On the Road Again 2012 #16

I didn't really did not want to leave Yellowknife. I felt as if I had travelled a long way to see it but partially because of the weather and because it had been a long weekend  I  had not gotten to see or at least to know the city as well as I had wanted to. However I also had a sense of wanting to get to the west coast sometime soon. It had been over 5 months since I had seen my son and family. In the interest of both time and money I decided to take a Greyhound bus south. Considering how much I had spent on hotels to get up north, and how long it had taken me, it seemed a more effective use of my resources to get down south quickly. However, I could not find the number for Greyhound. There was a  local  company that took passengers to Hay River at the south end of Great Slave Lake but that would  not help me a lot. I went down to the lobby to  get some help from the clerk.After he made a number of calls and was put on hold for a bit, he told me that there were no Greyhound buses running in the NWT. He was surprised as was I, but it appeared that it was just not profitable to run a bus service in the north. The service had been infrequent and slow, visiting every community n the way. It was more effective for local residents and for tourist to fly. Like most things if the service is poorly subscribed the service becomes limited in the service which in turn causes even fewer people to use it. I suppose I could have flown out too but that would have felt far too much like cheating.

The next morning I got up early, paid my bill and asked for them to call taxi for me to get a drive to the edge of town. When the cab came I was not surprised to see that the driver was from a Middle Eastern country. The previous day as I was wondering around the town just before noon I had noticed a large number of cabs all parked outside the small mosque. Two hours later the cabs were not there. It made me wonder about a country where no one local wants to work as a cabby so we import others as immigrants or refugees.

My driver let me out across from the airport near a park that looked like a really good spot. It was a pleasant morning and there looked to be lots of traffic. Of course after being there for about ten minutes I quickly realized that most of the traffic was just local and that I would not get a ride from those people. There was also a lot of taxi traffic to and from the airport. I guess that is why there were so many taxi drivers in town.

It was quite a glorious spot to be standing. The view over the park and lake were quite stunning. Certainly after an couple of hours there I started to wonder if I would be spending the night there. (it was just a day park but there looked to be lots of places to sleep undisturbed).

The only difficulty with my spot was that day camps used it for a drop off spot and there were a couple of half hour periods where the parking lot was really busy and somewhat chaotic thereby making hitching a virtual impossibility.

I eventually got picked up by Alex - who is a realty TV star from the program "Ice Road Truckers" He was just going an hour down the road but I thought it was worth the chance. I had an interesting conversation with Alex, his travelling companion and another hitchhiker that we picked up. Alex was quite a character with 11 children, a varied work life and of course his experience of being filmed while driving his truck. One of the most interesting things that I learned was that he was, within the circle of people who watch reality shows, a celebrity and not only had written an autobiography, but also went on trips signing autographs etc. Only in America.....  Actually I think he was a really nice guy who would be fun to hang out with. Perhaps I will look him up next time I am up there.

He let the other hitchhiker and I out near two small, just off the road communities. I was feeling silly and generous and so I let the other hitchhiker get the first ride. It took him an hour or so to get one and another hours or two for me to get one. It was a long wait in the sun and it was somewhat frustrating seeing all of the cars that were going back and forth between the two communities. Every time I saw a car coming towards me I would get excited only to be disappointed as I watched it turn off the highway onto the dirt road.

Right down from where I was standing was the exit/entrance to a snow road. These are paths/clear bits of the forest, that as soon as the ground freezes and the snow falls, are plowed into roads so that small communities in the interior can be accessed during the winter. Because the roads frequently follow hydro lines, the residents do not need to wait until the lake ice freezes over.

Eventually a big SUV did stop and got in. He was going to Fort Simpson so at least I had a ride to the same spot that Todd had picked me up a few days earlier. My driver's first words to me were " do you have $40.00. I told him no but that perhaps I had $30.00.

I was Danny's first ever hitchhiker and he was a bit unsure of the procedures but within a few minutes we were having a good time exchanging stories.  Danny was from a First Nation community further north called (I think) Norman Wells. He looked really young but had had three children, two of whom were over 30 and seven grandchildren. He was particularly proud of his youngest daughter who had just returned from Africa doing some sort of volunteering and who was planning on going back to university. I am not too sure how the other two were doing. He appeared to be more reluctant to talk about them. He had worked in a number of jobs, but I think presently he had a small company that did excavations.


Danny loved to drive. The vehicle he was driving was brother-in-law's and he was not sure how much gas he needed to get home. Which is why he had asked me for money for gas. When we stopped at a gas station just before the Mackenzie River, I gave him $20.00 just to make sure he could get home. He had lots of stories about how well his various business activities were doing but I am not sure if either his sense of things going well were the same as mine or if he was slightly exaggerating. Or perhaps he had just left his wallet at home.

I asked him some questions about the bison. He knew virtually nothing about them...they were not part of his culture's history or knowledge base.

We spent a lot of our time together talking about the political process in the NWT, the opportunities available for some and how difficult the transition was for others. It was a common theme that I notice throughout the northern leg of my journey - lots of possibilities, but perhaps a rather high cost to achieve those possibilities if it meant being dislocated from ones past, one's roots, one's culture.

At the ferry "dock"  I saw a bull bison..... it was just hanging out trying to avoid the flies. When he saw us, he ambled in between the cars and the heavy machinery being used to build the bridge. It was an amazing sight...this iconic animal of the mid and north-west scratching its butt  against a bull dozer.

It seemed harmless enough. In fact he walked by like he did not even notice we were there. I had no desire to pet it though. One swing of his head and I would have been tossed into the river.

It was an amazing sight and still for some reason just a little bit sad.

On the Road Again 2012 #15

Yellowknife was not at all what I expected it to be. Not that I can define exactly what I thought it should be, but I think I thought it would be more rustic or pioneer like. It is of course, a city. A capital city that also functions as a port city on Great Slave Lake. I also, I think expected it to be a wide open city with something happening 23 hour a day. After all the sun is up 23 hours a day so why wouldn't the inhabitants? Of course the folks who live there need to have real lives and therefore need to sleep. Still I was a bit disappointed when I looked out my window the first night at around 2::00-3:00 AM and there was no one out on the streets.

The hotel I stayed at was $125 a night. It was not worth 2Xs the amount of the one that I had stayed in in High Level. The lobby  and stairway up to my third floor room looked a bit shabby. The room itself however was just fine - in fact it was quite spacious. It certainly had everything a hotel room needed. As I was checking in, an older couple and what I assumed to be their middle age son came into the lobby. Their ethnic heritage was quite clearly Inuit. It was my first experience meeting folks from the furthermost northern Nations. I, before leaving home, had for some reason never even thought about the fact that there could be more than one First Nation. It was kind of exciting. Throughout Yellowknife there are signs (literally) of the multitude of official languages in the NWT. It  is not unusual to see signs in four languages.

There were many indications of people's pride in their culture. This "drawing" on the side of a rock cliff was beautifully done and in spite of the fact that it had been installed for a number of years - there had been no gratuitous graffiti added.

I was hungry. I had not eaten anything since the great meal the night before. I was in a city. In spite of the fact that it was near 11:00, there had to be something open. If there was, I could not find it. All I did find was a corner store selling egg salad sandwiches and a bag of chips. I really wanted a better meal to celebrate my arrival in Yellowknife. I also wanted to tell someone about my epic journey and my excitement over seeing the bison and my crossing of the Mackenzie River. But I could talk to no one and therefore I ate my sandwich while watching some bad movie. I really would have preferred a ticker tape parade!

The next day was rainy and the city was pretty dead. Very few of the stores were open and there was not much to see. It was after all, a holiday Monday. Yellowknife is not a tourist destination that works hard at attracting summer tourists. Pity - it has a lot to offer.   Occasionally one would see some people on the streets who looked like tourists off of their boats down by the harbour. In the downtown core there were a few groups of young people wandering around and once when the bingo hall emptied a number of older people gathered on the street but generally I developed no sense of where people went or what they did. The day was rather crummy with intermittent rain.  I watched TV more than I normally would including seeing the movie Dried Green Tomatoes. I had forgotten how good it was.

I went down to the section of Yellowknife called "Old Town". A few of the tourist gift stores were open and I wondered through them. Their stuff was nicely done and I thought the prices were quite reasonable.

Old Town, because it is built on solid rock has no town plumbing. All water is trucked to and from each house.




Some of the houses were truly remarkable in terms of design and colour. There was a sense of whimsy in some of the structures that I found quite remarkable. I wish I had been able to talk to some locals just to ask if the somewhat whimsical designs were because of the long winters or in spite of them.

This house was covered with sheets of metal bolted to the sides. Very interesting

Because of the rock, houses had no basements and the houses had to be built around the uneven rock

The other thing about Yellowknife that I found absolutely remarkable were the house boats. As you can see from the pictures they were heavily built and had cord wood already stacked for the winter. I have a hard time believing that people actually live on/in frozen Great Slave Lake during the dark days of winter.

I had a veggie burger in a fake English pub. It tasted fine and the cold beer was welcome.  There was a sense however, of the surreal or of a disconnect to reality as all of the people in the pub were of European desent. The composition of this pub's clientele was quite different than the Chinese restaurant where I had had breakfast. There the majority of the patrons had been either Inuit or members of a more southern First Nation wth a few working class older white men thrown in as well. There seemed to be an easy flow of conversation at breakfast between the various groups of people whereas the pub could have been found in any town in North America. I found eating breakfast far more interesting than lunch. There was also a Boston Pizza and I ate there once. It was the same as any other Boston Pizza. Reliable, basic and predictable.

I hope I will find a way back to Yellowknife. There is so much that I would like to explore but a car would be so useful to get to the outlying parts. I would love to go to NWT legislative building (which looks to be a remarkable building) and watch how their parliamentary consensus process works. I would also love to be able to spend enough time there so I could meet some local people and find out where they eat, hang out, have fun.   There is a sense of Yellowknife still being a small town disconnected from the rest of the country, but it is as well, the center of bustling and growing new economy.  It will be interesting to see how it grows. I suspect that in spite of its innovative governing procedures, it will have many challenges as it needs to determine how the various ethnic groups  will work together. It  was difficult to tell from just a few days but given the number of First Nation individuals (especially the youth) I saw on the street, my reading of history, and of the poverty that results from "a bust and boom cycle" - the proper allocation (or re-allocation) of the natural resources will be major issues for the future.

On the Road Again 2012 #14

The spot where Dale let me off, appeared to be a near perfect spot. Cars making the turnoff on to highway number 1 would need to slow down and would therefore would be going slow enough to get a good look at me. There was an ample shoulder and great sight lines. I really could not ask for anything better. Except of course for some cars to go by. In the first hour only four cars went by. None of them stopped. Clearly my assumption that Northerners were friendly and would therefore automatically picked me up was somewhat flawed. Equally as flawed was my assumption that everyone on the road was going to Yellowknife. While they were not marked on my map, there were a number of small First Nation communities along the way. I of course did not know this until I actually went through them.

The other major problem with the site that I was at, were the horse and deer flies (people in the north did not appear to distinguish between the two types of flies). I don't think I am exaggerating, but there were 100's of the silly buggers zooming around my head. I spent most of my almost two hours at that corner standing in the middle of the road. Because there were so few cars going in either direction I felt pretty safe standing there. I was hoping that as the breeze seemed to be strongest in the middle that perhaps the flies would be blown away. Unfortunately the breeze was no strong enough and the flies just hung around appreciating the windbreak my body provided. Again I did not get bitten, they were just annoying

 The vehicles, for some reason seemed to come in groups or 3-4. Which was really exciting for a few minutes but it was less exciting when I realized I may have seen the my allotted number of cars for the hour. As I watched the cars and small trucks roar pass me ( they were not slowing down nearly as much as I thought they would), I noticed that a small grey truck with a cab on the back had slowed down and was now turning around. As the vehicle passed me again, it did another U turn and stopped beside me. His first words were " I just could not drive by you and leave you standing there." I don't very often, or at least I don't think I get very many rides from people who feel a bit sorry for me. It nice when they do.

Todd was on the last leg of a cross country journey. He had started off in Vancouver and gone across the country visiting every capital all the way to the Atlantic Ocean. He was on his way home but heading towards Yellowknife (capital of NWT) and then onto Dawson. He had had a great trip and certainly had developed a extraordinary understanding of Canada. Canada would be a different country if all young people traveled across Canada the way the Todd had done. He had some great stories especially about people in Quebec. We share a lot of things in common including the desire to meet people and to learn from them. He also was prepared to take chances and enjoy the risks.

Todd by profession was a technician working in the film and television industry in  Vancouver. It is a great job as long as one is prepared to work long hours under what can be demanding conditions under, I suspect the bosses may know what they want but may not know if it is possible or not. The job takes perseverance, and I suspect a whole truck load of patience. On a good day it sounded like a lot  of fun with lots of challenges. On a bad day - at least the pay is great. We talked a fair amount about the industry. One of the things that I did not know was that each job was a separate contract. If the head gaffer knew you and liked your work then they would call you when a job was available. If you were not available for that job....they might not call you the next time. Todd knew that and he still went on his trip.It was that important to him.

There are times when I feel the need to censor myself when doing this blog of my trip. I am aware that sometimes the people might not always appreciate my particular perspective of our trip together. In Todd's case however there is nothing I could say that would be negative.He was a great driver, a good story teller, an even better listener and he shared my fascination for Canada. He was also a keen observer. For example it was he who noticed the strange telephone poles on the other side of the Mackenzie. The poles were not  made of wood or cement but rather some sort of fiber. They only had one wire strung on them. We later agreed that perhaps they were for high speed internet access.   

Picture does not reflect the magnificence of the Mackenzie River

The high point of the entire trip was crossing the Mackenzie River. We got on a small ferry  that appeared to struggle against the strong current. This river flows all of the way to the Arctic Ocean! I thin Todd shared my excitement about crossing this importance river that for so many generations has been a highway from community to community. I was told by someone that in the spring when the water is too high and the current too strong that there is no ferry for a month or so. That means that there is no way in or out of Yellowknife except by air. This makes fresh vegetables impossible to get. All of this will change in November when the bridge that is being built across the river will ensure year around access. While I am sure that this is a good thing for the folks who live Yellowknife, for me some of the romance will leave the north

P

Picture taken from a moving car

                                 


The second thing that blew me away and caused us both to get incredibly excited were the bison along the side of the road. I could not believe it. It was such a high!!   I don't believe I have ever been so excited at least for the past couple of years.
The animals look a bit mangy in part because they need to roll in mud to protect themselves from the flies.






We got to Yellowknife sometime around 10:00.  I didn't know where I was going to stay, but we found a hotel, got my stuff out of the back of the truck and away he went to find a camp ground somewhere outside of the city. It was a great ride and I am thankful that Todd shared part of his cross Canada trip with me.

On the Road Again 2012 #13

Hitchhiking is at least in a small part like Yogi Berra's "deja vu all over again". There are logical places to hitchhike from and consequently I stand in those spots fairly often. Like my second attempt to get out of High Level, I had spent a few hours there the day before and now I was going to stand in exactly the same spot for another few hours. I had had a great nights sleep and felt refreshed. I suppose I could have and even should have had breakfast, but I wanted to get Yellowknife and that old fear of missing the perfect ride would have spoiled my meal. So I was on the road by7:15. ( I could have done it earlier but I needed to wait until 7:00 so the office would open and I could get back my $10.00 key deposit)

As usually I could have stayed in bed an extra hour, had a leisurely breakfast, slowly wandered over to my particular stretch of highway and still have had time to get a bit bored. But then if I had stayed in bed I would have missed watching the town get ready for the Canada Day parade. All of the town fire trucks, the town maintenance vehicles as well as a few floats went by me, heading I assume, to the start of the parade. Of course there would be no fire works...what is the point if it does not get dark.

I did not get a ride until 10:00 - but what a great ride!!  Dale was a nurse working in Fort Simpson, another couple of hundred mile north of the turn off for Yellowknife. She was driving a medium sized camper van, coming back from a family reunion/niece high school graduation affair somewhere in BC. It was only the second time that  I have ridden in such a vehicle and it was a delight. I am not too sure if Chester the dog approved of my company but Dale seemed to like me enough to drive me a long way.

Like so many of my drivers she was a kind hearted generous person. I say that not because she picked me up but also because of how she spoke about her family and the community she worked in. Dale was proud of her job, her community and the Northwest Territories. I think she was quite delighted that I had so many questions about the health care system and life in general in the region. There was so much that I did not know. For example there was no bridge across the Mackenzie river (or the river leading to Fort Simpson either - Dale had to call a friend to make sure it was running). One had to take a ferry. I was initially concerned as ferries can make hitchhiking more complicated, but Dale assured me that they were free. Our ride was full of little bits of knowledge, stuff that perhaps would have found its way into a Trivial Pursuit game on Northern Canada. I was absolutely delighted.
However the high point of the trip until that point was Dale asking me if I wanted to stop at the tourist welcome centre at the 60th parallel.  Normally I don't bother stopping at such places but I did this time.And as you can see Dale even offered to take my picture. That is a first for me. Inside was very well done.......with lots of stuffed animals including a huge polar, and musk ox, some caribou and some smaller animals as well.  It was very nicely done. Because it was my first crossing of the 60th parallel I could have gotten a certificate - but I didn't think that I had any way of getting it anywhere without getting it crushed. I am sorry I didn't get one

The other thing that was surprising about the NWT was the number of horse/deer flies. There were hundreds of them surrounding the travel home, Dale, me........anything that breathed.The front of all vehicles were brown with dead flies. I didn't get bitten by the loud and annoying beasties but I suspect that if they had landed on me they would have taken a fair junk out of my arm or where ever they decided to chew on.

The other thing that Dale did for me was to stop at Elizabeth Falls and take me for a walk. The falls were quite amazing and I was glad that she had suggested it. It was not much of a campground if one was using a tent. I am not sure if I could have handled the flies all of the time but if one had a RV it would have been very nice.

I debated going to Fort Simpson with the Dale. It would have been a very interesting trip and I would have met lots of people. But I got off at the "T" intersection, Dale continued up the road and  I turned right.  There are some rides that are iconic or so memorable that a trip seems to revolve around them.  Dale's ride was one of them. She had got me to the Northwest Territories and she had enjoyed my excitement over being there...no she had fueled my excitement.

I had erroneously assumed two things when I decided to head north. (a) that once I got n the highway to Yellowknife virtually all of the vehicles would be heading to Yellowknife and (b) that Northerners are naturally friendly and would quickly pick me up. I was a bit off in my assumptions. 

On the Road Again 2012 Gathering #4

I was up very early the next morning. I had been told that the canoe was leaving that morning and it would be my last chance to get out. So my stuff was packed and ready to go by 6:00am. However, there was no one else up, or at least no one who was allowed to use the canoe. It was so calm that I could have easily got across the lake - but then the canoe would have been on the wrong side of the lake. At about 6:30 our friends from across the lake came over to say goodbye. They didn't have space for me on the return journey but they did have room for my pack so I took down my tent, loaded all of my stuff into their canoe and watched it sail away. I knew that I was now committed to leaving that day. All I had let with me was my water bottle and filter system.

By after 10:10 the lake was getting quite stormy. It was clear that there could be only one crossing that day. While I did not want to make the walk, there was an old dog and piles of stuff that needed to be taken across. So a sister and I decided to hike the trail while two strong paddlers took all of their stuff and the dog across. They would load it all into the jeep and drive around the lake to pick it us

Part of me was a little bit irritated that other had not been up as early as me. If they had,because the water had been so calm everyone who needed a ride across the lake could have gotten to the other side without having to worry about the rough water. BUT if they had all gotten up early I would not have had the satisfaction of  walking the trail.

It was a much improved trail. Not only was it a bit shorter but it also had been smoothed out. The scouts had done a great job to find ways to avoid what had felt like the endless climbing of hills. I was so glad I had made the hike. It was quite beautiful. The area had been logged a long time ago but there were still lot of stumps from the huge trees visible in the undergrowth. There were spots where the sun shone through the canopy, other spots where in the spring there would be a raging creek but now were just trickles of water (they still needed to be crossed over on what felt like rather narrow logs). There is something quite magical about walking through the forest. I am grateful that I had the opportunity to do so without a pack.

There were also spots that were quite treacherous. I don't think that I could have made it with my pack. There were certainly times when I could hear my cardiologist telling me that what I was doing was silly and perhaps even dangerous. But we did it together. My travelling companion was very gracious. She stopped when I needed to and there were times that I am quite sure that she stopped to take pictures just so I could get a rest.

We made it to the trail head in good time. I had had lots of water and so I was not dehydrated. I was however, quite delighted to be finished with the walking.  We waited for over an hour for a ride, spending part of that time talking to some one who was about to hike in and wondering what was taking the guys so long. Given the wind we could not help but worry as to the safety of our companions. We also saw another bear who ambled across the road just in front of us. It seemed, at least to me a fitting end to the trip.

I got out of the Jeep at the ferry terminal for Hornby Island and tried for a ride to Duncan. I got lots of rides.....just none were going very far. I ended up spending the night on the side of the road at the south side of Nanaimo. The ground was hard and I missed the sounds of running water just outside my tent. I got a ride easily the next morning and was having breakfast by 7:30 in Duncan.

Every Gathering is quite different and every person at a Gathering will feel different to every individual who attends. There are no good or bad Gatherings. Some Gatherings feel more comfortable to me than others. But this is due to my own personal mind set.One can only reflect the personal experience ...to try to do more is both irrelevant and impossible.


It was good to be back with my son and family......but I was equally as sorry that it might be a while before I camped again with my family. BUT then again - every one belongs to the Rainbow Family - some just don't know it yet ...so I am sure we will be seeing each other the trail...............

On the Road Again 2012 Gathering #3

It was such a relief to get to camp. While I was more than a bit embarrassed at having to be "bused" in, it was a lot better than having to spend the night alone. The beach where all were camped was long and narrow (only in BC would they call a rocky patch of land between the lake and the forest a "beach"). As there were only about 15 people there, there was a lot of room for my tent.With the exception of one individual who I knew reasonably well from Salt Spring Island, all of the rest of the people were new to me. I put up my tent in a sheltered spot close to the kitchen and had little nap. I was not being anti social - I was just tired. I got up when I heard "circle" being called. (that being the universal Rainbow call to dinner).

I don't remember what I ate that night, but I know it was good. In fact all of the meals we had at the Gathering were good. Good food is one of the hallmarks of a Gathering. There were at least two people who had cooked in restaurants as well as one who had done a lot a Rainbow cooking in Canada. There was also a brother from Israel and one from Iran. They were all fabulous cooks. It is such a wonderful experience to eat with Family but perhaps what is more remarkable is the fact that people who have never cooked over a fire before offer help and by doing so become part of the process. There is this delicate ballet around the fire as cooks and helpers all work together to produce the perfect meal.

 I am not sure what I did the seven days I was there. In spite of people having been there for 5-6 days before I got there,there was still lots of work to be done ( but then there is always lots of work to do at a Gathering -- as much if not more on the last day as there was on the first day) - so I spent some time making a table with two shelves underneath for dry goods and a wash station for the dishes. I  also helped with the erection of the tarps over the kitchen area. Many of the people who were at the Gathering were newbies - that is they had not been at a Gathering before. For people from the city, no matter how street wise they are, living in the bush, is a different experience. For some the learning curve was extreme and I am not sure if they would ever get it. What comes natural or at least second nature for some is hard for others. A Gathering is a place where those skills meet, and we share those skill sets.And if we are lucky, we learn from each other.

During the time that I was there I had some great conversations.... one was about the classical or structured way of looking at how the body worked/could be cured vs the romantic or natural/alternative path. The fact that one of the debaters was from Iran and the other was from Israel made the conversation even more fascinating as they discussed life experiences that were so different than mine. For at least two afternoons we sat around and did crafty things with me working on my cane, and occasionally showing someone what little I knew about caving, someone else sewed up a pair of shoes while others made bracelets or sewed rips in their pants. We talked about politics and travel and people that we had met. We drank tea and ate treats. They were great afternoons!

The weather in general was not great. It was frequently rather breezy. Unless one was sheltered from the wind, it could be quite cool. The mountains around us were quite frequently covered in low lying clouds of mist

I think there was only one night when it was calm and clear. That was a extraordinary night when friends from across the lake paddled over at 1:00 in the morning. With the large full moon reflected in the calm waters it was tempting to believe that one could walk across the lake.

But that level of calmness was the exception.The lake was usually to rough and that fact caused some tensions. Some people hoped, needed or in a few cases seemed to expect a ride across the lake. I didn't blame them. A ride across the lake would save that rather horrible walk through the forest and the long long walk down the logging road. But it would have been impossible to ferry everyone over. So with one exception no one got a ride. There were some people who felt trapped there and a few were a bit resentful. It was difficult for me because I had been promised a ride due to my age. I felt guilty about that and did not want  anyone to feel that I was taking advantage of my friendship or senior status. Especially as there was at least one other person there who had a real if invisible disability who could have and perhaps should have been helped.

The sculptures created by the wind and the waves were simply amazing. Some of the roots that had be polished over time were such incredible works of art

 The pictures just do not do justice to the complex elegance of the tree's root. They were polished to a glossy shine and glowed with beauty.







 Some of the roots were also huge. The one on the left was taller than me. It was somewhat awe inspiring to realize that these large pieces of wood had been tossed upon the beach merely by the force of water and that they would be moved about many times more until they slowly disintegrated into the sands.

There were a number of caves in the area that for those who are not a touch claustrophobic would have been immense fun.

On the Road Again 2012 Rainbow Gathering part #2

The next morning we packed up our tents and slowly headed down the trail. On the trail were two young people (male and female) who had already been set up at the trail head when we got there (they were travelling together but were not a couple), a father and his 5 year old son and a mid 20s couple along with their dog. The last two were the ones who had picked me up.

The directions had said that the camp was to be about two kilometers from the parking lot. I was prepared for that to be a little bit inaccurate but I was confident that the lake would be basically just down the hill. Within five minutes of walking I knew that my optimism was unfounded and that it was not going to be an easy hike. The bush was tense! It may have been two kilometers from the trail head to the lake if one could fly but for us mere mortals it was far more like five kilometers of going up and down hills, circling around swamps, climbing over large fallen trees and crossing a fast flowing, slippery rocked river. The ground, which was hidden by ferns that were as high as my waist, generally was covered in a lovely mixture of rotting trees and moss. It made the footing somewhat uncertain.  Bits and piece of tree branches laying on the ground were waiting to be tripped over or to snag ones pants. The trail was well marked with tape but there were times when it felt as if one was lost in this beautiful but dangerous rainforest. Because one could never see too far ahead, there was little sense of how far one had either come or had to go.

After an hour I knew I was in trouble. Every one had passed me. I was too tired to walk and even after a ten minute break I was too tired to even think of lifting my pack on to my shoulders. I only had a few sips of water left in the container, I was sweating copious amounts of water and the mosquitoes while they were not biting me, certainly were annoying. I had asked  the others to, when they got to camp, to ask for some help for me.

I had never asked for help before. I had this image of myself of being this tough "Coureurs de bois", someone who could pick up and carry a 70 pound canoe through swamps - not just once but sometimes 6-7 times a day -just to get to a lake that looked interesting on a map.I was someone who helped others carry their stuff in - not someone who needed help. But there I was - stuck in the middle of nowhere - unable to help myself. It was a sobering and alarming feeling.

After an hour of sitting there I realized that it might be a long time before anyone came and got me - so I slid down the next hill on my rear end and and slowly climbed up the next one. I took my time and was careful of where I put my feet. The last thing I needed was a twisted ankle. Finally through a clearing in the trees a few hundred feet ahead of me I saw a bunch of people. I had arrived! I could see a nice beach area and a river. This had to be it. But it wasn't. What I had see were just all of the people who had left with me plus two other people taking a break at the river. The two new people had spent the night beside the water and were heading back home. They were not prepared to keep on going through the bush.

The young ladies who had spent the night at the river told us that we were only half way there. We had left the trail head at 8:30. It was now 11:30. I knew that I could not walk for another three hours. It was clear that at this rate it, at the very least, might take another 4 hours for someone to come and get me. There was however, a canoe in camp and it  was suggested that if I followed the river down to the mouth, someone could paddle down and get me. If that was not possible then I would stay where I was. After the others left I tried to get down to the lake but the bush was far too dense for me to get through even without the pack. There was no way that I could have pushed my was through the dense alders along the shore. I was not about to wander through the bush trying to find another way. That is how people get lost.

 
However I was not that discontented staying by the river. There was a place for my tent, running water (I had my filter pump) and if there is where I was going to stay - so be it. It was a great place. Great that is except for the cougar tracks along the shore.

It looked so much better than the alternative.

Picture on left is of a sleeping bag being dropped and almost floating down the river

You can see in the right picture, if you look closely, the five year old boy walking into the bush. He was really a great kid who never once complained about how far he had to walk. I kept on telling myself that if I didn't have to carry a pack, I would not have complained either

It was nice by the shore. I drank liters of water and slept in the shade. Finally after two and half hours, the canoe came up the river and after my two rescuers had done some trail work, off we went to camp and within after a thirty minute canoe ride I was home with my Rainbow Family.