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Jack Stafford, August 12th
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Journal entries during the "Top of the World Tour" from Vancouver to Inuvik, NWT. This chapter takes me from Prince Rupert, BC to Costa Mesa, CA.
We get up at 6 which is damned early based on our track record. The que for the ferry ends around 7:30 then the Queen of the North ferry sails at 8am. I find a large lounge type seat that reclines and go back to sleep. Someone wakes me then points to the jacket across the 2 seats next to me. I say "That's been there for at least a half-hour, go ahead and sit down." One fellow picks up the jacket and sits down with his wife. They seem upset that I am sitting here. All I can do is point to one of the many signs: [Clothing or personal items may not be used to reserve seating.] They begin to say things in French. I put my earplugs in and go back to sleep.
I've been reading a Steven King novel, the Green Mile, to pass the time. Since it's a long voyage the car level of the ship is opened to passengers every three hours. I go down and make a sandwich for lunch. There's a red and yellow sign on my van [Fuel Leak - No Smoking] and a pail of gravel under the rear. I'm leaking fuel from the fuel pump.
I've been hanging out on the rear deck watching the rain and the green mountains on either side dissapear into the mist. Once the rain lets up the decks get crowded. There are a few small fishing villages like Butedale and Bella Bella we sail past. There's very little sign of any lumbering in the inside passage. We all gather on the stern to watch the sunset.
On the way to camp I stop at a turnout to inspect the leakage. My fuel is down a quarter tank from full. Fuel is weeping from the fitting on the electric fuel pump. Hopefully it is only a split fuel line. We drive to Port Alice and our camp. It's very dark here on the island at midnight. I can imagine sasquatch watching from the thick, dark forest around me.
Neil wakes me up at 7:30 as planned. I get my grungies on and start to investigate the fuel leak. Visual inspection revealed lots of dried on clay from the unpaved roads and fuel lines that look and feel stiff. As long as I'm removing the fuel pump I should replace the fuel lines.
I thought the pump was leaking betw the metal "can" and the bakelite at the outlet side of the pump. I sealed this area using JB Weld epoxy. As it cured I discovered the true source of the leak. A hairline crack in the bakelite outlet nipple. If I slip the fuel line over the crack it stops the leak. It'll do until I can find a replacement pump on the mainland. I phone Bow-wow in Vancouver - $297 for a new Bosch fuel pump. Wow. Bow.
I replaced all the fuel lines last summer and already there are some which are brittle. The ones I replaced have tiny cracks in the cut ends about 1mm in length. Not enough to leak but enough to make me want to inspect everything when I get back home. Odometer: 241,490 miles.
Tobin and Christa lead and I follow to Nanaimo and the ferry to the main- land. This is a short ferry, only 90 minutes. At last they are home again and catching up on things. Coyote's EuroVan is in the car park, but not Coyote. Later he stops by the apartment. I camp in the space next to the EuroVan and think about finding a pump in the morning. I&J slept in and will stay on the island an extra day.
Coyote and I go to breakfast on Davie St. On the way back we stop in the Sony store and there's a NASCAR race on the televisions. While he's asking about car audio I catch up on how the #3 car is running at Watkins Glen.
I drive across town to buy a fuel pump at Bow-wow. They do not have the large size fuel line from the fuel filter to the fuel pump. I go to the VW dealer in town and they do not have it or any kind of clue as to where to find one. I suggest an industrial hose supply for hydraulic systems. All I get is a shrug and a quote for the pump at $370. Ha ha.
The replacement pump is about 2cm longer than the original one. It'll work. Old P/N: 0580 463 010 New P/N: 0580 463 016 It fits and works just fine. I do a couple loads of laundry and take a shower at T&C's apartment. After a while we go to a Vietnamese restaurant for dinner. Coyote leaves for WA state and points south.
I retire to the parking lot and plan to leave at noon if I&J do not show by then. A knock comes on the sliding door. It must be the cops to shake me down. No, it's Ivette and Jorge! We go down the block to a pub for hot wings and Heinekens.
I wake up everyone at 9:30 and insist that Jorge change his oil. We go to breakie then on the road by noon. The wait at the peace arch crossing into USA took 45 minutes. I had to surrender my last apple and orange to USDA.
Along I-5 there are signs that describe the services: gas, food, tourist info. One sign for a restaurant wrote: [Good food. Lousy service.] I wanted to go back and get a photo but we were making good time on the fwy. Jorge returns a 009 dist at Bow-wow in Lynnewood. Their price on the fuel pump - $180 damn.
As we near Seattle the traffic gets backed up. On the way I try to phone Clara in Olympia but her line's engaged. I decide to just drop in on her. We rap about Type2's and the Inuvik trip then watch a videotape movie starring Julia Ormond, R.Gere and S.Connery. It's medieval night at Clara's. It was nice to watch TV again with something worth watching on it. Thanks for the hospitality. Odometer: 241,709 miles.
At 11 we go out for brunch at The Place. Huge, tasty looking portions but I already ate breakfast in the van at 9. Back at Clara's I&J get the tour of all the split window vans. I wished I had taken a photo of the yert in the corner of the yard. I've never seen one before and it looked really cool.
We said goodbyes and drove to town for some shopping. I bought some albums for the road by Pink Floyd: The Wall and Wish You Were Here. I'm running out of fresh tapes to play. I also ran out of ginseng so I stocked up on that, too. At Eugene, OR we take 58 east to Black Canyon recreation area for our last camp together. I&J cooked fettucini and chicken breast. These folks are chicken masters. Tomorrow I must say goodbye to the last of the vanagon people and make a run for L.A. Odometer: 241,955 miles.
Make coffee and lunch, then do a quick preflight check for my run down I-5. Everything is in order except the starter solenoid has hung up again. I say goodbye to a sleepy Ivette. Jorge gives me his address and one last push start.
I back track to I-5 and cruise. Highway construction near the bridge at Lake Shasta slows everyone down. Other than that I-5 is in beautiful shape. At Corning, CA I stop for stuffed green olives. Shiela had some of these at our camp at Williams Lake, BC. I got behind all sorts of trucks in the slow lane. Some hauling garlic others roma tomatoes. The fires near the coast wave their plumes of smoke over the valley. It makes for a pretty sunset but a horror for the firefighters west of here. Odometer: 242,618 miles.
In Stockton I stop for fuel, then pull behind a building and take a solar shower. I've been driving all day and a warm shower after sundown feels great. I've got my second wind. I finally stop at a rest area south of the Los Banos cutoff. Same one as on the way north. Relax and listen to the radio, then sleep.
I wake with the sun at 7. It's time to get rolling before that 90* temperature kicks in. The valley, from Red Bluff south, was hot and dry. Most of the time I try and make this run in the evening so it's not so hot on the engine. There's a couple crop dusters skimming the ground then popping up to do a wingover then back on the deck for another pass. It's not too windy this early in the morning.
Once I get over the grapevine I can tell it's L.A. The air stinks and everyone drives like hell. Again, I hunker down in the slow lane and let the maniacs by. Eventually I get to Costa Mesa and home. It's good to see my cats again. While in the grocery stores of Canada I'd see the pet food aisle and miss them. My plants and goldfish died while I was away. A friend did remember to tape the NASCAR races for me from Pocono, Watkins Glen. It's great to be back home again.
From Vancouver to Costa Mesa I had Coyote's magnetic sign on the rear hatch. It mentioned our trip to Inuvik, the www page and CB channel 2. Only one other person ever talked to me on the way south on ch2, a lady in a Ford bronco. There was a biker that nodded near Seattle. He had a Jerry can and a dusty, haggard look that said, "I survived the Dempster highway, too." Odometer: 242,832 miles.
Jack (stafford@alloth.hac.com)
