Sunday, Cariboo Bonanza Resort, Horse Lake BC

We have so enjoyed our stay here. Horse Lake is between Lone Butte and 100 mile House in the Interlake Region of BC.  I’ve had a lot of fun getting my Coronado XT pontoon boat with electric motor out onto the lake. I’ve fished but not caught anything. Everyone else around me did. Rainbows and Kokanee’s. I also bought a Chiappa 22LR /20 gauge over under shot gun, the “Double Badger”. I rode all over on my KTM 690 motorcycle and shot targets. I took some great bird picture with the Nikon Coolpix P1000.  I read some westerns and sci fi novels. I scrolled a lot of FB and added flippant thoughts and political commentary with knee jerk genius contributing to the cacapohonousbedlam of social media.

I felt blessed. I prayed. I was with my beautiful friend Laura who is easy on the spirit. Gilbert the blind cockapoo with injured back, valvular heart disease and congestive heart failure was a true source of joy. He had us up all night coughing and struggling to breathe. We phone Dr. Biernacki at North Road Animal Hospital and he told us is was the higher elevation in the Cariboo that had caused it.  He upped his diuretic furosemide and Gilbert’s been so much better since. Yesterday he was rolling up and down the hill and playing with his ball. We have a family of ducklings join us each day with their mom and he is just fascinated by their chatter.

We’ve had wonderful heart warming fires and beautiful sunsets. Everyone about has been so civilized.The resort attracts  international visitors as well as locals.  Rustic cabins in the uptown section and downtown RV camping where we are. Lots of old people and children.  Serious fishermen.  Not me.  I even sought the advise of the great fishing guru, Bill, to no avail.  I felt Sentimental hooking the worm.  I’d become a vegetarian again but their sentience disturbed me as much when I cut into a zucchini.  Not surprising, given my Irish roots, I loved potatoes here. I barbecued steaks and smokies and pork chops and had them with boiled potatoes and sour cream and mashed potatoes.  I made bacon sandwiches and bacon and eggs. I’ve enjoyed cooking.  I especially love barbecuing.  It’s been a wonderful vacation with that sense of cares dropping away.

I’ve worked some. With wifi and cellular service I’ve been able to connect to the Oscar Remote by computer and talk to patients on the phone. It was rainy some mornings and I was able to be of service and help.  I only thought about Covid and the catastrophes its brought to some people when I was working. Here its seems another world away.  I’ve seen the continuing corruption of Trudeau politics and Communist China and diabolical UN on Facebook but it’s at a distance. The background here is forest, lake and woodsmoke.  

This Adventurer camper has provided all the amenities with sewage hook up , running water connection, propane heat and hot water.  I’ve really enjoyed reading westerns and sci fi, rich allegories of good against bad.  Lots of tribal justice and revenge.  I then meditate on faith, hope and love.  Forgiveness is always a theme. Letting go. I’m older and still bothered by lustful and fearful thoughts and feelings. I struggle to let go of guilt and shame. Acceptance is a key idea today.  I have to remind myself I’ve not stolen millions from hard working Canadians to launder overseas with euphemistic projects, done any abortions or cannibalized my neighbor. On the balance sheet I’ve not been doing too badly especially this week when I’ve mostly been self critical for not getting up early and catching fish or getting up early and writing the great Canadian novel. I’ve been kind of lazy. I have slept in and napped. Walking Gilbert at his pace with his heart condition. I’ve bought a couple of pairs of sandals at Work Wear in 100 mile House.  I’ve bought a half dozen fishing lures that would have worked better if I had my line in the water more. I’ve kind of stagnated.  Lots of coffee and reading.  I’ve enjoyed my little corner here at the table stretching my legs out to rest my feet on the second drawer where I’ve put a cushion to create a self made couch. Laura has done cross words. Gilbert has slept.

I expect this is a kind of proto retirement. It’s a bit like a lot of my older and younger friends do.  I’ve thought about life and accomplishments. I put a decade into training at the highest levels and struggle like a number of colleagues and educated friends seeing others rewarded and given positions not on the basis of work and meritocracy but through cronyism and bullying and frank criminal behavior. I would have liked to loot a bigger tv. I obey the law and feel often like the Last Boy Scout.  When I’m with Laura I’m comfortable and feel a bit like my old man. I’ve followed in his footsteps, camping, hunting, fishing. He left me his love of the wilderness.

When I’m alone though in the city, I think  jazz and traveling to exotic lands.  I miss the theatre and television. I gave up a relatively hedonistic life of fun and pleasure for a life of calling and service.  That unforgettable moment praying in the University of Winnipeg chapel and my friend inviting me to come along and do the MCAT.  I thought Jesus was a healer but I wonder if I’d not have had a better life as a carpenter. I loved Herman Hesse’s Narcissus and Goldmund, discussing that very theme. 

A lot of the time I think of God and want to be closer, to know his will for me and to have the power to carry it out.  I look back on my life these days and it’s been full and exiting. I’ve been truly blessed. I celebrated 23 years of recovery this week and I’m in my late 60’s. For a guy whose been in plane crashes, sailed through hurricanes, been shot at , surrounded by Swat teams, stood up against all manner of social injustice , fought with really bad people and served the highest courts and spent days with Prime Ministers and Generals and Nobel Prize Winners and Olympic Athletes I’ve been truly blessed. God is good all of the time. But I’m never satisfied. I’m always feeling like I’m falling short of what I could be. I don’t want to be crucified like Jesus or his disciples. I’m a wuzz. Part of my reason for liking skirts and hair salons is because I’m old and feel vulnerable as an old man in todays culture and society.  I’m like an enlightened worm. Or a smart ant. I loved the metaphors of St. Francis. 

I don’t feel protected and don’t feel I can rest on my laurels.  I find myself think of Valhalla. I see the old men, the farmers and such, congregating in the MacDonald’s and A&W in the morning and think that may be me soon. I miss my brother Ron and his fish tanks. I miss my father and his fishing.  I’ve not the patience and confidence that they had. The men and women with children seem complete. The grandchildren give them meaning and purpose. I’m here with a dying dog and feeling that I’ve failed. It’s all in the self pity.  I’ve tried my best but been way laid by evil and corrupt bureaucrats and systems. Years of my life I’ve defended myself against lying psychopathic women and men.  I’ve been so disturbed that I’ve been caught in their low life games. I wanted to play the Glass Bead Game not Days in our Life.  There are times I’ve felt I reached for the stars but looking back so much has just been slogging through the mire of human existence. It’s all perspective and I’ve lived in fear and resentment and muddle.  There’s no merit in beating myself up. It’s tied to envy. I judge my insides by others outsides.

Now we’re leaving here. Packing up and moving to a lower elevation for the sake of Gilbert’s heart and lungs.  It’s an unknown destination.  We had booked this week but on a whim and due to the days July 1st came we took another week of vacation. I’ve not known this amount of unscheduled open time in years.  Again I think of this as a what retirement might well be like. Like a summer vacation in school days and each day an open slate. This truck and camper is like a land yacht and I actually enjoy it more than my sailboat, the land appealing more to me with better wifi and hook ups and the culture of Good Sam RV world. My parents loved the RV world and it’s a more appealing lot than the yachting world. I like the motorcycles and quads and all the dogs.  Life is good.  I am very grateful.  Now I must get stowed and on the road. 

Thank you God for another day in paradise. BC is God’s country and the views are just constant eye candy.  Thank you Jesus.  

Horse Lake, Saturday, Hails, Wind, Worms and Cold

Last night’s storm was shocking. I was fishing half way across the lake when the storm clouds appeared. At first I thought they were going to bypass the lake. The other fish boats weren’t moving but then the rolling thunder sounded and that concerned me. I began heading to shore with my slow electric motor watching as the other boats one after another kicked into gear and rev’d their gas outboards leaving me putting along with my little electric.  The thunder rolled again, the sky darkened and wind came up against me. I grabbed the oars and began pulling hard. I had visions of being fried from a lightning strike.

I later quipped that Olympic athletes would have been impressed by the last stretch of rowing that took me into the protected waters. I had quite the audience of other RVers filming my heroics. I pulled my pontoon boat ashore and ran with it rickshaw style up the road to my Camper.  Just as I arrived hail struck. I was pulverized by hail rocks.  I escaped inside .

Gilbert was hiding under the table. “He started up the stairs on his own when the wind came up, ‘ Laura said. She’d taken pictures of me rowing for my life before she went inside to comfort him. 

I took down the awning that was threatening to take us a loft.  With the racket of hail on the roof we sat together in the darkness comforting poor little blind cockapoo Gilbert trembling and having difficulty breathing with his congestive heart failure.  20 minutes later it passed. A rainbow appeared. The roads were flooded .Other RVers were out filming the white lawns with their iPhones and cameras. 

I took the worm I’d had on my fishing rod hook and released it into soft puddled soil.  Having survived being bait and then a hail storm hanging from a rod,  I hoped that it had enough life to burrow into the soil.  As a child I hurt when others hurt and here I am today having difficulty hooking worms to fish with. Sentimentalism masquerading as empathy. Maybe in old age my testosterone is failing.

With my nights disrupted on call to Gilbert I’m finding FB more irritating than normal.  The causes and the protests keep coming at us like pesky Jehovah Witnesses banging at your door when you’d rather stay in the  bath. I feel this silly desire to ‘balance’ the onslaught of bias. And daily seeing my government steal and abuse me taking my rights and possessions and taxing me more for their favoured groups and cronies.  I struggle to remain grateful while watching dictatorship steal rape and pillage while claiming to be acting in the best interest of the people who are more like prey as criminals get away with murder. 

We spent the evening in the camper drinking tea and reading. Gilbert slept soundly after his ordeal.  

It was so cold that I turned on the propane heater and loved my camper. Instant warmth.  I am definitely not the intrepid Stoic young man I once was. I’m becoming a thorough wuss. It was heaven to climb into bed with Laura who had gone earlier and warmed it up.  I had to walk Gilbert a couple of times in the night. He’s on diuretics and when I walk him at night he pees a river. 

Meanwhile a stalwart fisherman would be out but it’s raining and the lake is churned up with wind. I’m here inside with Laura and Gilbert having made eggs and toast and now about to enjoy my third cup of coffee, any excuse to stay put in the warmth, cozy and safe.  

Horse Lake, Interlake, BC

Mist is rising from the surface of the lake. It’s quiet.  Rain through the night has cleansed the air.  Breathing is rewarding. Deep breathes.  When I woke Gilbert was at the end of bed waiting to be lifted up to be reunited with his first love. “My fur baby!” She says taking him onto her magnificent chest. It’s been all night for the little guy. Now he is content. Mother and child reunion.

I’ve moved along to coffee. A saint would have lingered at the breathing and blessing of the vision of the lake. A poet would have compared the morning to a true love. The dog in the story would be frisky and young. He might bounced around the master or stood steadfast by his side. My old blind cockapoo is in the throes of love having his back scratched by his goddess.. He’s coughing like the old man he is. His congestive heart failure making his breathing sound like a lifetime of cheap cigars.  She massages his back. They are happy. That makes me happy. 

My neighbour is loading up his gear. I’m in the Cariboo Bonanza , a trailer park resort on the side of Horse Lake.I’ve a skookum Adventurer Camper on the back of my Ford F-350 Lariat.  My KTM 690 Motorcycle is mounted on the front of the truck. I know when I drive into a place of men I bring looks of approval. I may wear earrings and a skirt but my rig speaks competence.  The guys on either side of me are old like me and it’s apparent they’ve spent years of honing the skills of caravan.  

Out the window I can see these considered mixes of Camper, RV, Buses, Truck and Boats.  Keystones, Jayco’s, Topaz,  Rams, Fords, Chevy’s.  Canoes, aluminum Fishing boats, gas outboards, electric outboards, quads, electric bicycles, mountain bicycles. The trick is the right combination. The neighbour tows a sweet little trailer but his truck is the deal. On the back of his Ram 250, he has an aluminum rack that takes his aluminum fishing boat. He tows a sweet little trailer he and his dark haired partner share. He’s outfitted the truck bed with special gear box. The outboard just fits in place .  “Nice rig,” I’d say if I was outside .  That’s high complement here, among men.  

Even as I sit here sipping my glorious Ethiopian stove top espresso coffee with honey and cream, the children are beginning to spill out of the trailers. I think of Kevin and Anna with their 4 little ones.  A little tow haired boy across the way has  mounted his little bright orange  bicycle  and taken off unsteadily to circle this enclave where dogs and toddlers are safe. It’s early. I notice half the boats from the dock are absent.  Keen fishermen.  I’m thinking of another cup of coffee.  

I’ve interrupted Gilbert’s massage and managed to feed  his 4 different pills in slices of roast beef.  He does not like the capsule. Three times he spit it out before with I thought he’d swallowed it with third piece of roast beef wrap .  Laura found it spit out on the bed.  I wonder if he does that for more roast beef.  

I dreamed of a goddess last night. Aphrodite. Some wondrous heavenly mix of present and past lovers. She was fair and gentle with soft wisdom in her voice and we talked of marriage and love as if we spoke of reincarnations and ages. I was on that special island peninsula by the harbour I so often dream of, usually with my sailing boat with me.  This time we in the spacious apartments overlooking the bay admiring the  rich colours and lovely surrounding..  Mediterranean might describe it or Spanish. Canadian.  Something futuristic and ancient. I was wondering why love came and went and we were talking of hide and seek with God. She was a divine mother and might well have been Hera or Mother Mary. In that place all is possible. The place of dreams and mystery. I woke to find a real life goddess in bed beside me, the fragrance of my dream mixing with the lovely scent of her. Then the dog was pleading to be let up on the bed to be with her.  I had to pee. Then the coffee called. 

I’m enjoying looking out my window at the profusion of colours.  The great green forest with the humans swaths of reds, and orange and yellows, between it and me. If I turn I can look at the lake. The mist is gone and a slight breeze is rippling the water.

There are clouds in the sky but the sun is breaking through here and there.  My plan is to walk the dog.  Then I might get the motorcycle down off the rack.  I have a pontoon boat to assemble. I ordered it online, and it arrived, too heavy and bulky for my liking. Dave said when I shared that with him,” What did you expect. You got the top of the line with all the bells and whistles. You should have got the simplest one. It was half the price and would have done what you wanted.”  Dave’s got his life settled into an orderly trailer with well chosen Harley and good old truck. He lives at the cabin in the summer doing various projects taking pictures of birds and bears.  We all have motorcycles.  Or hot cars.  

George called to say his wife was doing well in the hospital.  ‘Couldn’t wait to get back to her girlfriends.’ He said. He’s pleased. “As long as she’s well cared for, I’m happy.” He’s sold the house and his daughter helped him with her mother.  Now George has moved further out in the valley and dreams of driving his new old muscle car down Route 66.  “I’m hoping the border opens so I can get on with my trip.’  Covid 19 threw a wrench in the works.

Each of us having worked a life time and served in our various roles, husbands, fathers, soldiers, businessman, doctors, accountants, welders, we are now at the time of summer vacation. The school year is done. We passed with flying colours, outperformed whatever standards the elite and dynastic posted. We survived at very least. Now we’re pawns in this bigger political picture between disease and economic threat and rumours of war.  Yet here we are hoping and having faith and working towards the last hoorah.

We are in a crowd heading towards Jerusalem looking at each other’s donkeys and knowing no ones waving palms.  It’s long past that phase.  The laughter and bitterness are all together in the soup of creation that fill out hearts  when we stop the business of existence to wonder.

It’s another day. Walking the dog is next. Here, Gilbert, come on.  He’s happy.  Blind, he hears his name and prepares to sniff and piss away another day.  

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.