Harrison Hot Springs Resort

It’s wonderful to be here again.  So many weekends and more in Harrison’s and the best of times at Harrison Resort. Laura and I share so many memories here, motorcycling here or staying in the Camper. We stayed often in the old Bungalows, loving their privacy and quaintness.  We loved the Harrison Beach when we came on motorcycle because of the locked underground.  The Resort has the best of hotsprings.

I’d hardly checked in leaving Madigan and Laura in the room as I headed down to sit in the picturesque outdoor hotsprings, the earlier drizzle having stopped.  After an extended time there enjoying the great outdoors I moved inside to the really hot pool  I literally revelled at the beauty of a Latina with her young sister or daughter.  Then the older man and woman got up to leave, the woman helped her white haired husband .   I realized that’s what I looked like.  The DOM (dirty old man) eying the beautiful young goddesses. Time to get out of the pool and head back to Laura. 

She really is beautiful except Madigan is trying to hump her leg and has romance novel heavy breathing. It takes a day for him to settle down, I think the Chinese should sell a line of robot sex dolls for our pampered pooches on leash or under observation in dog parks.  Poor Madigan.  It’s spring and I tell him no yet again when his unrequited love latches onto Laura’s calf. 

We walked around the small pool. The big lake was calm.  The geese and goslings were patrolling the lawns.  What a lovely day.

The heavy agenda has more reading and room service with a movie planned for tonight. I tried to organized a massage for Laura but they were all booked for the weekend.  I’d seen Dr Ready, the chiropractor yesterday and am feeling really good.  

Thank you God. I’m reading my course on Prehistory and just studied Animism and tokenism.  I balk at the objectivization as it’s all God to me so the energy of trees and rocks is all. We live in the imagination of God.  I believe our forbears, the first Homo sapiens being 30,000 years ago , Homo Neanderthal and Denosovan a 100,000 years ago. And Lucy, Austrolopithecus( I saw Lucy in the sky with diamonds)in Ethiopia from 3.2 million years ago.  

We project our fears onto them but they may have had far less uncertainty in their lives for lengths of time. I liked learning that some hunter gatherer’s who lived next to agriculturalist chose to remain hunter gatherers because it was a less demanding lifestyle.  I liked learning too the the Neanderthal’s and Dvaidian’s mixed with Homo Sapiens in Europe and Asia but that in Africa there are pure Homo sapiens that don’t have the DNA of Neanderthals. I may have 4% Neanderthal genes.  

I ‘mwatching Dexter ,on Netflix the psychopath with the vigilante code.  I am amused by the archeology writing that questions the demise of earlier humans , including homo erectus and others. Yes it may be many factors but my money is on Homo Sapiens being better killers and more deceitful.  Maybe our romance and highest spiritual values come from our Neanderthal genes.  The Black Jesus then would be a challenge.  I like that the oldest law in the world is the Chinese law of the fish: are big fish and little fish and the little fish must be fast and numerous.   Then there’s Voltair’s:Steal a little and they put you in Jail, steal a lot and they make you king.  

I’m enjoying it here.  It’s wonderful to be with Laura in this sacred place of sensuality and spirituality.  I really enjoyed the time the Christian Medical and Dental Society had their annual meeting here.  I also learned that the mafia would come here to meet and discuss their enterprises in Vancouver and Seattle.  I loved bringing Mom and Dad here and renting a cabin.  Such a wonderful place.  Thank you Jesus

Hope and the Palomino Maverick Truck Camper

The guys call the camper, “Laura’s Tent”.  I can’t argue I really do appreciate the security and luxury of the camper. It’s still a steep learning curve.  Together for the first time we tried to back it into the slot.  The battery had run down because I’d obviously left something on.  That meant the electric struts had to be manually cranked up.  This took time and significant muscle power.

“I said I needed exercise, so here’s God’s gift.” I told Laura who stood by holding onto Gilbert.  She can’t even reach the switch let alone man the handcrank.

Once I had it up, with a wind blowing, I was sure the camper was going to nose dive into the back of the truck.  It didn’t.

With the help of the black line Mac had told me his Dad had used, and I’d painted on a couple of weeks before I actually had it almost aligned first time but we hadn’t accounted for the cable which needed to be under the camper to reach. This resulted in a half dozen more tries and one bang that had both Laura and I convinced that was it, both Camper and truck were toast.

Ron, who John the kind owner of Chilliwack RV had called in to help with my refrigerator problem, was still in the park working on another RV.  I asked him if he’d mind helping.

“Sure, no problem”.

“Line her up. Crank this way. All the way over this way, Now hard left,  a bit right. A couple of inches backwards. No, too far, an inch forward.  There that’s good.” The camper was perfectly seated in the back of the truck.  We’d bumped the camper lightly and whereas Laura and I had died with the bump, Ron was nonplussed. The camper’s obviously were built tougher than we imagined not that I plan to test their tolerance.

I then remember the chains for tie down.  Wow! It would have been easy to forget those.  With the bike and the generator loaded, we were off.  We’d left Burnaby at 230 pm , a slow traffic drive and an hour in the lot, we were on our way east at 6 pm.  Not bad. It felt good.  Road trip.  

Ron had also taught me how to light the propane on the refrigerator though it still didn’t work because it didn’t ‘whoosh’ to power and because the battery had died and the slide was in covering the battery box, he’d not been able to test it.  With the truck idling while I was cranking the struts I’d been able to get enough power to move the slide in and out to get the bike in. 

We were on the road, the same rolling motion of the boat, but barrelling down the highway. I’d been hankering after more wilderness camping but with the battery needing charging and Laura wanting luxury we reverted to our ‘original’ plan to go to Hope where we’d looked at a lovely river site, Telte Yet Campsite,right beside the big Frazer river. We’d have town water, electricity and charge the battery to full and even have a chance to dump the waste at the end of the weekend.  Luxury.

The people were really pleasant and helpful There was 30 amp service sites available. People tent there too. Right beside the town so I didn’t worry about not having everything.  Laura guided me out back,tentatively. 

“I was terrified when you were backing under the camper.I thought the whole thing was going to fall over and crush Gilbert and me.”  

Now I just needed binoculars to see her in the mirror. But it really wasn’t a challenge. When we’d back up the first RV in Boston Bar when I couldn’t find a ‘drive through’ ,now that had been a trial. This was just backing up a truck. Two tries and I was positioned in the site by the picnic table and hand’t driven over the pup tent in the site beside us.

Either side were retirement age folk or people who’d lived really hard and looked retirement age but were still in their youth.  The man had three women with him. One was elegant and friendly asking us where we came from. They actually turned out to be from White Rock and like us just enjoying a different view and less city.

We’d brought more ‘stuff’ to stow and had the carpet and chairs out, water and electricity and Gilbert watered and fed in about a half hour.

Leaving Laura and Gilbert I rode my Torino electric rad bicycle with a Harley Davidson chain lock to Fields.  I have the Harley Davidson state of the art lock because more people would try to steal this bicycle than they would my Harley. At Fields I bought a $24 camo back pack.  Then at the country store I proceeded to buy more supplies than I could load in the pack sack and on the bike.  I’m
surprised at my capacity for overestimating the load but still somehow managing to carry it. This is always a conversation matter when I take the motorcycle to Costco and return with a truck load of stuff ,when I just planned to get a chicken,

I had the Little Caesars for Gilbert, a bone, cold ginger ale for us, chips, Hagen daz Vanilla ice cream, the specially made ice cream for roughing it in the wild, chocolate bars, and perrier.  I normally pedal on the bike to look athletic but with the load on I just road back on the electric bike getting waves from the Harley riders passing through town.  I manage 30 km.

Laura and Gilbert were settled in when I returned, having had more exercise. 

After I remembered where I stowed the barbecue I had it going and Laura gave me the beef whiners from Costco I’d brought. She had wiener buns from Cob’s and gourmet mustard.  The fellow next door was barbecuing steaks and commented, “You’re the chef of your outfit too, I see.” There’s as a certain whimsical cynical turn of phrase as we’d both obviously done the heavy lifting bits while the ladies all looked lovely.  Laura was sporting a new purple and white sun dress and the bracelet her friend Melody had brought from the north. 

Soon enough we were sitting in the camper with hot dogs and chips looking out the window at the passing river.

“I love the quiet.  In the city in the summer, there’s just so much noise, shouting, music, cars, banging...sometimes I like it a bit but mostly I just long to be out here in the quiet. “ she said, her apartment in Vancouver’s Westend epicentre.

I have this theory of consciousness with cities being dense nodes and the further out the more our consciousness can loosely expand. I love the lightness of being feeling sailing solo and sometimes in the wilderness I’m almost there. It’s so relaxaing.  

I didn’t sleep that well, it was hot, I could have put on the air conditioner but liked the breeze. Still I woke a few times missing my CPAP. I wondered too if it was the a bit of the notorious ‘smog’ air that sometimes settles in Hope. Still I was restless for a couple of hours, my mind not settling, worrying about patients, trying to push away the frustrations of work, falling back to sleep, only to wake at 6 am to Gilbert harrumphing at the bottom of the bed. He can’t get up on his own. I let him up and he did the squirmy licky thing. Thanks to Laura being there I only got half the attention.

A little while later I got up and walked him about the camp. It was 630 am. Only one other fellow was awake.  Peaceful. Even the town wasn’t awake.  Gilbert loved the walk and blessed the ground with 4 big offerings which I duly picked up and placed in the proper cans. It really disappoints him that I don’t appreciate the effort he places in the spot he chooses and the cultural significance this all has for his canine species.

Back in the camper I lifted him up to get his morning massage from Laura while I promptly fell back to sleep.

 I woke again at 930 am and see my neighbours leisurely coming out of their trailers to sit at picnic tables or or lawn chairs cups in hand.

I’ve got a cup of Kona coffee. I loved that islands coffee when I’d anchored my sailboat there. I ground the beans. That’s probably not something I should mention in a story about roughing it.  I Think I’ll grind another cup,though.. Laura has got up. She has a cup of the Nestle’s instant she prefers.  It’s a touch demanding schedule I can envision today.  Reading and lawn chairs. The sun is wonderful with the breeze off the river.  

Sunday, May Long Weekend, Cabin Life, Princeton BC

Gilbert fell off the bed at three in the morning.  The crash had both Laura and I up worried the blind little guy might be hurt. I sleep with a flashlight, iPhone and large Bowie knife by the bed.  In defence the heavy flashlight might be best.  In the light Gilbert was standing there with his stick.  His stick had fallen off the bed and he had followed it over.  I looked at my watch then and saw that Naomi had had ber baby Faith and Derek had texted us before midnight. We’d gone to sleep at ten.  Fat fingers fumbling with the little screen I pressed the stock message, ‘in a meeting, will get back to you’ and thanks.  I found iPhone then and texted congratulations and hallelujah.  ‘In a meeting’ so inappropriate for such a sacred herald.  The stock phrases on iwatches need to be upgraded.

In bed Gilbert pushed Laura over and Laura pushed me over and I clung to the edge of the bed all night.  For a little guy he hogs a lot of the bed.

It’s sunny today.  Blue sky. Fresh air. Riverside cabins.  A pleasant retreat.  I’ve made espresso coffee and had my second cup. I’m not satisfied till I’m trembling.  The day is a blank screen to write a tale on.  I’ve suggested omelettes again at Thomasina.  Laura’s in the shower now.  Gilbert’s asleep in his bed. I’ve gone out in the court yard and with the wifi there downloaded mail and facebook.   Rodeo pictures of Anna and the god kids.  Faith, the new baby, looks most healthy and very pretty indeed.  The Royal wedding is still in the news.  Rev Peter Elliott vacationing in  Europe was pleased with the American sermon at the English wedding.  A letter with pictures of the half naked stars of Cannes came today from a friend, all looking more like harlots and  pole dancers than professional actresses. The post had  the title, ‘they complain they’re sexually harrassed’.  The news says that the name Melania rises daily in popularity as a baby name.  She speaks so many languages and is more educated and refined that the carne talk show hosts whose jokes are now 2 years old.  The American embassy in Jerusalem is a big deal. The peace talks between North and South Korea are incredible as well.  

I’m doing nothing but reading historical fiction novels in the sun.  I finished the Brignanshaw Chronicles by the Incredible writer Peter Rimmer, a new Wilber Smith. I’ve read three of the series and now must wait for the 4th to come out.  Great history of family and Rhodesia.  Now I’m reading about the 14th century John Ball peasant revolt over the outrageous taxation of the people.  Apropos with PM Justin Trudeau impoverishing Canadians to pay off terrorists, Pakistan while spreading abortion and communism.  The price of gas is obscene today.  

I am thankful though that I got a cabin rather than tented. The rain last night and wet ground would have dampened tenting. I’ve done it so many times and lived under tarps and slept on the ground but Laura who has been a trooper through so many of those adventure deserves this space she enjoys with kitchenette and hot and cold water showers.  

She’s content to read and lie about. I feel ‘restless’.   Not so ‘irritible’ and less’ discontent’ but I do feel I ‘ought’ to be doing ‘something’.  I expect I’ll get in the truck later and drive about the backwoods shoot targets and watch for a bear wanting MAID.  I’d just as soon shoot a rabbit.  I’ve become more sentimental than I was younger.  And lazy.  But it’s always godly in the hunt. There was a veritable otherworldly halo about the deer I shot last year. I almost heard the angels singing ‘this is a gift for you’. Shooting is natural for food.  It’s more intuition than reason and not at all emotional except for the hungry.

I dreamed I was on a new ship. I’ve a penisula where I go and there are friends and family from throughout my life that are there. Sometimes a meeting o the old women and I’m a little tike, more often I’m a young man with other young men and women in some warm climate with my sailboat and I’m in harbour.  This time I had a magnificent sailboat not 40 feet but more like 100 or 200  feet or more. The state room could seat 20 around tables bolted to the floor, lovely china tea cups. . I was also in a room with all kinds of books but mostly children’s books and sitting on the floor I was excited at the thought of having time to read these once a gain. The deck and cockpit were magnificent with excellent rigging and a well cared for engine. A couple of friends were helping with odd jobs.  One room looked like my storage locker and I was having help sorting it out.  

I’d dreamed of my mother. She was beautiful as only a small boy could know. Her red hair and freckles lovely in the sunshine.  I am happy when I dream of visits from the family. Sometimes the dogs who have gone before are frolicking too.  There have been so many deaths of loved one these last years. I am thankful that I just see this as another room.  Many mansions.  Quantum reality. A kind of heaven.  In my case I’ll have a boat and meetings rooms prepared for me.  

Waking is kind. This weather is sublime.  So much green and the relative quiet of country. Small town reality.  I talked with a neighbour who rode in on a n 850 cc Yamaha motorcycle. Old men pleasantry..  Another man with two boys and I talked about dogs and sons.  These traveller conversations a day brings.  Casual communication.  Waiting for Godot.  Walden Pond simplicity.  Outside the screen door there’s a tall lilac bush. We’ve been enjoying the scents.  At night we burn the sage soy candle and it fills the room with sweet fragrance.  

Laura is out of the shower. My turn.  I bought another knife yesterday. Locally made from found factory steel and antler by a local old man. I felt good about supporting the local economy, useful artistry.  Over the years I’ve given away knives and Bibles among other things.  I once gave a way the finest pens.  Gifting lets me replenish myself and gives me comfort.  Now to the shower.  Then the omelette and then I don’t know what I’ll do.  I’m not making it to church. I’m a good winter Christian but in summer I’m more Constantinian especially when the sun is out.

Treestand Hunting

Victor is a serious moose hunter. Every year he bags a moose from a tree stand. He'd been in a motorcycle accident years back causing some injuries to his back and leg that made humping about the backwoods a bit too painful for pleasurable hunting.
Since flipping my Polaris Quad my back had been hurting. So I asked him about the treestands I'd recently seen in the Cabelas catalogue. (Cabelas is the one stop shopping for adult males who've outgrown the Sears catalogue.) Everything related to hunting all manner of game in all kinds of conditions is found in Cabelas. They've even opened a new store south of the border near Bellingham and it's been my plan for a year to get down there and attend a hunter revival meeting. My friends Luke and Sonny had been and they were pretty much ecstatic describing being inside a Cabelas store like they could walk as Lilluputians right into a Cabelas catalogue
Victor borrowed my Cabelas Catalogue and said he'd look into it for me. Next thing I know, Victor has a newer Cabelas bigger cadillac tree stand and has sold me his old one for next to nothing. He said his was lighter but now that I expect the new one might have hydraulic lift, hover craft and heated seats that made it more appealing than the original basic package. For me the price was right and I figured if this had worked for Victor it was surely going to bag me a moose on it's own. Given all the good mojo it had collected with Victor I kind of hoped it would maybe fall on an animal and crush it in the night so I could just come along and collect the game.
It was spring when Victor showed me how it went up. It was fall when I first took it hunting.
Tom is a Queen's University Mining Engineer, Airplane Pilot, and sailed back from Hawaii with me one summer after I sailed solo to Hawaii one winter.
Meanwhile I'd found a place with regular moose highways all over near Clearwater BC. It was a perfect place for a tree stand. I'd carried the treestand all over in the back of my truck by then looking for just this spot. Finally Tom and I were going to assemble it and put it to good use.
It has a big seat at one end and a half dozen interconnecting scaffolding bits for the ladder. Left to my own devices I'd have had the seat facing the tree but Tom turned it about on the ground getting the bits facing forward to save me later embarrassment.
Getting the 16 foot high contraption up against a tree was a whole other proposition. First the tree I had originally picked was hardly 10 feet high. The next tree we picked was high enough but had a little tree in front of it making for later difficulties. It really should be just one tree and bare tree at the bottom. This little tree caused the whole thing at the last moment to shift so only half the of seat was against the tree and half of the brace. But that only came to light later.
Having watched movies of the Alamo and other Hollywood renditions of wall scaling in war by men charging with ladders, we naturally approached this 'laddered' tree stand the same way. Tom and I got under the ladder walking it up as we assaulted the tree. We forgot that in the war movies they are using light weight wood ladders, not steel scaffolding with a blood heavy padded seat contraption on top. That heavy seat at the top wasn't at all in a cooperative mood, either. The tree stand just about catapulted us back to the ground as it twisted away from the little tree and left us very glad there was no enemy above with cross bows and boiling oil.
While I was trying to remember what Victor had told me about getting the tree stand up, Tom figured a rope was the answer. Thankfully Luke had left one in my truck.
With this Tom got behind the tree and lassooed the tree stand pulling it up to the tree. That worked a heck of a lot better than our previously plan. He even went on to climb up the ladder tying the rope higher and higher each time, having me fetch him up the end. Pretty soon he actually had the stand up and tried pivotting to sit for awhile admiring his work, high up in the tree stand way, close to God.
Proud of himself, he descended, having tested the engineering creation said, "Now you can use it."
I remembered I was afraid of heights from falling out of Garth Robertson's tree when I was 6 or 7 years old. Though I've climbed sailboat masts, worked on roofs with my father and brother, it all seemed at that moment in retrospect, to have been psychotic 'counterphobic behaviour." The ladder was wobbly, seemed very flimsy and the tree stand seat was really really high up there.
Of course, I snagged my rifle on the safety bar that is used to keep a person falling out of the stand. I had to slither up through this opening and laying my rifle across the chair arm rests make this daring pivot. I snagged my coat and the knife on my belt bucket after that. I was exhausted from effort and terror when I finally had myself turned around so I could sit facing out from the tree.
Seeing I'd finally got myself in place Tom showed his approval by bidding adieux. He left in the truck taking Gilbert the cockapoo with him. Victor had given me a basket I could haul Gilbert up in like the Mediterranean monks had done. I figured we'd reserve that plan for another day.
It was nearly an hour before I became unfrozen and got a bit comfortable sitting way up in the ether near the space station. A bird flew by almost hitting my face.
The view though was incredible. The treestand is a great way to hunt. Unfortunately I nodded off and woke with a startle so sure I was falling that I almost threw myself out of the chair to compensate for the feeling.
Victor had told me "Don't kill yourself." I understood better what he meant now.
I prayed, meditated, looked at every shadow with my binoculars , ate granola bars and drank the coke I'd brought alone. I nodded off again, again waking with a startle, sure I was falling out of the sky. This happened a few times over the next few hours. Definitely very disconcerting. Also the no see um bugs found me and I'd not brought bug spray which was in the truck with Tom and Gilbert.
No game came however. I watched voles, chipmunks, whiskey jacks and jays come and go. But the moose remained elusive.
Finally because I had to pee I went back through the daring contortions that had me turned around in the seat not dropping my rifle and getting it over my shoulder so I could descend the ladder. Only my knife hilt snagged this time.
I'd got up and down the ladder a couple times more for night and morning hunting without successfully shooting anything but feeling better and more confident each time.
When Luke and Tom had gone off in the truck for early evening hunting and I was riding the Honda Big Ruckus, all of us agreeing to meet back at the lake , that last evening night, I decided as darkness fell to go the treestand and start taking it down myself.
I left a note for Tom and Luke by the lake and decided I'd start to take it down myself only to arrive in pitch darkness to find Luke's Toyota truck. Tom and he had come while the light was still out so Luke could climb up and check the system out. "Incredible," he said. When I arrived Tom and he with the scaffolding ladder on the ground.
"Taking it down was almost as much of Gong show as putting it up," said Tom. I couldn't imagine that possible so wished I'd been there to see this. Luke had loved it, seeing the incredible view one had. As the big game didn't have predators in the sky, they didn't look up. Clearly one could simply climb into a tree but the tree stand provided a whole other level of comfort to the experience. this was the cat's meow of technology. That I hadn't seen a moose wasn't a reflection on the tree stand but the incredible sunny late fall weather which had the animals having all night to cavort so that they were asleep early and late in the day.
I'd certainly recommend a tree stand. Taking a certified Engineer along the first time was a wise move too. Someone else might remember to pay attention to instructions or read them, if they consider this truly beautiful hunting addition. I was actually lifting my gun and sighting things the next day I was up in the stand. The first morning I didn't even lift my rifle but hung on for dear life trying desperately to stay awake.
Red bull would be a better tree stand beverage than Jack Daniels, just for those who might benefit from such advice.

















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Robbie Burns Dinner .m4v

Ballet BC 25th Anniversary Celebration

Ballet BC 25th Anniversary Celebration with Ballet BC and The Turning Point Ensemble with Conductor Owen Underhill is playing April 14 to 16 at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. Tonight was a rare treat. Artistic Director Emily Molnar opened the evening with thanks to the founders Jean Orr, David Y. H. Lui, Sheila Baggs, and present executive producer, Jay Rankin, the sponsors, contributors and audience.
4 original Canadian productions.. Les chercheurs de dieu choreographed by Serge Bennathan opened powerfully with a hint of whimsical.  The Turning Point Ensemble on stage participating with dancers silouetted in a night of magnificent lighting and costume.  I was moved, captivated, enthralled.  Dance and sound joined in heavenly wonder with moments of sheer profundity. Donald Sales and Makaila Wallace with all the dancers touched my very soul.
In Motion with choreographer Wen Wei Wang with music by Owen Underhill, Geometry of Harmoney filled the stage with big body movement of dancers together but little hand movements fluttering in the light.  Contemporary music and contemporary dance living and breathing as one. I love the dance of Leon Feizo Gas.
Moth, choreographed by Donald Sales spoke to loss with candelight and grief. Costumes in black and red.  Dancers Livona Ellis, Shannon Ferguson, Maggie Forgeron, Delphine Leroux, Peter Smida and Makaila Wallace.
Finally, Touch, choreographed by Gioconda Barbuto, music Anthony Genge, The Human Condition.  Alexis Fletcher, Gilbert Small, Rachel Prince were outstanding as were all the dancers.  15 dancers at least in the company, participating together, en mass, alone and as pas de deuxs..
The applause was enormous.  Yet somehow no standing ovation, not that the night did not deserve one but because we  all seemed mesmerized.. It was a magical evening of truly professional performance that left us feeling moved andthoughtful.  Throughout the year we've ushered from the theatre laughing at times, talking loudly about the brilliance of Ballet BC, delighted by the performances and grateful to be among the beautiful people at this greatest of gala events. Tonight, with the season ending, there was sadness, such a perfect season of incredible breadth and charm  had hardly been imaginable after the trials of the previous year.
Time to buy seasons tickets for next year. Without seasons tickets I would miss so many wonderful shows because frankly on Friday night or Saturday in the winter rain and cold It would be so much easier to stay home and watch tv.  With seasons tickets I'm moved to go, the decison made.   Vancouver is a richer more cultured and complete experience thanks to Ballet BC.  I lose myself in amazement at the sculptured sensations of movement and elegance..

Positive Economic Indicators for British Columbia

For many the recent economic crisis has left them traumatized and fearing for their futures. Good news is hard to find but here is some worth considering.

http://www.gov.bc.ca/keyinitiatives/economic_indicators.html