Where2next?

The Fraser and Thompson canyons from Yale downstream to Spences Bridge upstream are littered with location names that end in Bar: Boston, China and Sailors Bar to name a few. But it wasn't until today when I was reviewing the history of the Fraser River Gold Rush of 1858 when 30,000 miners flooded into the canyons that I understood the significance of this moniker. The g old miners here search for placer gold hidden in the alluvial sand and gravels deposits through which the rivers have cut, and this material is then washed and sorted by weight by the action of the water. The heavy gold settles out on the gravel bars in the river, hence the need for the miners to name each for reference to the claims. "In the riffles, behind the rocks. That's where you find the gold." So says Doug who has mined these gravel bars for most of his seventy years. "Once I found a nugget. A 7.49 ounce nugget about yea big," spreading his fingers an 11/2 apart. "That did i...

Unstable winter weather conditions don't allow us the same freedom to overnight where we find ourselves, therefore, I have plotted a nine-day route through our old friends the mountains with alternate routes from each night's rest spot in case of snowfall. We have no trouble driving in snow but snow covered steep grades put us in unnecessary danger. Carl loves t o chase trains from one scenic view to another, so we begin where we landed at the west end of the Fraser Canyon on December 19th. May I never forget the sheer joy of putting on my sandals in Hope and walking on bare road edged with sword fern and moss in balmy temperatures. We christen our journey with a soak in the Harrison hot spring pool before finding a camp spot on Seabird Island just east of Agassiz where the sound of speeding freight trains and highway trucks lull us to sleep. The full moon is upon us and starshine like tiny rents in the fabric of heaven let the glory of God shine through. Eyelets of azur...

We are making a last visit to the sea by taking a drive around Washington's Olympic Peninsula. It is this land that we see from White Rock BC and the southern tip of Vancouver Island, so we are going to take a closer look.  Arbitus and gorse bush, cedar and fir. Sedum clinging to the fissures in the granite. Chuckanut Summit drive is stunning with ocean vistas at every curv e, and century old concrete bridges spanning burbling mountain streams. In contrast, near Oak Harbour the constant growl of Air Force jets passing overhead spoils the pastoral setting of the nearly one hundred year old Fort Casey now a conference centre for Seattle Pacific University. The heartbeat of the ocean keeps me company through the wee small hours. As we travel through the Olympia Mountains, it is disconcerting to be driving uphill and hear the engine labouring while my eyes tell me we are traveling downhill. What a dichotomy; cars carrying snowboards, skis and surfboards. In the quaint ship-buildin...

At the beginning of 2014, when I realized that for many reasons I was losing the ability to walk, I fought back by finding myself a place to live that looked out on the beauty and power of Lake Superior. I was determined that if I had to sit, I would enjoy the view. When Carl was ready to join me, we decided to make full-time RVing our lifestyle. I now have numerous choices  of indoor positions with a view, the vistas change as often as we wish and I have endless opportunities for short walks accompanied by my canine companion and supervised by my human partner. This morning I throw open the window by my bed and lean on the windowsill to watch the first light of dawn pinken the peaks at the far end of Seton Lake. The water is an unearthly shade of turquoise, made so by rock flour in the glacial melt, and as the sun brightens the mountains the colours comes alive in shades of emerald and jade. This beauty is so profound that it draws a visceral response from my body; I want to ...

"It is a breakaway!" Carl and I decided to take advantage of the sunny weather and go off adventuring. There is only so much time one can spend in the congested living conditions of the Lower Mainland before we need space around us. We start off tamely enough with a drive up the Fraser Valley through Hope where Manny and I hike a bit of Forest Service Road in the snow. T hen a bit more rugged when we pull out for the night beside a little no-name waterfall that tumbles into Fraser Canyon. On both sides of the river, train tracks cling to the steep walls so we can listen as trains run all through the sleeping hours. Rested and full of the excitement of being out on the road again, we choose a route we have never taken before. Just above Lytton and the confluence of the Thompson and Fraser rivers, a cable reaction ferry hauls vehicles from the east to the west side of the wide(even at low water) Fraser River. While waiting for the ferrymen to return for us, we are treated ...

Snow prickles against the windows at midnight and sparkles in the sunlight at dawn. Snow swirls from rooftops in pale clouds and slides from cars in slushy globs. Snow outlines each bare branch, then melts and hangs in crystal pendants from each branch tip. Children who rarely experience snow dance about making footprint trails, collecting it from the evergreen boughs and launching it at each other. But best of all, finally, the coastal mountains are frosted with snow. I fell in love with the mountains the first time I stepped from the CN Transcontinental train onto the Jasper platform and met the Rockies. I was a final year high school student on my way to Vancouver traveling with Mrs Kahara's Finnish language class. Our choir "Vahan Erilainen" was scheduled to perform at the Surjuhlat Festival 1974 and our class planned to interview Finnish people who had settled the coastal community of Sointula. We saw and did a great many things but it was the mighty mountains maj...

As an antidote to a very stupid decision that has left me with bruised ribs, Manny and I meandered through the trails and wetlands of the Semiahmoo Fish and Game Association property. Everything is so green; the moss and lichens, the ferns, the rapidly leafing out of the shrubs and trees. There are many guideposts along the trail that name and describe the vegetation and a lso historic photos of the Halls Prairie area. The clubhouse is a popular venue for celebrations and has manicured grounds around it where today crocus, primrose and dwarf iris bloom. This group also raises steelhead trout and coho salmon at their on-site hatchery which are released into the Campbell River. The year and a half old coho smolts are rising to the surfaced of their pond and leaping for joy in the sunshine. It makes me happy just to watch them. In another month they will enter the river and make their way to the sea where they will feed and grow for another eighteen months before returning here to...