On the Friday of B.C.’s newest long weekend, my husband John and I picked up Daniela, our Rotary Exchange student, and drove to Kamloops. En route, as we rounded a corner, a coyote was sauntering across the highway. “How many of those have you seen?” we asked.
“That is my first,” she replied from the back seat, “and I had a really good look at it”.
Once in Kamloops, we met the Rotary contact who would take Daniela to her bus, which would already be loaded with other exchange students, some from as far away as Yakima, Washington. All were on their way to Revelstoke for a weekend of cold, snowy fun. We, on the other hand, were on the first leg of a trip to Australia’s Gold Coast where summer would be in full swing. Before our journey could continue, however, we had to get the windshield mended: a flying rock had done bad things just as we entered the city. That fix was soon done, and off we went once more.
Icy roads that had already been part of the drive continued on-again, off-again as we drove cautiously over the Coquihalla Highway. Even worse were the vehicles crowding our lane for no apparent reason. Having left Clearwater with its -23°C and high snow banks, we were surprised to see so little at the summit with the car’s thermometer reading -15°. As we descended, snow soon disappeared from sight and the temperature rose quickly under sunny blue skies. Build-ups of ice were fascinating: cascades of it glistened on rocky slopes from way above us down to the road cut. Lofty waterfalls, frozen in a moment of time, clung to steep-sided gullies. Creeks flowed beneath pretty curlicues of ice. Smooth, satiny ice shone on parts of the Coquihalla and Fraser Rivers when we reached flatter land – skating not recommended despite its inviting appearance.
Because we visit an elderly friend in Coquitlam, Highway 7 was our route of choice, as usual. Even mountain tops had only negligible sprinkles of snow, making us hope for rain in the Fraser Valley during our absence (and we now know they got lots of it!). On Nicomen Slough, pure white swans, gracefully curving necks towering over flocks of geese and ducks, paddled blithely around, keeping a small space of water open. Larger flocks pecked a living from the fields nearby. As we drove through this agricultural wonderland, we gave thanks to the hard-working, resolute farmers who produce our food and milk. We liked seeing green and greener, as well as watching the minus sign disappear from the thermometer.
The traffic had increased exponentially as we drove through Mission and further west, drivers speeding from red light to red light. Let me tell you, your chances of seeing a green light that doesn’t suddenly change as you come within range are not even close to 50 per cent. Meantime, a rock had lodged into a wheel or brake lining, producing unpleasant screeches each time we slowed down; fortunately, constant rubbing from all those stops gradually wore it away.
Arriving safely at one’s destination is always a happy event. When friends await you, it’s even better and, remember, we were on our way to a warm climate with golden beaches and crashing waves, not to mention a lovely resort where a swimming pool invited me to do laps every day for three weeks. The challenges of snow and icy roads quickly faded from our minds – at least until our return almost a month later.
