Ryan's Journal

"My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?" — David Mitchell

170 miles north of Prince George, British Columbia

Posted at 2:00 pm, October 20th, 2002

I feel as if I’ve crossed an invisible boundary — in the far north there are pockets of humanity in the midst of the wilderness, while in the south there are islands of wilderness in the midst of a sea of humanity. The country that I’m traveling through now feels very much like a transitional zone between the two — the area around Hudson’s Hope didn’t feel like a wilderness, but it was in no way crowded or spoiled. Bradford Angier never wrote anything negative about his home, and seeing the country around Hudson’s Hope I can better understand his views — it would indeed be an amazing place to live. The Peace River rolls lazily through a wide valley, mountains rise slowly on all sides, forests are interspersed with golden meadows, and dozens of deer roam throughout. It lacked the wild feel of lands further north, but had a “homey” feel that the Yukon and Alaska lacked.

A last note, but I would be remiss if I failed to mention Jason’s Log. He and I have followed eerily similar paths over the last few months — I made up my mind to quit my job while on a backpacking trip with him, we both left jobs at Accenture at about the same time, and our lives have both changed direction dramatically since we quit. Jason’s journey, however, has involved more showers, less soup, and the occasional bit of haggis.

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