It was 2008 and I was headed east across British Columbia. Rain throughout the day had been sporadic but after over two weeks on the road in Northwest North America, rain was almost a friendly companion. Weather from Alberta to British Columbia to the Yukon and Alaska is always a bit unpredictable. And, in early June it had ranged from warm to well below freezing with precipitation in all forms.
I was on the Yellowhead Highway or CA16. Traffic in Prince George was tolerable, but more significant than much of the trip had been. As I approached and left the city proper, I saw a sign that said something to the effect of: No Petrol for 200 km. I quickly calculated how long I had gone since getting fuel and what that distance might mean in the miles I am more familiar with and knew I was fine for that distance with an acceptable safety margin. There are three possible reasons I was wrong:
- I am bad at math (I work as a scientist where math, including rapids approximation is needed daily so I don't think this is true but it is possible). Since much of the trip was in Canada, including the Alaska Highway, I should have been pretty good at knowing when I needed fuel - early and often.
- Having just passed a number of slower moving vehicles, I wasn't anxious to get behind them again on a long stretch of wet road.
- I wanted a little adventure added to my day.
The weather improved and cool temperatures warmed slightly. The scenery was wonderful as it had been for virtually all of the trip. At some point, while doing the normal monitoring of gauges, I looked at the odometer and fuel gauge and got the distinct feeling something wasn't right. Luckily, time on roads like the Yellowhead allow for thinking and I calculated things would be closer than originally thought. Shortly thereafter, I calculated again and saw that there was very likely no way I was going to make it to the next known fuel location.
I had a few options. The smart thing would have been to backtrack to Prince George. I hate losing time and my arrogance wouldn't let me do that. I could proceed and hope my math was right the first time (it wasn't). Or, I could slow down and conserve fuel by running at around 50 mph. Previous experimentation had told me this was near the most economical way to run a Goldwing.
I also don't always do slow well, but it was the option I went with. I had only gone a few more miles, when around a curve, I saw a resort-type building under some form of construction with a large red sign proclaiming: WE NOW HAVE PETROL. I don't know how I happen to have fallen into this, but there was a prayer of thanks. The "NOW" is burned into my brain as it implies only recently they had not.
Lake Purden is a remote area in North Central British Columbia. It was not the most remote place on the trip, but close. There is no electrical in the area. There is no copper land line into the area. There were very few facilities. What was odd, was that while the resort was obviously under construction, the gas pumps looked ancient. I wasn't going to argue with the discrepancy.
Approaching the the gas pumps in the muddy gravel parking area, each pump had a huge "divot" a few feet across and at least a foot deep making "parking" impractical at best. My SO jumped off the bike and went into the resort since the pumps had signs saying to get help at the cafe. Several minutes later, she returned with a very cute young girl, the pumps were turned on, which was apparently an exercise in itself with success not assumed.
Being in a remote area (with only generator electricity, etc.), I expected the fuel to be expensive and it was. The stated cost was CA$2.00/liter. This equates to approximately US$7.60/gallon. 2008 was an expensive year for fuel, but even the high average in remote areas was $4.00/gallon. Gas sales were rare at the resort, but I would have happily paid twice that much. It was, however, the only gas stop of the trip where I did not fill the tank.
After handing over the ransom, we headed out again through the treacherous parking area and while pulling through another trough in the gavel, an enormous rock reoriented itself and whacked into the belly pan I had installed on the GL1800 prior to heading into the North Country. The location and size of the dent that rock left in the belly pan told the story that without it, the coolant reservoir would have been destroyed, and remotely possible the lower engine case as well. Save number 2 in a very short amount of time.
McBride came soon enough down the road which was the stop for the night. As a slightly more traveled location, there were several hotels and restaurants...and ample fuel.
The bike may have made the distance by slowing down and it was a lesson to fill gas when the opportunity presents itself. The peace of mind that the fuel from Lake Purden brought was definitely worth it. In fact, at two loonies per liter, it was a bargain.
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