Day 1 - West Coast Trail - June 28, 2013

I demurred.  Felicity persisted.  I refused.  Felicity enlisted Verity. Verity cajoled.  I capitulated. We three are off to do the West Coast Trail.


Day One - June 28th
       (Pachena Bay Trail Head)

No one dare tell me what to wear, how to pack a back pack, how to adjust it.  Why didn't I ask? Because I am a wilderness warrior and should know those things!

 My last real smile of the week. Victoria, four a.m., we depart luxury in pursuit of muck, pain and deprivation.

Our glorious moment of bravado at Pachena Bay Trailhead, one for all and all for one!

And then away we go for a wilderness triumph. It is lightly drizzling after a week of hard rain.

 
In her excitement Verity finds it hard to contain herself so bolts off and away like a shot!

Felicity lags behind to get that last picture of her supremely confident father marching into the forest for a good humbling. 

Some referred to that week before as a monsoon.  We saw the survivors as we set off.  Ending the long trek from the other end, the Jordan River end, a file of zombie hikers stumbled by us, glazed eyes, mechanically lifting one foot after the other, plodding through the last day of their journey from hell.  The trail was a disaster. I was unprepared, over confident, over dressed, ready for a fall.







When passing the marker for Km 2 I was tired, sweating, breathing heavily and, for all that effort, fully expecting to see Km 4.  It deflated me.  Would I survive this seventh level hell? But the girls were strong.


It would be hours later, all a rather blurry memory to me now, that the girls decided I needed to make changes if I was to survive.  I would need to share some of my pack, rebalance the rest, reduce my ridiculous absorbent cotton clothing and reset my ego.


Hours later again, nearing dark, we march into Michigan Creek.  I had survived but barely.  The girls were right to worry that the old goat might falter.

Pitch the tent, take off our sodden and sorry boots, and eat.  Then sweet deep sleep.

Ugh!  The Haul-out Blues



Nobody likes haul-out. Least me. Years have passed since Anya's  last haul-out in Mexico.  It is time! 

Sunset July 17th at Cowichan Bay

The tide is rising. Cowichan Bay Maritime Center (CBMC) prepares her ways for Anya's arrival.  Like the slow rise of the tide itself, CBMC's ways inch down the rails into salt water.




And then it is nighttime with Anya inching up the CBMC ways and me fretting about my frantic day tomorrow - servicing, bottom-painting and addressing that vexatious and damned profusely dripping packing glan.

I bed down for the evening to this view, somewhat like a cabin in the forest with a waxing moon lighting the night.





July 18 at six bells!

Groggy and grumpy I arise to this vista, my neighbors of last night, the rather charming Cowichan Bay stilt homes and waterside residences - ya gotta love this place!

Then to work in the morning sun.  I steel myself to a day of ass in the air, head in the bilge, a day of dark, nasty, dirty, stinky work.  Then, for a change of pace, there is the toxic bottom painting.  As usual, much of it ends up on me.





Throughout the day, Tony and Jimmy give friendly encouragement and advice.  By dinner I am reassembling things and preparing to put on that last coat of bottom  paint.  Egad! Horror of horrors, I drop a critical bolt into the bilge which precipitates a further half hour of ass-in-the air, head in the grime, bilge diving - the nautical equivalent to dumpster diving for dinner.  




As the sun goes down, she is done.  Ready to ease back into the waters of Cowichan Bay. 

With higher tide and darkness Jimmy arrives.  He sets the ways in motion, slowly sliding Anya past seaside neighbours, down the ways and back to sea.  She floats!  And we are off in the night to our mooring.




No one raves about their haul-out.  But my CBMCentre haul-out is my best such experience ever.  Every minute I was hands-on in a rich, friendly, maritime environment in ways not likely today - a place that smells of craftsmen, fishermen, long-ago adventurers, sailors and explorers.  Culturally and nautically, a magnificent experience.  Bravo CBMC!!

Silence of the Lambs - redux






June 30th, 2012.  Assuming that summer is at hand - even if skies are cloudy, temperatures slouchy and an ambience suggesting early spring -  Lesley inspires me to struggle on, to make the best of the situation, so we ship off to the annual Canada Day Lamb Roast on Saturna Island.

To lift spirits and help our passage we press-gang those formidable life-forces, Sue and Jeff Quinton. Crew onboard off we ship at noon loaded for food and fun - containers of food for Jeff's famous eggs benedict (twenty servings with minosas for Canada Day morning) and one ponderously large cardboard box filled with various alcoholic drinks.

Tacking up Cowichan Bay and nearing Cape Keppel we espy old friend, Abdi, now newly rigged, coming out of the rain and mist with her crew, Fred and Judy, heading off to Winter Cove. 


Anya clears Cape Keppel, then Portland Island and on beyond South Pender, rounding up into Plumper Sound.  Closing on our destination I spy a reef menacing the entrance to Winter Cove.  These rocks became famous late one summer's night when, it is said, a large sailing vessel, the Robertson II, took a hasty short cut, ultimately foundering and sinking on the reef.

 I was the man to handle Reef Robbie II so I took the helm, skirting the reef on my starboard when, eyes popping and pants pooping, I noticed a vicious reef awash close off on my port.  Eyes glued to the depth meter, timidly I groped through a shallow gap and safely into Winter Cove.



  There where we found other Cowichan Bay luminaries - on the left Bill and Sue (sounds like a law firm's name), then Abdi and Barca II all rafted up to the mother ship - Mermaid 1.  Anya rafted up to Barca II, yacht to Barry, a notable local parrothead. Then Anya's captain and crew head for Mermaid I where the party was under way.

Here we found Captain Currie and his
lovely accomplice Shelby hosting the feast and party. Pete rejoices in the background.

After feasting and drinking the sun falls into the horizon and everyone watches what might have been summer's first best sunset.

 
 
Barry's boat, now becomes the  party boat, gathers the late night hard-partiers for one last glimpse of the sun before diving back into the sauce.

And Canada Day collapses into July 2.

Great Wall

The Great Wall at Ba-Da-Ling


Earlier I commented on walls and their roles in securing the Forbidden City and the Temple of Heaven. Well there are walls and there are walls. Felicity and I are off to see a wall.


One morning Felicity and I jump the train in Beijing and head to the northern mountains. As the train grimped higher into the cordillera we started to see a structure snaking up a mountain side. People on the train became restless then excited. We leave the train at Ba-Da-Ling.



The sun is strong, the day is heating up and Felicity does not have a hat. So the first task is to go shopping. Felicity tries on quite a number of largely useless hats before she finds the right one. No! That is not it!


Then we head for the wall. Within minutes I have made my first friend. His hat has a solar powered cooling propeller so I figure he must be a cool dude. He thinks I am cool too.







We first mount the wall at the castellated watchtower lowest in the valley. Felicity breaks out into the sunshine in her new practical "Great Wall" hat.







Generally the wall follows mountain ridges so they occupy the high ground. Occasionally it runs into precipitous walls, natural impediments, so construction stops. Here Felicity and I have come to such an end. Above you can see a watchtower.






Looking the other way one sees the wall snaking down to the valley floor then, dimly, on.




At the beginning the wall is crowded with eager visitors but as we climbed and descended, then climbed again, crowds thinned.









Against this Great Wall backdrop one can now see Felicity's new Great Wall hat, serving her well that sweltering hot day.






At its steepest declines the wall was usually stepped but there were sections that were not. I took up trying to ski down some of these steep but smooth sections on my slick sandals. It was a risky venture.






At the back of our minds was always this astonishment: How the Great Wall could have constructed on such challenging terrain? Equally so, the incredible cost of that construction in resources and human life.



So while reveling in the spectacular beauty of the scenery we remained aware of its dark and bloody past.



One of the problems with going to the end of the Ba-Da-Ling wall is that you have to trek back. We forgot that on our outbound leg the sun had been climbing and the land warming. The hike back was mostly downhill so that made it bearable.


We were hot and tired as we got to valley bottom. Looking back across the valley we took one last peek at the great wall snaking across the northern frontier. At one time the wall extended 1500 miles.




Soon we were climbing aboard the return train on our way back to Beijing, all in air-conditioned comfort. Several days later I headed back to Vancouver.





Beijing - June 21st - a very special day for me, the Summer Solstice - so it was serendipitous for me to have my longest solstice ever.

It happened this way: I flew out of Beijing at 5 pm local time. Flying east (against the sun and clock) about three hours later I flew back into June 20th. A few hours later, upon hitting the International Date Line, I flew back into June 21st and the solstice, continuing on to Vancouver that June 21st. By my calculation I clocked into June 21st twice in 2011 and spend a total nearly 40 hours on June 21st. My longest day ever!

Temple of Heaven

Temple of Heaven





After bailing on Forbidden City, Felicity and I jump the sparklingly new, brashly efficient, spotlessly clean, fast-fast-fast Beijing subway and next thing you know we are walking across an overpass on our way to the Temple of Heaven.




Like Forbidden City, Temple of Heaven grounds are vast. Unlike Forbidden City they are more garden-like, peaceful and bucolic, dare I say heavenly.



One of the things I, as a moderately avid birder, miss is songbirds. There were few to be seen climbing Silver Mountain and almost none, other than magpies, in urban Beijing. Here were a few birds of which the most interesting and common was the azure-winged magpie.


So Felicity and I strolled blissfully, snapping a few pictures and contemplating heaven while approaching the temple.


As we made our way toward the temple named The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests (the largest of several such prayer halls) we passed people eagerly playing games, many with spectators crowded around intent on every move. I did not recognize any of the games.




Triple gabled and nearly 40 metres high, the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests draws one's eye pleasingly heavenward - the place beneficent rains descend from. Or at least that is one way to connect the dots.





Surrounding the temple are gardens with richly colored flowers. And high walls. Unsurprisingly, if named appropriately, Forbidden City was also enclosed by high walls. High walls deter the peasantry, imperial contenders and invaders. One can imagine during dynastic times the poverty and squalor outside the walls and the imposed peace within.



Leaving the Temple of Heaven we pass local musicians most skillfully playing wonderful, highly complex music. I quietly watched in fascination for quite some time.




Near sundown we depart the park to made our way back into the urban landscape. Once beyond the walls we saw, amongst many new automobiles, remnants of some fast disappearing ways.

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

There be dragons and monsters there. Everywhere. This dragon and three others like him emerge from a cornice.



One of the few allowances to modern Chinese history is this huge portrait of Chairman Mao right over the main, central entrance to the Forbidden City.


We are going in!





Entrance to the Forbidden City is a dream for Chinese everywhere so, with 1.4 billion aspirants, things get a little busy. Here a charming Chinese woman is excited for her adventure.





Security is on full display and sightings of the army are frequent. Forbidden City is all part of one huge - incredibly huge - governmental centre which includes, only for one example, Tienanmen Square.






Once inside one is beset with over-spilling imperial splendor and eye-numbing opulence. After a while it becomes sensory overload. But not quite as bad as parts of the Vatican.




Most buildings seem to have had special purposes so that one might have a throne room in one building for catching early evening land breezes and another one for the late morning song bird - I exaggerate of course but it takes a lot of excuses to build 9,999 rooms, the number claimed for the Forbidden City.




And the exteriors of these monumental buildings are as ornate as the interiors. All in good taste they maintain great order and coherence through repeating themes. Often in stacked repetitions.





In this huge expanses of laid brick - giant plazas - walkways, bridges, lagoons and ponds break what would otherwise be a brilliant monotony. Many statues line the pathways. Here are the imperial tortoise and crane.



Lions and dragons have their run of the place!




Errant monks as well. This guy was a favorite with his joyful bouncing step.








We soldier on for well over a mile. Clearly the overwhelming overall purpose of the Forbidden City was to indulge the emperors court while loudly displaying wealth and power. Not quite Xanadu, still one can appreciate Coleridge in these circumstances with the stately pleasure domes and all.




One area of the Forbidden City one got a very good sense about its purpose and design - this was the sequestered area for the Emperor's Harem. Dragons guarded the central area, no doubt warning would-be interlopers that they would suffer a grisly end if they messed with the emperor's playthings.




It had an almost elegant suburbanity about it. One could well understand this: for a young woman to get the imperial nod was a family fortune in the making. The girls lived in overwhelming luxury, at least while in favor.





Dazed by the numbers, Felicity and I picked our way back through the city and out the main entrance, putting Chairman Mao and the Forbidden City behind us.