Kicking Horse River, Moraine Lake, Eiffel Lake

 

I have wanted to try river rafting for a long time, and I finally got onto the river on our recent vacation. Some of Tim's siblings joined us. We rafted on the Kicking Horse River, which feeds into the Columbia. 

There was a lot of orientation before going out, and we put on wetsuits and jackets, along with helmets, wet boots, and life jackets. Our guide was very professional and a lot of fun, giving us tidbits of information when we were in the calmer parts of the river.

The water is low at this time of year, so we dodged a lot of rocks. Into the water went our paddles at our guide's instructions, and then out again as we "held on" to shoot through the rapids. Tim was in front in the raft, and I was several places behind, on the other side. We all got very wet, but it wasn't uncomfortable at all because of the wetsuits. Without them the glacier fed water would be oh, so very cold. It was a LOT of fun and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. 

Moraine Lake is one of the "Jewels of the Rockies." It's near Lake Louise and was been featured on the Canadian $20 bill from 1969 to 1979. It lies at the base of the Valley of the Ten Peaks, so named for the surrounding mountains. 

Because it's so iconic, it's very popular with tourists and hikers alike. When we went to the park office for some trail maps, the agent told us that the parking lot here fills up between 5 and 6 AM. Yikes! There is a shuttle, but because we would be hiking, we wanted to have our vehicle there. So we prepared a packable breakfast of fruit, granola, and yogurt, made some tea, and left our camping trailer around 5:15. Temperatures had fallen to freezing overnight and it was cold and very dark when we arrived at the parking lot at 5:30 - to pull into one of the last half-dozen of 150 parking spots. Lucky us! 

It was a clear night/morning, and the stars over the great peaks filled the sky with light and magic. 

We began our hike just as the mountain peaks were lighted by pale clouds reflecting the rising sun, around 6:35. It was still dark in the forest, but Tim's headlamp lighted the way and as the sun rose, light grew.

The ten peaks around Lake Moraine were named by Samuel E. S. Allen using the indigenous words for numbers one through ten. Most have been renamed. 

Frost on the wild strawberries. Brrr. We were glad we brought wool sweaters and gloves. 

How lovely it was to see the mountain peaks kissed by the sun, and the sharp shadows created by other massive mountains.

Moraine Lake lies at about 6100 feet above sea level. In the first hour on the trail we climbed another 1000 feet, going back and forth across the mountain slope in a series of switchbacks. It was hard work. Once we reached 7100 feet, we climbed another 400 feet over a much more gradual incline. 

Here we are, still smiling!

Our goal was Eiffel Lake, seen above. The trail doesn't lead to the lake itself, but carries on for another 4 kilometres to Sentinel Pass. We turned back not long after this point.

On our way up we saw no one else on this particular trail. Just the two of us in this vast landscape, surrounded on all sides by enormous mountains. In the photo above you can see the glacier, mostly covered with gravel at this time of year, and just above Tim is Wenkchemna Peak, the last of the ten peaks surrounding this valley. 

How small and insignificant we felt. How clear and crisp the air was. Tim is seen above, walking on the scree, and I am the little shadow below, a bit further back. 

The verse, "O Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth" came to mind as we viewed these scenes.

At a trail junction on the way back, we took a little hike towards Larch Valley, where the larch trees are just beginning to turn golden. Another beautiful glacier view. We didn't go more than a couple of kilometres along this trail as we were both getting tired and there was still that steep descent ahead of us. 

Once we returned to the truck, we had a snack (lunch was eaten early on the trail), took off our hiking boots, wiggled our toes in joy, and rested a bit before exploring the area around the lake a bit. 

It was such a great day. Although I'm not fond of early rising, it was such a wonderful sight to see the mountains being revealed as the sun rose. I think I would do it again! 

Snippets from the Mountains

 

On the first Sunday of September, we locked the door and drove to the ferry, towing our travel trailer behind us. Once across the Strait, we drove to my parents' home in Abbotsford and enjoyed lunch and a short visit with them before driving over the Coastal Mountains, across the Interior plain, and into the Columbia Mountains. 

The town of Revelstoke was a good place to spend two nights. We walked along the river in the evening, admiring the vast Columbia River that begins in BC and loops its way through the mountains before crossing the border into Washington State. A stone arch commemorating workers seemed fitting on Labour Day weekend. Mount Begbie is seen in the distance. 

Once, when I was very young, my parents took my sister and me to The Enchanted Forest. For nostalgia's sake, Tim and I revisited the place on our trip. He had never been there. It's a place full of whimsy and fairy tales. My one distinct memory was of a large egg with a window in it through which one could peer in to see a medieval village. The egg was still there, and it was still enchanting. 

Above is the straw home of the first little pig. The buildings are small scale, child-sized, but I saw a number of adults crouching in to walk through them. It was a fun trip down memory lane.

Not too far across the highway was Three Valley Gap, where an enterprising gentleman who wanted to save the history of the area bought a large piece of property, and over many years he moved historical buildings onto it, creating an old town. Above is St. Stephen's Church, built in 1887 in the town of Donald, moved to the town of Field in 1902, and finally to Three Valley Gap in 1967. 

The buildings, including school houses and a three-story hotel, were dismantled board by board and reconstructed. 

One of the rules for teachers from 1872 that hung in one of the old schoolhouses stated that "Male teachers may take one evening each week for courting purposes, or two evenings a week if they attend church regularly." Another rule stated "Teachers each day will fill the lamps, trim the wicks, and clean chimneys." 

From Revelstoke we traveled into the Rocky Mountains (there are range after range of mountains, but they are collectively known as the Rockies). The town of Golden was our stopping place for several nights. Here we met up with two of Tim's siblings and their spouses and enjoyed good food and good times around the fire, along with some fun activities. 

Tim and I visited the Golden Skybridge, a new attraction featuring Canada's highest suspension bridge. Two suspension bridges cross a very deep canyon. 

When we lived in the jungle in Ecuador, a suspension bridge over a river connected the hospital where Tim worked with the property where we lived. We all got very used to walking across it, although it took me a little bit of time to do so. Although the Golden Skybridge is much longer and much higher, I felt that I could walk across it without too much difficulty. 

I did have Tim walk in front of me so that I could focus on his back rather than a vast amount of space ahead of me. Looking down didn't bother me, but looking out across the expanse did. 

On the far side of the canyon a wooden beam is suspended for the sole purpose of taking photos. However, the bench is not stable and requires some balancing to actually let go and "touch the sky". 

I thought I could get away with hanging on with one hand and was just about to get down after another tourist took the photo, when someone else said, "she didn't let go!" And here I thought I could get away with cropping the photo to make it look like I had. So, another photo was taken and I let go for a very short second. The bench was very wobbly! 

 

With Tim's brother and sister we visited Wapta Falls on the Kicking Horse River. The hike was mostly level until the very end. This is the view from the top of the falls, thundering and crashing tons of water. 

We hiked down into the river bed, and could walk out to face the falls as the water level was low. The rocks were such pretty colours and shapes, smoothed by the water. 

The falling water created huge sprays of mist that dampened our hair and clothing. It was exhilarating to stand there and experience the power of the falls up close. We climbed onto the small hill in front of the falls to watch the water tumble down. 

During the spring and early summer the area we walked on is covered by water. These stone structures were built by others who walked here, and some winter/spring, they will be washed into the river. 

I hope you've enjoyed this little taste of the mountains of British Columbia. There are more experiences to share. I am always amazed at the beauty and magnificence of our province. I was surprised at how many tourists were in the area - from Europe and the UK, and Asia. Our air border opened to vaccinated visitors on September 7, and the visitors we spoke with said that they flew as soon as they could. 

I'm not quite ready to travel internationally yet, and was very glad to spend our vacation exploring closer to home. 

Have a wonderful new week, dear readers. 

Popping in to say Hello

 

Hello there! 

It's been a drippy, grey morning here at home. We arrived last evening around 5:30 and I immediately went out into the garden to collect produce before the expected rain during the night. I gathered 13 pounds of tomatoes and many of them are now roasting in the oven, destined for the freezer. The kitchen is filled with warm fragrance. 

We had a most wonderful vacation in the Canadian Rockies. What a stunning world we live in - so much beauty at every turn. I'll share a few special sights in the coming days.

For today, the washer and drier are whirling, and as soon as the tomatoes are roasted I'll be heading to purchase some groceries. 

While we were away autumn arrived with much cooler temperatures and much needed rain. 

I'll be slowly visiting your blogs and catching up over the next few days. 

Have a good weekend!

September Begins

 

Choosing a favourite season is a toss-up between summer and autumn. As August ends and September begins, my thoughts drift towards cozy evenings spent reading or stitching in a pool of lamplight, pulling up the covers during the night, crisp mornings and warm afternoons, apples and pears, and heartier meals. 

This past week I've thought about my fellow teachers preparing for the new school year. It was always fun to return to the school and find out what everyone did during the summer, to admire new haircuts and hear vacation stories and garden anecdotes. I miss that this year.

Instead I've been spending time with grandchildren, getting ready for a little vacation, and filling shelves with canning and the freezer with produce. I'm going to have to stop as the freezer is jammed full. 

Today I took two grands - a 9-year-old and a 2-year-old - to Fort Rodd Hill, a National Historic Site. The 9 was full of energy and bounced along the path, eager to get to the lighthouse. The 2 was also full of energy but stopped frequently to observe the world around her. She made 9 and I laugh a lot. 

Golden grasses against blue sky and sea make for beauty that seeps deep into the soul. This photo, and the heron below, are from last week's outing to Sidney Spit.

I find herons elegant and interesting. This one was out strolling the beach, carefully lifting one leg after another in search of something to eat.

Here she is going the other direction and trying to hide in the grasses. She crouched lower and lower, retracting that long neck while lifting those long legs. Sort of like walking while doing squats. That would be hard work for me. 

There's been some cookie baking - I posted the recipe on my recipe blog here. These are chock full of all kinds of good things - cranberries, nuts, chocolate. Yum. 

And so begins this beautiful month. There's a slew of family birthdays, and one anniversary to celebrate, beginning with our son's birthday. We're getting together tomorrow night for a little party. Then we're heading towards the Rockies for a couple of weeks in our camping trailer. There will be hikes, visits with family, perhaps a soak in the hot springs, and lots of beautiful views. I've packed clothes for all seasons as the nights are cool and we could even have frost in the mountains. 

I'm taking my camera and I'm hoping for some good sights in our beautiful National Parks of Canada. 

On a Weekend in August

 

The waters of the Salish Sea that surround our Island are dotted with smaller islands, some inhabited, some park preserve, some a mixture. They each have a character of their own. Sidney Island is just 30 minutes away in our slow boat and is the perfect outing for our older grandchildren and their parents. A long, sandy spit of land provides the ideal setting for walking or playing. Above the spit, trails meander through a forested area, and further on is a grassy meadow. There's a little bit of everything!

Off in the distance other islands beckon, shrouded in mist that is typical of August, also known as Fog-ust. 

Give children a beach and they entertains themselves for hours. We were treated to a beachy "feast" created with seaweed and shell concoctions that were carefully explained to us by the cooks. 

A colony of gulls spent a lot of time on this stretch of sand, quietly facing into the wind. 

My week was busy. I made salsa, canned a few jars of extra tomatoes, prepared more applesauce, did some garden cleanup, sewed with one grandchild, took another for a day, and the time passed quickly and pleasantly. I confess that when Friday arrived I was a wee bit grumpy and not really looking forward to going out on the boat the next day. However, once on the water, all the cares of the week drifted away and a wonderful sense of well-being filled me as I breathed in the fresh salt air and watched the grands enjoy themselves. 

Grandpa took them on a ride in the dinghy, slow at first, but faster and faster, always asking if they were okay with the speed. They screamed with delight and made his heart happy, too. 

I hope they all slept as well as I did after a day on the water.

The waitlist for The Kitchen Front was very long at our library, but worth the wait. It was a compelling story about four women during WWII, their hopes and dreams, their joys and sorrows. It was difficult to put down. 

Yesterday's sense of contentment and well-being continued into today, Sunday. Back in May I threw a package of cosmo seeds into the ground. They grew up taller than I am and produce bloom after bloom of delicate pink flowers. I love their airiness and the fern-like greenery. Today I clipped another bouquet and added some feverfew along with vinca greenery. I glance up every so often to admire them sitting on the mantel. 

And another week begins. This one will see another month begin. Summer is slipping away; every evening the light fades sooner and the temperature cools a bit more. For as long as the flowers last I'll clip cosmos and zinnias, dahlias and roses, and hang onto summer for as long as I can. 

Mellowing Days

 

This morning dawned still and cloudy. We turned on a few lights at 7 am. Whispers of change are in the air - a bit more wind, temperatures that require a light sweater, and leaves that are losing their brightness. 

We are very thankful for cooler temperatures. On southern Vancouver Island we have not had measurable rain for weeks and weeks. Last week a wildfire began close to the town of Ladysmith. My husband was very busy all week working on evacuation plans for long-term care homes. Fortunately, as of this morning, the fire is contained and the seniors' residences are safe. 

I picked up a case of peaches last week and they were so hard that I wondered if they would ripen. I set them out on sheets of newspaper, socially distanced from each other, and within a few days they were perfect. Sweet and juicy. Okanagan peaches are the best! I canned seven pints and we will easily eat the rest fresh. 

On Saturday evening we enjoyed dinner with friends. They have a beautiful garden with the back border a forested park. We sat outside, with cozy wraps and a tall heater going, talking and laughing until the fat moon rose high in the sky and illuminated everything in a clear light. 

My contribution to the meal was a Cherry Almond Tart. Cherry season is all too short and I thought this was a good way to bid the season a fond farewell. I combined two recipes from Laura Calder's Paris Express. 

After Tim left for work I sat at the table overlooking the garden with my tea and yogurt, berries, and almonds. The light was so dull that I lit the first candle of the season. I'm hoping for many more sunny days, but enjoyed the stillness of this morning and the cheery glow of the little light beside me. 

The garden beckoned after breakfast. I fertilized the squash, pulled out the sweet peas (they've given me bouquet after bouquet this summer), pulled a few weeds, and cut more dahlias. They are so flamboyant! 

The rest of the morning (it's 10:30) is open and I think I'll do some sewing. This afternoon I'll be watching 2 little girls while their mother goes to an appointment. 

On Friday: Summer on the Wane

 

Reddening apples are a sure sign that summer days are numbered. That, along with much cooler temperatures and cloudy skies. The bright greens of early summer mellow and soften into duller shades. I'm not nearly ready to let go of summer yet, and we have at least another six weeks of reasonably good weather. 

I've been preserving the harvest lately. Applesauce is a hit with all the grandchildren and I make it to share. Our apple trees are loaded this year. I also made 6 apple crisps, and partially baked them before tucking them into the freezer. Fig jam joined the apricot and raspberry jars made earlier. 

The garden is producing steadily - green beans, zucchini, lettuce, and tomatoes. I harvested onions a couple of weeks ago and yesterday put in some winter kale, broccoli, and leeks. We are fortunate to have such a mild climate. Ratatouille was on the menu last night and I spent several hours chopping eggplant, zucchini, red bell pepper, onion, tomato and garlic, along with thyme, rosemary, and parsley, then sauteeing each vegetable separately before adding a squeeze of lemon and some basil. I made enough to put three more meals into the freezer. 

My sweet mother celebrated her 85th birthday this week. My sister held a party on Sunday. We didn't attend, but on the morning of her birthday I called Mom before she went to her regular day of quilting at MCC to wish her a happy day. I had sent a package over earlier. Then, I drove to the ferry and crossed to the mainland. My dad met me outside the quilt room (he was in on the surprise) and together we walked into the room. I'll always remember the look of surprise on my mom's face - priceless! I took them out for lunch and we visited for a bit at their home, then I drove back to the ferry and was home again shortly after 7. It was a long day, but so worth it!

I have no idea what this dahlia's name is, but she's a showy creature, producing bloom after bloom of coral-coloured flowers. 

Cosmos are growing taller than I am, with cheerful pink blooms. Zinnias, roses, hydrangeas - the garden is awash is colour as the flowers put out their best effort knowing that the season is short. 

Sunset arrives earlier each day. We took a walk along the water around 8 pm and watch the sun slip in and out of the clouds on its way down behind the islands. 

I'll be tackling the job of cleaning out the deep freezer tomorrow. It would have been easier to do it before starting to fill it up, but that didn't get done. I want to organize it better as it's in a bit of a shambles just now. Do you keep a written inventory of what's in your freezer, or is it all in your head? Mine is the latter, but my daughter is inspiring me to consider the former. 

Happy Weekend, dear readers. Take time to enjoy the beauty of each day.  

In a Field of Sunflowers

 

I have had a heavy heart these past few days. So much of the world seems spectacularly broken. I ache for the people of Haiti, and for those in Afghanistan, particularly the women and girls, and I feel so very helpless. Wildfires continue to roar across our province, devouring towns, homes, and hectares and hectares of forest. A most unnecessary election has been called in my country, and Covid cases rise in the unvaccinated population. Our Iranian friends are very sad because her mother is currently in ICU in Iran, and A feels very far away from her family. There are few vaccines available there. Logic and common sense seem to have fled the world. 

And yet. 

In my garden there is a profusion of beauty - hydrangeas, roses, zinnias, dahlias, cosmos, and more. I go out into the cool morning and pluck green beans from the climbing vines and peer under huge squash leaves to discover zucchini that seem to have exploded overnight. The tomatoes are, at last, beginning to ripen and I pop a red cherry globe, warm from the sun, into my mouth and sweetness explodes. 

I am grateful for my place in this world. It is a gift that I do not take lightly. 

On Sunday we enjoyed the company of two of our grands while their parents enjoyed a day to themselves to celebrate an anniversary. A new sign along the highway alerted us to a Sunflower Walk, so we thought we'd explore. There were lots of photo opportunities and we had so much fun winding in and out of the tall sunflowers and posing in front of the cut outs. 

Six varieties of sunflowers lifted their faces to the sun. The temperature was not too hot, and not too cold, but just right. 

Does this American Gothic couple look familiar to you? 

The pinkish petals of this sunflower glow against the light and its beauty is juxtaposed alongside the ugliness of world events. How resilient is earth's beauty, and how soothing it is. Beauty does not erase brokenness, but something in me, and in most humans, was created to absorb beauty, and, as Wendell Berry writes to "come into the peace of wild things" and to "rest in the grace of the world." 

Daily beauty lies all around us and calls us to notice. What is beautiful in your world just now?

  

On Friday: Heat, Flowers, Panna Cotta

 

As the afternoon heat builds, the garden stills, everything quiet under the baking sun. I do the same. This morning, in anticipation of guests arriving, I made salads (mediterranean pasta salad, green bean and radish) and a marinade for the flank steak. Before we eat I'll slice red juicy tomatoes (alas, not from our garden yet) and drizzle olive oil and balsamic vinegar over them and toss torn basil leaves atop. 

I cut flowers this morning, too. There is a lot of colour in the garden just now although the blooms do not last long in this third heat wave of summer. 

On the mantel a cool arrangement of hydrangeas.

On the dining room table a fresh bouquet of roses. 

Last night I made Panna Cotta for tonight's dessert. I find that having dessert taken care of ahead of time frees my mind when I'm preparing for guests. This is an easy one to make, along with a cherry, blackberry, and blueberry sauce. I did unmold one ahead of time, for two reasons. One, I wanted to see if unmolding would be successful, and two, I wanted a photo for this post. 

I did refrain from eating it and put it in the fridge until later this evening. 

For the rest of the afternoon I'll be sipping on ice water and reading a book. It's too hot to do anything else. Oh, and to compound the heat, our skies are smoky from wildfires that cast an eerie orange glow on everything. How we (and other parts of the world) need rain. 

Happy Weekend, dear readers!