To get to the logging road I first had to ride on Agnew Lake road which was a real treat. Curvy pavement gradually leading uphill to a crest then traversing the down hill side with cambered turns, some with decreasing radiuses. For the first time on this trip I got to extend Black Betty’s legs plus it engorged me with some much needed adrenalin. I originally passed my entrance to the logging road having way too much fun on this road course.



The road ended at a tourist resort so I turned my attention to PV50.
It started out with rather large gravel and was plenty wide enough for two way travel. The first sign I saw was a mile marker that read 158. Yep the old man was right 160 kms equal 100 miles. Other signs were posted warning of unimproved road conditions and large logging truck traffic, but the one that really got my attention was a sign warning of wild animals. That’s when it struck me that I am getting pretty far north. Bears and wolves are plentiful up here, especially when you are in their habitat.
In about two kilometers the road became smoother and the gravel a more manageable size. I noticed several camp roads leading away for the first 10 kilometers and then they ended. I assume they led to a lake. This road was much better than I expected but I hoped it would get tougher.



The Savage was handling the gravel pretty good. It was best to hold a steady throttle and keep a light grip on the bars, let the front end wander slightly on its own under acceleration. The toughest sections were coasting downhill where the front end wanted to plough. I was warned to keep a lookout for logging trucks as they drive as if they are the only ones on the road, so I had to keep way to the right at hills and corners. The first vehicle I saw was a company pick up truck that sent a cloud of dust my way for what seemed like minutes. I hadn’t realized it before but I discovered gravel berms on both sides of the road and the smoothness of the road could only mean PV50 had very recently been graded. The road was not difficult, but instead boring. There was no scenery to speak of other than endless forest. Pretty flat as well with nary a scape.  I forged on wanting to keep my promise of traversing 75 kilometers but after 45kms it became apparent this was not to be the adventure I was seeking. I had been misfortuned by a road grader. I did however come across a power line and its parallel trail. I followed the trail up a steep incline but after banging my crankcase a second time on loose shale, I remembered a previous lesson I learned about having to make it all the way home on the same bike I’m riding.


Busting a hole in the crankcase or breaking a belt is fatal but even busting a lever can be an unnecessary problem. I turn back, still please that I accepted the challenge but disappointed in my antagonist. I returned a short distance and shut off Black Betty to give us both a rest. I stood in the middle of that road with my hands on my hips slowly turning 360 degrees and I am struck by the sheer silence. It is truly a rare moment to be outdoors and to know deafness. It strikes me that of all the roads to travel on in North America, this is where I want to be. The last time I had a sensation like this I was high atop the Sierra Nevada range on a DR350 with only the sound of the wind.
Time to revisit my friend at the Vault, he’s such a worrier. When I turn my key on I see no dash lights. I stab the starter and Betty comes to idle. I turn on the signals and they flash but the dash indicators don’t light. Hah, problem #2 for this trip. Another pretty easy fix, the wiring harness to the gas tank has unplugged. Actually I shouldn’t be too surprised considering the washboard like roads I’m on. I grab my windshield and it is loose as well. I do a quick walk around inspection and aside from my saddlebags badly canting to port I make my way back to camp. I will go over Betty in the morning.