Bonanza Resort, Horse Lake Bc

We had arranged an extended long weekend for the end of summer.  Laura arrived in her little red Smart Car at 9 am.  I loaded my white Ford F-350 truck with the Honda 2000 generator ,West Marine Inflatable Kayak, the Excalibur Crossbow and Winchester Coyote Rifle.  The KTM 690 motorcycle loaded easily onto the front rack. We were off. Gilbert the blind cockapoo was so excited.

As usual I began singing Willie Nelson’s « On the Road Again....One more time we’re on the road again. ». Laura said she’d had that album when it came out and Gilbert barked excited to be part of a new adventure.

In Chilliwack we picked up the Adventurer Truck Camper. Each time loading was getting easier, especially with Laura watching while I carefully back the truck in place before lowering the jacks. « Stop! Stop!, ‘ she screamed as I backed up nearly knocking the camper over.

At Hope we picked up DQ hamburgers with cheese and a patty for Gilbert who doesn’t like the bun.  It had begun as a stormy cloudy day with heavy rain in Abbotsford but by the time we reached Hope the skies were clearing.  I love the drive up the canyon on #1.  One summer we’d left the RV at the Boston Bar RV park coming up Friday night to enjoy several weekends there. 

At Lytton we saw the goats again. A whole herd with babies on the side of the road. 

« The goats were here a decade back when we came this way, » Laura exclaimed.  « I wonder if it’s the same herd. » I loved the photos I took then and took more now.  What a treat to see. Wildlife up close.  The babies were precious.

I love the High Country.  Vancouver by the sea is on a lowland plain but as you go up the canyon you eventually arrive in the most incredible high country with sage and tumble weed. Great rolly hills. Cattle and cowboy country.  BC is world renowned for the great ranches of the area.

The sun was out. The heat was dry. One of our favourite stops is the rest area with the fenced off leash dog park, picnic tables and toilets. Gilbert loves all the smells and wandering about, big dog, off leash. He still bumps into things but he’s safe.  He  loves it. I think he has the memory of these places we’ve been so many times before. 

I always feel the mould and fungus from the lowlands  zapped dead with every breath I take.  The joints felt better.  The head felt clearer. Once in the high country the smog and city congestion seem a world away.  You really can see for miles. Who music plays in my head.

At Cache Creek we stopped to supply at the Grubstake Market.  A terrific country store with excellent food selection and lots of odd bits for campers and sportsman.  We headed north on #97 highway.

I’d not booked a campsite. The BC Provincial Parks allow you to reserve them.  They fill up early for long weekends. When I first looked I could have booked Big Bar or Green Lake but wasn’t ready to commit.  I wanted to be off the clock and explore.  We’d stayed at Gold Trail RV Park in Clinton before and could again..  Highway #97 continued on to 70 mile house and 100 mile house.  

Laura and I have always said how much we loved Hundred Mile House each time we drove through.  The even have a little hospital clinic.  It’s named 100 mile house because it’s one hundred miles north from Lillouet on the Frazer River where BC’s gold rush trail began.  Heading north from Clinton the rolling hills gave way to rich green forest, Douglas, Fir, Pine, Spruce, with marshland and little lakes were ducks gathered. 

« We actually considered moving here, » she said . They had a little hospital clinic that looked so inviting. I’ve loved the Pawnbroker Exeter Sports store and Laura the pharmacy and town stores.

The little Hundred Mile Motel and RV park was full but the manager kindly directed us to nearby in town Campground on Horse Lake Road.  It would have been perfect but an addict’s needle left on the picnic table.  Coming from the downtown east side Vancouver where I work in an addiction methadone clinic seeing this here was saddening.  There’s no getting away from the government mismanagement of an epidemic.

We were mostly stopping to sleep after a long drive. We love the camper.  Jacks out, camper stable, We were set up. I took Gilbert for a walk at dusk.  After dark we’d step outside and looking up  enjoythe expanse of stars in the glorious sky. There was a trail around the town that began there. Gilbert and I walked down it a little before returning.  We snacked on  late night sandwiches before turning in for a great sleep..

The morning was perfect. . Laura loves having the  Adventurer shower and bathroom. I just loved making stovetop expresso coffee and reading my western novel. I’d found this Johnny Black Classic Western series by Gary Church and was absorbed in escapism. That historical fiction revolves around the 1860

The Gold Rush Trail here began in the 1850’s.   

We pulled up the jacks and saddled up in the Ford F-350 Lariat to continue East on the Horse Lake Road into the famed BC Interlake country between Litle Fort on the Thompson and 100 mile House.  It’s all part of the Caribou Region and includes Canim Lake, Green Lake, Lone Butte, and Fawn Creek.

I’d been curious about Lone Butte a little settlement I’d checked out on Google Earth earlier in the week. It was a short drive.  A gas station and country store with an amazing Lone Bute Sporting Goods Store, so well stocked for fishing, hunting camping. I’d later buy a sweet spin casting rod and reel there when I concluded my fly rod was the reason I wasn’t catching fish.  We were on Horse Lake then and everyone was catching great trout but me so it had to be the equipment.  On Facebook I was looking at pictures of Bill catching huge trout in the interior and Doug catching gargantuan salmon off English Bay. 

Responding to my questions about camping, the lovely Asian ancestored lady in Lone Bute directed us to Bonanza Resort.  It was only 8 km away in Paradise.  

The Bonanza Resort had everything rustic, a row of little log cabins on the Horse Lake shore, docks for fishing boats, campgrounds and an RV park.  There were shower and laundry facilities, wood for outdoor fires, and a little store.  The people all were wonderful. 

We were given the sweetest place on the shore before a great tree underneath which ducks liked to sit and preen themselves.  I pulled in and jacked the camper level after hooking up to electricity and central water supply then running the sewage hose to the septic system.  It was perfect.

No boom boxes. Lots of adults and children and dogs.  Everyone so respectful.  An older couple stayed nearby in an RV supervising this area while the office and campground had other folk available. It was an amazingly wonderfully run site with lots of Europeans by the mix of language we heard. We had a lovely young German couple beside us.  

I got the KTM 690 MC off the truck and suited up to ride all over the back country exploring my new terrain. Laura sat at the picnic table with her buddy Gilbert who lay beside her fascinated by all the smells and sounds of ducks,  dogs and children that came by.

I found a place where I could bow hunt the first day of the season and headed out at the break of dawn, well more like 8 am.  I actually saw one doe running away a long ways ahead of me.  Thanks to Deep Woods Off which I sprayed all over to ward of the pesky mosquitos I was able to have my nap with bow and rifle out in the woods undisturbed.  No animals came by.  So I killed some targets and rode back to join Laura and Gilbert.

Lawn Chairs, bacon sandwiches, Ethiopian expresso coffee and Johnny Black Classic Western.  I felt exhausted with all the work and wasted the day away in the sun. I did cast a half dozen times with the fly rod but I’m impatient.  

The other big task was to get the West Marine inflatable kayak out on the water. I’d picked up a pump and paddles at the great Canoe and Kayak Store in Abbotsford.  I inflated the boat and now all I had to do was get out on the water.  

Laura laughed watching me get into the kayak, not quite inflated enough, water running over the sides so I sat in a puddle. She got pictures of my graceful entrance with feet and legs in the air and me trying not to tip.  I got the hang of it and actually paddled out on spectacular Horse Lake.  The beauty of the area was unbelievable. One of our friends actually shared they’d once had a cottage there. Several others had been to Bonanza Resort and shared on Facebook what a great time they’d had. 

We had a loon that called at dawn and dusk. We had great blue skies and fluffy white clouds.  The weather was perfect. We watched a storm cross the lake one day, the skies going dark then the clouds moving along and clearing. 

I loved my lawn chair and Kindle. I barbecued steak. We relaxed.  It was over all too soon but heavenly while it lasted.

No terrorist attacks. No drug addicts screaming in the streets. No dead bodies showing up in the back woods.  No daily traffic jams. No tv or radio though we could have had them if we’d wanted. We had wifi and cellular coverage.  

We called this Glamping. Just peace and tranquillity. Here and there a dog barking.  Old people young people.  Camp fires. Children swimming in the lake.  Lots of fishermen catching fish. Lots of lawn chairs.  Apparently I wasn’t the only one doing nothing but enjoying there.

The place emptied a bit with the long weekend ending. Back to school for kids. We had Tuesday as a travel day and enjoyed the leisurely ride back to Vancouver. Definitely a long ride but the best of company. Gilbert sat in the back seat high up on the luggage and Laura beside me talked to him all the way home.  She included him. When we stopped for A&W Momma Burgers and onion rings and fries he got his own burger which Laura broke up and hand fed him while I drove south. 

The drive down the canyon through the various tunnels, Hell’s Gate, Sailor, Alexander was spectacular eye candy. I love this route never tiring of it.  It’s so much more picturesque than the Coquahalla which of course is faster and straighter.  We couldn’t stop at the fruit market we stopped at if we’d been on the Coquahalla.  Leaving there we were munching on plums and BC apples.  I had a fresh supply of honey and marmalade as well.  

In Chilliwack we dropped off the Camper, one of the jacks needing to be done manually while the other 3 worked electrically from the remote. A minor problem to be solved another time. 

The Langley bottle neck wasn’t even that severe given it was a weekday. We were home in record time and had the truck unloaded and gear stowed.  

Laura stayed the night.  Netflix snacks and couch. Some crazy folk were having lots of drama and acting badly on a spaceship.  Then early to bed to work the next day. 

What a fabulous time. BC is God’s Country. We loved Bonaza Resort, Horse Lake and the whole BC interlakes with the spectacular canyon drive.  This country is truly glorious. We are so grateful. 

North to 100 mile house

When Laura, looking pretty, arrived Friday morning at 9 am, Gilbert, the cockapoo went crazy, barking, circling, sniffing.  It was great to see her.  We had a five day weekend together with Gilbert.  I immediately brought my white Ford F-350 around. . I have a motorcycle mount for the front of the truck.  I attached that then loaded the KTM690 enduro.

I’d decided also to take my West Marine inflatable kayak along. I had the Honda 2000 generator too. Bear season was open for rifle and deer season for bow.  I had  Winchester 300 Coyote and the Excalibur crossbow. It was the opening of bow hunting season on Sunday.  We’d planned a travel day going and returning with Sat. Sunday and Monday for outdoor adventure.

Laura travels light with an Eagle Creek carry on luggage and colourful sack.  I have the cammo duffle bag and Harley Davidson bag that together carry gear and clothes.  Gilbert likes to use these to sleep on high up in the back seat as we drive along the highway≥

I keep my Adventurer Camper at the unbreatable Chilliwack RV Storage.  From Burnaby to there it was only a couple of hour drive despite highway construction.  We’d stopped at Abbotsford’s great Canoe and Kayak Store to buy another paddle for the kayak.  

Laura and I are getting better at positioning and loading the Camper. It’s less anxiety provoking and really a good feeling when a second bouse was on the back of the truck as we pulled  away heading north.  

It started a cloudy stormy rainy day but miraculously the sun came out as we drove from Chilliwack to Hope. The corn fields were ripe. The glorious evergreens began to replace the farm lands as we ascended out of the Fraser valley floor.  At Hope we took the #1 highway that splits offf from #3 to Princeton through Manning Park and Coquahalla, the high country freeway.  I stopped at DQ and got us all DQ hamburgers with cheese, Gilbert just likes the paddy.  I’ve taken to having mine without the sauce driving. No need to change shirts. 

Laura and I recalled the spring summer and fall I left my Forest River trailer in Boston Bar coming up weekends.  The road has all the old railway tunnels. Sailor, Alexandra and Hell’s Gate..  We always remember the time riding the Harley together home we’d hit the road fault entering the tunnel, We’d become airborne forever going from light into the dark at 120 km per hour, only able to pray before we hit down in total darkness passing safely on.  The truck and camper are the latest in a series of travel camping arrangements.  We like it the best today.  Every possible camping vehicle combination was on the road north with us, some carrying bikes, quads or pulling trailers or boats. There was a recreational exodus north.

At the rest stop with the fenced off leash dog park blind Gilbert loves I changed from jeans to shorts. We used our own toilet and just loved the high country sunshine and heat.  I’m always ecstatic once we come out of the lowland to the high country sage and tumble weed country.

A herd of goats greeted us in Lytton.  It was 10 years before when we were in a car with tent in the trunk that we passed a similar herd of mountain goats on the highway and walking about the town.  There were young with therm and they all looked healthy and robust.

The views of the river winding through the high country tumble weed hills were spectacular.

At Cache Creek we stopped at the Grubstake Store we’d visited in past years. A lovely oriental couple have really outfitted it well for campers and fishermen. We found everything we wanted and now had a fully stocked camper.  We even had Hagen Dash ice cream bars to enhance our glamping experience.

Lots of nostalgia passing through Clinton.  Laura reminisced about walking here when Faith was still a baby her mommy’s tummy. Now she’s a going concern.  It was here I shot my first moose with Bill Mewhort 30 years before. We hunted mulies in the high hills back in those days,climbing high up the mountain before dawn to meet the game as they left the rivers and lakes. 

It was temping to stop there. But I was in exploring mode.  I’d bow hunted Hundred Mile House with Tom seeing lots of deer though not shooting any. Laura and I loved Hundred Mile House  having stayed here several years before and even considered it as a possible place to live. 

Now here we are in the municipal campground. The 100 mile House RV Motel and Park were full.  Not needing hook up it was just nice to park after a long scenic day of driving. Sandwiches sufficed for dinner.  Gilbert loved the new dog sniffs and walks.

On my iPad I read a kindle western before falling asleep a little after Laura who’d been reading about a woman pilot in the war. Gilbert cried in the night to be let up on the bed but settled when I shhhhd him.  He’s jealous I get to sleep with his favourite person and he’s left down on the floor in his own dog  bed.  Life isn’t fair.

There was promise of aurora borealis but the sky was cloudy so we didn’t see the night display.  The fresh cool air was a delight.

Waking this morning in the pine smelling outdoors by a running stream  was heaven.  

One Hundred Mile House and Bow Hunting

What a rush it is to get these expeditions ready.  Expeditions they are. I just regret that I have only a few days because the preparation for weeks and days is about the same.  The plan was for the the 4 musketeers, Tom, Gilbert the Cockapoo, Laura and me,  to head north for the long weekend ostensibly to bow hunt mule deer. While I've been blessed to shoot deer and partridge with bow and arrow, that is the rarity, mostly this opening bow hunt weekend is more "wildlife viewing".
Early in the week Laura informed me that the outlook for the weekend was rain everywhere.   Tenting didn't seem that attractive with that forecast. We thought of taking the RV but the Ford F350 engine glitch remains.  $2000 of maintenance later and the truck wrench icon screams imminent death with uphill acceleration.
Still One Hundred Mile House is one of the most incredible places for wildlife  with nearby Lac La Hache great for fishing.
Laura was still up for tenting, trooper that she is.  However, when I emailed her the website for Ramada Limitted, I got a text back saying immediately, "that looks fabulous and  would be nicer if it's raining."
While Laura and I had a short but hectic week of work, with the increasing distress of  the overburdened health care system, Tom was doing his best to ensure that the Ford and the Honda 500 Pioneer were ready for action. It was a good division of labour.
I didn't get out of the office till 8 pm. Any day out of the office means 2 for  preparation and payback. There's no robot doctor. What once was  once a steady stream of work has for many if not most of us become a constant torrent. The paperwork has multiplied exponentially, with a similiar rise in laws, minefields, dragons, protocols and players.  Most of the newbies really  are just overpaid critics without accountability and jolly good at spending other peoples money.   With all the hostility and workplace toxicity, physician suicides at an all time high, doctors threatening strikes, patient waitlists till forever, nurses unhappy, unrealistic demands,  beaurocratic vampires, impossible political promises. and public hangings , shame and hypocrisy;  every weekend away is like a blood transfusion.  I come back to the front revived ready for the next declaration of cutbacks and shortages.
I finally arrived home to see  Laura pulling her Eagle Ridge wheeled luggage bag out of  her  little red Smart Car.  The skies opened and the streets flooded. Tom was already at the RV sitting under the awning.
"The Ford and Honda are ready!" he said. Great news.
"Whose for pizza?"I asked.
Laura and Tom nodded while Gilbert's tail began to wag at the word 'pizza'.  Dogs know the human words that are important to them.
Canadian Pizza brought us the best meatlovers Pizza.   With the propane heater turned on and heavy rain beating on the roof we ate ravenously, sharing tidbits with Gilbert.  We watched a TV episode of the Big Bang Theory,  this generations  Seinfeld cum Friends mix. My parents watched Honeymooners in their day.
Morning early we loaded  the truck with our bows and cammo gear.  We stopped again at Cabelas for arrows and a new hard cross bow case for my Barnet Compound Cross Bow. My Excalibur Max has it's own soft case.  I'd hoped the Barnett would take an attached quiver like my Excalibur but it didn't. I got Tom a canvas hip hung quiver like the one my ex wife had made me when  I'd had a Browning compound crossbow.  More arrows and razor blade points.  Also a white tail deer tag, just in case.  Laura got a conservative comfy tartan camo pj set.  I got a couple of winter sleeping bags.  Good to 20 below. It's past the summer sleeping bag weather so if we do choose to tent again we're now ready.  At Tom's we hitched up my AB boat with the Honda 30 hp hoping to get in some lake fishing.
Tom drove us up and out of the Valley.  Leaving the rain forrest and coming up into fresh air and tumbleweed country of Ashcroft and Cache Creek is always a joy.
At Clinton we headed off the highway  onto the logging roads.  Immediately we saw a huge female moose moseying across the road.  After that we saw a big mule deer.  It was black bear season and we had tags but the black bear we saw next seemed  to know it was safe in the Provincial Park on the other side of a fence.  It was just standing there looking at Gilbert and us all.  But I don't take shots unless I'm absolutely certain it's legal. The consequence of breaking the BC Conservation Law is that all of one's gear can be confiscated on the spot, ATV's Boats, Rifles etc.

"I think of hunting as a sacred matter. Everything must come together in a Godly way.  Sure we could shoot the bear  and no one would be the wiser. But we both know 'we'd know'. "  We're probably past the park boundary but it just doesn't seem right, " I said.
"There's  still the fence, " Tom said.
BC Hunting regs say that you can only hunt on 'private land' with permission.  In the past, the land had to be 'posted', i.e. 'no hunting signs' but now the onus is on the hunter to know. Even if we  were outside the park boundary, and shot the bear,we could be breaking the law. We didn't know whose fence this was.  It's just all round easier to hunt in true wilderness.
"When in doubt, it's best to say no," Laura said.
Gilbert thought we were all fools!

We saw more grouse along the road.  Gilbert was not impressed with his hunting team. By the time we came back on the highway  darkness was coming on. At 100 mile House we immediately saw the Ramada sign coming into town. Checking into the Ramada Limited the young  good looking manager was terrific, friendly and helpful.  The Ramada was clean and the staff were the best. Gilbert was welcome but had to be on a leash.  Lots of parking.  W'e saw others had boats and ATV's with them.  Lots of expensive new trucks in the country. The manager said the parking lot was safe, they'd not had any problems.  Away from the centre of town it's  less likely to attract thieves.
Each day the Ramada had a morning continental breakfast which I only got to enjoy the final day. It reminded me of the European hotels we enjoy.  I talked to young manager  and learned that he'd been to University of Bombay.  I'd been there and loved Bombay.  He told me about all the development since I'd been and discussed the changes that have taken place there and in Canada in recent years.

Tom and I were up at 7 am to go hunting, leaving Laura and Gilbert to sleep in.  Tom had bought a whole new set of cammo gear on sale at Cabelas and was looking way too spiffy.  We loaded up with the A&W breakfast sandwiches and coffee then headed up Exeter Station road to the trails.  Parking the F350 we unloaded the Honda 500 side by side Pioneer.  Tom and I named it "Charles'.  Because it was called 'pioneer' we thought of 'chuck wagon' , considered calling it Chuck but thought 'Charles' was more distinguished and fitting.

Soon we were motoring along at about a jogging pace enjoying the  drizzly morning.  I just love being out in the wilderness. We had our cross bows strapped on the back of Charles and a rifle each in the cab.  I'd ridden enough rainy and snowy times on my Yamaha and the Polaris before it to appreciate the joy of the Honda 500 Pioneer's roof and windshield.

We came over a hill and there was a whole herd of magnificent mule deer a couple of hundred yards away. They actually let us stop and observe them. One buck had 4 points with it's velvet still on the horns. Another buck was a two point and another a spike. In addition there were a half dozen does.  I sure wished it was rifle season because I'd have had the 4 point for sure. The cross bow is best at 50 to 100 yards in my hands though others can shoot further more acurately.  It was Tom's first bow hunt so I cautioned waiting for a better shot. As we stalked closer on foot the bucks took off bouncing into the woods leaving the doe to watch us unperturbed.

We left  the ATV and with radios, bow and gear, separated for a stalk and sit.  I hurt my back drawing and cocking my bow.  That was humiliating. I have a draw string to reduce the tension but had it improperly positioned so really did everything every back doctor or chiropracter says not to do  bending straight over and pulling straight up with straight legs.  Humbug!
With my bow cocked and my back hurting I headed out into the woods realizing my knees were not happy either. They simply were not used to climbing over big rocks and my stability wasn't what it used to be.  I really had to be more careful.  What a change from a man who ran up and down hills scarce years before.  Still I'm thankful for the mobility.  Injuries to my foot and knee in recent years had made it so  I'd not even been able to stalk the previous season. It really felt good, if a little painful, to be stalking along deer paths in the deep woods.   I found just the right clearing where I could sit in ambush. I started out meditating then settled for  a nap, drifting in and out with an ear cockd for snapping twigs.  Nothing.

Three great Sandhill Crane however suddenly rose up in the air not a hundred yards away from me. What a surprise.  I'd later see there was a little pond they must have spent the night in. What majestic prehistoric looking birds they are.

Around 10 am I was stiff and cold and not a little restless.  Only a couple of hours into the hunt and wanting to be moving about. My former guide friend old Bill who was big on morning ambushes would have shook his head. I went looking for Tom surprised I was so close to the road having walked through the woods and come back on the road we came in on.  I climbed around the hills some more before getting back to Charles.  I was glad for the thermos of coffee.  The rain had stopped. The sun was poking out of the clouds. Such a lovely place.  Pine and spruce trees, green everywhere. I discharged my crossbow, stupidly losing the old broken arrow I used to save the bow string.  I drove the ATV down to the end of the road and then back again to find Tom who'd seen me go by and walked back to the road to join up.  He told me he'd  come across another herd of deer with a couple of bucks.

"If I'd had my bow cocked and a little more confidence, I 'm sure I could have got the second buck. It walked right in front of me at about 75 yards."  he said, excited.

We climbed on Charles and began driving slowly along the trails.  A man and woman on two quads passed us. They were just sight seeing. We'd seen a couple of younger guys on Arctic Cats with long compound bows riding quads earlier but no one else. Heading down another somewhat overgrown road we surprised another herd of deer. We were only thirty yards away when two deer high tailed it out of there while a couple of more just walked ahead of us into the woods. Tom spotted one huge deer when I stopped the vehicle so I jumped out.  I'd just cocked my bow with a big mule deer still standing only 30 years away.  Tom meanwhile had gone the other way after another deer.

The trouble was I couldn't see if this deer had horns. I stalked as quietly as I could hoping to glimpse the head which was down chomping grass behind some bushes. Without my ever seeing it's head,  it moved off leaving me with another great 'one that got away' story'.

Tom had one in his sights only to find he couldn't squeeze the trigger.  The deer got tired of waiting and Tom figured out the bow "safety" better so he'd not miss again.   I'm not judging, only the week before I'd missed a rabbit because I couldn't get the clip to seat in my rifle.Such mishaps make one appreciate appreciate why soldiers are forever cleaning, oiling and working their equipment.

It was a great morning with a lots of sightings and near misses.  We even saw more grouse but only ptarmigan were in season.

"Ptarmigan are the ones with feathers on their feet," Tom said.

"And they're more black and white than brown and red," I said.

Back at the Ramada Laura had been out walking Gilbert who was ecstactic to see us.  Much barking and greeting licks before he settled down. Laura had been enjoying the latest Harlan  Coban novel and said how much she enjoyed the Ramada service.

That night Tom and I drove around in the truck exploring the region. I'm not much for night hunting anymore.  I really did enjoy the seat heater on my back and it was just fun to drive about the backwoods. We actually came out at  Lake Helena a fabulous spot full of RV. Lots of ATV's and kids and big fires, boats out fishing and generally a really good feeling wilderness camping place.  Two people had the same Keystone Energy toyhauler as I do.  I  enjoyed talking with one fine fellow about it's load and towing and how well it handled on the rough back country roads.that lead into Lake Helena. I'd only had mine really offload once when we all were moose hunting. I hadn't towed it with the ATV in the garage either.  Right now my garage is a really large junk drawer. Towing heavy loads concerned me.

"I just have to go slow on the up hills," he told me.  "Otherwise the RV  handles well on the back roads. It's a tough built toy hauler. "  He had an F350 truck same as me too.We also discussed hitches  and tailgates.

Following  the road out we came to Lac la Heche and headed south on 97.

Back in 100 Mile House at the Superstore I picked up a barbecued chicken,  deli salads, buns, chips and dip, paper plates and plastic cutlery. I even got Hagen Daz ice cream.  Back at the Ramada we had a feast watching Fear of the Living Dead.  Tom and Laura were not that impressed with my choice of zombie fare but loved the food. It's really roughing it when you have to bring in your own Hagen Daz.

I'd got Gilbert a rabbit squeaky toy.   He sure had fun with that.

The next morning Tom was up in the dark and his ludicrous enthusiasm got me going. I dressed like a stiff zombie ,  somehow getting myself and gear out to the truck.

Back in the wilderness again we had Charles off the truck and loaded up a whole lot more efficiently.  Again we drove slowly into the back woods.  No talking.  Just the quiet chugging  along watching for the very well camouflaged deer.  When we got to an open area Tom spotted one bounding across the clearing.  We parked Charles.

I found a really nice spot on a trail and enjoyed the rain stopping and the sun coming out of the cloud cover.  More dawn mediation. No deer came by but I really did enjoy my time sitting in ambush.  It's a meditative time.  I've had too much on my mind with all the stresses of work and family. It surely helps to sit quietly in prayer, listening to the forest,letting go. No animals came.  Eventually I returned and met up with Tom at Charles.   I do love thermos coffee.

We drove about after.  No bear. No ptarmigan.

Stopping in a clearing we saw  a few deer on a hillside about 1000 yards away. We thought of stalking but it was too far and too open and surely the deer would leave.

"Let's ride Charles around the back and come up behind them on another trail." I said.

So that's what we did.  Stopping at a place we thought we could stalk in on them. The wind direction was better too.  Tom took the one side of the ridge and I went down the other side following along the ridge we thought we'd seen them on.

Sure enough 2 doe passed right in front of me at 50 yards. I waited and looked and looked for a hoped for buck following them. There was one but he saw me before I saw him. We looked at each other 50 yards away with  his head in a bunch old tree branches making it impossible for me to know if he had horns.  I was trying to lift up my binoculars with the strap caught on something when he turned and literally disappeared.  I just had a perfect side view of a  perfect 2 point.  I thought, if I'd just used the telescope on the crossbow and not messed with the stupid binoculars I'd have got him when he turned  It was simply not meant to be. I was winded and sore too after running up the hill after him, vainly hoping for another shot.

I felt like Tom had and later we'd talk about being 'dumb and dumber'.

I had laid a trail of bits of kleenex hung on branches but chasing uphill after that buck I'd got off my trail and decided  instead of backtracking to to head back out by dead reckoning.   I get lost alot.  I knew though  that Tom was about and I'd cross the main trail eventually if I couldn't find where we'd parked. I had  a Garmin GPS and compass watch but still I didn't find Charles where I thought it should be.

Tom and I were each carrying Motorola Waterproof GMRS 2 way radios.  I called him up and told him I was lost, asking him to fire off his rifle to help me get directions.  He did and I was a ways away.  Getting closer I fired mine off and he tried to triangulate me to his position.  I found the original road we'd come in instead so called him up to tell him to come out to me.    The trouble was he'd lost the key. Dumb and dumber.

I hiked in to where he was and we looked all over for the key. I had my set but we didn't want to lose his set.  Not only was the ATV key on his ring but the titanium chain lock I had as well.  We drove back over the places he'd been where he thought he might have had them fall out of his pocket when he'd taken something else out. No luck.

Back at the truck we loaded Charles on and left his cammo rifle cover on the ground. It had got soaked in diesel so we'd not left it in the cab.  Dumb and dumber.  Now something else was lost. And Neither of us had been able to find the old arrows we'd shot off to protect our strings when we uncocked the bow.

Back at Ramada Gilbert was ecstactic to see us.  Laura had taken him for a long walk exploring the town when the rain had stopped and the skies cleared.Tom ,going through his new Cabelas came outfit, found the pocket he hadn't looked in. Sure enough there were the ATV and titanium lock keys.  Good find.

In the evening we took Gilbert along for what was planned to be just a drive about the woods in the truck. We saw lots of grouse almost hitting one that flew up as we passed it. No deer. No bear.  No ptarmigan.

Then there was a horrid grinding growling noise coming from under the truck. Tom figured it was the brake sticking but that we'd be able to drive  back.  We drove back picking up some fried chicken and wedges at the gas station..

"Don't call them wedgies," the lively counter lady told me.

It was a great meal and late night television since the morning hunt was off due to the truck problems.  I was glad for the sleep in.

Holiday Monday, everything was closed. I'd phoned all the numbers for repairs I could find on line.  Lordco Parts was open. We decided to wash the truck before going there.  We were able to get the parts to fix the brakes with new calipers and pads. Tom figured he could do the job if needed. The Lordco guys however told us about George at Country Tire.  George did emergency repairs. George was great.

"Bring it over in an hour."  Tom was up for that. I went back to Ramada and had a very good continental breakfast while Tom went off with the truck to see George.  Tom likes to get involved in mechanical things. Normally I might  too but with a stiff sore back I was more than happy to let the professional doe the job. A couple of hours later Tom was back with the truck all healed.

"George at Country Tire is a really great guy.  He really knows his stuff."  Tom said. Now that's great praise coming from an engineer who routinely does his own car and plane  repairs.

It was a late start but we actually saw a couple of white tailed doe on the way home.

I drove down the canyon to Hope where we got burgers at DQ. Gilbert sure loves getting his little hamburger paddy which Laura breaks up in bits for him. Tom drove the rest of the way to Vancouver where he dropped us off at midnight taking the truck with him to get it ready for next weekend's opening of rifle season.  Gilbert is going to finally get to be a grouse retriever again. No more won't watching with dismay as we let partridge get away.

The Ramada Limitted was really lovely. 100 Mile House is a great town.  We've loved all our visits there. Everyone is so friendly and they really have most everything a country person needs.  Laura looked at the real estate papers and said that there were some perfect places.  We'd seen the same thing in Kamloops. The more uninhabitable Vancouver becomes the more attractive the rest of BC remains.

It really was a great weekend.  I certainly appreciated Tom and George solving the truck issues.   We both loved Charles the Honda 500 Pioneer. It was Tom's first time bow hunting and I really think he is hooked. Laura enjoyed hanging out with Gilbert and reading Harlan Corban without interruptions.

I am sure the deer  and bear were especially glad they out smarted us.