the Barometer
A Bend in the Road
Back in the last century—the 1900s—I saw a very clever summertime cartoon in the Terrace Review newspaper.
It shows the bridge over the railroad tracks in Terrace (between Prince George and Prince Rupert) where the road switches from the south to the north side of the tracks. This bridge
was never meant to be a major conduit for east-west travel, just a quick shortcut to the “new” hospital.
On the gently-rounded slope of this cartton overpass is pictured a “Land Yacht”, also known as an RV.
Alright, to picture it, do not imagine a travel trailer. Not a tent-trailer, not a pop-up, not a fifth-wheel. Think of a huge honkin’ bus-type vehicle, towing a—well—a non-recreational vehicle, like a car or SUV, for when you get somewhere and just want to buzz around town.
Behind and in front of the RV are numerous pick-up trucks, each containing a large dog. Each dog says (in a word bubble): “Bark!”
The cartoon’s caption was “Spot the Tourist.”
When we first moved to Terrace, back in the ’80s, just after this cartoon appeared in print, we bought a pickup truck. I asked the Terrace Truck sales guy, “Does the Big Dog come with it, or do we have to get that separately?”
These days, especially in June, July and August, RVs far out-number pick-ups on the overpass pictured in the cartoon. There is an alternate route through Terrace—across the “old bridge” and through town on the main street, but you have to be driving a smaller vehicle to use it.
The highway does not really travel through the middle of most towns in Northwest BC. Instead it is usually lined with gas stations and fast food restaurants, To get the real feel of a town you have to turn off the highway and find the Main Street.
But there is a notable exception: the one spot on the road from George to Rupert, or vice versa, that no driver can avoid. It’s the bend in the road at Burns Lake.
You can’t see it on a highway map. There you only see the wide, sweeping
upside-down U’s between Burns Lake and Houston, and Houston and Terrace. But the S-curve in Burns Lake is so small and tight, it is a local phenomenon.
After speeding along at 100k for hours, you slow to enter Burns Lake. From gazing at far-off cows in vast fields, you are suddenly three feet away from pedestrians going into the
drug store.
There is parking on the street, where local pick-ups have stopped for lunch at the hotel.
There’s an art shop and the museum; just put on your blinkers and pull up at a nice stretch of curb.
If you have lunch at the hotel, large windows afford you a view of the main drag. The traffic moves very slowly, due to the curviness and the narrow road. License plates from all over North America will be on display. RVs of all sizes, huge trucks, cars, and motorcycles in groups of two to 32 parade by. Neighbourhood children on bicycles spending their allowance on candy and comic books pedal by.
There is no alternate route for anyone driving to the North Coast. There are roads south and north of Burns Lake, but after meandering around a few lakes full of big trout, they stop.
Hauling your truck camper and boat from Alberta to Kitimat for some river or ocean fishing? Gotta go through Burns Lake. Driving from Halifax to Prince Rupert on a lark? Burns Lake. Taking a long-awaited dream trip from Texas to the Alaska Highway? See ya in Burns.
Going west to east, you can take the Circle Route by air or ocean to Rupert, and drive back home—through Burns Lake.
Last summer, while vacationing there, we had a nice chat with a staffer in the museum who told us she used to live in Terrace. “Oh, how’d’ya like it there?” we asked. She said, “Oh, it’s great. But it’s so, you know, touristy. Especially in the summer.”
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