Gold and Water

 

Home again after a fun trip exploring some of the more remote corners of our beautiful province. After taking the ferry to the mainland, we stopped at Nairn Falls Campground. A short walk took us to the lookout from where we heard the water thundering over the rocks and through the canyon carved out over millennia by the power of water.  

Up along the Duffy Lake Road that winds through the Coastal Mountains into the interior of BC. The landscape changed dramatically from coastal rainforest to rolling hills covered with sagebrush. We settled into a campsite at Seton Lake where a dam provides hydroelectricity for the power grid. 

In the 1960s my father drove a tanker-trailer hauling fuel to many places. One of those was the mining town of Bralorne. Dad said that he first drove the road in the winter, at night. He was so shaken by the experience that he told his dispatcher he wouldn't drive it again. However, the next night, away he went. At least he knew what to expect the second time. 

Tim and I drove the road in the daylight, in summer, without a trailer, and that was an adventure! The road is winding and narrow, clinging to the cliff, with many signs warning of rock fall. We drove around rocks going, and even more returning. 

Bralorne is a mostly abandoned gold-mining town, with its heyday in the 1940s and 50s. During the Fraser River goldrush in the 1850s miners rushed to place their claims along the rivers in the area. Few made it as far as Bralorne as the terrain is very steep and uninviting. In the late 1800s the mother lode of gold was discovered and a mine constructed in 1931. The mine was the richest gold mine in Canada, but closed in 1971 due to the low cost of gold (about $34 cdn per ounce). 

Tim spoke with some men at the mine site which has been reactivated, because, as we know, the price of gold has risen considerably. The mine will never be as vast as it once was, but still productive.

A friend of mine grew up in Bralorne. She attended the church shown above, one of the few well-maintained buildings in town. 

Abandoned houses and gardens tell the stories of the past. In one, yellow roses bloom alongside lilac bushes. Poppies grow from stone walls. A few homes are occupied as the area is great for heli-skiing in the winter. 

The old community hall is locked and no longer in use due to safety concerns. But beside one outside corner is a pay telephone and a post office box. The school was first converted to a museum, but is now abandoned and the museum housed in the former post office. It was closed the day we were there. 

A circular outdoor feature displays various pieces of mining equipment with short descriptions of their use, and this old fire truck. We noticed that many of the buildings in town, lived-in or not, have sprinklers on the roofs, a necessity in this area where forest fires have ravaged areas.

Hydro dams dot the area. All the water rushing down the mountains is put to good use in generating power for our province. I wonder which has been the most profitable - gold or water? 

Circling Spring Break

Some of the names and geography of the west coast of Canada can be confusing. For example, we live on Vancouver Island, but the City of Vancouver is on the mainland. The mainland coast is a tangled line that curls around deeply cut fjords and rocky islands of all sizes. The area known as the Sunshine Coast, on the mainland, is accessible only by ferry. 

Last weekend, Tim and I drove north on our island (Vancouver Island) to catch a ferry back to the Sunshine Coast. We spent a few days in Powell River, then took another ferry to Earl's Cove for some more vacation time, then a ferry to Vancouver. We drove through the city to catch yet another ferry, our usual one, back to Victoria. We made a circle. Ferry, car, ferry, car, ferry, car, and so on.

What can I say - it was a spectacular trip! Cloudless blue skies, calm seas, comfortable lodgings, good food, and lots of walking. 

Lakes versus ocean. It's a hard choice. I grew up with lakes - our family went camping and fishing, but I've come to love the ocean, as well. I don't have to make a choice, do I? 

The catkins are forming on the trees, but we didn't see many new leaves until we returned home. 

On one of our ferry rides, from Saltery Bay to Earl's Cove, I just couldn't stay inside. I went out on deck and found a sweet spot where I was mostly sheltered from the wind caused by the ferry movement and I drank in the beauty all around me.

Mountains pierced the blue sky while small rocky islands drowsed in the morning sun. White gulls caught the light as they flew against the backdrop of fir and pine forests. It was achingly beautiful.

One day we hiked to Skookumchuck Narrows, famous for its rapids and whirlpools caused by the twice-daily tide change where the difference in height between one side of the rapids and the other can sometimes equal 9 feet. The Narrows draws thrill-seekers from around the globe to kayak and dive here.

The only divers were saw were a large raft of Barrow's Goldeneye sea ducks riding the currents, bobbing, ducking, splashing, having great fun.

We visited Gibsons Landing, where the 1970-80s CBC production The Beachcombers was filmed. That series brought many people to the area, and the town pays homage to the show with displays of the boat, photos of the actors, and a restaurant named Molly's Reach, modeled after the one in the show.  
  

Another day we walked into Smuggler Cove, a place we visited by boat in the summer of 2016. This was our last full day and pale wisps of cloud streaked the sky, signaling the end of the clear blue.

Now we're home. This morning I went out for groceries and I'm catching up on laundry. Several trees on our street burst into bloom while we were away and I look out my window to see clouds of pink and white blossoms. So pretty. I'm itching to get out into the garden and that's where I'm headed this afternoon. 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf.

Note: I'm working on my blog layout and am having a terrible time with the sidebar gadgets overlapping the text. I've removed them for now - anyone know how to fix this? I've tried the CSS code available online, but that doesn't seem to be working.  

Delight in the Familiar

Feverfew (tancetum parthenium) self-seeds in my garden. I like its airy growth and find it a good filler for gaps. It seeds itself here and there and where I prefer it not to grow, I yank it out. It's pretty and friendly, familiar.

The other day I took Miss A to Butchart Gardens, a place she's visited many times. As we drove I talked about the adventure we were going to have.

"No, Nana," she said, "this isn't an adventure."
"Why not?"
"Well, because you have to walk to an adventure, not drive. Adventures are for the woods, not Butchart Gardens."

Interesting words from a 3.5-year-old. But I had to disagree with her and told her that Nana looks for adventure everywhere, even if she has to drive.

When I was much younger, although older than Miss A, I thought that adventure required new experiences. Revisiting a place couldn't possibly be an adventure. Where was the delight in climbing the same mountain, visiting the same museum, or re-reading a book?
 

Older now, perhaps I'm a little wiser. I can find delight in the familiar anticipation of flowers blooming. A wander through my garden with a cup of tea is a daily small adventure. The familiar cycle of the seasons brings so many opportunities for delight. There's always a rush of joy when the roses bloom or the tomatoes form.

I still hope to visit new places in the world - England, Greece, Scandinavia. But I also want to return to France, Spain and Germany for I have not seen or experienced nearly all that I want to there. With every visit to the relatively nearby Rocky Mountains or the Gulf Islands surrounding my home, I find new enjoyment in the familiar scenes. When Tim or I say, "remember last time..." another layer is added to the experience, enriching and deepening it. As I breathe in the scent of a sun-warmed forest, memory triggers all the forest scents I've ever breathed. A damp tangle of ferns growing high as my shoulder reminds me of the jungle trails I walked in the South American rainforest. Connections form between then and now.

Delight comes equally from the familiar of everyday life that links yesterday with today and from unfamiliar new experiences that expand my understanding. I anticipate new experiences but don't crave them as I formerly did. The Apostle Paul says, "I have learned to be content..." I can paraphrase that to "I am learning to be content..." Perhaps this delight in the familiar is akin to contentment.