at the branch informed us that she didn’t have the necessary privileges to check the issue and advised us to call the customer service number instead. Nearby, we found an Indian restaurant and enjoyed some spicy chicken dishes with naan bread. On our way to downtown Kelowna, I called customer service. After providing several details and being put on hold, the agent eventually hung up on me after about fifteen minutes. Frustrated with the service from such a reputed bank, I called again and went through the same, along with additional questions. The agent explained that my card had been blocked after I swiped it in the US to pay $5, triggering the fraud detection system, which blocked my card without notifying me.

It was still raining when we reached downtown, and the traffic was a nightmare—a stark contrast to the Dempster Highway, where we could enjoy the drive despite the challenging road conditions and sparse services. We quickly left Kelowna and headed toward the US border. Unfortunately, we had lost several hours in Kelowna, and the nearest border at Midway had already closed at 5 p.m. So, we decided to continue along Highway 3 toward the next US border crossing. Our destination was Glacier National Park in Montana.

As we entered Grand Forks, dusk began to fall, and we had had enough of driving, though the last few hours had been pleasant, passing through beautiful hills and small towns. We stopped at an RV park in Grand Forks. Our campsite overlooked a river with a beach and offered a view of the hills. As we settled in, a young deer watched us for a moment before slowly walking away. We poured ourselves a glass of wine and watched a black bear climb up the hills in the distance.

We were wearing the t-shirts we got in Tuktoyaktuk from an event, which had the motif “Tuktoyaktuk 2024.” Another camper approached us and shared a story about how, forty years ago in Montreal, his foreman used to tell him to go to Tuktoyaktuk whenever he cursed him.