The Rockies, the Snow and accepting defeat!

Well here I am again, at last able to access a computer. Unfortunately this machine is armored like fort Knox so I am unable to get to the USB port to add photos. I shall do so at a later date.
So, From Hyder to now, as always it has been a varied few days and in fact great fun. In Hyder which was a small village just inside Alaska I made camp and really lucked out, as there was a tour group there who took pity on me so fed and watered me. I met a few interesting people who offered places to stay on my way down the US which was appreciated and I also got 'Hyderised' which meant the bar fed me some form of booze that will take the enamel off your teeth, and if you don't throw it back up (which I might add I didn't) then you get an official card saying that you are 'Hyderised'. Anyway the next day I left in good time to drive to Smithers, a town about 4 hours away with the hope that I would be able to stay with some people...
I arrived in Smithers after a nice trip in good weather. I couldn't get hold of my contact in town as the number was wrong so chose to drive to their address hoping all would be well. After waiting Kirsten arrived with the kids and after a mild look of surprise welcomed me to stay however long I liked. Don came back from work later and I stayed two days with the family and had a great time. Smithers turned out to be a really nice town and the hospitality I was shown was amazing. I met their friends at a party the next night and even helped (to an extent) to set up the festival that was happening the week after.
Due to meeting so many nice people I was able to stay with Scott and his family (who are friends with Don and Kirsten) at Prince George, which is a town around 4 hours East of Smithers. On the way there I rode through a terrible thunder storm with tonnes of rain and lightening. I was slightly apprehensive about the fork lightening as it was hitting very close to the road, during which I noticed a dead black bear by the side of the road, positioned suspiciously near an electrical pylon. My initial thought was that the unfortunate bear had been cocking its leg against the pylon when a rogue lightening strike sent him to his grave! On closer inspection I deduced that the Dunlop tyre print across said bear head suggested it had argued with a truck rather than mother nature. Anyhow, after a night with Scott and his family I left to head to Jasper and Banff in the Canadian rockies. The views were simply spectacular. The only unfortunate side of things was that I had hit RV country, and the traffic was crawling with the complete cross-section of the grey pound chugging up every road whilst stopping without warning at the sight of anything which may carry fleas, and offer some form of a photo opportunity.
Jasper was visually nice, but I hate to say it, mountains and lakes were starting to look the same, and in fact I felt the ones up North that were minus the tourists and 7000 tonnes of concrete laid everywhere had far more appeal to me than what was on offer here.
The road to Banff from Jasper (93) was simply amazing, the views were incredible (if you could see past the hundred or so RVs blocking the way) and the glaciers, rivers and waterfalls were most easy on the eye.
On taking the back road to Banff it was like being in some kind of Walt Disney production. The grass was greener than green, the flowers were blossoming and the mountain sheep were posing for photos. In fact I almost expected Yogi Bear to jump out and steal a picnic basket, however I think the RV in front of me had just run him over whilst looking at a sheep. When I pulled into Banff, it was what I expected, massively touristy and expensive. If it wasn't for meeting up with AJ and Kate (friends of a friend) then it would have been a might dull. After paying huge amounts of money for a crappy hostel full of guitar strumming arses I Promptly left the next day. On the day of leaving I did go and see some great lakes (including lake Louise from all the photos) which were amazing if not a tad spoiled by tourism. The rest of the day was taken up with driving South.
This brings us to last night. I slept in a hedge to try a recoup some of the money Banff clawed out of me. This was fine but again I had a bad nights sleep as I chose to camp off the road near a small rocky cliff. All night I kept hearing stones tumbling down the face of the cliff, but not knowing what was doing it. For fear of being eaten alive I armed myself with bear spray and an improvised flame thrower in the form of WD-40 and a lighter. (how A-team!) Lucky for me neither was required.
Finally we reach today, and OH MY GOD, what a day! I left my hedge and was fed and watered by a mad woman at a petrol (sorry, gas station) She even gave me a post card of her petrol pumps to take home with me, ahh I shall treasure that one! I left the petrol station and headed for a road I had been told to take which is a logging track (or pass) that goes over the mountain to a ferry. This was going to cut out a lot of time and give some great views. I found the track and asked how it was at the local garage, he told me the route was closed due to snow but I would be OK of that 'fancy two wheeled thingy' So off I went....
The track was called Gray Creek Pass (curse it!) It was awful, the worst road I have taken yet, and that is saying something after doing the Dalton from Deadhorse. The rocks were huge and everywhere, and the track was very thin, however, what is 50 miles I chuckled to myself. The first 30 miles was slow but the views were incredible. This was true wilderness with creeks I had to drive through and really old huge pine trees. I even saw a wolf which was amazing and really rare so I'm told. Anyway, as you can appreciate, as the pass was officially closed there was no traffic at all. Nothing. I carried on riding and after a while I came across a few junctions. After this I became really quite lost ( remembering how the petrol station man told me I couldn't get lost!) I rode down various tracks for a while, and finally, and after using my compass would you believe it, found my way. Then out of the blue appeared a Chinaman eating a large sandwich. I stopped to check I was going the right way with a smirk on my face, but lowe and behold he spoke no English at all (what was a Chinaman doing in the middle of nowhere you may ask, and I too asked myself this question, but he was clearly being fed and watered so I left him to it)
I carried up the hill for a few more miles and must have only been 20 Miles from the other side of the valley when I hit snow. This was bad.
The snow was in drifts so I could see solid ground on the other side of the drift. I rode into the first one and sank about 2 ft! I was totally stuck. It took me 45 mins to dig and ride myself out of that drift, but with British determination I rode on to the the next drift. This one I hit at speed to try and plough through it... Bad move. It was really deep and I ended up in the middle of the drift buried about 3 to 4 ft down. I was totally stuck.
Over the next 2 hours! Yes two bloody hours in a section of only 100 yards of snow I tried everything I could to free the bike, I was digging, swearing, spinning the wheel, and of course dropping the bike countless times. All this was to try and go back as there was no chance of moving forward. Its funny because as you become more desperate you start to imagine really stupid stuff, so there was me scratching my head trying to work out how to get the bike out thinking all the time that a mountain lion was about to eat me. This feeling was made all the worse as I thought I would never be able to shift the bike.  After much tugging and hauling and falling as well as unpacking the whole bike and removing the panniers I managed to reverse it out. It pains me to this minute that I did not get through that snow, and in fact I even tried to ride through the trees, but got stuck in mud. However I figure it takes a bit of courage to try these things, but more to accept defeat, and my god that snow defeated me in style. I was exhausted. On the way back though the first drift I had my first fall whilst moving, good practice I recon, and in fact I was going very slowly. It only made me feel even more humbled that you can be a mere 20 miles from your goal in a developed country but still be in the middle of nowhere, and really in the shit!
I rode all the way back down that logging path in a foul mood at being beaten, but all wasn't bad as I saw the Chinaman still on the road and he had managed to finish his sandwich, so I gave him a wave and rode on looking defeated.
Moral of today is heed the advise of the forestry service when they say a road is closed, and not the advice of a mad petrol pump attendant.
After completing another 125 mile ride to the ferry the longway round (excuse the punn) I passed the track that I should have come out of 5 hours earlier. Added mileage 123. Nice. I caught the ferry and rode to Nelson, which is where I am now, feeling much better and in fact this town seems really cool so I may stay here a few days.
Thanks again to everyone who has put me up in the last week, I had a great time, and dam those snowy mountain passes.
Wait for the few pics, ill stick them on when I find a computer that will let me.
Bye, Simon
p.s.... The photo of the bike in the snow was the easy bit I managed to get through! The hard bit after that was not captured on camera as photos were the last thing on my mind at that stage, just try to imagine another 2 ft of snow added to that pic!