As I await my hip surgery towards the end of October, and my mobility decreases, trips out and about are few. This Trekking Tale, like some others to follow, tells of enjoyable, intriguing or interesting experiences in the past. That part, at least, is fact!
A group of us were hiking in the area around Cathedral Lakes south of Keremeos. As we trudged upwards, we could see an animal outlined against the sky. All sorts of suggestions flew back and forth. That white-mantled, hoary marmot would certainly have had a swelled head if it knew what large critters were being suggested. Mind you, this one was big – and they can weigh as much as 13.5 kg (30 pounds). Also known as a whistler, this high-pitched sound warns the rest of its colony of intruders like us. They are often seen and heard in Wells Gray Park.
Hiking into Placid Lake near the foot of Green Mountain, with the trail winding beneath incredibly tall, straight, buxom trees, I announced: “I feel like Alice in Wonderland! I must have eaten the side of the mushroom that made me shrink.” The sky was way above those far-off treetops and at our feet a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar flowers. In spring, the chocolate-coloured blossoms of wild ginger play hide and seek beneath its broad leaves; at lake’s edge bog cranberry and yellow orchids, perfect golden slippers awaited us. By looking into the lake we viewed the surroundings above it. Wind riffled it from time to time, and fish jumping occasionally erased the double image only briefly. A wonderland indeed….
It was the perfect place to test the theory of some friends who loved and shared their enjoyment of the out of doors. “Tip your head sideways, Kay, and tell me what you see when you look along the shoreline of a calm, still lake.” Reflections of partially submerged logs form a Vee at water’s edge, rock shapes are mirrored, while plants and leaves add more variety and texture. “Perhaps the first inhabitants got their idea of a totem pole from this.”
Like wind erasing these pictures at Placid Lake, animals seem to magically disappear as well. With a visiting friend we were driving south on the Dunn Lake Road towards Chu Chua at dusk when we saw a lynx just ahead of us, standing on the side of the road. It went into the long grass and we stopped seconds later at that exact spot. No movement indicated it had gone upwards, so we knew it was still there – we could feel its presence. Three pairs of eyes, one pair of binoculars could not find that lynx. Was it chuckling as we searched in vain?
Even closer to home, I was driving on Clearwater River Road and spotted a fawn and doe ahead of me. I stopped and while Mama Deer remained stationary, her eyes fixed on the car, her spotted young’un did not. With legs held as stiff as sticks, it pranced around her. I knew the camera was beside me, but sometimes it’s neat just to watch. This was one of those times. Eventually Mama decided that machine and occupant were not to be trusted, and melted into the brush. Yes, melted. No sign, no twigs were moving as I inched forwards moments later. Even so, I knew that this display had been no illusion – but it was just for me!
