Early October
It’s been a very fine few days off. Got plenty done, the garden is pretty much put to bed, got out in the bush looking at the ground, sky and everything in-between. It will be tough going back tomorrow, but it has to be done.
Tag: nature
Falling
The dorgs, Willow, Lola, and I headed behind the mountains where the creek runs dry this time of year.
The snow started low and fell heavy further up, big juicy flakes. We met a couple of mushroom pickers. They were discouraged. I told them I saw plenty of shaggy manes down below. They were after portabella and chicken mushrooms. Once the snow melts they will be out.
Good to be out, running the muddy roads before they are frozen, facing skyward catching snow and spitting it out, watching dogs twist, chasing their tails, while the mountain pulses in silence.
Tamarack
It was nice to get out with Jack and Dave for a day hike to see the tamaracks turning colour.
We even had a few snowflakes fall upon us. Even though the sun stayed hidden the colours still popped.
Tamarack or Larch, as they are often called, are deciduous conifers. They have bright green needles in spring that turn golden in autumn. The time they are brightest does not last long before the needles fall. To an untrained eye they don’t look very much different than fir, pine and spruce, but differ, among other characteristics, by shedding their needles.
It is always a treat to hike among these majestic beauties at this time of year.
Old Places
Places you feel good in. I’m a guy who doesn’t own anything. There is nothing I can call my own. The sky can be out or not. Up there the creek is always clear. Long ago I said to my father, ‘this is my creek’. He knew I didn’t mean it belonged to me, but I felt peace there. There were places he felt the same.
Lisa and I, along with Willow, spent the night up at the top of the creek, we went high where the water runs out at this time of year. We starred skyward and felt the spirits fly through our chests. Lisa counted the piles of bear shit, noted if they were fresh, she carried bear spray and a knife with a quick release. She pointed out cedar boughs in the darkness and asked if I could cut her a few.
A mountain Martin stood stiff, eyes glowing, curious at our intrusion. A large bull elk climbed a rock slide to stay clear of us. There is still enough of my self to quicken my heart and want to go after him. When young it is simple to kill. A pellet to a birds breast. Killing is easy, now older, I even have trouble pulling the trigger on plants in fall. My edge now is not killing.
This place can punch your heart and make you cry.
Good Work
It is good to feel fall. It hasn’t been chilly. No sign of frost. The garden tomatoes are ripening.
Everyone I talk with is happy to have less tourists. It should be noted, these are folks, me included, who depend on tourism to live. It would be like a miner wanting the coal to disappear or a logger who didn’t want to cut down trees. What would we do without the thing we hate. The thing that feeds us.
It’s more reason to grab hold of every piece of peace you can, wherever it comes from. There is plenty in your control and more that isn’t. Figure out the difference and influence what you can. It’s good work if you can get it.
Labour Day
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.
Footing
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.
Why Did the Yahoo Cross the Road?
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.
Late August
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.
Quick Break
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.
Palliser Pass 