“I’m coming to hunt deer. I’m coming with my friend, Laura. I’ve a small old blind cockapoo dog, Gilbert.” I said. I reserved 5 nights. Laura and I were excited. Lots of planning and packing, getting snow tires on the truck, getting guns and ammo out of storage. I drive a Lariat edition Ford F350 with full box and had my KTM 690 enduro motorcycle tied on a rack at the back. Expedition time.
Thursday morning we headed out. It was a long all day drive but Gilbert loves a road trip knowing it’s hunting. Laura and I love to chat and gossip and generally catch up. It was a great trip up, 6-7 hours driving, A&W burgers and lots of coffee. Fabulous views, beautiful countryside. I am ever reminded that BC is God’s country. I love clearing the Sunday Summit coming into Princeton, then the Similkameen Valley, the orchards of Keremeos and Osooyos then the cowboy sage country beyond. A friend hunts Rock Creek and raves about it. We’d come back from Nakusp the Thanksgiving weekend before and loved the little towns and terrain along #3, Grandforks to Osooyos. We’d driven about and fantasized retiring here because the scenery was so beautiful.
“I don’t like hunters.” she said. “I’ve got a 4 point buck that comes to my back yard and I hate the thought of someone killing one of these beautiful animals I think of as pets.” I was booking in tired from a long drive and thought that was strange to say at this point in the game. I’d told her my purpose was hunting over the phone when she’d been glad to reserve the rooms.
“I don’t like dogs because they’re dirty, but some little dogs are okay.” I was a bit stymied feeling apologetic saying, “He’s a cockapoo and they don’t shed.” I’d got Gilbert after my former Irish setter’s shedding had made such a mess of the engine room of my offshore yacht that I figured a non shedding dog was a must. My big logger Appalusa horse breeder cousin who built his own log cabin had shown up one day at my house with his little dog on the seat beside him in his big truck. He’d won my heart. So after Shinto died, with Laura’s enthusiasm to help with a puppy, I’d bought Gilbert from a US Naval Commander who’d bread cockapoos. As a therapy dog and bird hunter and friend he’s been a joy even riding my big Harley with me on Toy and Poker Runs. He even a jet cockapoo flying back and forth with me when I’ve attended medical conferences. He just doesn’t like being called a jet setter.
As I was unloading bags from the truck to the room, the manager came up to me and scoldingly said, “If you get your hands dirty killing grouse and deer or getting your truck dirty, I don’t want you to use my white towels, you come to me and I’ll give you blue ones.” I really did think that very odd. I’m in my 60’s and I tried to recall the last time someone talking to me in that accusatory demeaning tone and it was my mother when I was an 8 year old kid. I just let it go. More and more younger adults seem to be talking down to us older folk. Am I just noticing this or has it always been so. Such superciliousness.
Laura and I had a fabulous dinner at the town’s restaurant with delightful hostess/cook. Laura had Italian and I had Ukranian. “I’ve not had such good cabbage rolls since Winnipeg,” I said.
After a great 6 am sausage and eggs breakfast with another delightful hostess, I headed out hunting. With the sun rising, loving the majesty of the frosty terrain up in the mountains It was great to be alive. . I had to drive a long distance because of all the no hunting signs, private property and no trespassing warnings but eventually got to a logging road, left the truck and hiked forever, before sitting in ambush, praying and meditating and enjoying the grandeur of nature. I saw three doe that day. I loved surreptitiously watching a big grey one with white tail as she bounded effortlessly through the autumn coloured forest.
All that was missing was my thermos, left on the counter top of my home. I have several thermos because of this same scenario.
Back in town Laura had enjoyed walking Gilbert about exploring the town. “I couldn’t find a church, “ she said. “There’s a lovely riverside park though. "
The guys at ACE Hardware were terrific and sold me a new Thermos Thermos. McMynn’s Family Foods was a great country market where I got snacks while Laura waited outside with Gilbert. We both loved the little RV camping site by the river, thinking that would be a great place to come. The town is a US customs crossing so there’s American and Canadian flags but mostly it’s pretty empty. The hotel and lots of houses were up for sale.
The next day I was up in the mountains really enjoying myself after a visit to the lovely Jewel Lake Resort and hard 4x4 drive to the top of Mount Dhu. High enough to receive a cellular signal I got a text from Laura
“I got royally reemed out in the parking lot returning from walk with G. In front of others! Manager said G sheds too much and left fur all over the carpet worse than a cat. I said no, he’s a poodle, she pointed her finger and was wagging it at me , said he ruined bed sheets. I said no, that was my new pjs I wore once and saw the fleece all over the sheets! She said he can’t be on the bed at all, ever, OK In very loud angry shaking voice. They didn’t give us any clean towels or toilet paper, not good housekeeping, didn’t make our bed, just inspected it. Try and avoid her. She doesn’t like G or me and is livid. I felt ambushed , didn’t know who this mad woman was at first. I’m sitting here quietly in room afraid to move. We don’t drink, smoke, party, we’re good people and she made me feel dirty.'
I immediately thought about the weird scolding I’d had about cleaning my hands and the blue towels. Laura is the sweetest person who I’ve never known to be upset. I didn’t think we needed this on our vacation so returned to the truck loaded my motorcycle and drove back to the motel. On the way I’d stopped at a motel in Greenwood and asked if they had any pet friendly rooms, told them I was hunting and my friend Laura and Gilbert were with me. The lady was lovely and welcoming so I went back to Laura and said, “We can leave right now. This motel isn’t worth a $100 a night and we need a vacation from sick people or we won’t be able to go back work. I spoke to a woman at the pet friendly motel in Greenwood and she’s happy to have Gilbert. They have dogs themselves.” I told Laura about this motel manager’s comments about the blue towel and her wanting me to come to her and show her my dirty hands to get a blue towel. “Why didn’t she put blue towels in the room.” I said.
Not wanting to interrupt my hunting time,I get so little of it, Laura agreed to Greenwood. It was only a matter of minutes before we’d loaded the truck. I was just about to board Laura doing a last check of the room when the chainsmoking manager accosted me. “Are you leaving?” “Why”, she demanded.
“My friend is unhappy with the way you humiliated her shouting at her in public"
“I didn’t do anything, ” she said.
“I don’t get much holiday time and I’ve never seen my friend upset like this. We’re on holidays and this is just no fun so we’re leaving.” I said. She proceeded raise her voice and want to argue with me in the parking lot with lots of drama and gesticulations making me feel I was back at work. I said, “Please, we’re leaving. It’s done.” Laura came out then and with Gilbert we got out of the truck and fled.
FROM THE FRYING PAN INTO THE FIRE…...
In Greenwood we thought it strange that the RCMP were posted across the street and surveying us as we unloaded the truck at the motel.
With the truck unloaded in what was a normal country motel room, tv, fridge, bed, couch, microwave, bed, Gilbert was at home, I asked the young girl about the ‘no pets’ sign on the door. She said, that ‘the old owner had no pets they were pet friendly but couldn’t get the signs off the door. ’ Gilbert was really happy sniffing the carpet continuously. Some dog had obviously piddled and there was a noticeable fresh stain. I’ve trained Gilbert not to pee inside even when other dogs had marked the place. We were glad Gilbert was happy.
Leaving Laura I drove about the nearby backwoods little more, not seeing game but happy to be exploring. Greenwood has easy access to logging roads and the whole Jewel Lake area is tremendous terrain.
On the way back I stopped at a Greenwood restaurant advertising ‘char broiled’ and ordered up Irish Stew and Beef Dip, Burger for Gilbert, fries, desserts, a great $80 meal for two. Oddly the older counter lady when she asked what brought me to Greenwood, and I told her hunting, told me “I don’t like hunters. I don’t like that they kill things.” I felt like I was in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. This was a mining ranching community and small towns thrive on the wealth of tourism dollars that hunters bring in to the economy. Yet here was this woman, who did say she’d lived most of her life in Vancouver and just moved to Greenwood, somehow ‘against killing’ working in a restaurant that advertises barbecue. I couldn’t help but remember the Facebook meme of the woman saying, ‘why can’t hunters be like normal people and get their meat from the grocery store where no animal has suffered or been killed.”
Laura and Gilbert were delighted with the delicious meal we ate together watching Bruce Willis and Schwatzenager escape from prison. . I was so exhausted from flogging my poor old body all day up in the mountains and motorcycling motocross that I was almost fell asleep eating so lay down on the bed. I was exhausted.
Laura told me then, “the sheets in the bed haven’t been changed. It’s full of black hairs, even curly pubic hairs. I tried to swipe them all off while you were out. I looked for bugs the way Catherine taught me and I didn’t see any. The towels aren’t clean either. There was actually poop on one. I thought it was strange the way it was folded. That’s when I found someone had used it to wipe their bum. I smelled them all and none of them are clean. They smell of BO and the tubs never been clean.
I was too tired to do anything then excepted I was worried enough about bugs to put my clothes in my case and get it off the floor. I figured I’d launder everything when I got back home. . Right then I needed sleep.
That’s when the first motel shaking bang reverberated through the room set Gilbert barking ferociously. I calmed Gilbert. Then Laura and I lay listened to more and more loud noises.
“Do you think they are doing renovations. It’s past 10 and it sounds like somebody smashing things into the wall.” she said as we stared up in horror at the dirty ceiling.
“There are girls laughing and party sounds, with some guys shouting and then these big smashing sounds.” I said.
“It’s almost like they’re doing construction and having a party.” she said.
“Or smashing fist and heads into the wall,” I said.
Thankful, I fell back asleep only to be woken a couple of more times by huge crashes and more swearing and yelling with girls giggling. The last I remembered it was 4 in the morning.
I got up at dawn and headed out in the woods, admittedly perplexed at what karma I’d done to end up in the Bates Motel. I was so intent on hunting I didn’t chivalrously worry about Gilbert and Laura
Truck hunting is a fairly communal event. We drive around in the back woods and stop to chat. Without sleep and my body aching from the day before all I was up to was trucking hunting. This was good because I met lots of locals. When they asked we where I was staying in Green wood, I’d tell the and they they’d all shake their heads and say ‘sorry to hear that.”
Asked how I was finding it. I said , “dirty, worst I’ve ever experienced. I’ve stayed in some sketchy places in Africa, India and Asia but this Canadian motel takes the prize." One fellow, laughed and said, ‘there’s a young man with them whose into drugs and crack and since they came to town there’s been a lot of drug types coming and going. I expect that’s why the police were watching you. They were running this immigration scam too I heard where they hired people from overseas, didn’t pay them and then had immigration deport them. Watch out for your credit card. One guy had an extra $1500 rung up on his bill when he stayed one night."
I met another woman and her man out hunting with their boy and was asked the standard questions, and told them about the poop on the towels. “That’s awful. Nobody recommends that place. We’re surprised that they’re not shut down. Apparently they’ve broken so many municipal laws and the young man has done damage in town with his drug addict friends."
After that I couldn’t hunt. Chivalry once again kicked in. I figured I’d gone from pretentious bullying Mrs. Bouguet to the mother of the Bibbi Boys crime family. I had to get Gilbert and Laura out of there. At least they liked dogs I though. .
So cutting my hunting holiday short, rush back, tell Laura we’re leaving and I’ll explain on the road. With Flashman speed Laura had everything packed and was sitting in the truck with hurrying me to go. I’d payed a couple of nights but so what. Laura told me that there when she’d taken out the garbage she’d found the trash full of liquor bodies. She said that while I slept she’d been awake all night wondering when the wall would crash in or a gang would break down the doors and kill us. “I”m so thankful, you came back and we’re leaving."
As we drove down the highway, Laura told me more. "People kept banging on the door and trying the nob, and coming and going all night. I looked out to see it was this young guy looking crazed. . Cars were coming and going and this morning there was a whole lot of angry shouting. Some woman was throwing up. The girls were just giggling so I figured this must be normal here. "
It just seemed like I was in the DTES, and I’d taken my work home with me. Such a lovely little town in a pristine setting, everything so beautiful but it was like the worst of the club houses my biker friends and I had been in decades back. Laura said she’d been unable to wait to wash her hair in the morning because of how dirty the pillow case was. I’d not showered because I couldn’t stop thinking of the poop on the towel. Laura hadn’t told me which one it was.
On the way out, we stopped at the bakery and coffeehouse Laura’s brother John had told us about. It really was a little touch of heaven after our tiny bit of hell. The very clean ladies and girls there were thoroughly delightful. I got myself the quiche and Laura had the lemon and cranberry muffins.
We drove out of town. The Good , the Bad and the Ugly music was playing in the background.
Passing through Rock Creek Laura said, “Im feeling better and better the further away we get. For such lovely scenery and pleasant little towns I’d never have guessed two contrasting hells."
“I’ll take the chains smoking dog hating raging OCD over poop on the towels” I said.
It was surreal. Admittedly one of our most memorable expeditions. Laura and I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to stay in motels again. Thank God for truck campers and RV's!
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