Leaving Vancouver 2 pm we arrived at Picard Creek campsite at 8:30 pm, taking time to pick up the Adventurer camper along the way. Sundown came earlier. The last bit of the drive from Summit Mount was in darkness with road construction and rain. Laura can’t see at night. I was driving with a blind girl and a blind dog. The dog was happy sleeping in the backseat. The girl not so.
Our first encounter at the campsite was a drunken belligerent low life screaming at me. « Get the fucking light out of my eyes ». I’d stepped out with a flash light to look at what looked like but wasn’t a site beside his campsite. I left with him shouting in the night and swearing, upsetting Laura. I just thought of the needle we’d seen on the picnic table when we’d pulled in the campsite up north a couple of weekends back. Now we had this drunk.
I felt defeated for a moment like I couldn’t leave the DTES. Canada after 4 years of Liberal government has encouraged low life and poor manners. Everyone has been encouraged to drink and drug and be offended by their neighbour. The good news is there was a place at the other end of the campground right on the side of the river. The air smelt wonderful and the sound of running water was bliss. Thanks to Laura standing with a flashlight I was able to back up beside the picnic table. Gilbert was delighted to be let out while I put down the happy jacks. We had arrived.
Snacks and reading to wind down. Then bed, glorious bed! I slept the sleep of the dead. It’s the air and forest. I had wonderful dreams and woke early. I was up early enough that a keen hunter would have been out pre dawn and ready to kill. I had coffee and scones from Cobbs. There’s no wifi. I’m reading a western. When it was light and I was dressed ,I took Gilbert out to wander around sniffing the immediate neighbourhood while I unloaded the KTM 690 motorcycle from the front rack on the Ford F-350.
It was about 730 when I headed out, the Brazilian 20 gauge shot gun for grouse strapped to the back of the bike and my Ruger 30:06 rife on my back. Riding up into the mountains I saw eyes staring at me and stopped to look back at a young brown bear. Maybe 2 years old. He didn’t wait around. I couldn’t get my camera in time so brought it out to the cammo jacket from where it was previously inside the leather vest I was wearing. I did watch the young bear run along the mountain side till he disappeared up in the forest.
I stopped on a side road and shot the 30:06 at a target 50 yards off hitting an inch from the centre. I love how my favourite stainless steel rife seems yearly to be sighted in. It’s become a bit of an extension of myself too. I’ve the Winchester 300 win mag but it’s the Ruger that’s my known and true tool. If ever I had to pick one it would always be the Ruger. It’s helped me bring home a lot of meat.
I really did enjoy riding up the mountain. The rain had made the gravel road less loose. The morning was splendid. The chug chug of the KTM was reassuring. So reliable. I loved the evergreens all around ,the occasional flicker flying up. Getting off and walking for a bit I flushed a grouse, hearing the thrum of its wings but not seeing it. If Gilbert wasn’t blind and was hunting with me we’d have got that bird and the others with it. I missed my little favourite hunting companion but knew he’d be with Laura being spoiled.
I kept coming across curious cattle standing on the road.I’d wait for them to let me go by. If one needs a reason to believe in a loving god, cattle is a good one.
The rabbits appeared along the side of the road same area they had in years before. I took a picture of one rather than risk exploding it with the 30:06. I’d shot several with the .223 in years previous, the smaller shell least likely to do damage. I was deer hunting too and didn’t want firing off rifles to scare the animals. I should have been sitting in ambush or stalking but I really did enjoy the motorcycle ride. Lovely mountain views. Great wilderness. Terrific motorcycling.
I surprised a cow and calf moose. They’re not in season but sighting moose is always a thrill Sighting any game in the woods is a treat. But moose are special. They didn’t wait for me to get out my camera either. I always feel that if I was hungry and it was post apocalyptic or pre modern times without all the hunting regulations and just an empty belly and hungry folk back home, I’d have downed a moose and even a young bear today. It’s fulfilling to feel ‘useful’.
I met three young guys in an old truck asking me about hunting. I told them I’d seen rabbit and no 4 point deer. They were takers ‘asking for information’ but giving none in return. Barbarians who were developmentally pre-reciprocity. Sad. I liked they were hunting but hoped they followed the laws. Too many poachers these days. Natives as well. The new world order has everyone entitled as a minority so no one thinking of the greater good and feeling a part of the greater tribe.
I continued on riding my motorcycle carrying two guns, thinking I looked like some old warrior wondering if they thought of me with respect or disdain. When I was young hunter I was so impressed and respectful of the old guys and learned all I know thanks to them. Grandad, dad, and my friend Bill Mewhort. These young guys were the only hunters I saw. Sad they didn’t have a white hair with them.
It was cold with the windchill of the motorcycle in high country. I stopped to warm up when the sun came out eating the tasty blueberry scones I’d brought along and taking a sip of Coca Cola. I liked the screw top bottle. I missed the thermos of coffee I usually have but had not been organized enough to make it.
On the last side road, a big ruffed grouse was standing in the middle of the road. He ran into the woods while I stopped, dismounted and pulled out the 20 gauge shot gun. As I left the bike and stalked forward I saw that he’d not run far but was perched on a log just yards in from the road. It was an easy head shot at 20 yards He was immediately flopping about dead. I didn’t even need to wring his neck. A number six pellet had gone into his litle head and another broke his wing. When I gutted him, the breast had no pellets and it appeared only those two pellets had hit him. I was glad. 20 gauge is so much better for upland game than 12 gauge.
A couple of older men with a pick up full of cut logs passed me. The two of them had been in the backwoods supplying themselves with heat for the winter.
I put the trigger locks on my weapons before heading out on the highway. I love the KTM 690 Enduro. Street legal, it’s perfect for off road and then jumps up to 100 km /hour to ride back to camp on the highway.
Gilbert was glad to see me. Lots of squirming, tail wagging and barking . Laura had the local low down on the number of dogs and types. We have a couple of lovely neighbours. Laura told me about the comings and going in the neighbourhood. She’d bathed and read her book and made herself coffee after a bit of a sleep in. She’d also walked Gilbert who loves it here.
I loved taking off the gear and getting into sweats. I made expresso coffee and then read more of my western novel, the law men getting the bad guys.
Another day in paradise.
I tried fishing too but not having worms lost interest casting.
Now I’m going to barbecue some steaks. We’ve got little potatoes to go with them. I’ll barbecue the grouse breast too.
I feel sad that the cost of gas now has so many people trapped in the city, so many homeless, people working several jobs just to survive. I really do count my blessings. Canada is still the great outdoors but it’s cities are becoming urban slubs.
On the way here, I heard Joni Mitchell’s song, ‘ They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.’ It was apocryphal. Thank God for another weekend in paradise.
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