We casually meandered the ninety or so miles from Summit Lake to Fort Nelson, with more northern-Rockies scenery to enjoy. A few miles from camp, just below the roadway, a cow moose was grazing the grass and algae in a parallel stream. She’d stick her long muzzle under and gather up a mouthful or two, then come up to breathe and chew. Beautiful.

As we descended out of the mountains, the more easily-inhabited plains area started to smooth and straighten the road. In one stretch, we got to see what all that annoying construction was about – – a brand new road. It was so smooth we hardly knew we were driving. Didn’t even have paint on it yet.

We arrived in the Fort Nelson area and plunked down in a nearly empty campground at the edge of town. Full, it would be side-to-side parking, but empty it felt like some of the regional parks we’ve been in. But we weren’t in Fort Nelson for scenery, just “chores”. Laundry, gas, groceries, fresh water, minor fix-it stuff. The non-exotic part of traveling around in an RV.

Just next door to camp was (yawn) another museum. Oh, but this one was truly a bit different. In the dictionary, next to the word “eclectic”, there could be a picture of this place. Name something old or antique – – anything you can think of. Name 100 more. They are all there, and their brothers, sisters, similes and antonyms. What an intriguing collection. Fun to wander around and look at the diversity of things, from an industrial engine the size of a barn, to PBX machines from a lost era, to this old 1908 Ford that drove round-trip to Watson Lake on its 100th birthday.

Massive power-plant crankshaft, with a cracked journal. Now THAT’S a broken crank.

Early differential axle with external axles and brakes.

Collection of Australian license plates.

Early PBX equipment (this is how telephone connections originally worked).

Two-man chain saw (one guy grabs the yellow handle).

A complete curling kit. I had to show the photo or you’d think I made it up.

VERY early snowmobile.

Wooden water pipes.

Cooper-Bessemer industrial engine, house-sized version. Its fly-wheel is lying flat on the ground near the staircase; it weighs 10,000 pounds.

One of the earliest Fort Nelson post offices.

Some of the exhibits didn’t appear to be entirely serious. But then, maybe so?

There’s more, believe me. It’s easy to spend a half-day or more there.

One of the great beauties of traveling slowly and extemporaneously is the ability to seize on opportunities of the moment. Without a schedule, it’s blissfully impossible to be late. If you aren’t going to be late, then it’s just fine to linger. The relaxation factor of this mind-set is extraordinary, and must be experienced to be truly appreciated.

Thus it was, one afternoon, when we stopped in a Fort Nelson store to see if we could get some magnesium supplements (I was running low). The store was Down To Earth health shop, and we simply chanced into what would become an hour-long conversation with Kym, who owns the business with Kevin, her husband.

The situation was definitely incongruous – we were in the far northwest corner of British Columbia, camped for a couple of nights in a small town of 3,000 or so. Nobody could have any expectation of alternative-medical sophistication in this tiny hamlet literally at the edge of civilization. And yet we were having an extensive chat with a woman who was as knowledgeable and educated on medicine, health, wellness, supplements, etc. as any one we might meet in a city of any size (home locale included). And the lovely part of it is that we didn’t have to rush off and be anywhere else. It was a charming experience, and BTW some of the best carrot-cake I’ve ever eaten (gluten-free too!). If you are ever in Fort Nelson, stop by the shop on 51st Ave West and enjoy a healthy snack – and maybe even a pleasant chat as well.

In general, meeting people, having a chance to talk with them, learning about the area, their lives, where they came from and are going to – this is a great joy of traveling. Having time to indulge it ensures that the joy is fully embraced.

Leaving Fort Nelson, the weather and the road were entirely different from the past many weeks. Long, straight, flat, sunny, warm, calm. In this region, the weather has been head-butted by the Rocky Mountains. The moisture coming from the North Pacific has been sabotaged, confiscated by the high peaks. The dry cool air moves eastward, and warms as it sinks down to the lower plains elevations. We had migrated to a different planet.

Further south, we turned towards the distant Rockies, but we didn’t go into them.

We passed up a chance at a nice tame RV Park on the Alcan, next to the Sikanni River. Something mysterious urge drew us onward, to an obscure little Rec Area place. It was way off the highway, and we would have to trek five miles or so down an un-marked, un-mapped dirt/gravel road. But we just wanted to check it out.

When we arrived, there was nobody to greet us. This Sunday of Labor Day weekend (Canada too), we had the place to ourselves. It was so roomy, we didn’t even have to un-hook Ralph.

There was some light snow on the ground, left over from the rains a few days ago. Karin started to make a snowball, but I just took her picture and ran away.

The lake is 100 yards from our camp/parking spot. We felt so privileged, we just had to call some friends who were camping in a crowded California Labor Day RV park, and brag about our good fortune. We sent them this pic too, just to rub it in 

[For anyone traveling this way, it’s called Duhu Lake Recreation Area, right around km marker 246 or so. It is only mentioned in the Milepost, and is not even on BC’s camping list or any other guide that we have.]

A couple of miles away, there’s some gas pipeline construction on-going. We can only guess that is why we actually have some cell phone coverage in addition to our other joys of the day.

We barbequed up some chicken and had a fine quiet dinner. It’s getting dark now at night, sunset is around 8PM this September time of year.

The wild woods surround us, and Howie keeps us warm, comfortable, and safe. Life is good.