The Hecate Strait Witch got her revenge last night.
Although we were optimistic about boarding on time in Skidegate, the first clue was the announcement that access to the car deck would be restricted to a one-time visit early in the trip. The unspoken message was: grab what you need, then settle in for a rockin’ good time.
I was glad we had reserved a stateroom, even though the only one left had four bunks. That meant I had to sit like a hunched-over pretzel to avoid knocking myself senseless during a nocturnal visit to the loo. I shouldn’t have worried.
Sleep? What sleep?
The ship rolled, groaned, chattered, complained, and occasionally let off gunshot-like bangs. In the bunk opposite me, Dave snored blissfully and later commented, “It was like being rocked to sleep.”
I, on the other hand, felt as though I was in a cement mixer, my feet braced against the wall to keep me from launching through the porthole, while my Hail Marys were clearly audible to all.
Eventually, I managed to drift off. Maybe six minutes later, the stateroom lights abruptly snapped on and the robotic BC Ferries voice announced that it was time to get up and start the day.
Awesome.
It was 4:30 a.m.
Happy to report, however, that unloading was relatively speedy, and by 5:00 a.m. we were heading east on Highway 16 through a landscape draped in mist that gradually gave way to brilliant sunshine.
Somewhere just west of Smithers, we came upon a beautiful viewpoint and pulled over to capture the glorious valley above, framed by its surrounding mountains. It was too early to check into our lodging, so we meandered through this charming little town, stopped for a refreshment, and eventually arrived at our beautiful retreat at the base of Hudson Bay Mountain in the Bulkley Valley.
Feet up, World Cup on, and cheering Canada on against Qatar. 3-0 so far.
