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We scraped together a grubstake and headed north in our own buckboard, a 1999 Dodge Dakota specially equipped as a true multipurpose vehicle (MPV); a sport SUV, a work truck, a capable 4x4 and a fully self-contained camper all in one. We named it The Weekend Warrior, but its Four Wheel pop-up camper was comfortable enough for a three-week road trip like this, with occasional stops at RV parks.

Crossing the . border into Canada, we headed for Fort Langley, just off Trans-Canada Highway 1 on the Fraser River. Portions of the old fort buildings have been restored. The site was established in 1827 by the Hudson Bay Company, which still operates in Canada. (If nothing else, you should get a Hudson Bay blanket.) The Fort Langley Museum gave us a good feeling for the history we were about to drive through, and an elegant dinner at the historic Bedford House made for a memorable first evening in . We joined a couple of other RVs for a quiet night next to the river.

Avoiding major highways when we could, we hopped the free government ferry across the Fraser to Albion, and picked up Highway 7, a more-scenic route leading east to Hope. Since leaving our home in California, we had been on the road for several days, and aggravated by foul weather (this is ., and it rains a bit, eh?), the little camper was getting cramped. A soak in a nice hot mineral pool sounded like good therapy, so we made our next stop at Harrison Hot Springs. The local Salish Indians have long used the area as a place to heal body and spirit. It worked for us. After a relaxing swim and a superb dinner at the elegant Harrison Hot Springs Hotel, our spirits had definitely been lifted.

Patching back into Trans-Canada Highway 1 near Hope, we followed the Fraser River through Hell's Gate Canyon. Below us, a raging brown torrent churned through narrow vertical cliffs. An air tram descends 500 feet across the river to an observation deck. It was almost inconceivable that wagons loaded with supplies could have made it through this country, and even less plausible that paddlewheels navigated these treacherous waters all the way up to Hope and farther north to Yale.

Yale is an easily missed speck on the map, and that's a mistake. The little Historic Yale Museum is fascinating. We learned that just 12,000 years ago, the area was covered in a sheath of ice a mile thick! The museum building is actually a house dating to 1868 and, next door, the Church of St. John the Divine was built in 1860. It was here that the infamous Cariboo Wagon Road began through the impassible Fraser Canyon.

In the town of Lytton, the Gold Rush Trail turns left on Highway 12 to Lillooet and the confluence of the Fraser and the Thompson rivers. The dangerous route, partly hand-carved from the solid-- rock cliffs, was called the eighth wonder of the world. Taking the opportunity to explore some side roads, we ferried across the river above Lillooet on a three-car hydraulic-powered barge. Hot winds gusting across the bow were expected to reach 60 mph. After a short drive to Kelly Lake, we retreated, fearing the wind would close the ferry. This area has an almost desertlike climate. It was not the . we had imagined, full of trees, lakes, green mountains and fish.

While the history of this route was fascinating, we had our own interests in mind, and gold mining wasn't one of them, unless you call a 10-pound rainbow trout a strike. At the 93 Mile House, Highway 24, known as The Fishing Highway, turns east toward Little Fort, winding its way through a hundred lakes and some of .'s best freshwater angling. We stopped at the Sheridan Lake Resort and found the clean campground a good base from which to explore the surrounding country.

Fishing in Sheridan Lake can only be described as world class. We pulled out onto a grassy point and popped up the camper's top. Rainbows in the 5- to 10-pound range rolled in the clear water, prompting us to unpack our Sage fly rods. We watched in amazement as the trout leaped out of the water all around our camp. Mind you, they aren't as easy to catch as it looks, but owners Bob and Jeanine Leith are more than willing to share their secrets at the resort's full tackle shop and marina. Boats and motors can be rented. An 18-pounder is the Sheridan Lake record. That's a big rainbow! We barbecued a 6-pound beauty with its head and tail hanging over the grill.

Looking over the topography maps with Bob, he pointed out some interesting side trips. This part of British Columbia is laced with a maze of logging roads, and typical of these trails, no matter what kind of map you have, you're lost most of the time. Turning off Highway 24 onto Judson Road, we wound our way up toward Windy Mountain Forest Road. This was still early spring in the high country. At 3,618 feet, daffodils and dandelions flooded hillsides, and aspens were just coming into leaf. Looking for a lake that didn't want to be found, we followed several abandoned two-tracks into dead-end clear-cuts. A bear and numerous deer were our only companions.

We were enjoying the feeling of just wandering around, keeping track of our route on the Lowrance GlobalMap 100 GPS. The post marking the trail to Needa Lake was down, but a passing fisherman pointed us in the right direction. We stopped at the little campground for lunch.

Big drops of rain warned of another front coming in. Soon we were splashing through muddy potholes, intermittently seeing sun, rain, hail and snow. Passing Rat, Donnely and Cougar lakes, we arrived at the trailhead for Mahood Falls. Even in the pouring rain, the short walk through an old-growth forest to Mahood and Cam River Falls was rewarding.

Driving a few of these backroads gave us the opportunity to evaluate a couple of accessories we had added in the preparation of The Weekend Warrior. The ability to adjust our Rancho 9000 shocks from inside the cab, using the remotecontrol system, was great! A medium washboard called for a setting of about , while low-range 4x4 rut-crawling needed a full 6 for maximum control.

Out on the highway, we'd drop it down to 1 for a cushy ride. Not having to ever worry about tire pressure was also a pleasure. The SmarTire wireless remote pressure and temperature sensors worked flawlessly, giving us the precise information about each tire every 30 seconds as we drove. If we had picked up a piece of rock on these wet shale roads, the SmarTire alarm would have warned us instantly, before the tire was ruined.

This geographic region, called the Cariboo Chilcotin Coast, is home to Canada's largest concentration of guest ranches. We met Dan Blattler and his wife, Nicolle Dupont, who invited us out for a day of horseback riding on their Montana Hill Guest Ranch. We had forgotten the pleasure of listening to the squeak of a good leather saddle and moving with the sway of a wellmannered horse. Maintained riding trails meander through pine and aspen forests, across lush meadows and babbling creeks.

Had we not been traveling in our own self-contained camper their deluxe log-- cabin accommodations would have been a treat. In fact, many RVers park their rigs and enjoy some time off the road. An evening soak in the deckside hot tub soothed muscles we didn't know we had.

Back on the Cariboo Wagon Road (now Highway 97), we drove north through Williams Lake to Quesnel and turned east on Highway 26. Seventeen miles from Quesnel, the old Cottonwood House Historic Park made an ideal late-lunch stop. It would take us the rest of the day to reach our camp at Bowron Lake Provincial Park. We had heard that Bowron was the start of one of the best canoe routes in ., 72 miles long including portages between six lakes and other waterways, with patrol cabins and cooking shelters along the way. Trips from one day to more than a week can bring you close to moose, deer, caribou, mountain goats, grizzly bears and beavers. Canoes and equipment can be rented at Bowron Lake.

Tempting as a canoe trip was, the weather looked damp, so we continued east to Barkerville, where the gold rush had started. This small community, once the largest city west of Chicago and north of San Francisco, has been partially restored into a living gold-rush town. At 4,744 feet, the dirt streets still showed the melting signs of a harsh winter. Light flakes of snow drifted down as we walked on Main Street, past the bakery, the blacksmith, the oneroom schoolhouse and the saloon. More than 125 heritage buildings still stand. Locals dressed in period clothes hustled about with the business of the day. We stopped at the bakery for a cup of hot coffee and a warm cinnamon roll, fresh out of the oven.

It's easy to spend several hours wandering around the Barkerville back streets. Relics of old wagons and trucks rest in peace, predecessors to today's modern pickups. We stepped into the . Photographic Gallery to see what we might have looked like in the clothing of the time.

A BX delivery wagon rattled by (motor vehicles are not allowed in town). The breath of its horses steamed in the brisk mountain air. I couldn't help but wonder what a tired fortune seeker in 1860 might have felt after an arduous month crawling over the difficult Cariboo Wagon Road. What would he have paid for a hot cinnamon roll and a good cup of coffee?

On our way to past adventures in Alaska and the Yukon, we've sped through this part of Canada, never realizing what treasures we were missing. It would take months to scratch the surface of British Columbia - wet a line in a stream, do a white-water rafting trip or paddle a few lakes. There's a road from Williams Lake over to Bella Coola, on the North Bentinck Arm of the Burke Channel, where you can hop on a ferry to Vancouver Island. The spring silver salmon were running on the Pacific Coast. Hmmm, maybe the Alaska Highway could wait one more week,eh?

Tourism British Columbia, (800) HELLO BC, . CIRCLE 211 ON READER SERVICE CARD.

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