Pemberton November Hunting Weekend

If I didn’t say we were hunting, this would have been a truly idyllic fun weekend.  Hunting weekends are only the ‘best’ when you shoot some game. I didn’t see or shoot anything alive. I did have a great time shooting a perfect little pattern on a hundred yard target with the Winchester 300 Short win mag.  It makes a big boom even with my ear protection on.

Laura and I left Friday afternoon from Vancouver driving my F350 white Ford pick up with the crew cab full of gear. I really didn’t need the chain saw.    Gilbert, the intrepid blind cockapoo sat on the front seat  between Laura and me.  We listened to an audio tape on the way  up the glorious Sea to Sky Highway.  Sunshine and great views of Howe Sound.  Blue sky and wonderful cloud formations.  

 In Britannia  we stopped at Mountain Woman’s fish and chips. I love her fish and chips.  A rainbow greeted us there pointing us north. Again we said we’d have to take the Britannia mine tour. Everyone says how they love it.  One of these years.

On ward and upward,  we passed  Whistler and Blackomb before arriving a half hour or so later in Pemberton where the really cool kids go.  

I’d made reservations at the incredible Pemberton Valley Lodge. It was as terrific as it’s always been. I’ve been coming up for decades.  Gilbert first came here when he was only a few months old more than 8 years ago.  More than a decade back Laura and I came through a couple of times on the Harley Roadster .   Vancouver to Pemeber on the  Sea To Sky Highway then Duffy Lake Road to Lillooet then down the  Coquahalla back to Vancouver is one of the greatest circle routes passing through some of best views and terrains BC has to offer.  When my parents first came out to visit me in the 80’s thats’ the 3 day trip I took them on.  Later I loved it best on motorcycle.    

At the Pemberton Valley Lodge I have always loved the underground parking for motorcycles, cars and trucks. They even have bikes for guests.  The rooms are spacious but cozy, the decor,  elegant. The service is the finest. I love the hot tub and pool and the snow capped mountain views.   with some They even showcase great local art. 

 My favourites 5 star elegant country places near Vancouver are Chateau Whistler, the Harrison Hotspring and Spa, , the Princeton Castle and Pemberton Valley Lodge.  “I love it here, “ Laura exclaimed as she settled down on the comfy couch. 

I headed out to the woods for the night hunt finding a perfect moosey area up the Duffy Lake Road in hunting zone 3 where spike fork were legal.  In zone 2 where Pemberton is moose are off the books but instead of the 4 point buck requirement of zone 3, any buck is fair game.  That evening I was hoping for a moose and enjoyed an hour and half hike and stalk, Tai Chiing along the back wood trails ,remembering times I’d thus creeped up on elk and deer getting within a hands reach, startling them something fierce when I said “boo”. But no moose, no bear, and no 4 point buck was out this evening..  But a  truly serene and beautiful evening in the forest it was. .  The air was sweet and after a hectic work week I found a touch of peace and even a moment of joy.  

On the way home, I picked up some great Back Country Pizza, a must when in Pemberton. I also stopped at the fabulous Pemberton Valley Supermarket. By the available selection you can tell Pemberton is an upscale tourist destination. They had my favourite lime drinks and Laura’s favourite herb triscuits. They even had Hagen Daz Ice Cream.

Laura doesn’t mind when I don’t return with a dead animal just so long as I bring her something to eat. So she was happy.  Gilbert got meat bit treats off the pizza.  Laura and I watched Hawaii 5 0 and NCIS  on the big screen cable tv.     I swallowed several Robaxisal tablets.  Binge exercise after a week of desk life upsets my body causing it to groan.

I woke to the alarm in the dark.  I dressed warm  for hunting.  Hauling rifles and ammo back to the truck I enjoyed looking up through the layer of clouds. In a break I saw a few remaining stars. . Fog was low as well.  All day it would drizzle.  I stopped at the MacDonalds in the gas station.  It was still dark as I drove up the valley munching on egg mcsausage and hash browns.  I had a thermos full of the best MacDonalds coffee.  I stopped to take a couple of pictures of the spectacular fog.  Then it was pot hole road slow driving.  Still dark.  I headed up to Gold River. 

In the snow and sleet and ice only a couple of years ago without traction I’d been unable to ascend  I’d stopped and tried to get the winch out only to have the cable break, I was with Tom and the truck was without the emergency brake for a moment,  beginning to slide back down the mountain angling  towards the shear cliff. Without thinking, I ran after it, pulled the door open and jumped in the cab, slamming on the emergency brake. It held.  Then with Tom’s help I backed it down the hill with one half the tires in the mountain side ditch and the other on the icy road.  Scarey stuff. This day it was  absolutely innocuous by comparison.

At the top I passed where Laura and I another year had begun to slide off this road because of ice, choosing to turn around rather than going through. .  Not a place to go off the road. I’ve shot deer up here though. I’ve seen bear.   I remembered lying in a sleeping bag with a beautiful young nurse waiting for dawn light to come up to hunt.    I shot blue grouse up here too.  Another time I tracked deer  in the snow along the ridge all day climbing and hiking.  Now I’m older and  stay close to the truck.   I’ve done my years of packing out game on back boards.

The area around Gold Bridge really is moosey. Great swamps and old forest.  This day, despite my waiting,  no moose appeared. .  No grouse either. I did get some pictures of Gold Bridges and the environs, I liked . The water is unforgettably blue there. 

With the morning gone and me hardly able to walk because of the binge of exercise Friday night I was glad to get back to town.  I dropped off my guns and picked up Laura and Gilbert. They’d been taking walks around the Lodge. Theres’ a great trail along the river that goes for miles and a perfect dog place with poop bag dispenser.  In the room they had a water bowl and food bowl for Gilbert along with treats and a great pillow bed he loved. 

I needed new jeans. I’d ripped the crotch in my old ones doing the splits  jumping across a stream. I feel fat. It’s unfair. I am fat.  

Pemberton General Store is one of those really really really incredible places. It has everything in no particular order.  I’ve bought many things there over the years as it caters to all the Pemberton crowd.  Great men’s work wear. Lots of Stan field long Johns. Leather goods. Pemberton Valley is a famous farming valley reknowned for the tasty Pemberton potatoes.  It’s also very equestrian with rodeo and western horse riding throughout. So the clothing is the real thing.  

I used to come up to Pemberton for riding in Mount Currie.  I ’d done Man from Snowy River down a mountainside following my friend, Wayne Andrews, the former world champion  aboriginal  rodeo rider,  A truly wise and great man.  

The Pemberton General Store caters to the riding community, the farming community, the work community, the cyclists, the motorcyclists, the hikers and climbers and passing through tourists.  The  very best of cowboy boots and ladies boots.  Lots of Millworks brand.  Also ‘tourist’ stuff, toys, and trinkets and kids stuff and kind of a western store in the mixed up Asian market ordering system.  

I found the perfect wool pants with a tear proof crotch and some waist room.  I’ve been looking for slip on boots for riding  my KTM 690 enduro and sure enough I found just right Australian boots . Laura loved the ladies boots,  a short version of the tall lace up boots I bought her in Milan. “Now I’ve bought you boots in Milan , New York and Pemberton.”  I said. Laura loves her boots and shoes.

Back at the lodge I loved the hot tub and more Robaxisal.  Somehow I dragged my weariness out to the truck with my rifle.  I drove back up the valley to a logging road that thankfully became too iffy with washouts for my beloved truck.  I turned around and headed for the Pemberton Valley Supermarket.  “I shot a barbecued chicken in the supermarket but have to pay for the rotisserie” I told Laura. I had potato and bean salad and fresh buns.  A feast. Lime drinks and Hagen daz ice cream bars.  Too decadent.  Death in Paradise on TV. . A late night hot tub and a great night early to bed.  Silly day light savings was about to begin.  I’d decided against a morning hunt. Gilbert woke at the same time.  So had a wake up hot tub experience and swam a dozen laps before Keurig coffee.  

We thanked the perfect staff.  “They’re so European, “ Laura said, “Not a bit intrusive,  always friendly and  always ready to be helpful.”  We both remarked on how quiet our rooms were, the sound proofing such we never heard anyone in halls though we’d meets guest coming and going in the lobby.  

The Sea to Sky Highway was particularly beautiful coming home.   Howe Sound was perfectly flat, more like a skating rink than the ocean. . I’d sailed it in all conditions and loved motor sailing  under auto pilot on days like this. “I remember when I was learning heaving too and would come out in Howe Sound when it was blowing 40 and 50 knots to test this weird sail arrangement ,” I reminisced with Laura.  I found  that true enough I held my own in the high winds though when I was actually faced with hurricane winds I chose bare poles. When I could I ran ahead of the hurricane so I could hide up the Columbia River another time. 

Lots of good memories along the coast. Black diamond skiing Whistler.  Wreck Scuba Diving Porteau Cove  All the motorcycle trips up to Squamish and back. 

It was only early afternoon when we arrived  home  in Vancouver.  Laura loaded up her Smart Car and headed back to the West End.  I left Gilbert to snooze after his adventure and hopped on the KTM for a spin around New Westminster.  Sunny days are to be cherished now before the rainy season descends completely .

A perfect weekend.  Great company.  Great lodge. Swimming. Hot tub. Hiking and 4x 4 ing. Great photography opportunities.  I loved target practicing. Then hiking and meditating in the woods.  Great tv. and great pizza. Great shopping.  A perfect weekend.  

Who was hunting? Not me.

Pemberton Hunting, Roughing It and Staying Alive

Pemberton Valley Lodge is one of Laura and my favourite getaway locations. We’ve come up here other years for hunting as well as in the summer. They have elegant rooms with kitchenettes, rural views, great walk along the river out back, underground parking, and 2 minutes drive to the town of Pemberton. Gilbert loves the dog friendly staff. They also have outdoor swimming pool and hot tub with indoor spa and steam room.
So it’s really roughing it as a hunting camp.  I began coming up to Pemberton to hunt in the late 80’s.  Mostly it was great for grouse hunting. I shot a deer or two as well.  But the real draw was Meager Creek Hotspring. After a morning of climbing mountains I’d find myself in the afternoon languishing in the scenic hot springs, thinking, now this is really ‘hunting’ and ‘roughing it"  It was nudist back then so everyone was friendly and young.
A couple of winter hunts I stayed at Pemberton Hotel whose rooms seemed mostly cubbyholes where drunks would sleep it off after a night in the rowdy bar. That’s changed too. The Pemberton Hotel has had a huge face lift as the whole town has.  Pemberton is now tourist central catering mostly to the cyclists,hikers,  climbers, photographers,  back country skier sand horsey set.
When I came up I would mostly tent by the river.  There’s great fishing around Pemberton. The young guys who run the  outdoor store, Spud Valley Sporting Goods Ltd.,in town also do fishing guiding.  I remember catching a Mountain White Fish that I pan fried by the river having one of those unforgettable outdoor meals.
My last wife and I would come up in the Vanagon.  She was terrific in those days.  I’d come back from slogging about in the woods, climbing the mountains, up before dawn and she’d have bacon and eggs and coffee ready at noon.  Then we’d go off to the hot springs together.  She was a whole lot of fun. My dog Shinto was the great companion back then believing that the Vanagon was his solely and letting us share it.  I had installed a great propane heater that made it doubly cozy.
Back in those days I’d made friends with the Wayne Andrews, the World Champion Indian Rodeo rider who lived in Mount Currie. We’d go riding. He had riding tours back then.  Later we’d ride together with him as a guide for mountain riding. My ex wife came along on what she called our ‘man from snowy river’ riding weekends. She was a good rider and very styllish. I just seemed to learn to stay on a horse when I began riding on my grandfather’s ranch at 6. I can’t say stylle is my long suit but I’d done a lot of 2 legged horse riding and even some broncho bucking but stayed on mostly.  Back then we just followed Wayne galloping down mountainsides and riding across moonlit meadows.  Now riding is what Pemberton is known for.  Everywhere there are stables and beautiful horses dotting the backcountry.
About 10 years ago I found the Pemberton Valley Lodge, long after the Vanagon and beautiful girl had gone. The dog had died and a cold night tenting in sleet and snow made hunting seem incompatible with traumatic arthritis and age.  Pemberton Lodge brought a whole new attraction to the idea of a weekend of roughing it hunting.
Laura and I came up here on motorcycle too.  Even Gilbert and I came here on motorcycle. The famed Duffy Lake motorcycle route starts at the Pemberton and goes up to Lillouett.  Great winding trail made better by the upgrade on the Duffy Lake road a couple of years back.  It travels through some of the most picturesque country in the whole world.
Well, this weekend we arrived up on Friday night early enough to enjoy the meat lover pizza we got from the hometown pizza place a couple of blocks down the road.
Gilbert hurt his back jumping out of the truck a couple of weeks ago. He’s fully mobile after being unable to move his flanks for a day, thanks to the good care of Oak Street Animal Hospital. But, as they would say in hockey, his ‘injury has benched him for the season’.  He’s the main grouse dog, finding and retrieving them after we shoot them.  He’d stay with Laura and suffer her loving care in the Lodge while Tom and I would go out into the cold.
6 am the alarm went off. Whose stupid idea was it to go hunting?  7 am we had our gear loaded  and were driving down the road with Egg McMuffins and Hash browns and coffee from the Macdonalds in the gas station near the lodge. That made the whole cold unpleasant experience tolerable.  Nothing beats Egg McMuffin on a cold morning.  We could see our breath. We’d had to scrape frost off the windows. I had long johns, quilted overalls, parka and outer layer of camouflage gear, with felt beret, scarf and thick work gloves on. There was snow deep on the ground and the road was icy. This hunting trip was a stupid idea.  The MacDonald’s Coffee marginally improved things.
Gilbert had got me up at 3 in the morning to take him out for a pee and poop.  That happens to him in hotels sometimes.  I stumbled around looking for shoes and clothes and leash and had waited out back of the hotel till he found the perfect spot to gift with his offerings.  I’d had trouble getting back to sleep.  Thank God for coffee. It was a while still before I got my head around the idea that hunting was a good way to spend a weekend. It was good that Tom was driving.
Without chains for the truck, I’d made the executive decision that Tom and I would park the truck and unload the ATV to drive with up the mountain logging roads. We’d stopped at one where a couple of young guys were setting up their snowmobiles. A lot of folk out enjoying the trails this day.
Further on we found an isolated place I had known about from previous trips ,unloaded and began riding up the mountain.  Pristine setting.  Beautiful mountain views. Pine trees.  Spruce.  Not a deer or bear in sight.  As Tom driving with me as passenger on back we got to the steep part and I got off.  I didn’t like the idea of being flipped over backwards having already done that myself on an ATV and found it wasn’t fun.  I suggested he drive on and I’d walk.  I waved him on.
I don’t know how I survived growing up in Winnipeg.  I began to have PTSD flashbacks stumbling and sliding around in that snow.  I should have brought snow shoes. The snow came up above the ankle and was half way to the knee in places. I trudged.  I had the 300 win Mag Winchester Model 7 over my shoulder, my Bushnell Binoculars and just trudged.  The trail just kept going up. There were a lot of big deer tracks but I didn’t see a single moving thing. I had my hat and scarf off and all my clothes open and despite trying to move slowly was sweating something fierce.  A couple of hours into this I collapsed on a rock.  We had our nifty matching yellow motorola waterproof radios but I couldn’t reach Tom.  Where’s a taxi when I needed one.  No wonder people stay in New York.  I called but the line of sight communications on these radios is affected by mountains and trees.  So I waited hoping for a deer to come along.  It didn’t and I hiked higher in the mountain my legs long dead and useless by this time Tom came chugging down the mountain again raving about the glory of the mountains and the wonder of creation. I could hardly get my leg up over the machine.  All he’d seen is day old bear poop.
Back at the truck we loaded up the gear.  We drove back down to the Macdonalds loaded up on burgers for lunch and joined Laura and an ecstatic Gilbert.  After lunch I collapsed on the bed.
Tom woke me a couple of hours later with the stupid idea of going out for the evening hunt. Apparently I’d suggested it.  So we geared up again. We drove out through Pemberton up the valley where I saw so much development.  Where there had been one dude ranch there were several. More wilderness lodges too. The great potato farm was still there. Pemberton produces the best potatoes in the world.
It was already growing dark when we got to the split on the Goldbridge road and I stupidly suggested we head up hill to Goldbridge rather than continuing along the river to Meagher Creek.
With the sun going down the road had iced and damn but the truck just stopped short, wheels spinning before the first level and turn.  Tom’s a great driver so despite my natural tendency to blame I had to confess that I’d have encountered the same problem if I was in the driver seat.  But I have a monster winch on the front of the truck so after chalking the tires with big stones to prevent the truck rolling back I began  smugly playing out the winch cable.
Oh no! No. No. No. The winch cable broke off at the connection onto the winch.  No more winch. Shit. A minor problem had now become a major problem. We were stuck in the middle of the road and on one side was a steep cliff drop off going down hundreds and hundreds of feet while on the other side was a mountain.  When Tom was trying to tie the cable onto the winch cylinder horror of horrors.
Despite being in park and braked  the truck began to slide back down over the heavy stones I’d chalked it with. Tom screamed holding the cable in front of the truck trying to anchor it but instead began snow skiing down the mountain in front of the rapidly accelerating truck. I’d been out pulling the winch to it’s full length when Tom called out.
I am not an athelete any more. I’m older and fat and given to the sedentary life of a desk jockey. Besides I’d used up whatever strength and leg muscles I had that morning.  My body had not recovered.
Despite all this, seeing my Ford F350 Harley Davidson Truck carrying  my Yamaha Kodiac ATV in its cargo bed accelerating downhill with Tom holding onto the cable and skiing before it in a futile attempt to slow it, I was a galvanized as they say in fiction.  Without a rational thought I ran like the wind and jumped into the open door of the truck and slammed my foot on the brake. This indeed caused the truck to slow with the back wheels just short of the edge of the great ravine.
I sat shaking as I realized I’d almost lost the truck and ATV but also put myself in a position where I could now go over the cliff along with it.  This seemed rather stupid. I wondered if the air bags would help.   Tom was truly surprised that I was alive and we’d stopped the runaway truck.
At that time a couple of young guys in a jeep came along.  We tied a rope to their jeep and to my truck and tried towing.  The rope broke immediately but the effort had helped straighten the truck out so it wasn’t pointing directly over the cliff. They headed on leaving us to our devices.
I told Tom that it was clear that we couldn’t go forward so I planned to back down the mountain.  The difficulty with this is that it’s hard to tell exactly where the wheels are turned. Normally I’d climb out of the truck and line matters up and then get a go at it.  I wasn’t leaving the brake under any conditions though so Tom thankfully was there to guide me backwards and we actually got the truck over to the mountain side. Only trouble then was we got a bit in the ditch and I was horrified at the thought of the truck rolling over on Tom .  He came to his senses at that point realizing that was a possibility and took up guidance duties from the other side. He was amazingly right that we could ride along on a slant in the ditch and soon enough we got to a flat area where with his direction I backed the truck up to the feared cliff side and had enough room to turn us around.
I drove back to Pemberton.  Tom was disappointed that we hadn’t seen any game but I told him that ‘come to think of it over the years a whole lot of hunting had been about arriving back alive”.  I was reminded of the times I’d been up on logging roads when the whole roads had given out,  the countless mechanical failures of equipment or the blizzards and such that had added to the hunting adventures.  I’d even lost my truck one night and after spending a night out in the cold been happy to find the truck in the day light.
We stopped at the great little downtown Pemberton food store and delli. I shot us all some barbecued chicken and whipped up some great delli vegetables and baked us some fresh bread and made a container of Hagen Daz ice cream.  It was a feast we had later with Gilbert very impressed with what great hunters we were.  Laura loved the caesar salad I’d found with folliaging especially as it came with it’s own salad dressing.
Now it’s morning. I decided I’d had enough hunting and without the tire chains and the winch now broken and still shaken by last nights adventure , decided against the ‘morning hunt’.  We’re going to drive back to Vancouver this afternoon and thankfully alive with equipment relatively in tact we’ll consider it a very successful hunt.  It was also good roughing it at the  emberton Lodge.  Gilbert let me sleep in but woke Laura to take him out to pee first thing in the morning then jumped in bed with Tom to lick wash his face for him.

   

Pemberton Valley

Pemberton Valley Lodge remains a luxury dog friendly hotel with swimming pool and hot tub. I've been coming here since it opened. Pemberton was the first place I hunted deer in BC back in 1986-87.  I tented a lot in early years along the Hurley River. I stayed in the very basic Pemberton Hotel a few times in colder months but once the lodge opened I've become an autumn regular.  It's Gilbert's third year too.
We drove up in the dark and headed right out to the backwood. Lots of does on the road but the only buck was running away from me on the road and when I stopped the truck he sped off into the woods.  It's been raining heavy so no grouse out on the roads. I've not been hiking much which is rather lazy of me.  Even now I'm thinking of skipping the evening hunt, getting to bed early so I'll be able to get up early again for the morning hunt. I always love morning hunts because I have all day to deal with any game I shoot.  I don't like field dressing deer in the dark with a flashlight and that's what it's ended up with.  I also don't like shooting bear at night nearly as much as the morning.
There's a hot tub and pool here and great television in this room.  Order in Chinese.  Gilbert's had some time running around in the woods.  It's going to be hard to get up after I go for the hot tub. I've got some paper work along too so can easily justify skipping the night hunt.  That's the only downsize about the Pemberton Valley Lodge. Once I get here I don't want to leave.
I stopped at the Pemberton General Store and bought another cowboy shirt.  I love that store.  Every type of clothing for outdoors and all great brands.  I even got birkenstock alpros, the little rain clogs.  I've been happy with my hiking boots with orthotics but only had my leather canoe shoes along to change into. With this rain and the size of puddles these will work a whole lot better and pass as shoes.  Up by Gold Bridge there was snow in the woods and at the Pemberton General Store they already had a great selection of flannel shirts.
Of course I had to stop in at the Spud Valley Sporting Goods Ltd (www.spudvalley.com).  Today I just picked up a couple of the new combination style trigger locks. I've lost the keys to my other trigger locks so like these. Even while I was there another hunter came in looking for a tool to get his trigger lock off, having forgotten his key.  The combination locks are the trick so long as you don't forget the combination.  One time I was there, Brad's wife was near due and now they've another child.  Brad's started doing more fishing guiding under the business name "Pemberton Fishfinder".  (www.pembertonfishfinder.com).  Can't think of a better guy to go fishing with or have as a guide.  He told me they're doing ice fishing in December so I might do that. Haven't ice fished since I did it with my brother and father in Manitoba.  I've not been downhill skiing this last decade but still cross country ski so am thinking Pemberton would be the place to come as a break in winter. I've been horse back riding at Mount Curie but see there's a whole lot more horseback riding in the valley with more dude ranches and tourist attractions. The town is really catering to the back woods tourists with lots of backwoods biking on the trails.
Well I hope I get a deer in the morning and the sun comes out so Gilbert gets some grouse. With the medical conference last week it made for a long week, even though attending courses all day was different from my regular work. I had to work in the evenings and I'm now preparing this presentation so more scientific papers to read and writing to follow. I'll have to brush up on Power Point.
I've been listening to Exit Ghost, the truly brilliant audio novel by Phillip Roth.  As a New York city piece of intellectualism and extraordinary character and city descriptions its been as captivating auditorily as the Pemberton Valley has been visually.  Quite the juxtaposition of extremely different landscapes.  Coupled with that have been all these does showing up and driving poor Gilbert mad as I don't let him out to chase them and all he can do is stare.
Gilbert is a great companion even if he can't discuss the genius of Phillip Roth with me.