You can't control the weather

The last two days have largely been spent in the car. The weather left us with a choice between camping in the rain, or driving east and making up some for our slow departure from Vancouver Island. As a result, there's not much to report.

We are taking the scenic route through southern British Columbia. Our plan is to stick to route 3, also known as the "Crowsnest Highway" until it ends in Medicine Hat, Alberta. In spite of spending most of our time in the car, we've actually seen a fair bit of wildlife. Chris spotted a black bear eating something in the ditch right off the highway, a coyote ran across the road not far in front of our car, and we've seen a fair amount of caribou and deer as well.

After leaving Anderson Beach, our first stop was in Princeton where we got a motel room, watched Vancouver win game one in NHL Western Conference Finals, and tried to locate some good potential camping spots for the nights ahead. Our intent, as always, is to find a good spot and set up camp for at least a couple of nights. Unfortunately, the camping spot on Monroe Lake identified on a website as an excellent free place to camp was neither free nor a camping site. It was a day use picnic area.

The Monroe Lake site was located just up the road from Moyie Lake Provincial Park. So, late last night we pulled into the park's almost completely empty campground and spent the night there. This morning we are in Cranbrook, BC doing our laundry, blogging, and researching future potential campsites in hopes we can finally catch a break from the weather and enjoy a couple of sunny days somewhere in the shadow of the Canadian Rockies. It looks as though we are gunning for Hartley Lake just outside of Fernie, BC, but don't be surprised if we end up reporting we stayed somewhere else in a couple of days. Not knowing for sure where we're going to end up is a large part of the appeal.

Sorry, no pictures this time around. Moyie Lake was mostly lodgepole pine, white tailed deer, and squirrels. Besides squeaking and groaning in the breeze all night like a rusty hinge, the lodgepole pine monoculture landscape of the campground had no real significant qualities, photographic or otherwise. Moyie Lake itself was high, the waves nearly reaching the picnic tables along the shore. The sky above it was slate grey, threatening even more rain when we went to bed. But there is sun in Cranbrook at the moment, and we are daring to allow ourselves some cautious optimism about our next stop. Keep your fingers crossed.