Northeast
BC

After a somewhat traumatic road trip with myself and kids from Peachland to Victoria a few weeks earlier still fresh in my mind, we devised some rules to save our sanity. 

Firstly: No big drives. My wife and I were both touring musicians in our previous lives, and we can happily deadhead for hours—if not days—on end. The kids? Not so much. So, no big drives. The plan is to do a couple hours on the road in the morning, a nice long break for lunch and a runaround, tire the kids out, then back in the car for another couple hours. 

Secondly: Minimum two nights per campsite. Setting up camp and then taking it down the next morning is a massive chore. Plus, we actually want to see what this province has to offer. If we’re only staying somewhere for one night, AirBnB or a hotel it is.

Thirdly: Arrive early. Setting up camp in the dark is the worst and the kids need to stretch their legs before bed, otherwise they’ll never go to sleep. 

So, with these guidelines in mind and the best of intentions, we promptly broke all of our rules on the very first day and would live to regret it.

We disembarked the ferry in sunny Tsawwassen and headed towards the stop my five-year-old son was most looking forward to: the waterslides. No, not the ones right next to the ferry terminal, much to the kids’ chagrin. We instead opted for Bridal Falls Waterpark, just outside of Chilliwack, which is geared for smaller children and allowed us to get a couple hours driving in before we properly unleashed the children. 

For lunch, we stopped in at Field House CHWK on the Fraser Valley Ale Trail, the latest location for the Field House Brewing empire, complete with its own brewhouse and exclusive beers.

Located in Chilliwack’s recently revitalized downtown core in the adorably named Woolly Dog Alley, the brewery was open and airy on this gorgeous sunny day, with the ample patio packed with people pounding pilsners and pale ales. 

We opted to stay inside and dine in the shade, lest my fair-skinned, ginger-haired son burst into flames in the summer sun. 

With a menu as extensive and impressive as its beer list, Field House CHWK is yet another BC craft brewery that has elevated its food offerings, giving people who don’t drink beer—or don’t drink at all—a reason to visit.

The Sangria Smoothie Sour was everything my tastebuds needed on this hot summer day, and the wood-fired sub sandwiches made with gloriously chewy in-house fresh-baked bread were worth the trip all on their own.

After lunch, it was a short drive to Bridal Falls Waterpark, just off Hwy 1. While the waterpark doesn’t offer much for adrenaline junkies, its gently sloping slides are perfect for small kids. So much so that we may have spent longer than we intended at the park.

By the time we towelled off and got back into the car, it was past 5pm, and we were still more than two hours to Kamloops, where we planned to stop for dinner, then another hour and a half to our campsite at North Thompson Provincial Park in Clearwater.

I told my wife not to worry, because I can drive really fast, and that will save us time. Like, dangerously, recklessly fast. So friggin’ fast, we’ll be there in no time. 

Oddly, that did little to satisfy her concern. 

The Coquihalla Highway still bears scars from the catastrophic landslides and flooding it suffered in 2021, and with the children happily napping in the back, we cruised through the mountains and into Kamloops in two blissfully quiet hours. 

Our dinner stop this evening was Iron Road Brewing, next to the Thompson Rivers University campus. In addition to producing consistently award-winning beer, it’s also home to some of the best Mexican food in the Interior. 

My five-year-old son was particularly impressed with the churros, as this was his first time trying the delicious fried treat, resulting in a series of excited shrieks and sugar-induced convulsions (my apologies to the other diners).

I was similarly excited about the Loopline IPA, a juicy, fruity, citrus-forward hop-bomb that finished dry and paired perfectly with the chorizo and goat cheese tacos.

After filling ourselves with more tacos, nachos, empanadas and churros than is advisable, we waddled back to the car for the final stretch to Clearwater and our campsite. 

The sun set almost instantly, and freshly invigorated by a nap and dose of sugar, the kids proceeded to laugh, then scream, then cry all the way to the campsite.

I managed to set up the tent in record time (in the dark), and we settled in for a restless evening of even more screaming and crying. 

After a quick breakfast of watery instant coffee and mini-boxes of sugary cereal, we packed up the camp I set up mere hours earlier and loaded up the car for the day’s adventure. 

In the daylight, the campground at North Thompson Provincial Park proved to be a wise choice: huge campsites, decent-enough facilities, (is there a more iconic symbol of BC than the humble, ubiquitous provincial park pit toilet?), and a massive playground and sports field complete with a large wooden fort, apparently modelled after the fur trading posts of yore. 

However, the best thing about North Thompson Provincial Park is its location. It’s less than two minutes from the highway, exactly halfway between Vancouver and Edmonton, making it the perfect spot to break up the drive. It also sits at the entrance of the Clearwater Valley and the spectacular Wells Gray Provincial Park, one of the many underappreciated gems in the BC parks system.

With that in mind, we turned left and headed up Clearwater Road into the park in search of some of the province’s biggest and most spectacular waterfalls. Which are thankfully all very easy to find, many with paved roads and wheelchair access.

The crown jewel of the park, and part of the reason for its existence, is Helmcken Falls. Possibly the most impressive waterfall in BC, thundering Helmcken Falls plunges more than 140 metres off a volcanic escarpment into the Murtle River valley below and makes for a great picnic stop. The fact that it elicited an enthusiastic “WHOA!” from my otherwise jaded five-year-old speaks volumes to its grandeur.

On the way back down the valley, we stopped at Dawson and Spahats Falls, both of which are easily accessible from the main road. Dawson Falls is a wide mini-Niagara formed by the Murtle River plunging 20 metres. The trail puts you right at the water’s edge, so hold on to your kids! Meanwhile, Spahats Falls is narrow and high, falling close to 80 metres down a slot canyon. The lookout is well-fenced and perched atop a cliff opposite the falls, offering spectacular views of the Clearwater valley in all directions. 

After a morning spent chasing waterfalls (my apologies to TLC), we had worked up a mighty hunger (and thirst!). However, much to our disappointment, the Hop ‘n’ Hog Tap and Smokehouse was closed on this day. This Clearwater institution is an oasis of delicious craft beer and barbecue on this otherwise gastronomically bereft stretch of the Yellowhead Highway. Ten taps of rotating local craft beer and award-winning alder-smoked brisket, ribs and chicken that we didn’t get to try. While I’ve had the pleasure before, my wife had not, and after building up the Hop ‘n’ Hog all day, she was particularly disappointed. The disappointment didn’t last long, though, as we settled for the Wild Flour Café and Bakery just down the road and tucked into some delightful baked goods and more much-needed coffee.
With my daughter now napping and my son absorbed in the iPad, we made a beeline for our next stop, 200km away in Valemount.

This once sleepy railroad town has found new life in recent years as a mountain bike and snowmobile mecca. Slaking the thirsts of locals and visitors alike is Three Ranges Brewing, which despite its modest brewhouse and location in the exact middle of nowhere, has won some pretty prestigious awards for its beers in recent years, including Best North American IPA at the 2018 BC Beer Awards for its Tail Slap IPA.  

Inside, the tasting room is inviting and cozy, with long wooden communal tables and plenty of local mountain history on the walls, reminiscent of a backcountry ski chalet.

However, on this sunny day we opted to drink outside instead, where the surrounding mountains look close enough to touch from the patio Three Ranges shares with its neighbour, the Funk Goat Eatery. 

The refreshing Mount Robson Kolsch-Style Ale is just the thing after a hard day of shredding single tracks—or in my case, having my seat kicked for two hours straight by a bored five-year-old. Clean, dry and with a touch of malt and fruity yeast character, it’s both flavourful and crushable.

After a thorough runaround for the kids at the Canfor Adventure Playground down the street, we were ready to hit the road again into the Rockies.

Mount Robson looked just as splendid as it did on the cans of beer we got to-go from Three Ranges. The highest point in the Canadian Rockies loomed above us, unusually free of clouds as we drove towards the Alberta border and a seeming black wall of precipitation. Apparently, someone didn’t get the memo: BC is supposed to be wet, and the prairies are supposed to be dry. However, the weather in the Rockies does whatever the hell it wants, as we would discover.

That evening we pulled into the sprawling Wapiti Campground in Jasper National Park (an hour before sundown this time) and began to set up camp when the black curtain of rain caught up to us. As I roasted wieners for the kids, my wife spotted the thunderstorm coming down the valley.

“I’m taking the kids into the tent,” she said. “You need to put everything in the car. NOW.” 

“It’s just some rain clouds, how bad could it be?”

Famous last words. My wife, who is from Edmonton, knew exactly what we were in for.

The inky, black curtain descended on us, and in an instant, gusts of more than 100km/h sent tents, tarps and camping chairs from the sites around us airborne. Then came the rain, roughly the intensity of a firehose, and seemingly horizontal. I scrambled to pack up our food and camping gear and put it in the car. My clothes were immediately soaked through, so I gave up and stripped down to my swimsuit and gum boots and tried to wrangle the tarp and car-mounted awning that had been blown loose. As I struggled to reattach the awning’s bent aluminum support pole, lightning touched down about a hundred metres away. The other campers were jumping in their cars and trucks and driving away, abandoning their campsites. I dropped the large, wet, metal pole, and gave up, heading for the tent.

My half-eaten hot dog would have to wait, sadly.

Inside the tent, my wife and I had to shout at each other a couple inches apart to be heard over the din of rain pelting the tent fabric. My two-year-old daughter screamed apoplectically, while my son, incredibly, was fast asleep. After an hour, the rain began to taper, only for it to start hailing. Thankfully, the tent held, and, happily, my car was scrubbed free of bugs. My hot dog was a write-off, however.

After cheersing the ridiculous and charming giant “Peegee” mascot statue with a can of Deadfall Brewing’s delicious Succession IPA, we treated ourselves to some killer wood-fired pizzas at Crossroads Brewing & Distillery, as well as some killer beers. 

Located right downtown, Crossroads is at the epicentre of urban renewal in Prince George. In its shadow, a veritable ecosystem of hip new restaurants and bars has sprung up, giving folks a reason to stick around downtown after quitting time. The standout for me was the Sunkissed IPA, which was exceedingly well balanced and refreshing, with notes of melon, stonefruit and citrus. My wife, meanwhile, was partial to the Cloud 9 Witbier, an exceptionally clean and dry take on this fruity Belgian classic.

The kids were fascinated by the many chainsaw sculptures that line the streets—of which Chetwynd claims to be the world capital. There must be hundreds of them, every few metres, on every road and in every park. They’re everywhere. The quality and themes vary greatly. There are mythological and biblical sculptures, pop culture subjects, literary themes, abstract works, and plenty of wooden wildlife. The consensus in our car was that the happy pack of monkeys was the clear favourite.

After reaching our AirBnB in Fort St. John, with my kids now asleep and my wife happily watching RuPaul’s Drag Race, I snuck off for a cheeky pint at Mighty Peace Brewing, BC’s northernmost brewery—beating out Beard’s Brewing by two blocks. If you want proof that the craft beer revolution has been fought and won, Mighty Peace might be Exhibit A. More than 1,200 km from the craft beer heartland in Victoria and Vancouver, craft beer is alive and well here in the “Energetic City” thanks in part to the approachable, well-executed beers at Mighty Peace. The comfortable and modern tasting room is bedecked in distressed wood, and regularly hosts live bands. Honestly, it wouldn’t look out of place in the Lower Mainland.

And neither would the extensive beer list, with its focus on lagers and IPAs. In particular, the Pineapple Gose Sour Ale was a revelation, and I say this as someone not particularly keen on pineapple. Super fruity, tropical, and herbal with a restrained acidity and maximum refreshment, it’s the kind of beer that makes people reconsider their preconceived notions about what a beer can be. Which I imagine was probably the point: earn people’s trust with a rock-solid lager, then knock their socks off with something like this.

Much to our surprise and delight, our AirBnB was located just a short walk from the Charlie Lake Pub, which as we discovered was a great source of deep-fried pub grub and a surprising selection of craft beer. With our bellies full, we ventured up the Peace River Valley towards the WAC Bennett Dam and BC’s biggest freshwater body, Williston Lake. The drive along Hwy 29 was interesting given the valley is slated to be flooded—along with thousands of hectares of farmland and hundreds of First Nations archeological sites—to create the Site C Dam reservoir in the coming years, which will provide clean, renewable energy for generations. The highway itself was in the process of being moved to higher ground to make way for the lake. Regardless of how you feel about the project—and judging from the many signs erected on the soon-to-be-underwater highway, opinions are mixed, to say the least—I would highly recommend visiting this tranquil river valley before it changes forever.

The WAC Bennett Dam is the largest hydro-generating station in BC and forms the seventh-largest hydro reservoir in the world. In other words: it’s really honking big. Much to our surprise, you’re allowed to drive right across the top of it to access a scenic viewpoint overlooking the dam and its brutalist powerhouse that’s straight out of a 1950s science fiction magazine. It’s an undeniably stunning sight, and the visitor’s centre made for a great afternoon stop.

Hours from the nearest sizable town and not on the way to anywhere, it’s not somewhere you’re likely to stumble upon by accident. Tumbler Ridge might be a former mining town, but it has the look and feel of a mountain resort. The town is surrounded by spectacular alpine peaks in every direction, with hikes of every length and difficulty. The area has been recognized as a UNESCO Global Geopark, one of only three in Canada, thanks to its unspoiled wilderness, many scenic waterfalls, and a plethora of local dinosaur finds. I could tell my wife liked the town when she pulled out her phone and fired up the real estate app she uses to check property prices. 

“We could live here. We could totally live here.”

Any trip to Tumbler Ridge should start with a visit to what might be one of the most impressive visitor centres in the province. In addition to free maps and hiking guides, video displays, and kids’ activities, they even have cross-country ski rentals available in the winter.

Because we had two small children in tow, we opted for something less adventurous than a multi-day trek through the Rockies: the local dinosaur museum. Housed in a former elementary school, the Tumbler Ridge Museum is home to the only tyrannosaur ever found in BC, as well as the province’s most complete dinosaur skeleton: a duck-billed hadrosaur the size of an elephant. 

Another thunderstorm cut short our wander around the quaint and friendly townsite, and we decided instead to carry on north towards our destination.

On Hwy 52, we encountered a shockingly scenic site: A massive wind farm rising from the foothills on either side of the road, some a few hundred metres away. While we had obviously seen windmills before, we’d never seen them this close, and it turns out they are impossibly large! They dwarfed the hills they were perched on and loomed over the landscape. It was honestly kind of surreal. While some might understandably not appreciate the windmills, we found them striking. The clean energy they produce is a nice bonus, too. 

As the highway tumbled out of the Rocky Mountain foothills on to the prairies of Peace River country, the thick spruce forests gave way to sprawling farms stretching to the horizon. If you’ve ever had a Canadian craft beer, there’s a good chance the malted barley that went into that beer was grown right here. 

We rolled into Dawson Creek (not to be confused with Dawson’s Creek, the late ‘90s teen melodrama) as the late summer sun was beginning to set, and my wife and I congratulated ourselves on surviving our first road trip with both kids—a 2,000-km road trip, no less. However, as we pulled into the parking lot at the Mile Zero marker, we turned to find the kids had fallen asleep in the back seat. We parked and quietly slipped out of the car to take a selfie in front of the marker and enjoyed the sunset together. A rare quiet moment, just to ourselves… before we had to start thinking about the journey home.