BC

A few weeks ago we embarked on our annual pilgrimage to BC. We flew into Kelowna and spent just over a week in Vernon, then headed to the Fraser Valley and stayed just under a week there, flying out of Vancouver. It was to be our last trip with Lily flying free as an under-two; her 2nd birthday arrived less than two hours after landing back in Ottawa.

The Okanagan was hot, far too hot. I guess people who live there do so because they like that sort of thing. Well, they can have it!

Monashee Provincial Park

Carrie's siblings from the Fraser Valley made it out for the long weekend, but before they all arrived, Carrie and I took off to Monashee Provincial Park for a two-night hike. We left Lily with the grandparents, our first time away from her overnight. Grandma had a blast babysitting, and we enjoyed a nice wilderness jaunt by ourselves.

Maybe "enjoyed" isn't the right word for it. There's a reason we don't do these hiking trips too often: it takes time to forget the agony and be left only with good memories. We drove off Monday in Dad's big fat gas guzzler V10 pickup, driving east out of Vernon for 40 minutes before heading north around Sugar Lake and on some forest service roads to the park. Upon leaving the highway I'd noticed that the gas gauge was a little on the low side but figured we'd make it where we had to go (and back). Well, the 50km after the highway portion took us almost an hour and a half on very bumpy roads, and by the time we got to the park and the trailhead, I wasn't so sure we had enough gas to make it back down. But that problem could wait a couple of days.

We hit the trail at 10:30, hoping to do lunch at Spectrum Lake two hours in. This leg was easy going, being quite level. In fact we gained only 300 feet in elevation during this time. The forest had a west coast feel, very wet and mossy in places and with a surprising number of cedar trees.

We got to Spectrum Lake at 12:30 and stopped for lunch. There had been no bugs to speak of, and walking in the trees had kept us out of the sun. At the lake, I searched for a geocache which led me across some very cold water to a little island; I was the first to discover this cache, so totally worth getting wet for!

Stealthy cache hunter.

After a nice lazy break, we headed out again. This time we knew we were in for a workout. It would be 5km of pretty steep hiking, with an elevation gain of 2500 feet (760m) to Little Peters Lake. This turned out to be even less fun than we'd expected, but make it we did, in a little over 4 hours.

One of the few sections that weren't uphill.

This log jam is massive and no doubt gets reshaped every year;
the makeshift metal bridge requires annual retrieval as well.

By the time we reached Little Peters Lake, we expected to want to drop our gear right there, but somehow we found the energy to go one more hour to Big Peters Lake, which was the destination we'd initially hoped to reach that day. This final leg was along a fairly level route, and we made surprisingly good time considering the killer section we'd just done.

Little Peters campsite consists of a rocky firepit and this (very) public toilet.

The entire hike in was not too hot and mostly devoid of bugs, but the latter bit changed at the Peters lakes. Designated campsites are nice and all, but why do they have to be on the water? The mosquitoes were so bad that we wore our everything-proof jackets so as not to be eaten alive. We could have slathered on our potent 98% DEET bug spray but it's so much nicer not to resort to that right away. We actually managed to hold off using it until late the next day.

A beautiful setting, bloodsucking hordes notwithstanding.

Being quite tired, once camp was set up we forwent dinner and hit the hay on time.

Day two was our only full day in the park. We planned to do a day trip to any one of several nearby locales, depending how we felt. Well, we weren't feeling particularly energetic, so we decided on a trek to South Caribou Pass, which would afford some good views of the surrounding area. Once we were moving, the only bugs to bother us were massive deerflies that never seemed to want to chomp on us but were intent on attacking our walking sticks; we slapped plenty to death as we went.

Big Peters Lake below.

South Caribou Pass above.

After a couple hours of steady uphill hiking, we stopped to rest on a nice sunny knoll and soon decided to go no further. We had a decent view below us anyway, and we weren't thrilled about further punishing our sore feet and joints right before the next day's long hike out. We relaxed at 6700 feet and enjoyed the solitude for an hour.

We got back to camp by mid-afternoon and of course the mosquitoes were waiting for us en masse. It was too warm to wear our jackets so we tried to hang out in the tent, but it was sweltering in there. So we finally resorted to using our destructive plastic-eating bug spray. Seriously, it melts synthetic fibres like my wicking shirts, and tents, and tarps. Extreme care must be taken to put it only on "safe" things. Y'know, like skin. Must be really good for you.

After that, the bugs left us alone. We had a leisurely dinner and turned in early for the night. The temps went down to the single digits overnight, but not as cold as we suspected it might get. Got up on time, broke camp, and hit the trail a little after 8.

Park wardens had cleared the trail only a few weeks prior.
Since then plenty more trees had fallen over the trail.

After seeing the ridiculous amounts of dead trees and branches on the forest floor,
I can see how a single lightning strike can send a huge area up in flames.

The way back down was easier on the lungs but much harder on the joints. Fortunately I'm always SO active and am SO in shape that I didn't have too many problems. Carrie didn't fare so well, and her ankle gave her a fair bit of grief. I ended up carrying her pack for a couple hours toward the end, along the flatter section of the trail; who said chivalry is dead, eh?

We were back at the truck in 6 hours with the return 14km behind us. I retrieved a bottle of hand sanitizer that I'd forgotten on the bumper two days prior; not a hit with the bears, I guess, judging from its unmolested appearance. We hopped in the truck and started back to civilization... coasting where it counted, of course. There was no traffic to be seen, and it would be a long walk to the nearest gas station if we ran dry. But even thought the gas light went on pretty well right away, we made it out with fumes to spare. And thus ended successfully another wilderness outing.

Back in the valley

Beyond that, we didn't do a whole lot in the Okanagan. Five of us went kayaking on Kalamalka Lake one day. Fours hours of paddling under the hot sun were broken up with frequent beach stops along the shore for a quick dip. On one such dip I decided to wear my shades as I swam (rather, I forgot to take them off first). When a few minutes later I suddenly noticed they were missing, we searched in chest-deep water and found them in surprisingly short order; I had not expected to see them again. Thanks Dad! That would have been one expensive outing.

Then, while the guys went golfing one morning, the gals took the kiddies to the petting zoo where photographic evidence would later show that Carrie's engagement ring was chock-full of diamonds. Back at the house later that day, she discovered that the main diamond was missing. An exhaustive search ensued and turned up nothing. I guess we can assume that some goat weighs an extra half carat. Expensivest petting zoo outing ever!

For the rest we hung out, hit the beach/pool, and went for some walks.

At the end of the long weekend a bunch of us drove to the Fraser Valley. The Coquihalla Highway is nice and fast with a new speed limit of 120 km/h (although most go somewhat over the limit, no matter what it is). Lily took the opportunity to be very ornery, which may or may not have led me to have her on my lap for part of the trip. She now thinks laps are an acceptable form of transport and has demanded it a number of times since that day... sigh. Well, after a while I'd had enough of the wriggly lap-sitter and she went back into her car seat. Minutes later she barfed all over the seat and herself. Good timing, me! Pulled over, cleaned up, hit the road again. She barfed again, not far from our destination. And that was the start of a less pleasant final week of our holidays, littered with barfy nights and food-free days.

We did very little that week, mostly visiting grandparents, one of whom turned 92. I hooked up with some homies (one currently from Ottawa, one formerly) and we conquered Mt. Cheam east of Chilliwack. Four guys clambered into a little SUV and headed up some very rugged logging roads to the trailhead; we had to get out and push only once, due to being too fat and heavy. We traipsed up and back down in just over three hours. It was quite cloudy at the top, but the cover broke occasionally for a nice view of the valley.

The peak was socked in as we approached, but we hoped it would clear up.

Views.

More views.

Three yokels near the peak.

We didn't do much else that week. Took it easy and spent some quality time with family. The flight home was direct, although it was full and Lily didn't get a seat to herself. I guess that will be the one advantage of paying for her ticket in the future. Happy 2nd, munchkin!