May Long Roadtrip: Over Already (1 Viewer)

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So, as I forgot my Ipod and my BJ73 lacks anything at all that resembles a stereo or even a radio, I decided to document this trip between Fort St John, in Northeast British Columbia to my home town of Red Deer, Alberta. Usually this drive takes ~8.5 hours or so, however, today it only took 2 hours. Unbelievable, yes, I know.

Anyway, I awoke at 430am from a bleeding nose to see that my recently mowed lawn was covered with around five or so inches of fluffy white stuff known as snow. It's only May, so not a complete surprise in any way.

I went to work to finish up a few things, came home and loaded up the Prado-meister and was soon on my way.

Here is the FSJ city limits. Such a lovely place.
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About twenty minutes down the Alaska Highway I arrived in the bustling metropolis of Taylor, B.C. - home of a large stinky gas refinery atop the N bank of the mighty Peace River. Prado checks out the refinery as we pass by:
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We crossed the Peace River bridge with ease. Unfortunately due to the weather and the fact that Mr. G's (BJ73) tires decided to do a bit of a tap dance across the metal bridge, the picture isn't one of the nicest taken of the river. Alas, you shall see a bit of what it looks like at least.
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The next significant hydrological feature that we encountered was the Kiskatinaw River located approximately twenty minutes or so further along the Alaska Highway. This is my secret hiding spot where you can find Orange, Prado and I in the warm summer evenings. It's a fair trek down to the water's edge but it's really nice and quiet despite the highway traffic on the bridge high overhead.

Oh, look, yet another one of those wanna be's....
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Next bustling community along the highway is Dawson Creek. This picture shows the real Mile 0 of the Alaska Highway. I almost got side swiped by a car in this 'roundabout.' Quite the beautiful place, isn't it? :cheers:
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Well, that's the end of the trip. Short and sweet. Just after leaving Dawson Creek, passing Pouce Coupe and almost to where the March photo of the infamous RoadKill Calendar was taken, a mean and nasty semi trailer truck passed by and hurled a gigantic rock into the air. Mr. G dodged and dived about in a heroic effort to avoid the rock, but alas, it launched itself into the passenger side of the windshield and instantly, the roadtrip came to a shattering end. We turned around and headed back to FSJohn. Thankfully, not a single police car or road safety nazi passed by.

Back in FSJohn now... contemplating what to do with the remainder of the weekend. Maybe I'll go make a snowman.

;)
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What! a little crack like that stopped you from driving home? Shouldn't you just stick your head out the window and carry on? Or kick out the windsheild and drive away?
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Well, of course I would've kicked out the windshield and kept going. However, I didn't want to have to listen to Prado whine about getting her hair all mussed up for another 6 hours. Besides, she forgot her Doggles and said the wind would wreak havoc with her eyelashes. Blame it on the dog.
 
sounds like the beginning of a Steven King novel.
Was that in your new 74? Maybe you should call it "cerebros del lobo"!
 

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