Japan Bound

Konbanwa... Ogenki desu ka?  Well, it's just past midnight on the day of my flight to Japan.  My backpack is ready to go and it's way lighter than other trips I've done in the past.  I would say I am nervously excited, as I'll be travelling alone and this will be my first time in Asia.  I am so ready for this trip, but at the same time not so ready.  It's been a rocky personal journey the last couple months and I am looking forward to getting lost in Japan, clearing my head, seeing some crazy things, eating some great food, and drinking tons of tea.  Next stop: Tokyo.  Well, a stopover in Seattle first.  I'll be updating this blog fairly often (hopefully), so stay posted!

 

 

Greyhound Diaries

Wow, it's been over four months since my last post.  A lot has happened since then.  Amidst it all I did spend some time on the road, which is what this blog is supposed to be about, right?  Back in August I drove a long circular loop south to Seattle, east across the Cascades, back across the border into BC's West Kootenays, north up the Arrow/Slocan lakes, and back through the Okanagan towards home at the coast.  Apart from that, there's been very little 'road' in my life. In fact, 2012 was a year of very little travel.  I think I may have to change that in 2013.

It's now two nights before Christmas and I'm sitting idle and safe in the confines of the snowy village I grew up in.  I've had a great little journey to get here.  One half of the journey was on the Greyhound bus to Kelowna.  I must say, I do love to travel by bus.  It's nice to be... grounded.  I've travelled by bus in other countries - Spain, Argentina - but it's rare that I take the bus long distances in Canada.  It really is great though. It's cheap, it's comfortable, it's humbling.  You have familiar views along the way and time to appreciate them.  It can really get the imagination going.

Heading east out of the Fraser Valley on Highway 1 - a road I've driven many times - I didn't need to look at the highway ahead as I usually do, but instead the views to the sides.  The valley was covered by a dome of dramatic clouds at different heights, save one long horizontal slice of blue sky to the west - not on the horizon, not up high, but strangely poised in between.  There were beams of sunlight, leftover patches of snow on dullish green fields, and bald eagles swooping around the Vedder Canal.  Then the road took our Greyhound bus up into the mountains and we were soon on the Coquihalla summit.  It was a different world up there.  A heavy blanket of snow covered everything, the clouds were low, and the light was dim. I looked out the window knowing if I were out there, away from the highway, it would be a silent place.  I knew if I were to make a sound it would be muffled by the snow and the thick sky, and the world would feel as small as a shoebox. After passing cars in ditches and flashing lights in the dusk, we eventually rolled into Merritt.  It was nice to stop in the neon glow of a small town bus station, get off the bus, stretch the legs, and drink some tea.  The rest of the journey was into the dark night.  And when you have things to think about, what better way than staring out into the dark?  The night can be a black, clean slate if you're looking for something to write on.   

Here are a couple of photos from the next leg of my trip, taken the following day driving from Kelowna to the West Kootenays.  Another high mountain pass...

  

Elfin Lakes, finally!

Elfin Lakes has been on my list of local hikes to bag for a while now.  Last weekend, I finally made it happen!  Twice in past years I've cancelled plans to hike the Elfin trail.  In 2010, Brad and I looked up from Squamish below and changed our plans on account that the ridge above would be socked in with cloud and fog - after all, we knew what made this hike so grand were the supreme views of the Coast Mountains.  In 2011, it was late in the season and Nadia and I were off to a late start, so we chose to hike somewhere else as we might have been stuck on the trail after sundown if we'd kept with our Elfin plan.  This year, the weather was fine and the day long, so I had no reason to back out.  It was my first hike into the sub-alpine this year and felt pretty nice to be above the timber forests and out in the open.  The trail itself is actually an old road that used to service a backcountry ski lodge many moons ago.  So although it's a long hike (22km return) it's relatively easy on the feet - smooth underfoot, no roots, no big rocks.  The views were spectacular - the Garibaldi volcanic area, Mamquam Range, Tantalus Range, Gargoyles... these names almost speak for themselves, don't you think?

Here are a few snapshots I'd like to share.  Comments are clockwise starting top-left.

• Junction above Red Heather Meadows - hikers right, bikers left. 
• View of Garibaldi complex - Diamond Head is the high peak (which actually obsures Mount Garibaldi). The Gargoyles are the dark feature below Diamond Head.
• View of Elfin Lakes - plenty of snow still on the ground due to high snowpack winter and cold spring. 
• Me at the lower lake following lunch in the nearby cabin.

An unexpected find in Barcelona

Sometimes while travelling it's the unexpected things that stand out most.  When I was in Spain in 2009, I stopped inside a mall in Barcelona to pick up a few things in a department store.  While waiting for a clerk at one of the counters, I wandered over to some framed photographs on a nearby wall.  It was some sort of photography contest and looked interesting.  One of the first photos I looked at felt instantly familiar and really struck a chord with me; it looked like my hometown of Trail, Canada, a smelter town with a population of 8000 people.  I thought: "That's strange, there's a town in Spain that looks like Trail".  Then I looked closer and thought: "Wow, the resemblance is remarkable".  About a second later, I decided there's no way it could not be my hometown.  And indeed it was Trail.  An elderly man from Trail, named Thomas Gardiner, had entered photos into the contest halfway across the world in Spain, and had been chosen as a finalist.  What a strange coincidence it was.  It made my head spin a little bit.  It made me nostalgic and homesick, and made the world feel small but also strangely interconnected.

An early season hike

It's early spring on the West Coast of Canada, a gargantuan winter snowpack still lies on the mountains, and it's way too early to do any serious hiking.  But nevertheless, I've had the urge to get out and hike, so I made it happen this past weekend.  I decided to try a lower-elevation hike, one below or near the snow line.  I chose the Lindeman-Greendrop Lakes trail in Chilliwack Lake Provincial Park.  This is in the Cascade Mountains, where they edge north over the border from Washington state.

It was a short, steep hike up to Lindeman Lake, which is around 800m elevation.  The trail was free of snow and upon reaching the lake I was amazed that the slopes of scree and brush above the lake were lacking snow too.  Lindeman is a beautiful little lake with gorgeous blue water and striking views of rock pinnacles above on Flora Peak.  Content with Lindeman, I headed onwards to Greendrop.  The hiking was more challenging, with some boulder fields to scramble over, but simple enough as it followed the Post Creek valley bottom.  Eventually though, I hit snow.  The deeper, shadier forests in the valley bottom still held quite a bit of snow.  The trail was also icy in spots.  It started to feel like a winter hike, I didn't have gaters to keep away the snow or snowshoes to stay on top of the snow, and I was very much alone.  It was one of those moments where you realize that a few little mishaps could be troublesome.  It was still a good distance to Greendrop, so I decided to turn back and return to Lindeman, the lake that held what I was looking for.  Sometimes as a solo hiker, you have to cut your plans short, and you can't let your pride get in the way... not always an easy thing to do.  Greendrop will have to wait till next time.  Looking forward to scrambling the boulders that were hiding under the snow! 

Here are a few photos of Lindeman Lake. 

A winter weekend in the NORTHwest

More on the American Southwest later...  I just spent a weekend in the American NORTHwest, so that's what I'd like to share with you today.  Just this past weekend, Nadia, myself, and friends Dennis and Ashley spent a few days at a backcountry ski resort in Washington state called Scottish Lakes High Camp.  It's a high mountain camp in the Cascade Mountains, east of the crest, not too far from the town of Leavenworth.  To get there, you can either ski in (a long slog) or fork out the extra dough and shuttle in on snowmobiles (along with your gear, which gets hauled in on snowmobiles anyway).  The camp itself is nestled in a small wooded notch below McCue Ridge and consists of a main lodge, hot tub and sauna, and several small cabins with rustic amenties.

There were many highlights over High Camp weekend.  I tried out telemark skiis for the first time (Dennis lent me the gear) and I took to them quite naturally.  The ridiculous amount of snow was also a highlight, transforming the whole landscape into a winter wonderland.  Hanging out in camp was also lots of fun... playing Balderdash and drinking good Northwest beer.  The cabins themselves are quite endearing and grow on you, even when you are too hot trying to sleep beside the woodstove at 2am, and cold two hours later once your fire has burnt out; a nightly ritual was waking at 4am to rebuild the fire in my underwear.  Uhhh... not the fire in my underwear.  The fire, while in my underwear. 

Another highlight was the fierce weather.  Overcast and snowing on the Friday and Saturday, along with gale force wind gusts to go along with our Gale Force India Pale Ales waiting for us back at cabin.  Then clearing out and dead calm on the Sunday, with some good views of the mountains south of McCue Ridge.  Ahh, yes, and can't forget about the tobogganing... probably the highlight for Nadia!

American Southwest, Part 1

The land of the Wild West has intrigued me for years now... its massive canyons, its colours, its open skies, its desolation, its kitsch, its mystery.  Perhaps it was an article I read in a magazine, or Kerouac's writings in 'The Dharma Bums', or the imagery in 'Into the Wild' when Chris McCandless spends time in desert, or maybe it the classic film 'Easy Rider', which I saw for the first time last year.  I guess it doesn't matter what it was, but either way, this fall it was finally time to take a trip to this strange part of the world.  Nadia and I flew to Las Vegas in late October with Halloween costumes in our luggage, hit the strip for a few days, then headed out onto the open highway in a rental car.  The map below shows our route from Las Vegas counterclockwise into Arizona and then north into southern Utah, returning to Vegas.  Six nights on the road.  First night at the Hualapai Lodge in Peach Springs, Arizona.  Second night tenting in -5 to -10C temperatures at the Grand Canyon.  Then a night at a hotel in Page, Arizona.  Then three nights at Zion National Park in southern Utah with friends Dennis and Ashley.

  

Las Vegas was a blast.  We both enjoyed it more than we thought we would.  The timing was perfect too.  We were there October 29-31, right over Halloween!  It was lots of fun just to wander up and down the strip, stopping every now and then to take in the rather ridiculous and oversized sights.  People watching is something else there too.  A highlight for us was dressing up in costume.  I dressed up as Shaun from the British zombie comedy 'Shaun of the Dead'.  Nadia was dressed as a killer pyschopath.  Interestingly, our costumes were quite similar; the common denominator was BLOOD, and lots of it!!  There were others dressed in costume but we still seemed to stand out.  We got overwhelmed with positive comments and laughs from others.  We went out to dinner in our costumes and were the only ones in the whole restaurant in costume.

We left Vegas and floor 13 behind on October 31st and took to the highway.  After stopping at the Hoover Dam and driving long (and tiresome) straight stretches through open desert, we reached Kingman, AZ near dusk.  Then we continued east onto Route 66 and before we knew it darkness had set in, the road was growing more desolate, and the night ominous.  The passing towns were void of motels so we kept on going, hopeful but growing somewhat weary and worried.  Finally we found a lodge in the town of Peach Springs, operated by the local Hualapai Native Americans.  So we stayed the night there.  We were happy we did, because we had a gorgeous drive the next morning and saw lots of the kitchy Route 66 attractions at Canyon Taverns and in Seligman, stuff we would have otherwise missed in the darkness the night before.  Soon I will post part 2 and 3 of the trip, which will include the Grand Canyon and Zion. 

The last gasp of light at dusk before darkness took over on Route 66

Enjoying wacky roadside attractions along Route 66