I finally got on the road earlier than 8:30. It was 8:04 I need to run a little harder to make up for the construction and lost time from when I stop to take photos, which I cannot help doing. As I ride down the road, wearing the usual snowpants riding gear, I'm thinking about how late I was up (1 a.m.) blogging and putting photos out there. Maybe that's not the concept of a blog, and I'm writing way too much, more detail than anyone wants to know. But then, hey, it's my blog. It's a diary, a trip report of my travels, and there are lots of things that I see, feel, do, so the mission of this blog is to share. But it is different in that in a diary you could talk trash about people because it was secret. On a blog not so much, or shouldn't since the whole world can see it. There should be some tact and taste to it. So there you have it, blogs according to the queen.

I have not taken enough flower photos.

Cloudy again, low-hanging and looking like rain … yet again. Jaz has had good weather. Hope she shares when we meet up tomorrow, cuz I'm tired of this. I can ride in crappy weather, with gray days, clouds and cold any day of the week at home. Guess it's still better than working, of course!!

So I'm riding down the road, feeling a bit depressed, listening to one of the CDs Jaz made for me. Then on comes Mike McDonald with the Alaska Flag song. How could anyone be depressed with that? My state song; so I joined him in a rousing rendition. Mike was one of the best, with a voice that was so large it would give you chills. I believe it could have filled the Grand Canyon. No one will ever do that song again as well, in my opinion. I immediately felt great and rode on down the highway.

On I went, happy and now listening to Bob Dylan, an unventful day. Then Mother Nature decided to make a statement. A drizzle started, then I saw a flash of lightning just to my right and immediately heard the crack of the thunder. The F-bomb escaped my lips at the top of my lungs. I knew I was going to get hit. And I rode faster, only to have the skies cut loose throwing down rain in sheets. It hit my windshield in waves, and blew back up. I couldn't see, and then the hail started. I held one hand on the throttle, the other to shield my eyes. It was impossible to see, but I kept going, and saw three bikers pulled over to the other side of the road. I continued on … bulling my way through the water running like a river down the road. Miss Scarlet handled admirably well. I have no complaints about her at all. She was like a tank in a mud bog, slogging through it all, and coming out the other end in all her glory, even dirtier than before if that's possible. I thought as heavy as the rain was that it would clean some of the grime off. It did not. But it made my mascara disappear, and my eyelashes no longer had any curl. That's riding naked, in my mind.

Every time I think I'll wash Miss Scarlet up for the next day,
we hit rain.Maybe when we get the new tire and 10-k
we'll just let the shops take care of a wash.

So what's worse than having to ride in the rain, not being able to see in the rain? Sitting in a puddle of water in your seat, knowing your snowpants don't really keep you dry. Is there possibly any pants that do? My jacket keeps me dry; my boots keep me dry; my gloves keep me dry. WHY NOT PANTS?

I took a well-deserved 20-minute break near Fort St. John and ate another granola bar. At the rate I'm going they aren't going to last a week.

Headed to Chetwynd. Rode through the Peace River Valley. Beautiful country. Lots of farmland and farm animals, including llamas.

The Peace River ...

Peace River Valley, a beautiful place.

Chetwynd is logging country. Lots of trucks with logs, log remnants on the road. In Chetwynd itself there are wood carvings all over.

The carved bears were the first ones I really noticed
of all the carvings.

They are very intricate and the photos I took cannot begin to do them justice.

There was a whole row of carvings along the street and
I stopped to photograph a bunch of them. 
This doesn't do justice to the carving.

That's one huge squid ... and a lot of work to
get the tentacles just right.  I think I was most
impressed with this one, except they were all
exceptional in their own way.

I had to take some close up photos to showsome
of the detail on these carvings.  It's incredible.

This was one of my favorites.  The lines of the hair, the legs, the
clothing, the wood are all so strong, and tell such a story.  The
artists who have created these carvings are exceptionally talented.

This photo is not of the entire carving.  It did not do it justice as I needed flash. 
I know this is a RCMP but it reminds me of the movie "Night at the Museum"
 with Robin Williams playing Teddy Roosevelt.

This is another I did a close-up of, and another favorite. 
Really do love lots of the Southwestern-style art.

Would have liked to spend more time to look at them and others in more detail, even to spend the night, but I'm burning daylight and gotta ride. I'd like to get to Prince George at least, in an effort to make tomorrow a shorter riding day so I meet up with Jaz at a reasonable hour. It's probably a good thing to meet up with her. My diet of granola bars, nuts and apples with peanut butter is getting a little old. I forget to stop for food, or don't want to take the time. And that's how I get miles done … ride, stop for gas, pit stop, snack. Repeat more than once.

Didn't see anything that called to me in Prince George and decided to go on to Williams Lake, although Quesnel looked pretty cute when I came through. But I had already decided I wanted to push on. Plus the weather got spectacular and I didn't want to quite riding. If I'd eaten lunch or some real food, I'd probably have pushed on to Cache Creek, about another 120 miles from Williams Lake. But I was running on empty, and needed to stop.

Not much game today. Saw an eagle and three deer. One of the deer was on the other side of the concrete divider that keeps the traffic in its own lane, and not going over the side of the hill, near Williams Lake. She was on my side, and I saw her a ways away. I knew what she was thinking. She wanted to go over the divider and cross the road. She put one of her hooves on the divider, then down, then looked around, put it up again, and I got close and yelled at her. She stayed on her own side, and I happily went about my business. I don't want to hit any animal (except maybe a snake but not even that though I hate them). I'm just too tender-hearted when it comes to the brown-eyed critters. When I see one of them dead in the road, I say a little prayer and ask God to take them up to him, make them safe and well, and keep them with him forever and ever. Amen.

And by the way, the goats yesterday are really sheep, according to Biker Bill. I always get them mixed up if they don't have the big horns.

So the grand total for today is 667 miles, and I'm all in.