Heading north

In a few hours, I'll be on the road, seeing the traffic and smoke of the Lower Mainland fade away behind me. Hope, the Coquihalla, Nicola Valley, Spences Bridge, Cache Creek, Lac LaHache, Bull Canyon, Kleena Kleene, Tatla, Caribou Flats ... the names call to me; I must go. I'll be ending up, eventually, in Bella Coola for a few days, then turn towards home again; the names in reverse.

Crossing the Chilcotin. Photo from 2010.

A flattish spot on the Bella Coola hill. 2010, with smoke.

Part of the time, I'll be camping, with no access to the internet, or, in places, even to a cell-phone signal. I'll log in here when I can, store photos and stories when I can't. And I'll be back the first of September, in plenty of time for Rock Flipping Day.

When I pulled my suitcase out of its storage space, it tore the spider web it was attached to, and the owner came out to complain.

"Hey! That was my house! I built it with my own spinnerets!"

Yes. It's about time I got moving.

The longest way home

I went to Chilliwack yesterday, driving there as usual, on the freeway; a good hour of stressful driving and another half hour of puttering along city streets first. On the way back, as usual again, I moseyed south and west across Fraser Valley farmland, taking my time, relaxing after a noisy party.

Except that this time I lost my bearings in the pouring rain, and ended up going east instead of west. I didn't realize my error until I ended up at a dead end against the mountains south-east of Chilliwack. It probably would have been a pretty drive along the Vedder River, if the clouds hadn't been practically parked on the road.

Several times, the clouds lifted long enough for me to squint at the sky, looking for the light in the west to guide me home. Of course, since I was looking east, I didn't see it. I did manage to take a few photos out the car window; mostly dark fields and blue mountains.

Farms and the southern slopes.

This hill is just across the border, in Washington State.

Heron in a muddy ditch.

I got home ok. Just late.

A Skywatch post.

Snowed!

Two feet of snow, and more coming. I'm getting quite handy with the shovel.

The weather took our neat plans for Christmas Eve and ripped them to shreds. We were to meet in New Westminster, and travel in a 4-car convoy, in case of trouble. Supper would be around 5:00, in Chilliwack.

Early on, a tow-truck slipped and rammed my grand-daughter's car, leaving it non-operational.  I was closest; I arranged to pick her up. ("At least," I said to myself, "I'll have someone to help with the digging if I get stuck.")

I heard on the news that the highway was closed. But we decided to go ahead; it would probably be fine by the time we got there.

Then another grand-daughter needed to be picked up in English Bay. Fine. Can do.

#1 g-d needed to be on the road earlier, though; she arranged for family coming through from the ferry to pick her up, delaying them by an hour. So supper would be late, but we'd cope.

#2, Auj, phoned to ask to be collected downtown; the buses weren't running, nor were taxis available. OK. Another delay; we split the convoy; my son in New West would wait for Auj and me, the first car would go on ahead.

My car was under a foot of new snow. I paid a kid to shovel it out for me, but I still had to shovel a bit when I left an hour later.

Then it took the better part of an hour just to go a few blocks downtown. It was raining, now, on top of the snow; instead of the usual roar of traffic, I was hearing spinning tires and revving motors. There were few cars actually moving, but fewer cleared streets. Around English Bay, where Auj had to pick up her presents (another delay), most streets had two deep ruts in the snow, no more. I made several runs at one hill, and finally had to back down, and around the corner into a snow bank. On another street, a neighbour had to drop his shovel and push me over a traffic bump.

I told my son that I didn't think I'd make it; I would drop Auj with him, and the "convoy" would be one car only.

Laurie said maybe we could put Auj on the SkyTrain; it would be quicker. But while I waited for her, I heard the news that a tree had fallen on the SkyTrain tracks; it was "temporarily not in service".

It was well past 5 when we got to New West. It was snowing again. The kids had been eating peanut butter sandwiches; they gave Auj a gingerbread cookie. (And Auj remembered that her dessert was still in her fridge. I wasn't about to go back for it.)

I came back home, after over 4 hours spinning the steering wheel. And had to dig myself back into my parking spot through a two-foot retaining wall of hard-packed snow, a contribution from the side-walk shovellers. I fried up a sausage for Christmas dinner. I was too tired to do veggies.

My son's car load arrived in Chilliwack a bit before 8. He said the last hour was "white-knuckle" driving.

I phoned to see if everyone was safe; my son-in-law told me everything was fine, if chaotic. "It's good chaos, though," he said.

How fortunate we are! Even getting to the party is an adventure! Even when we don't make it! Getting home in one piece is an accomplishment to be proud of! Yay, winter!

Crow's nest. Also snowed in.

.

Party at Uncle Merl's! (I and the Bird # 76)

Hi! And welcome to our "Beginning of the Season – Victoria Day – It's Not Raining Day" Garden Party and Potluck! Glad you could make it! Come on in, join the fun; there are tons of people here already, birders all!

(Yes, I know Victoria Day was last week, but everybody was at the park or watching the parade then; besides, you were busy, weren't you?) So I'll just show you where you can leave your jacket, … in here … and then we can go out back and I'll show you around, introduce a few of the people. ... Ready? Out this side door, then. We just follow this little trail under the trees for a bit.

Oh, look, here's Island, scoping out a Red Breasted Nuthatch nest; Hi, Island! Beautiful bird! But we'll tiptoe on past and leave you to your photography. See you at supper later!

Out of the trees, and here's the garden. A bit on the wild side, but an excellent birding spot. On this side, there's a tiny creek and a bit of a pond. And there's the Ridger from The Greenbelt, photographing May birds; look at those cute goslings!

Up against the house, here on the patio, are the edibles. Buffet over here … bar over there … at the far corner, the BBQs. Lots of comfortable chairs. And Rob, resting after a good hike. Stop by in a bit, and he'll tell you an exciting tale of a trip in Yellowstone Park. Ospreys, Sandhill cranes, a wolf hunt, and … but I'll let him tell it.

And here's Duncan, discussing the intelligence of ravens, and the origins of the saying, Stone the crows!. Hey, Duncan, if you'd been dive-bombed by crows because you were supposedly invading their territory, you might think that was a good idea. But they are smart, I'll give you that.

At the bottom of the garden, standing by the rhododendrons, that's Hugh, of Rock, Paper, Lizard. He's probably listening to the birds. The other day, he was asking, Who's singing at the park? What bird says, "cow-cow-cow-cowp"? I didn't know. Now I do.

Ok, what else? Over there, down that trail, is the staircase to the beach, 'way below us. I saw Cis heading down a while ago; it's a long haul, but she's quite the walker. Ask her, when she gets back, to show you her photos of a pair of Gray Jays.

And now, the house. Did I tell you about the house? No? I hardly know what to say; I was flabbergasted when the lawyer told me about it. I just inherited it from my uncle, Professor (and mad scientist, really) Merlin J. Featherbottomley. It's a moldering ruin, mostly; he's been living here alone for over 50 years. But we've managed to clean and refinish the lower floor, so if (or I should say, when) it rains, we'll have shelter. It's basically empty; we'd have to bring the outside chairs in.

Come on in, through the patio doors; I'll show you.

Well, here's Amila, of Gallicissa! I wondered where he'd got to. Oh, you're setting up your photos along the wall there! Good idea! What colours! What names! And you've labelled the display: Birds in my local patch. Certainly exotic for us, though.

And the rest of you; now I see what you're doing! You're turning the room into a gallery of bird photos. Oh, marvellous!

Let's see, here are Troy and Martha, with tips on ID'ing Short-billed dowitchers. Very useful. And Liza with a bird report from Albion trip, complete with a bird-watching seal. And this is Pam, of Tortoise Trail, with a Yellow-eyed Junco on Mt. Lemmon. Great photos; and such a nice idea, putting them up like that!

We'll be back to look at the rest of the photos in a minute or two, but first, let me show you… down this hall, this is Uncle Merl's old laboratory. We've left his workbenches in place; they were pretty solid still. Oh, hi, Zen! Already hard at work? What are you doing?

Oh, I get it. Testing the effect of a hammer hitting a tree at 13mph. Better a hammer head than a bird head, anyhow. Unless that bird is a woodpecker, eh?

Uncle Merl was studying seagulls here; he was certain that they were extremely intelligent, and he spent a lifetime trying to teach them to nest in "proper" boxes so that he could observe their care of the chicks. Not much luck, I'm afraid. I don't think they were interested.

One of Uncle Merl's photos

That reminds me; Seabrooke had photos of Barn Swallows building their nest; I wonder if she brought them along? What, Zen? Around the corner in the study? Oh, thanks! And here she is; look! Seabrooke's photo series, A mouthful of mud!

And this is Adrian from the Bird Ecology Study Group putting up photos of hard-working Black-naped Monarch parents incubating, feeding and … potty training?

I see, you guys are setting up a bird-nest exhibition! Oh, this is great!

Here's Nina, with a partly-sad, partly-hopeful story in two parts: Not a pretty picture and 1...2...3 Chickadee...dee...dee.

And over here by the window, this is Max. Hi, Max! Still not raining! We might just get used to it. What do you have here under Spring Emergences? A humming-bird nest? And flocking starling nestlings! (You know, I think they're a beautiful bird! Beautiful the way purple loosestrife is beautiful. Or Japanese knotweed.)

Look, Snail brings us an edifice that dwarfs all other bird structures. And, yes, I believe you, Snail, but … but … are you sure? Your Orange-footed renovators really do that? Wow!

Uncle Merl would have liked this one: Burrowing Owls - Will They Survive In North America?. Larry tells of buried nest boxes. For birds that live in burrows, of course.

We seem to be missing one of our guests; let's leave these people to their work, and see if we can find him.

Back to the hallway again; there's the foyer where you came in, the walk-in closet, the side door, the washrooms, the kitchen. That's about it. Oh, the stairs? We haven't refinished up there, yet; it's just a bunch of empty rooms. Come to think of it, though, I saw PetMonologues going upstairs with a flock of birds and a camera; he said something about doing a video for Sex and the Single Bird. "Birds do it", he said.

Oh, and I'd totally forgotten Greg. He's probably still in here, in the sound-proofed room where Uncle Merl analyzed seagull mating calls. Let's see ... Still working, Greg? Good for you, but it's party time! Come on out and get a drink before supper!

Greg's reporting on enigmatic sex ratios in a nearly extinct bird, the Magenta Petrels. I hope they can bring them back from the brink.

Anyhow, I'm looking for N8, of The Drinking Bird; he has a report on a pelagic outing, Slippery when wet. Poor guy, he gets so terribly seasick. And he got drenched, as well. All in a good day's birding, though! Oh, there he is, down on the landing, looking at the water. Come on, we'll get you a drink on the way … what'll you have? … and he can tell you about the Storm-petrels.

The landing, looking out to sea

And I've got to run; I hear another car in the driveway. It's probably Charlie, just in from his South Africa trip. He's bringing photos from the Zaagkiuldrift gravel road, the road to Kgomo-kgomo. I bet I pronounced that wrong.

So I'll leave you to your own devices now. Make yourself at home!

Hey, I almost forgot; this travelling house party and potluck will be over at Great Auk - or Greatest Auk? in two weeks, the 12^th of June. If you have some goodies to bring, give Carrie a shout at labenc AT gmail DOT com by the 10^th.
.

Miles to go

I've been tagged, twice, with the same meme. So does that mean I have to do it twice?

"Cis" at Cicero Sings, and Seabrooke, at The Marvelous in Nature, have passed on the 6-word memoir meme, started 6 weeks ago by bookbabie. The challenge is to write your own memoir, but using only 6 words.

I once did an autobiography in the form of a limerick*; that was hard enough. But only 6 words? Could I do it?

Well, I'm cheating. After all, I was tagged twice; I'm entitled to a double count, aren't I?

A line from Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" has always meant a lot to me, not necessarily for any reason that I could identify, but just because it resonated with me. "And miles to go before I sleep." (That's where I cheat; I used the quote in my title.)

Thinking on that, I remembered an old photo that I have carried around for almost 60 years.


I was 7 years old. We were coming back from Toronto (via the US, including Yellowstone National Park), and drove on this highway just after it had been opened, in November of 1949. I remember Mom telling us about it while Dad drove. Back home on Vancouver Island, I cut this photo out of a travel brochure, and stuck it in my new Yellowstone Park photo album with Scotch tape. I didn't cut it quite straight; I was still little, and clumsy with those horrible blunt scissors they made us kids use.

I added three more photos from the same brochure, but this was the one that I have always remembered.


Many years later, I transferred all my own photographs to a newer album. But I kept the old album cover with the page of brochure photos; I could not steel myself to part with them.

It seems to me that I have spent most of my life "going places". On the road. In boats, planes, motorhomes, buses. I learned to walk on the train crossing Canada, they told me. And I am still wandering. There is so much to see, so much to do; there is always something new and interesting around that next corner. I rejoice in the feel of a highway unfolding ahead of me, the mystery of where it will lead, the scent of future discoveries.

So here's my memoir: "Slept in the car trunk. Etcetera."

True. Travelling alone, in a small Datsun, I stopped in a rest area to spend the night. The seats were too small and the gear shift was in the way, but the trunk had a flat bottom. I slept there, with the top open a crack, and tied down from the inside, to discourage bears.

Another of the photos. The car in front is a 1948 Dodge, I think.

Over to you: I'm tagging Jean, Robin Andrea, Celeste, Shawn, and "Mike". Here are the rules:

1. Write your own six word memoir

2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like

3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere

4 .Tag five more blogs with links

5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

*The limerick? Here it is:

When anyone asks where I come from,
How I wish that my life had been humdrum!
I am known, as a fact,
By how fast I can pack,
And for sleeping in truckstops to thrum, thrums.

How I spent my summer vacation

I know, summer hasn't started yet. And I think we're staying home and sweltering this year.

But I can remember, and wish. Can't I?

In July of 2005, we spent a week in Bella Coola. We drove across the Lower Mainland to Horseshoe Bay, took the ferry to Nanaimo, and drove north to the tip of Vancouver Island. Spent the night in Port Hardy, and caught an early-morning ferry to Bella Coola, an all-day trip.

My Google map of our route.

I had promised Laurie great weather, "It's always hot in the summer in Bella Coola," I swore. And the trip up was warm and sunny. When we disembarked, it was starting to rain. And it rained, and poured, and stormed for the entire week, including the ferry trip back.

Still, we had a few hours of in-between-downpours.

I'd like to share some of our photos from the trip with you.
That first morning, starting out on the ferry from Horseshoe Bay. Morning mist low over the water.
A fellow passenger, and an oatmeal sea.
Green water, barnacles and seaweed at a ferry landing.

Next post: open water, seabirds and a Sasquatch.

Travelling to Paris? Best route?

• Ask the professionals:
• Diva Jood is a good one.
• Go to her post, Travel Instructions.
• Follow her simple procedure.

Easy, isn't it? And you can't beat the price!