“I’ve got a smoker,” he reminded me, for encouragement.
Laura arrived early the next day. 9 am start. Excitement as we pulled onto the highway.
2 hours of waiting. “I heard there had been an accident at 5:30 in the morning,” she said as we inched forward.
‘I am so disappointed in government. They constantly abuse the citizens. Tens of thousands of people heading out for a much deserved vacation are stuck in their cars because of gross highway mismanagement. Canada, the City of Vancouver, and British Columbia simply doesn’t understand the principle of keeping roads free.” I was irritated. Thankful to work from home after years of watching the grossest incompetence and the whole ‘legal-insurance’ game insolently disregarding the masses of tax paying citizens who are routinely abused by fat cat socialist bureaurocrats ignoring unnecessary traffic jams.
“They announced they’re having another study to see why traffic slows at Langley when there isn’t an accident. They did that study a couple of times already and the results each time said they need more roads.” She said. It was 2 hours by then and we still hadn’t travelled the half hour to Langley. Several yahoos, impatient with weed and booze and hang overs and wives and kids had tried jumping the cues riding recklessly on shoulders around me to move two or three cars ahead. The typical legislated catastrophe was seeking more accident victims.
“In Communist China traffic jams go on for weeks.” I said.
She laughed.
It was noon when we finally cleared the scene of the accident. A truck was in the ditch.
“I just wish the one lousy driver who causes these accidents that hold up thousands would go to jail.” She said.
“They will go to hell, that’s for sure. Accidents can happen but this whole drama and all the delays are unnecessary. I care because I pay taxes for these people to do nothing. The criminals don’t care. It’s ‘something rotten in the state of Denmark’. The whole country is rife with corruption at every level and it shows in the increasing failures in society. It’s worst in the Democrat states in the US. They’ve got China’s high paid fifth column blocking the roads. It was no better here when criminals blockaded roads and railways claiming they were protesters and suffered no consequences.”
Victor called when we just got through the traffic. “I shot a moose. “ he exclaimed. “Rather my son shot a moose. We’re headed back to town. I’m feeling pretty good now”
“Glad to hear. We’ve been in traffic for 3 hours getting to Langley but we’re free now. We’re going bow hunting in the interior.”
“Good luck,” he said. I was glad he was happy and proud of his son’s accomplishment.
We loaded up in Hope. “I love the Hope grocery (Buy0-Low Foods).” I said when I was handing up the groceries to Laura standing in the camper, stowing.
“I do too,” she said,”They’ve got everything one could want along with things you used to only find in town.” We’d love the locally made bread on this trip and the great steaks.
At Princeton we stopped for fuel and were charged double by the Husky attendant. I told her but she said it was okay but when I saw my online banking sure enough I had been double charged. Irritation. I have to phone Husky and report it. I’m finding more errors and checking receipts now. (I phoned Scotia Bank and Visa folk told me the girl at Husky hadn’t charged double but in fact had charged me correctly. So here I was carrying Langley abuse with me, paranoid, projecting it on this poor girl because the pump had frozen and I thought I’d been ripped off. I thanked the Visa folk for restoring my faith in my fellow man. I love Husky too so am glad it was me, not them that screwed up.)
‘They had a news program and there’s a increase in theft and scammers in Canada because of the government debt and unemployment.’ She said.
“I can’t believe all the middle class and elderly people waiting in the food lines by the church and by the food bank.”
“I certainly didn’t vote for the corrupt incompetent clown in office but his greed, arrogance and incompetence hurt everyone. At least the people who voted for him, except his elite cronies, will suffer the stupidity of choosing a fatuous pretty boy because of the name brand.” That was extant of political talk for the rest of the weekend.
The Princeton Pet Store had locally made liver treats which Gilbert loves. We stopped and loaded up. He’s on four medications for his valvular heart disease and congestive heart failure. Only one of them tastes good to a dog. The furosemide and spironolactone and vetmedin I hide in liver pate and reward with one of the dried liver treats. Rob, our biologist friend with dogs told us about the liver pate. I’d been using bologna but he’d been spitting it out. Now there’s no twice a day struggle and we were restocked with the Special treat. He’s actually sits up morning and night looking forward to medicine time. Thank you Rob.!
The town RV park was full as we believed. So were all the wilderness sites along the river and in the native serviced area. With a truck and camper there’s no need to be at a campsite but Laura likes people near when I’m off in the backwoods on an ATV. She’s been a trooper. She’s tented in the woods. I’ll never forget the first time I left her by Tulameen with a 4-10 with slugs in case of bears. “I”m afraid of bears,” she said. She has her unrestricted and restricted fire arms. Another time I returned and a snow fall had collapsed half the tent. She was in her sleeping bag reading with the rifle beside her. The worst was in Grizzly Bear country when I had the truck tent and left her beside the other campers. I was up on the mountain north of Pemberton when I looked down to see the other camper’s truck pulling out. I headed back to the camp and she was in the cabin of the cab patiently waiting my return. Gilbert used to come along with me but the last couple of years I moved back from 4 wheelers to two wheelers and he stays to protect Laura.
The Pioneer was traded for the KTM 690 and now that I no longer risk wild and crazy off road romps I hoped the Vespa would be work just fine on the country roads and logging road mains.
We heading up the mountain with the Ford F-350. Laura, of course, remembered the time I took her up here in the truck and we got lost because the fires had destroyed all the recognisable terrain. The sun had set and I’d had to retrace my path along precarious mountain logging roads over ominous burnt out terrain that looked like moonscape. Laura worries.
“It’s dark in the city by 8 pm,” she said. “It’s darker earlier here because of the mountains”.
“We can pull over and camp anywhere. I would like a place by a stream. There are several I know. I’d like to find them but we can stop anywhere, if you want.” I said.
“It’s okay.”
(It wasn’t)
“I just don’t want to be setting up in the dark.”
Laura just ordered new glasses but even if she had those her night vision wouldn’t be any better. She’s blind in the dark.
“There’s a coyote,” I said.
“Oh no, What about Gilbert.”
“It’s not going to get Gilbert.”
“He’s blind. Coyote’s eat little dogs.”
“He’s not going to eat Gilbert. Gilbert stays close by us and coyotes are afraid of humans.”
“Not in the city. They’ve come right up to me in Point Grey. I thought they were just another dog.”
“They’re tame in the city. Did you see how fast that coyote ran ahead on the road when we came around the corner. In the country they’re afraid of people. Farmers shoot them for killing their stock.”
A while passed. ‘There’s no one out here. We’re completely off the grid. This is really wilderness,” she said. She was worrying.
“It’s a logging main. Even on the weekend there will be other hunters. Not many. Two or three maybe but during the week when men are working, logging and mining, we’re always surprised at how busy the woods are.”
Naturally, I took the wrong road. Just like last time. But I finally came to an intersection I recognised as the wrong one and turned around to retrace 10 km of travel.
“We don’t have to go back now, do we?”
“This is the same way we went that night I got lost. I recognise it. Better to go back and get on the right logging main where the cows were than risk missing the turn further ahead. I don’t recognise the area up here since the forest fires changed everything.”
“It’s getting later.”
“I know.”
The cow was standing on the road but moved aside to let us take the turn,.
Two does coming down the hill turned and ran back up the mountain.
I had to back down.
“I don’t like this.”
“It’s okay. It’s only a few car lengths. If you got out and watched it would help.”
“No it’s worse. You can’t hear me.”
“It was true I was going deaf.” So I just backed up a truck length at a time and made sure we weren’t going over the edge. I had the back up camera Eric installed but I’d not read the manual to figure it out. The old fashioned way cautiously backing up down the steep road putting on the brakes and putting the truck in drive each time even with the heavy camper worked.
“I have to pee.”
“We can stop and you can pee anywhere” I said.
“I’d rather pee when we stop to camp.”
“It won’t be much longer. There are several sites along the creek coming up.”
The first was taken by tenters with trucks and ATV’s but a couple of miles along the sweetest campsite imaginable was off the road by the mountain creek. I pulled in. “Is this okay?” I asked.
“It’s beautiful,’ she said.
The trees were orange and green. The mountain creek made a lovely sound.
“We’re close to the highway too. “ I told her. “If I didn’t return you can walk out that way and it’s something like 10 km to the main highway. There ‘s the VHF radio the truckers use up here and we may even have emergency cell here but it’s for sure closer to the highway. You and Gilbert will be okay. I can even walk from here. I don’t even have to take the Vespa anywhere. We’re here.”
“There are still bears out here.”
“I hope so. It’s bear season and I have my rifle for the bear and my bow for deer. Remember that time we had the bear outside our camper in the campground. I couldn’t shoot it because of the other campers around. Here I’d shoot it. You’ve got a gun here too. Shoot a bear if it bothers you. I love this. In the Yukon my friend shot a moose each year as it walked through his backyard. Maybe I could be so lucky.’
I parked with the back door facing the creek. With the truck braked, I stabilised the camper with the happy jacks. She was using the washroom. Then she organised a bit while I was unloading the Vespa. I couldn’t wait to take it for a spin. It performed perfectly on the logging mains. Better than the KTM 690 which was higher off the ground for rougher terrain. I liked that I sat low and bungeed the rifle standing up in the back seat while carrying the Excalibur crossbow over my shoulder. Perfection.
Back at the camper she’d made sandwiches with the deli meat from Hope.
“I’m too tired for a big meal.” She said.
“Me too. This is just perfect.” Gilbert was already asleep. The night time settled in. I couldn’t find the tea and had some weak instant coffee. She was in bed. I was in heaven. I walked outside down the road. Enjoying being in the country The sky was a spectacular ink blue with the prettiest constellations of stars. The whole galaxy seemed closer. Night sounds from the woods. Otherwise quiet.
When I crawled in to bed, she said “I love the quiet. It’s been so noisy in the West End of Vancouver. People screaming all night. There’s this fellow who claims he’s a Christian but he’s not a Christian I recognise. He’s got a loud speaker and starts screaming ‘Homosexuals repent. God will judge you.” At 4:30 am. A fellow apparently told him, “I’m not gay but I don’t like being woken up each morning by your shouting.” The loud speaker guy had a couple of thugs with him and together they broke this guys legs. A Good Samaritan. We all don’t know why the police won’t do anything. It’s horrible sound pollution.”
“Just like the call to prayer in Muslim countries. I hated being woken by the lousy PA systems. There’s something about loudspeakers which grates. I don’t think they should be alllowed in the city. I don’t even like the buskers with PA’s,” I commented.
It wasn’t long before we were both asleep and light was coming in the skylight where we’d been looking up at the night sky.
Gilbert coughs. It’s a routine. He’s standing at the end of the bed wanting to be lifted up to be with his love. She gives him his morning massage. I lift him up as pass into the toilet. Then there’s coffee. All the while she’s spoiling the little bear. I didn’t feel much like hunting. I’d woken at dawn and gone back to sleep remembering younger years rising in the dark to be in ambush for the dawn. Now I just wanted coffee.
I got him down after my first coffee too take him outside for a pee. He has to do that before the medicine. He happily wandered about the campsite blind before taking a dump near the woods. After that he was glad to take his medicine. Laura was up washing up in the camper toilet. A lovely loo with shower and sink and toilet and mirror.
I fried up bacon and we enjoyed bacon sandwiches. The Maple Bacon from Hope Grocery was perfect. More coffee.
“I love bacon sandwiches,” she said.
“I know.”
I was reading a novel and enjoying it. She and I sat reading. Gilbert had his morning nap. Life is good. The sun rose. It became really warm.
I set up targets and over the weekend sited in the cross bow and rifles. I sited in new Ruger bolt action .223 The government had outlawed my Ruger semi automatic which Ruger had made especially for varmint hunting. It was the perfect rabbit rifle. The irony was our ignorant fearless leader called it an ‘assault rifle’. He’d call his own penis an assault penis if he was truthful. The fact remains that the word ‘assault rifle’ is a marketing slogan which could just as well apply to a fork. There is a modern military rifle which is sometimes called an ‘assault rifle’. It’s distinguished by three settings ‘automatic, semi automatic, and single’ shot. You can see that designation on the side by the trigger allowing a military man to have automatic fire. There’s no need for automatic fire hunting but semi automatic allows you to keep your eye on a rapidly moving target while shooting first a couple of rounds. That’s the case with rabbits and varmint. I often hit therm on the second shot, head shots at a distance being difficulty. The irony with the ‘legal’ bolt action rifle I now have is that it has ‘nato’ engraved on the barrel. Most likely this refers to the .223 round which is one of the two standard NATO rounds. Popular because it’s cheap and low power and light. The heavier NATO round is used by snipers. I like the .223 because it really is a great round for target practice. It’s the standard for international competition firing. My new bolt action .223 was just that. The .223 round was chosen by the military because it’s not so likely to kill as wound forcing the victim out of action with possibly a buddy or two needed to get him back for help. For hunting it’s good for small game though my grandfather killed a treed black bear with the even lighter load, the 22 LR. That was my first rifle as a boy and the one I did competition shooting with when I obtained my Bronze award
After siting in the .223, I’d sited in the over under 22/20 gauge and then the big Roger stainless steel 30:06, that got the name Sexcalibur because it was the first stainless steel and looked so sexy in the light. The Sexcaliber and Over Under 22/20 gauge were along solely for the purpose of siting them in this weekend as together they would become the main rifles when rifles season opened next weekend.
Just before we’d reached the campsite after seeing the deer we’d have a grouse fly up beside the truck. This weekend I’d see three more grouse on the Vespa and a family of five out hiking.
We lay on lawn chairs. I barbecued steak in the afternoon. The sun was spectacular. It was hot with a light breeze. Perfect weather. I sited rifles. Laura read Kindle novels on her iPhone. I eventually took a walk about in the evening and sat in ambush with the cross bow and .223 and my back pack. I was beside a game trail that went up into the mountains not far from the camp. I’d found it the first night when I walked about. Nothing came along. I walked back to the camp in the dark greeted by Gilbert with his coughing bark. He has to cough to breath. His trachea, the vet says, collapses because of his enlarged heart.
We’d bought potato salad in Hope and it was delicious.
One meal was barbecued smokies and potato salad
Another meal was barbecued steak and Caesar salad. I love barbecue.
I headed up to the top of the mountain on the Vespa so enjoying it’s climbing power. No deer. No bear, but great vistas and photographs. The cell reception was fine at the top of the mountain and I checked my voice mail. Thankfully no work related calls that needed answering. It’s just magnificent to look at all the endless country from the top of the mountain. I used to experience this skiing at Whistler. The same at sea. Down in the valley you just can’t ‘see for miles’ and it’s just a rush to be able too.
I shot at a rabbit. I saw three but one actually encouraged me. I had to stop the Vespa, take the bungee cords off the rifle case, get the rifle out, find the clip and load it then the rabbit still sitting in the distance, waiting let me shoot the first shot at it’s head. I saw the dust from the shell hit just in front of its nose. There’s not a lot of meat on a rabbit if it’s not a head shot. I do the same with grouse. This rabbit was blessed. Three shots, each kicked up dust in front of it’s nose and it didn’t move. I decided to walk closer and missed the last shot as it ran off, it’s great hind legs finally pumping fiercely away.
That was it. For game. I did get pictures of grouse and birds. I did wash in the mountain stream, bathing each day with Irish spring. It was exhilarating. I even got to use the Honda 2000 generator to charge up my iPad and our iPhones so Laura and I could read our novels. We had lots of sleep. It’s so serene in the wilderness. I saw flickers, crows, whiskey jacks, robins and nuthatches. There was even an osprey that flew over me when I was on the Vespa on top of the mountain. It’s wonderful being in the Canadian woods.
Laura and I and Gilbert love the Adventurer camper.
“When you were away, I was sitting on the lawn chair with Gilbert lying beside me. There was a noise in the woods and immediately Gilbert climbed up the stairs to get back in the camper.” She said. Later I’d encounter a young cow where Gilbert must have imagined a Grizzly. Blind, with a sore back and bad heart, he’s not the intrepid little guy who barked at bear and jumped on the antlered heads of two deer I’d shot but were trying to get up when attacked by cockapoo.
A great weekend. I’d made two small fires to burn our paper garbage watching with a 5 gallon water can near. I poured water over the fire each night before going to bed. It was nice to have a fire in the night.
There’s a chill in the morning. Autumn is here. Winter is coming. Time to pack up and go back to the city. We’ve a rifle hunt planned and hopefully then I’ll get some venison. I was raised on wild meat, hunting with my dad and brother. I’ve hunted all my life and do love barbecued moose, bear ham and venison stew. I love off road motorcycling and I like target practicing too. I had a fun time doing that this weekend. I’ve shot deer and grouse with my bow years past. But that’s all icing and cherries on the outdoor camping in the Canadian wilderness experience. . Mostly I think of the bow hunt as a great excuse to get out for a wonderful long fall weekend in the country.
Laura loved the quiet. Gilbert just likes to be with us.
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