Stories, Excerpts, Backroads
Everyone hopes things settle down after Labour Day.
The garden is dry and neglected. Beans that should have been picked, broccoli in flower, zucchini the size of prosthetic rhino legs, cabbage splitting, tomatoes fallen over and growing on the ground, beets the size of turnips and onions saying, ‘get us out of this parched earth’.
It got away from us this year.
The roar can be deafening, misty and slippery. To find yourself in such a place is luck. When unfortunate things happen its bad luck. We take credit for the good things, giving ourselves credit, we say, manifesting our destiny. It is luck one way or the other.
That doesn’t mean you don’t put on good shoes when you tackle the canyon or climb the rocks. It ain’t all up to destiny. You have to give yourself the best chance and except whatever is coming.
I mentioned in my last post the tourists seem to be doing crazier things. On the weekend Lisa and I saw something that made me write that.
Last Sunday we went to go for a walk in the bush. Once we started walking we heard gunshots very close to where we were. The shots were close together and continual, with no breaks too unload and they just kept going.
They were coming from above us at an old mine. People have practiced shooting there in the past until the mining company put a berm to keep people out.
We decided to turn back in case they decided to start firing below them where we were. We went back to the truck.
I wanted to continue up the road to the old mine just to see what these yahoos were doing. I make Lisa nervous at times because she knows what I can be like.
A short drive and we came upon about seven men. They were on one side of the road with their trucks, leaning on tailgates and over box walls. There was a skeet throwing machine on the other side of the road launching skeets above the berm, where they each took turns firing, explaining the reason there was no time between shots to reload.
The road they were shooting across was a bush road, but a busy one, especially on weekends as there is several popular hiking trails further along the road.
When I was a youngster my father and I used to hunt. While driving to our hunting areas we would often come across wild chicken (grouse) along the side of the backroads. When I say backroads I mean not nearly as busy as the one Lisa and I were on last weekend. Occasionally back then Dad would stop the vehicle and let me get out to shoot a chicken for mulligan stew. The rule was, you never shot across the road under any circumstance. Because it was the law. Even though we were probably the only vehicle on that road in the past week, we didn’t do it. Plenty of chicken got away because I had to cross the road to raise my rifle.
When these tourist yahoos saw us they stopped shooting, a fat bastard, looking annoyed, walked out and tried waving us through.
To go through would have meant driving by seven dip shits holding loaded shotguns at window level. Now, they may have been the safest guys in the world with tons of firearm experience, however I doubt it. They didn’t seem to know you don’t shoot across a road. Regardless, I am not driving, walking or flying in front of someone with a loaded gun no matter who they are.
Plenty of people would have had to drive by them, however.
We turned around. I wanted to have a word with them, Lisa talked me out of it. I could tell she was scared how that might go. She was right of course. Arguing with tourists while they have guns in their hands, especially right wing Albertans who figure it’s their God given right to do anything they want, is never good policy.
When I relayed our experience to a friend, they said we should have reported them. The reason I didn’t was it would have done no good. Law enforcement, I believe, turns a blind eye to tourists breaking the law, unless it is something extreme. A bunch of tourists shooting skeets would have not even registered, the RCMP members might have even joined in shooting with them.
A few years ago the Province of BC implemented a law that if you are going 40 KMS over the speed limit your vehicle would be impounded.
The RCMP patrolled the highway through Kootenay National Park and caught one after another. They had several tow trucks there to take the vehicles to impound. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.
Cripes, what an uproar, our local politicians went on CBC radio to say this was no way to treat the Calgarians coming to the valley to spend their hard earned money.
The patrols stopped, I never hear of anyone, from then on ever after, having their vehicle impounded.
During the summer, each day, coming home from work, I am passed continually by folks in red and white plates, plenty going 40 over the posted speed limit.
I also see plenty of RCMP on the road. Sometimes they have someone pulled over and it is always a vehicle with BC plates.
I believe they don’t bother with the tourists to keep the local politicians at bay. As everyone says, we need their money.
A bunch of yahoos with guns shooting at clay pigeons is the last of their worries. For Lisa and I, we have to find different places to go.
The joys of living in a tourist trap.
Darker mornings. Cooler and it feels good. Been rearranging the wood pile to make sure last years wood gets burned first.
Good to get out mid week and walk up the mountains.
There is still a lot of tourists doing dumb things. Lisa and I ran into a bunch today. They can’t help it. They have been told they can’t do the things they have been doing for years due to Covid, and the recent forest fires.
It is a free for all now. Just look at the news.
Tourists, especially from Alberta, have taken a stand and, damned and determined, hell or high-water, regardless of right or wrong are going to do as they damn well please. They have been held back long enough. Unfortunately, they exercise it on vacation.
I mention Alberta, but it’s the same everywhere in cities. Too many people too close to each other with the only thing in common is buying shit.
If you live here you see it. Even the part time workers can’t wait to get away come September.
It’s a different world. One where you can’t believe the news, reliable sources have become sketchy pushing an agenda.
Everyone has bought in, taking from what they want to believe. Forgetting there is only one truth and importance, helping.
A week or so ago we planned a hike. Many of the youngsters at work get Wednesday off. They are hard workers and their days off are valuable.
We departed at 8am and made it to the trail head by 9:30. On the trip was Jack, Payton, Kennedy, Isobel and Emmett. Emmett missed out on the last hike and it was good to have him along.
Along also was Dave and his son Jake.
We walked the trail through low cloud, studying flora and fauna, paying attention to the mushrooms that had popped up through the forest floor. A bonus from the recent rain.
Once on top we headed for the small lake and basin beyond.
Everyone enjoyed looking for fossils, exploring the rock banks, slides and large boulders.
On the way back. We dashed to the summit overlooking the two valleys. It was smoke and dark clouds to the east and spots of sunshine to the west.
Food was the main topic on the trail back to the truck. What they liked and ‘have you ever had?’ I just tried to keep my footing while my stomach started growling.
A lot of smiles, throughout the day, knowing the next time we saw each other it was going to be about work.
Very fine walk.
Hoping for clear skies. I will be heading into the bush shortly to spend the night looking for Perseids, with plans to go straight to work in the morning. It should be a short day. I’ll be bushed and Willow will have to hang out at work for awhile.
The moon is close to new so won’t come up until about 4am so won’t be a problem. As long as the clouds and smoke can hold off it could be good viewing.
Judging the peak can be a crap shoot, I’ve been lucky and not so on occasion. The trick is being out where you have the best chance of seeing them. I compare it to fishing. You never catch anything if you don’t put a hook in the water. The truth is, catching them is only a part of the fun.
***
Pulled some of the garlic today. It is Russian Red hardneck and looks good. Big bulbs that take up almost my entire palm.
The grasshoppers wanted no part of them. They were planted last October and had to be dislodged with a pitch fork and thoroughly shook to dislodge the soil.
Now I have to figure out what will be seed and what we can eat. Good gardeners say to save the biggest heads for seed.
It was a good year for garlic, despite the challenges the garden endured.
In the end, like most things, it comes down to luck. All you have to do is show up and put a line in the water.
Willow has been a pain in the arse lately, catching scents through the open windows at night. She does a low bark, woof, woof, not at her usual full volume.
She seems to do it as I am just falling asleep after getting up to pee. Her woof reminds me that she has our back and I also need a drink of water. While up I put her out. She sits on the step. Not getting down to pee or shit. She just watches.
I bring her in, and go back to bed. Before long it’s woof, woof, low, just enough to get my attention.
It could be ghosts she is nudging me about, spirits I can’t see, or a skunk outside the window. She has never been able to tell the difference between a mouse or cougar and treats them the same.
Still, I’m blind to both and appreciate assistance, regardless of annoyance.
If someone asked me what has changed with the weather, I’d say, it’s windy now especially when it is hot in July and August. You can almost feel the moisture being sucked out of the ground. I can’t remember it that way when I was young.
I may be wrong. I am often called an imbecile by plenty of folks because I’ve never travelled. I can’t argue with them. However, I know what I see, the garden backs me up as well as the lake and mountains. I feel sorry for them, they are changing, some would say dying or even burning. I feel sorry because of the abuse. Still, they will be here much longer than we will.
We had word a fire was threatening the power supply to the valley. I thought about the food I have in the freezer. I thawed a leg of lamb and made vindaloo for the clan. Not a summer meal, but cooler than roasting it in the oven.
Several fires have started near by in the past couple days. The Horsetheif Fire came over the ridge this afternoon. It looks to be moving quickly. Edgewater, a community 25km north of us, is reporting burnt ash and needles falling on decks and vehicles.
The wind driving the fire is blowing south/east while a thunderstorm came in heading north/west. A double whammy.
Meanwhile, I am on my perch, where I’ve always been, the imbecile that I am, listening to tourists from Alberta race up and down Main Street in loud cars, RV’s and motorcycles.
This weekend I encountered a group of old bastards about my age, there must of been thirty of them, riding Indian Motorcycles all dressed in chaps and leather vests with the Indian insignia. I couldn’t help but think looking at these dip shits that we are all doomed.
It won’t be coking coal making steel that is our demise. It will be rich fuckers getting on planes, entitled to do as they please, without consequence, that will catch up to us.
Not that anybody’s listening, if you want to make a difference, stay home. Don’t bring millions of dollars worth of toys into a place you know nothing about just because you can. Stay home and make a life there.
Lisa and I headed out early to avoid the ruck. The town put on Valley Appreciation Day. It used to be called Visitor Appreciation Day. Before that it was called Alberta Appreciation Days. Alberta tourists/2nd home owners, making up the majority of visitors to the Columbia Valley. Regardless of the name it is a good day to get the fuck out of the valley bottom.
We took to the mountains in search of huckleberries. We had success. The huckleberries were out and small. We stumbled onto a few good patches to fill our buckets.
Willow rustled rodents. Her tongue swollen and panting. She is a good dog. Lisa says I have to mind her better as she is getting old. I don’t have the heart to shut down her fun even if it’s for her own good.
Lisa kept picking after I reached my limit. We creeped down the mountain in the afternoon, knowing town would be clear, cautious never the less.
A very fine day.
Up early. Tough week. I let my temper get the better of me a couple times. Luckily I am only caustic with my tongue, not like before.
It would be easy to say they got what they deserved. Tourists, rich, entitled, put in their place. But it makes me sad. So it can’t be good. I used to love putting a bully in his place. Punching up has hurt my family immeasurably. I am a fool not to go along. Look how good the people who punch down do.
The garden is up. Plenty of smoke on the horizon and on the water, early morning. The spuds could be ready, who knows for sure, the grasshoppers have eaten the blossoms.
Palliser Pass 