Wrights On A Mission

Cold Rain, Divine Appointments, and the Comfort of God
455 Miles | Hinton, Alberta to Sikanni River, British Columbia
The alarm sounded at 5:30 a.m. It was a brisk 45°F outside, and I had absolutely no desire to leave the warmth of my cozy sleeping bag. But we had more than 455 miles to cover today, and the forecast wasn’t looking promising. We packed up camp, loaded the bikes, and were back in the saddle by 7:30 a.m.
As we left Hinton, the majestic Canadian Rockies continued to paint the horizon to our left. Their beauty was breathtaking, but we didn’t get very far before the rain began. It would follow us for nearly the entire day.
Heading north on Highway 40, we rode through steady rain until reaching our first fuel stop in Grande Cache. Along the way we were treated to incredible wildlife sightings—a black bear, a silver fox, and several deer. Even in miserable weather, God’s creation never ceases to amaze us.
At the gas station, we met a local man traveling with his daughter. He was on his way to Alaska while she was heading back home. We grabbed coffee and breakfast, and while we warmed up, we had a wonderful conversation with Ashlie, who worked at the convenience store. She shared stories of traveling throughout Europe with her husband. In return, we shared our mission and gave her one of our Gospel tracts, explaining that our purpose on this journey is to share the Good News with everyone God places in our path.
Although the rain had stopped in Grande Cache, it wasn’t long before we found ourselves riding straight into another wall of dark clouds. For several more hours we rode through cold rain, with temperatures never climbing above 50°F.
When we finally reached Grande Prairie, we desperately needed fuel—and even more, we needed a chance to get out of the rain and warm up. There we met Marvin, a local oilfield worker. Melvin shared a “What Would Jesus Ride?” tract with him, and Marvin eagerly shared his testimony.
He told us about a time in his life when he knew something had to change. He had been living a hard life until he crossed paths with a man who had witnessed to him before. That man gave him a cassette tape of a preacher. After listening to it, Marvin knew it was time to become a follower of Jesus.
Inspired by our mission, Marvin reached into his wallet, took out all the cash he had, and handed it to us. “Use this to bless people you meet along the way,” he said.
What an incredible blessing it was to meet him.
While at the gas station, I also met Dalorie outside the ladies’ room. She encouraged us to stop at the Continental Divide Lodge farther north, where she had once worked as a waitress before a serious car accident left her with chronic back injuries.
Having survived a severe car accident myself, I shared how God had graciously healed me. We stood there together and prayed, asking God to bring healing and comfort into her life.
With our rain gear still soaked, we climbed back on the bikes and continued north through Dawson Creek, where we officially joined the Alaska Highway.
The next several hours seemed endless.
Cold rain pounded us while massive logging trucks and oil trucks passed by, spraying muddy water over us until we were completely soaked and covered in grime. It was physically exhausting.
We finally reached Pink Mountain, only about twenty minutes from our planned campground. I was completely spent. I simply didn’t have another mile in me.
Instead, we stopped at a small roadside hotel and restaurant that had a wonderfully authentic Canadian feel. There was one waitress, one cook, and two men repairing a walk-in cooler. We ordered burgers and fries, grateful for a hot meal.
Soon an older gentleman from the hotel joined us for dinner. We struck up a conversation, and Melvin shared a copy of The Life and Teachings of Jesus with him.
Remembering Marvin’s generosity from earlier that day, I used some of the money he had given us to bless our waitress. Along with the gift, I gave her a Gospel tract and shared the story of our mission. She was deeply touched that a complete stranger would show her such kindness.
Marvin’s blessing was already being passed along.
After dinner, we finished the final twenty minutes to Sikanni River Campground. It was still raining when we arrived, and we were simply too wet and exhausted to pitch a tent. We asked if they happened to have a cabin available.
By God’s grace, they had exactly one left.
What a relief it was to have a warm, dry place to spend the night.
After unloading our soaked gear to dry, we walked back to the camp store for a well-deserved ice cream cone. There we met Jerry and Genny, who have worked at the campground for the past three years.
As we talked, I noticed a tattoo on Genny’s arm and asked about it. She quietly explained that it was a portrait of her son, who had taken his own life.
In that moment, I knew without a doubt that God had led us there for a reason.
We shared that we, too, had lost our daughter to suicide just last year.
Instantly there was a bond between us—one that only parents who have experienced such heartbreaking loss can fully understand. We talked, we encouraged one another, and we shared God’s love and comfort.
It was one of those sacred moments that reminds us this journey is about so much more than motorcycles and miles.
Jerry and Genny will forever remain in our hearts and prayers.
As 8:00 p.m. approached, we said our goodbyes and returned to our warm cabin. Our bodies were sore from nearly 500 miles in cold rain, and fatigue had completely set in. After a hot shower, we settled into our nightly routine of charging batteries, uploading footage, and writing today’s blog.
Days like this test you physically, mentally, and spiritually. But they also remind us that even in the cold rain, God is always at work. Every stop, every conversation, every unexpected delay becomes another opportunity to share His love.
God truly is the God of all comfort and peace.