I said my goodbyes to Hans and Tina who run the Smithers Guest House. Hans wanted to know where I was going, I think he was sad to see me go, maybe not.

Maybe he was relieved.

On the highway in the rain, a disorientated bird, about the size of a thrush twirls and spirals head on into my windscreen. I look in my mirror and it had already fallen to the ground, I continue, mouthing, oh no… It did not sow me down.

I do not fill up with petrol at Quesnel. I nearly came a cropper: the tank only holds 135 miles-worth, I had used 73. Thinking there would be another place to get some more in the next few miles, I continued but it was 80 miles more to Williams Lake. I try freewheeling downhill to save fuel By sheer luck, at about the 12 mile mark I roll into a campsite with a petrol station attached. I dismount and over near the shop – a black guy, grey beard wearing a cowboy hat is playing some pan pipes! I salute him nonchalantly, fully aware that he was an angel who had magically created this garage for me to fill up. At least, that was how it seemed to me. I paid for the gas and he and his silver VW had disappeared. Moral, stick to the rule up here and buy petrol regardless of what is in the tank.

On past Williams Lake where there were too many petrol stations to count.

I wore my wet weather gear all day, wellies and over jacket – pretty effective none the less. 200 miles were in light rain, after Prince George. 18 wheelers continues to chase me as I slowed to allow for the wet conditions, they just seemed to drive even faster, leaving a swirling wake of rainwater as they screamed past. Up onto 7 then the 99. The 99 has hardly any cars on it and as the sun sets, a blue luminous glow persists to bell past 10PM mist hangs in bacon shaped strips across the highway and I sweep them away and they reply with drops of water on my glasses. Darker now, on I go the engines whine like a jet as I flick from main beam to dip and back again, not slowing down until I dismount, exhausted.

I have retraced the route back to where I set off – rather than drive to Jasper, I am going to attend a Buddhist retreat located in the forest south-east the border at Westbridge above Rock Creek. After that, I will have to go pretty much non-stop to New York. The group in the forest are having a special event and their main teacher will be presiding. It sounds very basic – I will use my tent. I only hope it stays dry.