In the morning, the gang at the air service wished Todd good luck and went back to their chores. Life chugs on. Still impressed with the ferry captain’s skill in crabbing that boat into its landing, Todd made a joke to the captain that there must be cables under the ferry to make it easy. The salute and a thumbs up by Todd let the captain know that someone appreciated his skill. The ramp dropped and Todd disappeared from that part of the world forever. Heading west up the Liard River and towards a southern route through British Columbia, Todd was looking for an old growth forest of giant yellow birch trees he had seen years ago. Near the confluence of a lesser river and the impressive Laird River, this microclimate had produced 3′ diameter yellow birch trees that were accessible from the highway. He had been through here years ago and remembered these monsters like redwoods. With the bridge crossing as his memory trigger, Todd looked, turned around and looked again. They were gone. Some business fuck decided they needed to be cabinets in somebody’s kitchen. The prick couldn’t leave just 1, he took them all including the stumps. If someone had not invented money, we would still have Tasmanian Tigers, Passenger Pigeons, and a lot of murdered spouses alive. Humans! Someone is doing a poor job of eradicating this greedy species. Now on the Alaskan Highway, Mr. Winter drove south and all the way down to Dawson Creek at Mile Marker 0. With stops and small hikes, the days were disappearing. Over to Grand Prairie, then Hinton, the entrance to Jasper National Park from the north and through the most impressive display of glacier erosion ever. That is until Greenland’s ice cap melts and litters the valleys with dead humans (about time). Being here before on 2 occasions, the beauty and volume are beyond description and attracts people of all walks of life. Well, looky see, here’s a man in his 40’s that needs a ride. He has a big backpack and all his stuff.