Oh Perpetual Saturdays, we appreciate and love you all. Perhaps the boys and I will need to make a sacrifice to the PS God to develop continuation, ay? Think of it like traveling in the NBA. It goes on forever.

So yesterSat, we left a very dreary and drizzly Quesnel and the Billy Barker Casino Hotel (whoa!) to ride through Prince George, leave Ol’ 97 and start to make our way west toward the southernmost beginning of the legendary Cassiar Highway.

I should note that the Billy Barker was clean, nice and had a good breakfast. It is a remodeled throwback hotel, but the casino and some of its patrons were, well, interesting. There was the kindly and VERY big security guy who pledged to watch our bikes, the many-teeth-shy early afternoon patrons, and the Blackjack dealer who simply could not add. It seemed a bit like time travel — a parallel universe of some sort. Thankfully, we had Highlander with us for breakfast, and he was never scared, so we just enjoyed breakfast and took off. Into rain and cold.

We planned to and have stopped in Smithers, a lovely town in the Bulkley Valley. If you want a cabin where there is lots of water, beauty and nice people, you now have our recommendation – Smithers, BC. It was a magical end to a long, wet drive into the teeth of a moderate set of storms – so no GoPro. And I do mean wet. However, the biggest damper was not the rain, but a rather ominous, large, angry sign seen in an otherwise pristine valley. It said “Prepare to Meet Your God” in black and white. We all thought, “no thank you, no way, too much colour here” (yep, I’m nourth of the bourder) “not YET, not NOW, not on this or any other Saturday, for You-Know-Who’s sake!”

Made me think of the Rolling Stones’ “Far Away Eyes:”

“The preacher said,                                                                                                               you know you always have the Lord by your side,                                                         And I was so pleased to be informed of this,                                                                   that I ran twenty red-lights in his name.”

We arrived at the incredible Logpole Lodge. Run, do not walk, to make your reservations here. Up a gravel road about 5 clicks out of town, we climbed to this incredible property. We were met by Barbara of Barbara and Chris, the owners, formerly from Switzerland. Even though facing a large private party last night (PSaturday,) Barbara made us feel so at home, gave us a tour and offered us a cold beer. She SO had us at “cold.”

Barbara called us a taxi and we met Richard, of dark humor, radio voice, big personality, a gift of gab and the blueprint for a great Smithers night. Here are Charlie and Doug, at Boston Pizza, a Canadian chain where my friends know the menu by heart. NHL Stanley Cup hockey, good food, big crowd and more cold beer had us rooting for free, overtime hockey. Alas it was Blackhawks 2-1 in regulation.

There were more bars, more drinks and more Richard, and all was right with the world. We teared up often, but only from the laughter. “Oh, NO, not another HAT!” Mike Gill, we thank you! We think.

It was SO great, and the area SO beautiful, and we know we have some extra time to get to Fairbanks, we called an audible right at the bar. We called Barbara who gave us welcome permission and then pushed back all future stops one night. We still have two nights to burn if we want, both Saturdays to my recollection, and are now enjoying a beautiful real day off (there is little sun, so yet another way to avoid Sunday, so let’s, YES, call it SATURDAY again,) in Smithers, British Columbia.

And here she is.Beautiful Smithers. Again, she had us at “cold.”

And on my ride-around today, there was a train. Here.

Hearing Todd Snider’s “Play a Train Song” in my head. Hope you are, too.