Roads south of Prince George from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Ken contemplates the roads south of Prince George, heading for Vancouver
Roads south of Prince George from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Ken contemplates the roads south of Prince George, heading for Vancouver
Disappointment Cape. Tinned Fog. Theo and Caroline, my hosts in Prince George, had let me flick through their beautifully illustrated scrapbook of their ride south from Vancouver Island to San Francisco. I’d guessed Theo was the artist, judging from the paintings adoring the walls of their home.
Their efforts at the end to photograph the Golden Gate Bridge free of fog had been thwarted. Instead an image of Tinned Fog. There were ample campgrounds along the coast south of Seattle. The scenery inspiring. As was their pace. A mere sixteen days to cover over a thousand miles.
I felt enthused. South from Seattle, as close to Theo and Caroline’s start as not to matter, down to San Francisco, would be the next stage of my North American journey. And I was already looking forward to it.
Beyond Vanderhoof sixty miles east to Prince George and the highway south towards Vancouver. My map suggested nothing along the road but, twenty or so miles on, Brookside Resort. Small gas station, hot showers, campground, laundromat and convenience store. Dusty.
A little further on the First Nations Bednesti Lake Resort. Saik’uz First Nation Cultural and Exchange Centre. Closed. Fairly recently I thought. Now up for sale. Disappointing, not least because it looked to have potential. Instead, it appeared to be yet another failed indigenous business.
I was struggling to understand why. Trying to reconcile the individual charm and friendliness of the First Nations – indigenous or aboriginal – people I’d met with increasingly apparent societal issues. Drugs. Foetal Alcohol Syndrome. Failed businesses where I thought others might have succeeded.