A bear popper is a bear deterrent noise maker. Being fifty gravel road kilometres south of Tumbler Ridge in Monkman Provincial Park in northern British Columbia, I think being in bear country is a good conclusion. Starting this three thousand kilometre British Columbia art trip from Surrey, north to Muncho Lake Provincial Park and back, in hindsight, although well prepared and experienced I really did not know what was in store especially since I was riding solo.

The initial stroll through the isolated and desolate campground of Monkman Park, fifteen days into my trip, to look for firewood requires me to not only carry bear spray but also the twenty-two calibre pen shaped popper, my only company. The getting-ready fumbling is accompanied by quick three hundred and sixty degree glances at the surrounding forest looking for grizzlies. With cocked bear popper strategically stowed in my jean jacket breast pocket and bear spray permanently belted at my hip, I take a deep breath and my first step out of campsite number one. Then, I realize where I am.

The thirteen hundred and seventy five kilometre one way trip to

the Northern Rockies started on September fourth twenty twelve, with my arrival in Muncho Lake Provincial Park on the tenth. But my first piece of art was at the end of the first day of travel.

Lac La Hache Provincial Park is a leisurely scenic six hour drive north from Surrey through the Fraser Canyon and into the Cariboo region of B.C. The park is halved by Highway 97. On the west shoulder of the highway, along the eastern shore of Lac La Hache is the day use area and to the east, in an old growth Douglas-fir forest, lies the campground. The late summer date and many available campsites gave me ample choice for tenting. After my first night setup in campsite number ten I pulled out my sketchbook and captured one of the well textured trunks. (Plate 1).

Plate 1. Lac La Hache 9” x12” conte Sept 4/12

The intent of this camping art trip was to first-time experience the Peace region (the land mass that is drained by the Peace River) of British Columbia while recording it on canvas. I found my Peace region, at trip’s end, included not only the northeast corner of B.C. but also the northern Rockies west of Fort Nelson.

The plein air art process per scene was to be a three step one; a conte sketch, a watercolour representation and finally a palette-knifed acrylic painting. This process turned out to be more of a guideline. Lac La Hache was a conte sketch.

The first acrylic painting happened seventy kilometres north of Prince George. The second day of travel found me beside Bear Lake in Crooked River Provincial Park in campsite number forty nine. It was postcard worthy. I used the word “spectacular” to the few people that I befriended over the two day stay. Travelling from the campground at Lac La Hache to the one at Bear Lake included an interesting road incident.

North of Quesnel, the landscape flattens as it heads to Prince George, the geographic centre of B.C. That day the straight stretch of Highway 97 had a west to east cross wind that buffeted my Four Runner. Little did I realize that the logging trucks working the north would add to the fun. It is a unique vehicle. Not only do the trucks’ grills look ten feet high but their loads are top heavy. With the logs stacked fifty percent higher and a back end loaded pup, this monster produced a bow wave of air that was incredible. So incredible, that while my Toyota and the logging trucks were playing chicken, at one hundred kilometres per hour, the log carrier’s front end air turbulence along with the cross wind opened my car top carrier. Wide eyed and filled with adrenaline I looked out the rear view mirror only

to see a fluorescent orange tarp drifting back down the highway. With twelve foot ditches, no road shoulder and a one hundred kilometre speed limit, the retracing of my route proved fruitless. Reinforcing the carrier with a bungee cord proved a good solution for the remainder of the trip. But what I did not realize was the extent of my losses. It turned out that, along with the tarp, a camping chair, a sleeping bag and a single rubber boot were lost… really?!

Because the extent of the loss was not noticed until the “coldest night camping ever!” happened in the wilderness of Crooked River, I did not restock until Fort St. John. Waking the third morning, not knowing whether I was warm or cold, I decided that the view warranted another day’s stay. The time would certainly allow painting.

Despite facilitating camping duties and ad hoc social meetings, the daylight did allow the first painting to finish. The campsite scene had me depicting Weeping Aspens… birch-like trees, along with a backdrop of Bear Lake and a never ending sky. A view that was reminiscent of one of the last campsites on the Bowron Lake Canoe Circuit, which not surprisingly, is just southeast from

here, outside the city of Quesnel. Crooked River lies within the Fraser Basin, an irregularly shaped basin of gently rolling hills that had been shaped for thousands of years by glaciers which ultimately deposited glacial drift and water. The tall aspens and spruce allowed me to use one of the tall canvas’ that my daughter Ashley gave me for Christmas… thanks darlin’. By six pm the conte (Plate 2), the watercolour (Plate 2a) and the acrylic (Plate 2b) were done… a very cool day in a very spectacular place.

Plate 2. Bear Lake 9” x 12” conte Sept 5/12

Plate2a. Bear Lake 12’’ x 18’’ watercolour Sept 5/12

Plate 2b. Bear Lake 19.5” x 39” acrylic Sept 5/12

It was made even more satisfying when I had the opportunity to share the art work with the park ranger, a passing fellow camper Mark with his dog Nikki, a camping Inuvik family

travelling home and a young Edmonton couple strolling the shore.

Before leaving Bear Lake I was made aware and took advantage of a very welcoming opportunity. The curators of Crooked River Provincial Park, in their wisdom, when replacing outhouses with flush toilet washrooms, also added at the rear of the new building, pay showers. Being chilled and campsite dusty, my two loonies gave me two short, very welcomed lukewarm showers on the fourth morning before heading to Charlie Lake Provincial Park.

Travelling from Bear Lake northeast to Charlie Lake took me through Pine Pass, the most northerly route over the Rocky Mountains. The route continued through Chetwynd, forked north to Hudson’s Hope, home of the Bennett Dam and east through the Peace Canyon to the Charlie Lake Provincial Park nestled on the Alaska Highway. It was a quick set up in site twenty four, since a restock of supplies needed my leave. Fort St. John being only eleven kilometres south made it convenient.

Visitor Information in Hudson’s Hope suggested the Outdoor Store, a local outlet in Fort St. John to replace my lost camping

goods. This super store for the hunter proved to be an experience with two of its four walls lined with rifles and the floor blanketed with camouflaged wear. After two trips to the store I finally found a fleece lined rectangular sleeping bag that proved absolutely invaluable. My buy was delayed at the till by a hunter filling forms to allow him to kill a White-tailed deer. A unique culture Fort St. John. One of camouflaged men, steroid suvs and pick-ups, lots of well-paying jobs and a whole bunch of friendly people.

My race to Muncho Lake had as much to do with the park closing on September fifteen as my want to experience it. This focus did not leave me time to paint the cool stand of Aspens at the back of my Charlie Lake campsite. The birch-like white trunks popped against the green black foliage background. Now on the Alaska Highway, my next stop, half way between Fort St. John and Fort Nelson, was Buckinghorse River Provincial Park.

This park’s campsites lined the river. Not a lot of distinction between each site so I parked in front of two. My nightly bike ride took me to the restaurant that serves a nearby company work camp trailer park. This

short bike ride ultimately defined my sleeping accommodations for the remainder of the trip. Two female locals working in the eatery strung a yarn about a cross breed bear (half Grizzly and half Black) wandering the campground. Later that night after two sleepless hours in my tent, I emptied the passenger seat of the truck and awkwardly slept the rest of the night. The decision was to use the three man tent as dry good and art storage, the passenger seat as food storage and the bed of the truck my bed. It did prove easier on the brain. Before I embarked on the final stretch to Muncho, I decided to hotel rest one night in Fort Nelson.

Fort Nelson has the Alaska Highway cutting through the town’s centre with a service road paralleling each side. Woodlands Inn was a welcome relief. Not only a hot shower, but a laundry and a workout room were available. On the sixth morning, freshly showered and restocked, I began the last leg of the first half of my journey. Muncho Lake, one of the “prettiest lakes in the world”, was finally in my sights.

The one hundred and fifty kilometre windy stretch of Alaska Highway to Muncho was not a quick ride. Going into the Rockies saw

twists and turns and great elevation creating vistas accompanied by intermittent high winds. Before leaving Surrey there was a thought of camping in Stone Mountain Provincial Park, a destination half way between Fort Nelson and Muncho. The mountain loomed large long before I reached it. It truly is a large bare stoned mountain. Summit Lake, at its base, where the campground is, provided very little wind protection so I made a quick decision to continue on.

Finally, three hours west of Fort Nelson, McDonald Campground in Muncho Lake Provincial Park invited me in.

With the park closing on the fifteenth, my arrival on Monday the tenth gave me five nights. Mother nature and I were going to have an invigorating Muncho Lake dance that would begin with the first night’s introduction and continue through to my exodus on Saturday morning.

Upon waking the next morning, quarter-sized snowflakes greeted me. Looking in disbelief, I noticed a couple of inches of snow covering the picnic table and Coleman Stove. Really Mother Nature? Up to this point, nothing but bright sun and clear

skies. With the two tents already setup and equipment stowed, I decided breakfast would be forty-five minutes north in Liard Springs. Of course Liard was sunny. The trip there was cool. The Serengeti of North America lived up to its label. During the short trip I saw a huge wild solitary buffalo bull stroll over the highway, then a couple of kilometres down the road two buffalo calves with two females and finally peering out from an alluvial fan, two charcoal coloured caribou. Another totally cool moment! After warm food and sunshine I headed back to Muncho with its clouds, intermittent rain and either north or south high winds. I’m there to paint so inside my studio tent I go.

Because of the rain I decided to paint in the studio tent. A tent that is twelve by twelve by nine, so setting up easel and storing supplies was perfect. With four screened windows there was access to a vista in almost any direction while staying dry. The entrance faced away from the lake giving a mountain and Black Spruce as my subject matter. Wearing winter golf gloves and mega clothes I completed the conte sketch (Plate 3), a watercolour (Plate 3a) and eventually the acrylic (Plate 3b) of the Unnamed Mountain.

Plate 3. Unamed Mountain Muncho Lake 9” x12” conte Sept 11/12

The reason for the word “eventually” was that the acrylic painting happened on the following day. Monday camp setup. Tuesday conte and watercolour. On Wednesday through Friday, the mountain scene continued as a focus.

Plate 3a Unnamed Mountain Muncho Lake 12” x 18” watercolour Sept/12

Plate 3b. Unnamed Mountain Muncho Lake 30” x 36” acrylic Sept.12/12

Because of my recently acquired love of the northern Black Spruce, it was the focus of three more paintings. With the left-over paint on my palette subsequent to the painting of Unnamed Mountain, I captured the central spruce from that painting on a twenty-four by thirty canvas (Plate 4).

Plate 4 Black Spruce 24” x 30” acrylic Sept.12/12

I also took a jar of black gesseo and poured/dripped a representation on the second tall canvas from Ashley…it was a cool process (Plate 5).

Plate 5. Black Spruce 24” x30” acrylic Sept 12/12

On Thursday the thirteenth, after my usual morning trip to Northern Rockies Lodge for breakfast, I arrived back in camp to a relatively dry day. Ah ha! A window of opportunity. Turning and walking toward the lake, I saw some colour; a purple leaved bush fronting some fluorescent green on Muncho Lake. Mother Nature gave me three hours (Plate 6). As rain began, I wrapped up and scooted into the tent with easel, painting, camping chair and supplies in tow.

Plate 6. Muncho Lake 30” x 40” acrylic Sept 13/12

My last full day, Friday, at Muncho gave me another painting (Plate 7). As you enter the campground you are greeted by an island of spruce that diverts you left into the campsites. Conveniently the view was available from the studio.

Plate 7. Black Spruce 30” x 36” acrylic

Saturday, Mother Nature allowed me enough dry time to pack before rain was dispensed. My next painting took place en route south to Monkman Provincial Park .Overnighting in Buckinghorse River P. P. allowed me to finish the process (Plate 8) started earlier on my way north.

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Plate 8 Buckinghorse River 9” x 12” conte Sept 8/12

The contrast between the gold of the turning Aspens and the conifers was the focus in my acrylic rendition (Plate 8a).

Plate 8a. Buckinghorse River 30” x 36” acrylic Sept 16/12

After spending a night in Dawson Creek, I headed southwest to Tumbler Ridge and ultimately to Monkman Provincial Park.

The fifty-one kilometre gravel road trip almost did not happen. After forty kilometres of slippery terrain and very narrow wooden bridges, it crossed my mind that I really do not have to make the remainder of this trip. There were intermittent opportunities to turn around. I eventually did find the isolated park and did set up camp but the thought of the need to traverse the

same route back out rang continuously during my stay.

The collection of firewood went bear uneventful although my adrenaline was noticeable.

After a quick scout I thought of five possible paintings.

The first two I decided to paint were the Weeping Aspens at the entrance to my campsite and a stand of pine beetle infested trees on the bank of Murray River.

Because of the sun’s direction, the stand of trees (Plate 9) was first.

Plate 9 Pine Beetle Monkman Park acrylic 30” x 36” Sept 19/12

The two solitary Aspens guarded the foot of campsite number one, my campsite. They contrasted well, not only against the dominating mass of dark green of the surrounding pine forest, but also the massive blue sky as the wind played with them (Plate 10).

Plate 10. Weeping Aspens Monkman Park acrylic 30” x 36” Sept 19

The thought of the return fifty kilometres on gravel gave me the rented horse syndrome. I realized that it was time to go home.

On September twenty I headed out on the gravel over the narrow wooden bridges out past Tumbler Ridge and didn’t breath until Mcleod Lake Park sixty kilometres north of Prince George.

The following morning I headed to the Sandman Inn in downtown Prince George.

After a night of decompressing, I started south with a quick stop for a hot chocolate. A female barista in the local Starbucks suggested that most women would want a heads up that their man is coming home so en route back to the stable this horse phoned to let Cindy know that I was coming home.

Albeit shorter than my tentative plan, I found my journey fulfilling yet tiring.

I was bringing home memories, paintings and a new respect for British Columbia and in particular the Peace Region.

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