The Simpsons...

"Ta-ta-ta-ra-ta, ta-ra-ta-ta-ta..."

What else would you think of if you were cycling between Smithers and Burns Lake but the Simpsons? Plus I had to keep my humour up since it was a miserable day weatherwise with countless trucks spraying dirty road water at my face. Eeexxxellent.

The early morning pitter-patter of rain on the metal roof set my expectations for what the day was going to be like. It was hard to leave the cozy cabin and push off into the drizzle, so I sort of lollygagged until I could no longer find any reasons not to go.

Had to say goodbye to John's welcoming sign

The only food I had with me were two nectarines, some nuts and granola bars, so I ate them for breakfast. Unless I backtracked several kilometres, the next town with food is Houston, some 40 km away, and on route is a good long climb, appropriately called Hungry Hill. My meagre breakfast was definitely not adequate to tackle the climb, and I arrived at a restaurant totally famished. I devoured a pork chop and mashed potato dinner with three cups of coffee, and could have gone for their homemade pie (but probably would have needed a nap after). That hit the spot, I had enough energy for the other climbs that followed.

What moose? I'm trying to gauge how steep that hill is

I guess if they suggest trucks chain up, it's not a climb to laugh at

Now I'm hungry.

I've been to China, where I learned the meaning of this character: "place for take-out food without roof"

I wonder if I have relatives in this Houston?

The sun did come out for a few minutes at a time, but it was not worth removing my rain jacket only to put it on soon after, so I roasted and chilled alternately. And, oh joy, I got my first flat tire — it never fails, these things always happen on a rainy day.

Somewhere above the clouds is a valley so appealing beyond your imagination

and this giant fishing rod is how they catch magic salmon from that fantastic valley-in-the-sky 

I caught up with a couple cycling and I tried to make conversation, but they were going slower, fully loaded to the gills, and there were too many trucks to cycle alongside them. I think they were from Eastern Europe from their accent. I passed them but pulled off on a rest area ahead thinking they would stop and chat for a bit but they just kept on. Well. I used the rest stop toilet and passed them soon after, so I just waved and said "Maybe I'll see you down the road."

It got progressively darker, wet, cold and miserable, and the hills were wearing my legs out by the time I arrived at Burns Lake. Still better than working in a sweatshop!

"....Ta-ta-ta-tara, ta!" 

Actually the sky opened up, my bike transformed into a unicorn, and I rode up this rainbow: