The Tail That Wagged the Dog of our BC Trip: UBC in Vancouver

Posted on October 12, 2025 by gretchenwing

No, The Mate and I were not touring a college campus in a fit of nostalgia for our parenting days. We had someone to visit.

No, Oliver–Ollie to his friends, which we now are!–did not invite us to Vancouver. But Ollie’s “dad”, a former student of The Mate’s, now practically family–just took an important job @ UBC. Apart from all the other good reasons to, um, get away to Canada just now…we couldn’t WAIT to come visit and see firsthand the new Canadian life of our friends.

But of course we HAD to wait. Bust in on a newly-hired student dean in the first week of his new job? Eh…we’ll go visit Bella Coola and Vancouver Island and come back, OK?

So we did that (see 2 previous posts). Now: UBC.

Thanks to their University connections (and their small apartment), our friends housed us in UBC’s own on-campus hotel.

View of campus, from up on the 8th floor!

In case you don’t know–as I did not–UBC is ENORMOUS. 60,000 undergrads, 30,000 grads. A beautiful tapestry of (mostly youthful) humanity to walk through every morning. We only had two days, but I made the most of it, re-visiting two sites I’d spent time in, lo, nearly 30 years ago, when I took our small kids up to Vancouver for a visit.

I well remembered their famous Anthropology Museum…

A wry note: on a nearby trashcan I found these words spray-painted: “Land Back!”

Back then, since my kids’ museum stamina lasted barely an hour (and frankly, that’s about all I can usually manage before sloowwwwing dowwwwwnnn), we went outside to explore. Found a mysterious staircase disappearing down the side of a forested bluff.

“Ooh, where does this lead?” It led to a nude beach–right on the edge of campus! I was so impressed by that, I had to see if the place was still there.

Of course, being brand-new British Columbians, our friends were as eager to explore Vancouver’s environs as we were. So we planned a half-day trip up the road to the town of Squamish, which is halfway between the city and the Whistler ski area. But that description doesn’t do the place justice.

Hopefully this does. The parking lot just shows how integrated this mountain is to the town.

We didn’t do much there–just ate lunch, took a walk to the base of the inlet…

Mountain. Construction lot. Inlet. Y’know, just regular town stuff.

…remembering to turn around occasionally to appreciate the town’s background:

…and noticing inviting little quirks, like this sign:

Don’t know if this will be the death of that cute little town or just its next iteration, but I do have to note the presence of an ENORMOUS development of apartments (or condos?) just getting going, behind this pretty mural…

CanNOT blame anyone who wants to live here!

Back in Vancouver, we spent one last evening with our friends, feeling SUCH gratitude for being able to sip from their overflowing, British Columbian cup.

Yeah, Ollie, you kind of are. But I feel like I should close this final B.C. post with something a little more…conclusive-feeling, eh?

So that’s it for BC, this time around! The Mate & I are applying for Nexus, though, so we can travel back & forth more often to see ~~Ollie~~ our friends.

Next up: join me for (click here) another stint of purple-state canvassing with Common Power!

Disappearing Waterfalls and September Blackberries on Vancouver (“The Other Big Island”) Island

Posted on October 3, 2025 by gretchenwing

You’re halfway up Vancouver Island. You only have a few days before heading back to the mainland–not enough time to get out to the Wild West Coast, nor down to Victoria. Where do you go?

This is Englishman Falls Provincial Park, just a hop & skip off the main highway between Campbell River and Nanaimo. And yes, that disappearing waterfall is even more insane in real life. Here’s what it looks like face-on:

…and from the top, just above the drop:

Who, me? Just a boring old clear Canadian river…

That little park was one of several blips on the map of east-central Vancouver Island that, in classic Canadian fashion, fail to call attention to themselves…until you are standing there with your jaw a-drop.

Campbell River–the actual river for which the town is named–is dammed, but not only does it offer the salmon a big side-channel to bypass the dam, it provides guardians for those fish on their passage:

Not as good as a wild, free river–but way better than nothing

Further inland, Strathcona Provincial Park certainly shows up on the map, but this little waterfall? We only found it when directed there by a volunteer docent we happened to meet.

No one else was around. Just me and that pool.

We’d intended to camp in Strathcona, but the weather went sideways. No problem backpacking in the rain, but wet car camping? That just feels stupid. So we got in a short hike…

(I can just imagine that trail repair crew going, “Eh…good enough! Let ’em climb.”)

(forcing myself to resist the biggest Chicken-of-the-Woods mushrooms I’ve ever seen!)

…and rode our bikes along the 14-mile long (and unfortunately-named) Buttle Lake…

…before heading back to Campbell River, where we’d scored one of those cheap hotel deals at a NOT-cheap hotel, Painter’s Lodge.

as seen from the lodge’s dock, at very low tide

On that dock we found this map–WONDERFULLY helpful for orienting ourselves in BC’s bewildering array of islands:

Not our usual type of stay, but we took full advantage. Especially because the part we stayed in seemed to be a mashup of our last name & our favorite BC island:

Of course the rain stopped when we got there. But then it came back. Phew.

Luckily for us, they let us cook our cheeseburgers out in the patio area!

“This counts as camping, right?” (Quadra Island in the background)

Our last day, after those amazing Englishman Falls, we found a very cool bike path–along the highway, yes, but screened by bushes & trees, with plenty of curves and hills giving it a very adventurous feel.

Some of those bushes had blackberries on them, and I was shocked at how sweet they still were, in September! So: lunch.

Peanut Butter, Honey & Blackberry Sammy!

Our final night on the Big Island (move over, Hawai’i–actually, never mind, you’re already pretty far over) we spent in Nanaimo, in order to catch our ferry next morning. I walked all over, discovering the best kind of quirks, like this Flower Wall:

Just an apartment building, far as I could tell

Along with flowers, Nanaimo boasted its own poster-of-random affirmations, because I found a number of these type of signs, here and there:

Next week, the exciting BC conclusion: University of! Thanks for riding along.

(Re)Discovering BC’s Discovery Islands: Quirky Quadra, Cordial Cortes

Posted on September 26, 2025 by gretchenwing

Actually, Cortes Islanders would probably prefer that “quirky” label, while we found Quadrans (Quadrants?) plenty cordial. Either way, both islands, between BC’s mainland and big Vancouver Island, became big highlights of our British Columbia wanderings in 2018, and we were overjoyed to wander back.

With a week to spend, between our Bella Coola adventures and our visit with our friends in Vancouver, we headed over to Horseshoe Bay for the big ferry to Nanaimo. BC ferries are SO nice. And, unlike Washington State’s they run on time. And they actually run! (#ferryEnvy).

In Horseshoe Bay I was thrilled to see a healthy batch of young purple sea stars.

Since these critters have been suffering through a terrible die-off in the Salish Sea, I was super encouraged by these guys.

…and super thrilled by these Horseshoe Bay treats: seriously the best doughnut I’ve ever eaten!

After our 90-minute ride to Nanaimo, we drove a couple of hours north to Campbell River for groceries, then a much shorter crossing on a much smaller boat to Quadra Island. The We-Wai-Kai Campsite there is run by the First Nations People of the same name. Pleasant place, and pleasantly close to Rebecca Spit, a Provincial Park perfect for short bike rides and strolling.

Why do we call long, skinny points of land “spits”? Anyone?

Much of Quadra, we came to remember, is a bit steep for biking, at least for a couple whose combined age is edging close to 143 years. Since we’d be passing back from Quadra automatically on our return from Cortes…

(Courtesy Wikimedia) Ferry goes: Vancouver Is. to Quadra, then from the opposite side of QI to Cortes

…we put a pin on some hikes for our return , and headed over to our old Cordial friend…

On this 40-minute ride (reminiscent of our Lopez Island commute), we were treated to a pair of humpback whales. (Too far for good photos, but great views through binoculars.)

For our picnic lunch, we defaulted back to Manson’s Landing, remembered from 7 years ago.

Such healthy-looking tidal creatures! No sea stars…

…but I’ll settle for sand dollars. Worth every sand penny.

This trip, instead of springing for the extraordinary, but expensive Hollyhock Retreat Center, The Mate and I stayed in a modest motel with a kitchen. It was a stone’s throw from a set of community trails we’d missed last time…

…not to mention an enormous, clear lake, shallow & warm enough for real swimming.

That huge log and those background cliffs, speak of Cortes’ drama. But its Friday Market, complete with music, homemade treats and upcycled clothing, speaks of its community. “Cordial” indeed. I didn’t want to interrupt the vibe by taking photos.

Next day, The Mate and I went for a hike to immerse ourselves in more natural drama. Not only did we find that same “saltwaterfall” that astounded me in 2018…

…we found purple sea stars! So many healthy specimens!

Recovering from Pisaster Disaster (#LatinNamePun)

Returning to Quadra–the ferry workers kindly squeeeeeezed us onto the boat–

…we determined to find an extra-special way to spend the day, because it was our wedding anniversary.

First we found a fairly level hike to a lake; later, we drove to a deserted cove for another picnic. I could write a whole blog post about Peanut Butter & Honey sandwiches…

…but I won’t. This maple leaf caught my eye, though–emblematic of all the Canadian flags we saw flying across BC (#IWouldTooIfIWereThem)

We’d hoped to spend our anniversary night at the sweet inn we stayed in in 2018, but they were full. So we settled for dinner there.

Meanwhile–on that quirkiness question? Look what we found lurking around the parking lot of our Quadra motel!

There were about a dozen of these, obviously by the same artist who made that campground whale…

…not quite life-size, but close! That’s a LOT of driftwood.

The final piece of “quirk” that caught my eye on Quadra was this sign outside an ice cream parlor:

When you consider that Bowie died in January 2016…well…hard to argue w/ this, eh?

Thanks for traveling along! Next time: back to the Big Island–Canadian version. Keep those maple leaves flying!

BC x 3: Bella Coola in British Columbia in Beautiful Canada

Posted on September 19, 2025 by gretchenwing

For those of you who read my 2023 post on the various meanings of “BC”–don’t worry, I won’t subject you to more of that. I just couldn’t resist a nod to one more extraordinary BC discovery.

Since The Mate & I learned that a close friend got an amazing admin job at UBC in Vancouver–just up the road from us–we’ve been itching to go visit. Of course, since said friend’s job is just starting, we realized we needed to give him a little time before popping by…but by then our fires were lit. Maps were out. Venues were calling.

Yes, that’s a glacier, as seen from an airplane. I’ll explain.

Bella Coola is accessible three ways: by ferryboat–if you go to Vancouver Island, drive all the way up to Port Hardy, and ride the ferry for 16 hours. By car–if you drive 350 miles north from Vancouver, then turn left and drive another 250, 60 of which is gravel, including a super-sketchy portion known as “The Hill.”

photo courtesy Wikimedia, by some driver braver than I am!

Or you can fly. That’s the option we chose, and, despite the expense, we were SO glad we did. The sight of so many still-healthy-looking glaciers filled me with joy (despite my very scratchy window). And our descent…!!!

Not for the faint of heart…but worth the ticket if you love thrills. And peaks.

I grabbed this shot of the cockpit of our 20-seater plane, just to show the narrowness of the valley we descended into:

Green = safe. Yellow = LOOKOUTFORTHATMOUNTAIN!!!

Once down, The Mate and I looked around, then looked at each other and said the same thing: “Didn’t we just see this in Yosemite?”

Only this is no national park; this is where folks LIVE. That building? It’s an elementary school.

The town of Bella Coola is at one end of a loooooong inlet, giving way to a looooong, skinny valley, which ends in Tweedsmuir Provincial Park, and The Hill. One thing we quickly realized: with so little flat ground, hiking trails for our aging bodies were somewhat limited. But we managed.

This one included extra perks: suspension bridge, whee!

A couple of them I did alone, like Lost Lake:

But we didn’t let the lack of long hikes interfere with our awe and delight about the place, from large features…

…to small:

I even got to enjoy a fun cultural scavenger hunt, thanks to a Lopez Island friend who told me her Norwegian great-grandpa was buried at a Lutheran church in Bella Coola. I told her I’d try to find his grave, but all I found was an old-looking church, not Lutheran, with no cemetery, and this (closed) cultural center:

“Sorry,” I told my friend, “I’ll keep looking.” But meanwhile–forget humans, we had bears to find! September is full salmon-run season, so we hoped to see both fish, and fishing bears. Not in the Bella Coola River, which is thick with glacial silt…

…but in its clearer tributaries. Nor were we disappointed.

Salmon on the left: alive. Huge, upside-down salmon in the center: Thank you for your service. RIP.

Our first morning, we drove Up Valley to Tweedsmuir PP, and were promptly rewarded by seeing a pretty black fox (not pictured; I was driving), followed by a mama bear with 2 cubs.

I managed to pull over fast enough to capture Cub #2, following her fam into the forest.

The best bear-viewing spot, that first morning, yielded no bears.

Still a pretty good spot to hang out. No complaints!

But the next morning, as everyone was looking upriver at the most obvious fishing spot, a gravel bank, I happened to glance the other direction and spotted this fella, soundlessly swimming from OUR side of the river.

I repeat: he was on OUR side. Just behind us.

We all did like this person here, and activated our cameras. Most of what I took were videos–I wanted to capture sound and movement–but I did get a few stills (apologies for my lack of zoom).

Pointy ears; no hump; flat face = Black, not grizzly. Still a big guy!

Actually, during the salmon run, it’s obvious the bears have zero interest in attacking humans. Nice, oily fish are what they crave. What a gift, to be able to sit and watch them move, without feeling like we should be backing away.

We saw one other bear during our 4 days in the valley. But plenty of other wonders too, especially when we signed up for a boat tour…which also, surprise! solved the mystery of my friend’s great-grampa’s missing grave.

Our boat captain was full of history, with photos. Turns out the Norwegian families who arrived in the late 1800s built their settlement at the north end of the inlet…I’m guessing to get as far away as possible from the Nuxalk People who lived there.

See the old settlement? Nope. Because it’s gone.

Joke was on the white folks. In 1936, about 40 years after building their settlement, the Norwegians saw the whole place flooded away and destroyed by a king tide. All they could save was their church, which they pushed with canoes over to the road, then carried Up Valley…where it sits today.

No longer Lutheran, and no cemetery, but this was the church I’d been looking at! I was able to share this story with my friend, both of us agreeing her forebear’s bones now rest “full fathom five” in the inlet.

Capt. Daniel also stopped at the site of the Norwegians’ old school, explaining how the kids had to hike along the bluffs above the inlet twice a day to attend.

Far left: site of old school. Far right, not quite in the frame: site of village where kids lived. Yikes.

Capt. Daniel, by the way, had the most awesome First Mate: Buck, the Golden Retriever.

When we arrived at a site, no ramp was lowered: Daniel simply butted the prow against any handy rock…

…and off we clambered. Gingerly.

Our first stop was a hot spring. Have you ever sat in one that didn’t smell like sulphur? We hadn’t. It was MAGNIFICENT.

The big curvy thing above me is a cedar branch.

Here’s the view from Nature’s Best Hot Tub:

Wait. Is that First Mate Buck, asleep on the job?

When we got to the next drop-off site, our guides stayed in their roles: Daniel dropped us off and went fishing; Buck led us to the Big Cedar Tree.

Seriously. Not a guide dog–a dog guide.

Turns out Buck knew the way, all right.

“You’re not even capturing the whole tree in this frame.”

How about this?

Oh, that boat trip. We had waterfalls…

…ancient Nuxhalk pictographs…

That’s supposed to be a person. Telling visitors this land is OCCUPIED, thanks.

…and more glaciers, this time from below.

Before we left the valley, we spent some time in and around the town of Bella Coola itself, where the Nuxhalk culture felt pretty vibrant, at least to us outsiders.

I only wish I could have learned to pronounce that.

A nearby grove of cedars, some ancient, bears the marks of age-old cultural harvesting, both bark…

…and even wood, all without damaging the tree:

The last two days of our trip, the wind shifted and the valley grew smoky. We learned of uncontrolled wildfires to the east; Rt. 20 (The Hill) was closed. When it came time to fly out, this time we stopped in the tiny town of Anahim Lake, and got a good look at the fire-threatened sky for ourselves:

Not pictured: the ash falling from the sky

So after that sobering glimpse of what our planet’s facing, it was doubly gratifying and relieving to see those glaciers from above.

Restraining myself from quoting Robert Frost here…I’ll just say, “Hang in there.”

Next up: More BC! Islands, this time–the littler ones. Thanks for coming along.

New England to New Scotland, Part II: “A Moose and a Whale at the Same Time”

Posted on June 14, 2025 by gretchenwing

That’s what we were told we might see, driving the Cabot Trail around Cape Breton. As it happened, we saw neither. But in our week up there, we never stopped believing we might.

Here’s why:

To left: whale habitat. Center: moose habitat (and The Mate). To right: the road.

For this part of the journey, having said goodbye to Son One and our New England cuzzies, we flew to Halifax, rented a campervan, and drove to Cape Breton Highlands National Park.

For those who followed my saga about Vanna Grey–this is a touch ironic

Here are a few nutshell things we learned about Cape Breton:

It’s actually an island above the lower half of Nova Scotia (where Halifax is)

2. One crosses onto that island via (sadly undramatic) causeway, not–as I’d expected–a bridge.

3. It’s home to more fiddlers, per capita, than anywhere in the world (unverified, but I enjoy thinking this!)

4. The authorities there have decided that the moose population has grown too large, threatening to eat down the forests, thus they have culled them…making moose sightings much rarer than they used to be. (sad for us, and the locals we spoke to weren’t very happy about it either)

Closest we got to a moose was this huge, fresh print in the mud. (We also saw some poop, but you don’t need to)

The coastline is quite different on the west side than the east, and the center is also quite distinct. So let me break it down photographically. Two things we did see everywhere: blooming serviceberry…

…and tea-colored water, colored, I understand, by the tannins in the bogs that dominate the center of the island (and the whole province).

That combination really struck us on our first west-side hikes.

See what I mean about that serviceberry?

The western coastline is STEEP, with few roads down to the water. So we mostly viewed it from above.

If you’re wondering about the brown, keep in mind: end of May is still VERY early spring up there. The hardwoods were just beginning to leaf out.

Ditto the ferns. You can tell this area was under snow pretty recently.

Oh, and did I mention the fog?

Here, BTW, you can see an example of a moose-munched forest. Not much there!

Speaking of fog…

looking back down on our road, from the Skyline Trail

The inland part of Cape Breton looked, to me, like Alaskan taiga (stunted forest) or tundra (no forest at all).

When I’ve shown folks this picture, their response has been, “Wow–it looks so dry!” Nope. Very wet. Just not leafed out yet.

blueberry plants growing in thick reindeer lichen

On to the east coast of the island. If the center is Alaska-esque, we thought the east coast looked like Maine:

And those brown creeks make such a contrast there!

This is my favorite picture from the whole trip.

Closeup of that granite:

We also explored some beautiful inland lakes on the east side…

…starting with this sweet little crossing of the headwaters.

This one shows off the best combo: pink sand, strong-tea water, and a great grey giant from the past:

Speaking of the moose we didn’t see…I’ve been totally remiss in discussing the wildlife we DID see! Like this black bear (don’t get too excited–it was mostly visible through binocs):

That black dot in the very center of the shot? Bear. (I did warn you it wasn’t close.)

We also encountered a couple of bunnies, which, we realized by their coloring, were actually Arctic Hares still transitioning from their winter whites.

Our favorite hike followed this skinny spit sticking out into the big blue Atlantic:

Ok, not blue yet…wait till the sun comes out…

That’s a little better. But keep your eye on that boat…

The lobster fishermen were busy while we were there, and they got so close we were job-shadowing them from shore!

Literally. I was counting their catch as they hauled it up.

Our last day on Cape Breton Island, we spent on the detached, southeastern part (see map above, near the town of Sydney), which is an island itself…attached by the briefest ferry ride we’ve ever been on:

Any decent ballplayer could throw across this gap! It took less than a minute to cross. Must be cheaper to maintain than a bridge…?

Over there, as the weather chilled down, The Mate & I did something we do very rarely on our trips together: we visited a museum. Make that a LIVING museum, Fort Louisborg.

Did I mention it’s still late May? Apparently nothing much gets going in Nova Scotia till June. We had the place mostly to ourselves.

Built by the French in 1713. Captured by the English. Recaptured by the French. Then finally destroyed by the Brits…all in about 50 years! Oh–and then rebuilt by the Canadian Government in the 1960s. The WHOLE thing.

This lady used the word “we” when describing the French. Good job, Madame.

I commented on how commodious these bunks looked…and was told by a chap in a soldier costume, “We’re three to a bed, you know.”

After a week of leisurely wandering–the whole Cape being smaller than I’d expected, so we never had far to drive–we headed back to “mainland” Nova Scotia. First, we enjoyed this rare east-coast sunset over the ocean, from Cape Canso:

Wait–how’d the ocean get onto the west side???

Then, the obligatory lighthouse, in Antigonish:

pronounced Auntie-gon-ISH, we learned…very Scots!

On our last day, we explored Halifax. They have their own Citadel there, in the center of the city…

…but we had had our fill of forts, so we just peeked over the fence, then spent our time walking from waterfront…

…to public gardens…

Too cute! (no, I don’t just mean The Mate)

…enjoying Halifax’s many murals…

…and back to our hotel, which was full of Europeans.

On our ride to the airport next morning, our cab driver told us he never picked up Americans from that hotel, which made us oddly happy.

We headed home with mixed emotions. On the one hand: Canada has NEVER felt as safe and alluring as it does now, and I’m sure I needn’t explain that statement.

On the other: HOME!

I’m sure I needn’t explain that statement either.

BC, Canada = Back to Campering? Best Campsite? Or just Be Cool?

Posted on September 15, 2024 by gretchenwing

Maybe I should drop the whole finding-a-better-meaning-for-the-initials-BC thing. It’s called British Columbia, Gretchen. Get over it–and get on with your blog post.

We took Vanna back to BC. ~~Because we Could.~~

This was what our departure looked like, ferrying east from Lopez Island:

If that red sunrise was a bad omen, it was a day late. We’d actually tried to leave the day before, but a) missed the 6:15 ferry b/c we didn’t realize how many trucks depart the island on Thursdays, leaving few overheight spaces for our tall Vanna Grey, and b) they cancelled the 9:30.

So we awarded ourselves a “free day” at home and had one fewer day in BC. ~~Best Choice.~~

We went straight to a park we’ve usually passed by on our way to the better-known Jasper National Park: Mt. Robson Provincial Park. Named for the tallest of the Canadian Rockies.

Fun fact: Mt. Robson’s glaciers are rare “live” glaciers, meaning they are growing rather than retreating. Go Mt. Rob! Go ice!

Despite our campsite’s thick shelter of trees, we still had a view of the mountain’s peak:

There’s really only one MAIN hike in the park, so, saving it for our longer day, we spent our first afternoon checking out the falls of the Fraser River. Hard to believe something this bright becomes the familiar brown body of water passing by Vancouver.

Oh, this old thing? It’s just something I threw on.

The weather was dry and hot (for Canada, and for The Mate & me), but that didn’t stop the mushrooms.

Too late in the season for most wildflowers–but I did manage to find a few ripe thimbleberries to add to my yogurt.

Mt. Robson appeared to soaked up all the sun he could; can you blame him?

“I mean, it’s probably gonna rain tomorrow…”

Next day we headed up the trail, following the Robson River to its source, Kinney Lake.

That incredible mountain seemed to follow us every step of the trail, even in what seemed like a pretty dense forest. I guess it’s just THAT tall (just shy of 13,000 ft…close to Mt. Rainier height!).

Up top, the trail skirts the lake in ridiculously postcardy vistas.

It was hard to make ourselves turn around and go back down. But even more impressive to follow that wild river, imagining the calm from which it came.

After two full days at Mt. Rob, we headed back south on the Yellowhead Highway (5), stopping to check out the small part of enormous Wells Gray Prov. Park that’s accessible to a big van.

Can I just say, it’s worth seeing? These falls are barely 10 miles from the highway.

Wells Gray’s campground was on a rougher road that we wanted to drive Vanna on, so we opted for a private site down below, in the town of Clearwater.

Next, we left the boreal forest behind, heading back into BC’s dry region, in the rain shadow of the coastal mountains, west of Kamloops. Some of it bore signs of last year’s terrible wildfires.

I believe the word I’m looking for is “stark.”

Not only did we score a campsite at a rafting company that was preparing to close for the season, but the owner let us camp for free.

We had the place to ourselves…including our own personal canyon.

Yes, that’s the same Fraser River as in the waterfall shot, above. Getting a little darker…still blue enough.

Oh, and those trains? There are tracks on both sides, demonstrating the stubbornness of capitalists, as we learned from this sign:

Well, hey. It only took 100 years for us to learn to share.

Here’s where I should note that those trains did a mighty good job of keeping us company. All night. Both directions. ~~Bad Choice~~.

But how can you not choose your own personal canyon, at sunset?

Our last day, it was back to the wet: both in terms of ecosystem, and weather. We went to Hope, close to the US border, just an hour or so east of Vancouver. There we discovered an old friend: the Kettle Valley River rail-trail.

Unfortunately for us, construction work prevented us from riding all the way over to the Othello Tunnels, which we’d visited on a past trip. But Vanna took us there.

This kind of engineering brings to mind words like “chutzpah”…or “hubris.” Or: “really?”

In under a week, we were back home. Too short a trip? Not at all. Vanna’s whole raison d’etre in our lives these days is to keep us reminded what’s in our big backyard.

Better Closer. Back to Canada! By Choice.

Vancation Adventures, Part I: Taking Vanna Grey Where They Spell Her Name Correctly

Posted on June 7, 2024 by gretchenwing

Canada, that is—where the colour grey is spelt the English way. Especially in British Columbia.

Vanna and I both felt most at home–and so did Liza, my bike, who got to enjoy this view.

In the week following Memorial Day, The Mate and I had a nice free chunk of days between various commitments and appointments. Perfect timing to introduce Vanna to our favorite portion of North America…starting with a quick visit to the auto glass shop to fix her poor rear window.

I love when The Mate mows the lawn…but this time the mower threw out a chunk of gravel. Owie.

Heading for the eastern portion of the province, we crossed Washington’s Cascades and spent our first night in Twisp, right next to the Methow River.

Thanks to the window glass, it was late afternoon when we arrived, but also so windy we were just as happy to skip the bike ride we’d normally look forward to there.

Next morning, the Methow got its turn in the sun’s spotlight.

Crossing the border into Osoyoos, the gazillion not-yet-open fruit stands made us regret being there so early in the season. On the other hand, given the fires of recent summers, we felt just as happy to experience lush greenery and cooler temps around Penticton, a region we’d had to skip last fall due to…see the opening words of this sentence.

Our campsite above Lake Skaha used to be an apricot orchard, and the poor ol’ trees were still trying to leaf out.

We were happy to finally poke around Penticton, given its reputation as a bike-trail nexus.

They even have special traffic lights for bikes!!

The Kettle Valley River Trail goes right around Okanagan Lake, through town, and up the other shore…

…with fun add-ons like this trestle, traveling through vineyards…

…and this raven, guarding its throne:

Oh, and speaking of guarding: I also met this guy along the path:

when you’re rich enough to own your own house-sized T-Rex

Can I just say, Okanagan Lake is RIDICULOUS? 84 miles long (135 km), 2.5 – 3.1 miles wide (4-5 km)…it just goes and goes and goes. [thanks, Wikipedia]

Who wouldn’t want to sit and look? Pairs of red Adirondack chairs are kind of a Canadian thing. Haven’t looked that one up yet.

Midway up this endless, snaky lake is the town–city?–of Kelowna. It was very close to Ground Zero in last year’s fire, so we were glad to see it seemed to have survived…but we found it too big and trafficky for the vibe we were in. After riding a short piece of rail-trail, we got out of town. (Might go back in a non-Vanna-sized car someday; tons more trail there.)

[Not pictured: Kelowna traffic jam. But also not pictured, to be fair, the 3-foot long gopher snake we met on the bike path.]

One ridge over from Okanagan, though, is a lake we fell in love with last fall: Kalamalka. Also ringed by a bike path…but right along the shore, zero roads involved.

Tiny in comparison to the endless Okanagan, Kalamalka is twice as deep (over 400 feet in places) and famously color-changing (colour-changing) thanks to molecules from limestone deposits which are temperature-sensitive. I learned all this from a kiosk I had ridden past last year…but I was still more fascinated by the scenery along the ride.

Like this mama grebe and her grebelings. Greeblings? Greebettes? So CUTE.

The water’s so clear I even found myself taking pictures of fish.

But, just as last year, I found myself focused on the parkland across the water, which includes no campgrounds–day use only.

Instead, we spent the night in Dutch’s Campground, a funky old place at the head of the lake. Not a park–but for campering, just our speed.

Next morning broke drizzly but warm, and I was thrilled to finally experience the land across the lake I’d been staring at: Kalamalka Lake Provincial Park.

On the promontory, looking right back at the place from which I’d taken its picture the day before

SO satisfying to finally get in there and hike all through its uppy-downy trails.

From Kalamalka P.P. we turned right and headed straight east, reversing our route from last fall. Truth be told, any road driven in Vanna vs. our Toyota feels like a completely different road. (As in, “Who put all these curves and steep downgrades in here?!”)

The steepest downgrade–12 percent!–took us to the ferry across the Columbia. Did this last year, but it still weirds me out, ferrying over a river.

But we also stopped in places we skipped past last year. Like the town of Nakusp (na-CUSP).

Nakusp’s waterfront, along Arrow Lake (aka the Columbia, dammed up). To be fair, everything’s gorgeous in azalea season, right?

Travel Tip: wherever you go in Canada, look for the Information Centres. Even the smallest towns have them, and we’ve always found them to be staffed by the FRIENDLIEST, most helpful folks. Which might be redundant when describing Canadians.

Nakusp Info Centre–look for the yellow “i” on blue background.

At the RV campground in Nakusp, it wasn’t only the people who were friendly.

These gals were ready to hop right into Vanna!

[not pictured: Gretchen cleaning the floormats next morning from what we’d tracked in. Turns out camping around free-range chickens isn’t the best idea.]

Now in the Slocan River Valley, where we’d spent two nights last year, we treated ourselves to an easy walk along the rail-trail, digging the peace.

At the end of this day, we decided to treat ourselves to a night in a hotel, with restaurant food and everything. But I’ll catch up about that in my next installment, OK? Right now I’m going to leave you with these peaceful flowers (…and extra credit if you can name them for me, because Google apparently can’t).

British Columbia Road Trip, Part II: The Bestest, Closest Part

Posted on October 8, 2023 by gretchenwing

The second half of our BC road trip reminded me of that old children’s book, “Fortunately, Unfortunately.” Except the other way ’round.

Unfortunately, the mid-part of BC that we had to drive through, East-West from Revelstoke to Pemberton, is very dry (which is why it’s so vulnerable to wildfires).

Fortunately, it’s also lovely.

Unfortunately, when we got to Pemberton, so did the rain.

Fortunately, waterfalls don’t care much about rain.

And I thought this hole was just as intriguing as Nairn Falls.

Ditto for the mosses, and the river “potholes” in the rock!

Just above Pemberton is Joffre Lakes Prov. Park, which I’d heard was special, so I decided to make the drive up there. Unfortunately, this meant 20 miles up an evilly steep and twisty road. Fortunately, I learned ahead of time that you can’t even peek down the trail without an online reservation.

Unfortunately, it was still raining. But fortunately, that meant fewer people competing for reservations, so I was able to get one. (And they’re free.)

Unfortunately, the hike is STEEP. But fortunately…I’ll let the photos do the talking now.

Lil’ ol’ waterfall you pass on your way to Upper Lake

Holy cow, am I looking right at a glacier?!

Yep. Glacier. How else does that water get that color?

Unfortunately, I had to hike back down, and next day we had to leave BC and head homewards.

But fortunately, we hit a couple more pretty Provincial Parks on the way down Rt. 99, past Whistler, toward Vancouver: Brandywine Falls…

…which is also an easy hop-on spot for Canada’s exciting Sea to Sky multi-use trail.

Unfortunately the trail was a bit too steep and mountain-bikey for us,

but Fortunately walking your bike is good exercise…and it was still gorgeous!

Or make that “gorge-ous,” as in this one, which hosts a bungee-jumping bridge!

Unfortunately we accidentally drove past Garibaldi Prov. Park, one of the biggest in the province, because we didn’t think its raggedy access road could actually be the right road, and then turning around on the freeway got complicated.

But fortunately I got a nice consolation walk at Alice Lake, the definition of serenity:

So, yeah, unfortunately we finally had to leave “Beyond Compare” BC,

but fortunately I brought THIS image home with me, so I can transport myself with a glance…like right now.

O Canada–thanks for being! O BC–thanks for being the bestest, closest part to us!

We’ll be back whenever you’ll have us.

Canada’s BC: An Acronym in Search of Worthy Words

Posted on October 1, 2023 by gretchenwing

The Mate and I have always had a huge crush on British Columbia. We’ve meandered up the Sunshine Coast, used Harrison Hot Springs as a base camp for checking out multiple provincial parks, thrilled ourselves with the Discovery Islands, and last September, spent two weeks exploring the lower half of Vancouver Island. And that’s not even counting the many times we’ve driven through on our way to the Rockies, murmuring, “Why aren’t we stopping here?“

Pictured: “Here,” a.k.a. some throwaway lil’ waterfall along Rt. 23

This trip was all about stopping here. Not traveling too far in any direction. Going in circles, even. Exploring parks we’ve never heard of. All in the name of soaking up the wonders of a place that REALLY needs a better name.

Beautiful Coastline? Best Countryside?

We started in Manning Prov. Park, especially of interest to me because it’s the terminus of the Pacific Crest Trail, of which I’ve hiked many sections.

Since we were camped at Lightning Lakes, it seemed only fair to hike around them.

Bear Country? Bewitching Conifers?

The weather window started closing behind us at Manning, with snow predicted the next night, so we kept moving, down toward the flat(ter) Okanagan. We’d heard of the famous Kettle Valley rail trail, and in Princeton we did ride a section of it, but we also checked out trails in the community reserve of China Ridge, just above the town.

Thanks to the lovely woman at the Info Centre who sent us here! We’d never have found it.

The trails were more mountain-bikey than we usually ride, but we enjoyed our short stint up there.

Biking Country? Best Camping?

Next night we camped by the Kettle River, right where the rail trail crosses. Having had two rides that day, we just strolled some of it; the river was the best part. Notice the burned area in the back left? That’s from a 2015 fire. We were hyper-aware, this whole trip, of the fires still burning near Kelowna, and made sure to avoid the area.

Burning Cruelly? (unfortunately that “BC” could apply many place)

Following lovely Rt. 3 (the Crowsnest Highway) to Castlegar, we once again met up with the Kettle Valley River Trail, and rode another section…along the Columbia River. Yes, THE Columbia River–what we Washingtonians, and probably some Oregonians too, tend to think of as OUR Columbia River.

Horribly lowered by drought, dammed to within an inch of its life, clogged with industry…”Roll On, Columbia,” and good luck!

Behold Columbia? (That one at least makes some sense!)

After that ride, we swung north on little Rt. 6 to the tiny town of Slocan. We’d chosen Slocan because of its proximity to Valhalla Prov. Park, whose photos looked more national-park level than provincial.

Zooming in on Gibli Peak–gorgeous, but pretty inaccessible

But we soon discovered how hard it is to get INTO Valhalla.

It’s really a backpackers’ park, and we hadn’t come to backpack.

We ended up just hiking the bottom left portion of the lakeside trail, and that was PLENTY.

Big Cop-out? Maybe. But luckily for us, Slocan boasts its own rail-trail, which follows the Slocan River as it flows out of Slocan Lake.

Slocan itself is a sweet, quirky little town with rainbow crosswalks and helpful volunteers in the library. We’d go back there in a minute, and maybe ride all the way down to some other simpatico towns on Rt. 6 with hippy-sounding cafes and bakeries.

Bakery Central? (I guess that applies to lots of places too) Biking Capital?

Even rockslides don’t stop these folks. You can hike right through this one.

Leaving Slocan, we decided to loop around a bit. The plan HAD been to camp 2 nights at Glacier National Park…but that weather window slammed shut, and we didn’t want to camp in snow. With an extra day before our hotel reservation in Revelstoke, we followed Rt. 6 back west in a squiggly semi-circle that took us back to–ta dah! The Columbia.

Or more accurately, ACROSS the Columbia, by FERRY.

They don’t even call it a river there, they call it Arrow Lake! Seeing that mighty river so abused brought us no joy. OK, a little joy. It was still fun ferrying across.

Burdened Columbia?

But that afternoon cheered us right up. First we got to ride yet another rail trail (Okanagon) along Laka Kalamalka, an honest-to-gods, true-blue, undammed stretch of watery glory…

Looking across at another Prov. Park I wish we’d stayed in

…and then, that evening, near the lake, the Mate and I got our first Glamping experience, on a hydroponic farm!

Don’t worry, I didn’t know what a hydroponic farm was either.

Doug, the friendly owner of Utopia Feels glamping, gave us the full tour, including veggies:

Inside that white tube-tower, it’s raining!

…critters:

Silly & Billy, the goats, and Bad Bunny, enjoying veggie trimmings

…and of course, the glamping tents!

If anyone’s looking for an AMAZING wedding venue, I highly recommend this place!

I can’t say we’ll ever do this again, but it was a hoot and a half to do once!

And this is a SMALL tent. Some sleep up to six!!

Bountiful Campgrounds? Bodacious Comfort?

Leaving the Okanagan behind, we turned north and east again, as if heading for the grand Rockies. But this time we stopped short, in the town of Revelstoke, home of…

…you guessed it: the Columbia River. Still dammed (just upstream from town), but looking closer to a real mountain river than I ever dreamed it could.

Beautiful Clarity!

Revelstoke nestles into a whole batch of mountains, including Mt. Revelstoke, which has its own national park. Clear skies were in short supply when we drove the single road in and up to hike toward the summit:

Over the next couple of days, as the rains moved in, we took advantage of little breaks to revel in local awe (Revel? in Revelstoke? See what I did there?).

glaciers of Mt. Begbie, part of where that silt comes from

Just up the road (literally, up) from Revelstoke is Canada’s Glacier National Park, and it KILLED me to be so close and not go. But we were disinclined to drive in possible snow & ice. So…next time, B.C.

Best Choice?

But Revelstoke was quirky enough for us. Examples: Woodenhead, apparently carved decades ago by some dude for the fun of it, and adopted by the town:

…and this Indian-German fusion restaurant we found.

After Revelstoke, stymied by weather to the east, we turned west. I’ll save that for Part II, because that part was

BEYOND COMPARE.

Doggone Vacation, Part II: Trailing & Pathing Through Vancouver Island

Posted on September 26, 2022 by gretchenwing

Like my new word? I was trying to find a way to describe the way The Mate and I tend to travel, and it occurred to me: pretty much all we do, wherever we are, is look for trails to walk or paths to bike (or vice-versa).

Leaving Tofino, we drove less than 20 miles down the road to Pacific Rim National Park, a thin strip of forest and beach that runs a good length down Vancouver Island’s Wild West Coast. The hiking trails are all short, but the longest of them is run by the Nuu-chah-nulth people, whose land it occupies.

It’s hard to get The Mate to turn around for a photo.

Along with offering some moments in the best parts of the forest, the trail tries to deepen one’s awareness of that culture, like this:

If only I knew how to pronounce those words…

This totem pole along the trail is maybe the most beautiful I’ve ever beheld.

Everywhere you go in that park, signs remind you whose land you are on–a convention our US parks would do well to emulate.

That sign, by the way, greets walkers and bikers for MILES as they traverse the longest path of all: the bike path that runs the entire 20+ miles of the park. The Mate & I LIVED on this path during our camping days there, using it to move from one beach or hiking trail to the next. And, given the number of poop-piles we counted, the local bears live on this path too!

Does the bear shit in the woods? Actually, no…not when there’s pavement available. (Not sure why someone placed a rock on this batch)

Of course we didn’t spend ALL our camping time on the move.

Not when there’s giant fungus to groove on! (foot included just for scale)

I’m not a “beach person” in the sense of lying on them for hours, but give me a beach with tidepools and I’m good–at least till the next mealtime! 🙂 PRNP has some AMAZING rocks and tide pools.

In one pool, I was amazed to discover an eating-sized fish who appeared trapped, as if in an aquarium. I vowed to come back next morning to try to save him if the tide hadn’t come in far enough…

…only to discover him, to my chagrin, still there…along with an even larger buddy…both of them attached through the gills by a nylon line, and the fisherman who’d caught them still trying to augment his catch. Apparently he was using this tide pool as his bucket to stash his fish, even overnight!

[Not pictured: pathetic caught fish in tide pool. I’m a terrible hypocrite; I just like to eat ’em.]

Seriously, though, I can’t say enough about this part of Canada. Come for the big trees…

…stay for the big trees at sunset!

Leaving the Wild West (regretfully), we moved slowly back through the center of the island, spending the night in Port Alberni. Not much pathing nor trailing there–but I did fall deeply in love with their bakery. If you want to know more about this very blue-collar town at the far end of the LOOOONG inlet which bisects the west coast, let me refer you to my friends’ blog–they do a good bit more than pathing and trailing when they travel.

[Not pictured: Port Alberni. Nothing really grabbed me there, visually; probably due to lack of trails & paths.]

On the way out, however, we walked in the Cathedral Grove (pictured at top), and later stopped at Little Qualicum Falls Provincial Park, where we vowed to come back sometime and camp. Here’s why.

Luckily, we’d already had our leaping-salmon experience the week before at Stamp River, because…

…these falls were not exactly leap-able. Ridiculously gorgeous, yes. We had some of our best “trailing” around this river, seeing its falls from all angles.

Our final stop was Lake Cowichan, where I’d attempted to take The Mate on last fall’s ill-fated Mystery Birthday Trip (see previous post). The Trans Canada Trail runs through there, so we had high hopes of pathing it on our bikes.

But it was closed for construction. So we had to make do with the lake.

Lake Cowichan looked even better from above, although the trail itself led mostly through the scruffy results of clearcutting.

The scenery finally got pretty just about when we were ready to turn around. Oh well.

We spent our final Vancouver Island night near Nanaimo, where we’d be boarding the ferry next morning. Yes, we did manage to find a couple more trails & paths nearby, but by this time we were starting to feel all that mileage in our legs. So we kept the walks short, and fell gratefully into the bed which took up our entire tiny room in this adorable pub/hotel.

Did I order the poutine for dinner? Yes I did.

We arrived home to find the Cascade skies still hazy with wildfire smoke. Happy as I am to be reunited with Maya the Malamute, I’ll end with this photo from the ferry back to the Canadian mainland, because…