Rev. 9/14/01
Alaska & beyond - continued
9/11 - 9/14
Bella Coola
back to the US
Bella Coola is about as isolated as you can get in North America, 200 miles from anything -- icefields 200 miles to the north, icefields 200 miles to the south, 200 miles of fiord to the coast on the west, 300 miles of mountain road to the east and nearest town.
The man in the camp site next to me came over, "Do you have the radio on? You might like to." I turned it on and was shocked, in the same manner as all of you. Didn't feel like fishing -- not sure what to do. Did feel like getting to where I had good access to Internet, my link to the world. That meant Prince George, the only direct link in northern BC.
During the long drive from Bella Coola, the three hundred miles
to Williams Lake, and to the main and only north-south artery in BC, my thoughts
ran all over. I listened to Canadian radio until I lost reception,
going up "The Hill." The aspens were starting to change color, reminding
me that Fall was getting near.
Dropping
down into the Fraser River canyon was welcome, almost at Williams Lake and
at last I could get radio reception again.
Listening to Canadian radio's less emotional commentary than CNN, was welcome -- factual news, without histrionics. As I drove north to Prince George, I was able to pick up one station, until out of range, and then find another -- absorbing as much as I could of what had happen. Listening to the Canadian views on what effect this would all have on future events.
The next morning, after a restless night, I felt an overwhelming desire to be on US soil -- I was the only American in a sea of Canadians -- my emotions were raw. Thanked the RV camp manger for use of the phone line to get on Internet, told him I was heading south. He said he understood.
That
evening, 450 miles later, I crossed the border into the US at Sumas, Washington.
Took half and hour to get through Customs -- my voice broke when I
thanked the customs agent when he told me to proceed -- his face softened
and he patted the roof of the RT.
Spent
the night at an RV park north of Seattle. The next morning took care
of some things, and by accident, stumbled on a great view of the Space Needle
-- with a huge flag at half-mast on the top. The sky was clear, a sunny
day in Seattle.
Had lunch with Gordon and Gloria, my childhood friends. Their granddaughter Angela joined us.
Then headed toward Idaho.
Huge trucks, each pulling a three trailer "train" of load, 26 wheelers, were
a good reminder that commerce was alive and well in the US -- even though
they scare the heck out of me.
Haven't lived in Boise, Idaho for fifty years, but still have ties there.
My brother Frank and Jenny live there, had lunch and breakfast
with them.
Had dinner with my niece and her friend . She wanted to show me pictures she took in Scotland -- great trip.
Mom and dad are buried at Cloverdale there -- stopped by.
The view south up Capital Boulevard to the Railroad Station never changes, along with the opposite view north, leading to the State Capital. Boise was a small town of 20,000 when we grew up there -- ten times that size now.
My
ties to Boise seem to increase, rather than diminish with time. Now
there are a group of sports fishermen I'm involved with, centered there.
The initial connection was convoluted -- a man from Boise,
trying to teach me how to catch Oio, bonefish, on the flat behind
my home in Honolulu. His wife grew up in the Honolulu valley we lived in
for twenty years -- and one of my daughter-in-laws knew her there.
Went to Christmas Island, to fish for bonefish, with him and
his group from Boise last January. Now planning to go steelhead fishing
with him, and another Boise group, up in northern BC in a couple of weeks
-- really, a very small world.
What a great surprise, a letter from Hanspeter and Edith, my Swiss friends, the ones I met on the boat tour out of Valdez, July 25th. Attached to their e-mail was a digital photo -- that's what took the "eternity" to come in over the phone line. With my high speed cable connection at home, sending large pictures is nothing, I'd almost forgotten what a dial-up line was like.
They wanted to voice their concerns about the terrorist attacks
on the US.
They had been reminiscing about the boat tour, which had been a highlight of their own vacation. One of the pictures they took, was of me when we stopped for dinner at Growler Island. In the background is Columbia Glacier, and a whole fleet of icebergs it has calved.
Hanspeter and Edith - I want to thank you for your concern. For
all of us to live in pease, which we all want, terrorism everywhere
must be stopped. And thanks for the picture.