Biking in the Kootenays 

On Thursday, July 9 Lynne Young and I drove to Cranbrook to meet Jane and KayDonna for a week of biking in the Kootenays. Once we turned south just east of Revelstoke, I was in terra incognito. We drove through lovely countryside along the Columbia River with the Hughes Range rising impressively in the east and arrived in Cranbrook in time for dinner with Jane and KD. 

On Friday we all biked along a rail trail from Cranbrook to Kimberley for lunch in a park and back for a total of approximately 60km. 

On Saturday we rode on the Chief Isadore Trail out of Cranbrook across stretches of grassland that extended to the Hughes Range in the east. We also did part of the Mayook Trail, an easy/intermediate mountain bike trail. I couldn't have done it without my trusty Opus Connect which is back in great shape after its disastrous rattling north of Falkland. The trail was narrower and bumpier than the rail trails. It was also slightly uphill with switchbacks so without power I wouldn't have been able to maintain the speed necessary to keep my balance. We rose to the point where there was a caution sign. Like Falstaff, we decided that:"The better part of valour is discretion."😂Going down was harder than going up from the point of view of balance, so we were all happy that we hadn't assumed any false courage, except for Lynne perhaps. She's a real goer. That was our most adventurous ride of the week. It was about 50km in total. We were tired by the end. 

On Sunday we left Cranbrook at 9am and drove to the Creston Valley where we rode our bikes for about 25km along paved back roads through beautiful countryside. Then we drove on to Nelson. 

Jane had done most of the planning of bike routes and reservations of hotels, but as I was the one who had never been to Nelson and really wanted to see it, I reserved our rooms there. I chose the Mountain Hound Inn on Baker Street, downtown Nelson. If we only had one night there, I wanted to be able to walk around town. But there was no parking at the hotel. I had phoned to confirm that they had a secure room where we could keep our bikes and that there was pay parking on the street and a lot nearby. That was good enough for me, but I have never been known for excessive forethought. It used to drive my very thorough planning father to distraction, but I would tell him not to worry, sometimes you're lucky. This time I was. You couldn't ask for a more secure bike room and as we arrived early on a Sunday afternoon there were two parking spots right in front of the hotel which we could stay in for free until we left at 9am on Monday. Parking is free in Nelson on Sundays. Whew !😅My one responsibility was successfully behind me. We walked all over town ending at a good restaurant, the All Seasons Left Coast Restaurant, that Lynne had been to before. 

On Monday morning it was cool. We rode our bikes on the Burlington Rail Trail out of Nelson toward Salmo. It was a good shady trail but the surface got gradually tougher and then mucky so we headed back. It was around 30km in total. We drove to Castlegar and settled into the hotel. Before dinner we went for a walk on the Selkirk College Trail along the Kootenay River, a Northern tributary of the Columbia. 

On Tuesday morning we drove out of Castlegar to the South Slocan Trailhead and rode for about 25km along the Slocan Valley Rail trail. It follows the Slocan River which flows into the Kootenay River. The trail was asphalt for the first 4km, then crushed rock which was a bit rough in places. We ate lunch on the way back sitting on a unique bench overlooking the river. It was a good ride but our rears were ready to get off the bike seats after about 50km. 

KayDonna and Jane with me on a bridge over the Slocan River

The bench we sat on to eat our lunch

Wednesday was our last day of biking. As we were in the heart of Doukhobor country in BC, we decided to ride along the Pass Creek Road from Castlegar to Krestova, where many of the Sons 

of Freedom used to live. Until we planned this trip I knew little about the Doukhobors other than what I heard when I was young about them being naked and starting fires. On Tuesday night I read a bit and discovered something about the group as a whole, including the fact that they had to leave Russia because they were pacifists who destroyed their weapons and refused to fight for the tsar in 1895 and that Lev Tolstoy admired them so much that he became instrumental in helping them get out of Russia and to Canada. I also read a 1955 article in Maclean's Magazine which helped me understand why my knowledge of the Doukhobors was so limited. After the ride we visited the Doukhobor Discovery Centre outside Castlegar. It focused on the peaceful communities in that area, their farming and wood and metal crafts. The whole area reflected the Doukhobor slogan: "Toil and Peaceful Life". Then we walked across the suspension bridge over the Kootenay River near where it joins the Columbia. It was built by the Doukhobors in 1913 to get their goods from their town of Brilliant (named for the sparkling waters of the two rivers) to Castlegar and beyond. 

On Thursday Lynne and I drove home on highway 33 along the Kettle River to Kelowna. 

I had only seen a bit of the Kootenays when Miche and I drove there during her stay with me a few years ago. On that trip we remarked on the number of motorcycle camping sites and the fact that the good, winding roads would be perfect for motorcycling. The whole area is beautiful and good for cycling too. Now that BC is in Stage 3 of Covid 19 and open to travel within the province, most of the hotels, restaurants and tourist venues in the Kootenays are making a serious effort to comply with all health advisories. I felt quite safe on the trip and it was good to get beyond the Okanagan. But I'm not much of a traveller any more. I'm happy to be home and more appreciative than ever of the fact that I have one. 

It was Sunday, July 5 and my bike still wasn't fixed. It was cool and not raining, perfect biking weather. I woke up feeling flat, not merely supine, uninspired. I had no good reason to get up and nobody to give me one. Desperate, I remembered my kayak. I hadn't inflated it since last May when I was with Barbara and Terry in Victoria. It had been ignored in the garage while I lavished all my attention on my new toy. 

I can't say I leapt out of bed but I did rise with a plan. I would have breakfast on Swan Lake as I used to do when the kayak was the toy du jour. I had put it away well, if I do say so myself. It was easy to load into the car, not so easy to inflate and put in the water. I got to the launch spot at the same time as a bunch of fishermen who were rolling their aluminum boats off their trailers and heading out to fish. I felt they were all watching me scornfully as I fumbled with my valves and pump. Then l gave myself a mental slap. Why would guys eager to get fishing even give me a thought. I finally began to concentrate on the task and eventually succeeded. As I started paddling, I noted that I had not inflated one of the small sections but that was unimportant. I paddled straight to my favourite spot at the north end of the lake and enjoyed the breakfast I had brought with me. It was almost 9, still cool and calm and I was surrounded by geese, goslings, gulls and ducks with ducklings. There were three herons perched in the tall, dying trees along the shore. I watched one land in an awkward, crashing way but once he had settled he remained like the others: erect, alert and motionless the whole time I was there. It always amazes me how they stand as upright and unwavering on relatively thin, dying branches as they do on the shore of an estuary. They are regal. How could I have waited so long before returning to Swan Lake for breakfast?  The paddle back was a bit more taxing because the wind had come up. 

As I was deflating the kayak a couple of young guys pulled in, one of whom was in really bad shape. His buddy had made some basic but very effective adjustments to their system so that he could get into the boat and out to fish. Although I was busy with my own stuff, I noticed how handicapped the one guy was, unable to straighten up. A heavy cast on one of his legs had a full catheter bag strapped to it. I gave myself my second mental slap for the day, to think that I had felt too flat to get out of bed and then worried about people watching me as I clumsily relearned how to inflate my kayak. Just get on with it. 

Breakfast on Swan Lake

Another Superlative Donald laugh from the Baughans 

Canada Day 2020

It's 16c. and cloudy in Vernon, the bleakest Canada Day I can remember, in the wettest spring in this part of BC since I moved here in 2010. Yesterday we had buckets of rain with even a bit of hail, and the forecast predicts more storms this afternoon and evening. But I'm warmly wrapped in a blanket in the sunless room, unbothered by the fact that my bike is still in the repair shop. I'm not missing any rides. As it's a Wednesday, my only outing was a walk around the very soggy Polson Park with Lusia followed by coffee at Ratio, my favourite coffee shop. I bought us each a celebratory maple cheesecake topped with a strawberry 🍓and two raspberries to accompany our Americanos. That brightened our Canada Day. 

People are turning to art in this time of Covid. I haven't progressed beyond Google collages, but I love making them, for the moment. Part of the attraction is the fact that once I opened the app, which had been on my screen unlooked at since Jay gave me the phone years ago, I discovered that it held all my old photos, which is probably why I finally had to break down a while ago and buy space in the cloud ☁️or rather gigantic bunker. I always delete most of my photos and assumed that by doing so I was sending them into the ether, but no. They cannot escape. Google is capturing them in its cloud. I couldn't understand why I was always getting messages telling me my space in the cloud was almost full. Finally I broke down. There's stuff on this iPhone I don't want to lose and I began to fear that one day without further notification the pearly gates would be slammed in my face and all would be lost. So now Google is withdrawing $1.35 from my VISA every month. It's beyond me, but the fear of exclusion was more real than anything the United Church of Canada was able to instill in me. As it turns out, I'm quite happy to access these banished photos. Now in my idle Covid times I am making collages from old photos I had forgotten about and new ones I haven't yet consigned to the concrete bunkers. 

The flowers were in the front yard this spring. The flag was in an email my high school friend Maggie sent me recently. The other is a photo I took of a painting by Mr. Brainwash that was in an exhibition called The Anthropocene that I went to when I was in Queretero, Mexico. "Follow your dreams" is an expression that has become a bit tired, but this painting made it jump to life for me. The graffiti artist ape has such a matter-of-fact expression on his face as he turns his head after completing the writing. I just loved it.