Camping

We've lived in British Columbia for almost exactly two years and haven't gone camping until this weekend. In fact, this was our first camping trip as a family.

On Friday afternoon the girls picked me up at my office and we drove about three hours east to Manning Provincial Park, a huge forest reserve. There we met up with our friends Elliot, Heidi and Nathan, with whom we'd planned the trip and were sharing the campsite reservation.

This was our home for the weekend.



The facilities were great. We had a picnic table, a fire pit (unfortunately, due to summer forest fires, a ban was on and we couldn't use it), a gravel patch to pitch our tents on, and a nearby washroom/shower facility with outside sinks and warm water for washing dishes. Daily and nightly events - family-friendly activities - were held in a small ampitheater.

The local fauna weren't shy about approaching us for food scraps. They must be pretty used to having us hairless monkeys around.


Heidi and Margo had planned our meals. That first evening's menu included salmon and pork kebabs, burgers, and garden fresh veggies with an Okanagan Merlot and some BC brews. There was a bit of light rain but it was easy to ignore, and we ate in camp chairs under a tarp.


Overnight it got quite cold. There was ice on the picnic table. Elliot checked his car's thermometer and it was reading 1° when we got up. Fortunately the skies were mostly clear so the sun helped warm us up, along with fresh-ground coffee. When we could stop shivering, we broke out the food and started cooking breakfast: eggs, bacon, toast, oatmeal, and melon.



After cleaning up, we headed out to a trail to walk around nearby Lightning Lake.




After that hike, we took time to relax in the chairs and do some reading. Then we were off for a shorter hike up one bank and down another of the Similkameen River.





Dinner was flank steak, corn on the cob, baked beans, a nice bottled blend of Pinot Noir, Merlot, and Lemberger, and BC beers.

In the morning it was not quite as cold - we heard 2° this time - but instead of having our planned pancakes before packing out, it was suggested and unanimously accepted that instead we pack up and get breakfast in Hope on the way back. The cloudy skies and potential for rain had the makings of a less than fun morning, so we had omelettes and pancakes in a much warmer room instead.

White Rock

Today we spent the afternoon in White Rock, a city on the waterfront about an hour south of Vancouver. I'd seen it several times before, but only from the windows of the Vancouver-Seattle train, and had enjoyed watching families and noting the inviting streetfront shops and cafés.

First we spent some time in the sun. Much of the waterfront is stony, but a nice lawn is above it, so we set up our towels there. Soon Sarah and I were exploring the water. It stays about knee deep for hundreds of meters out. The water was a bit chilly, but today was really hot, and a swim wouldn't have been inconceivable, but we didn't, and hardly anyone else did either.


Margo also took a turn in the water. Behind her on the right you can see America (buildings in Blaine). On her left, just out of frame, is the railway, and the street of shops further left.


We got a late lunch/early dinner at Moby Dick's, one of the many fish-and-chips eateries, but one I'd had recommended. It was probably the best we've had since living in England.


Then we carried on walking toward the pier.



From the pier, a spotter had directed two swimmers to one of the nearby crabs. (It was returned to the water.)


We walked back along the beach. Sarah did some sprinting.


And of course we had to finish our visit with a stop at one of the many ice cream/gelato shops.

Old Guy Music

There I was, hurling my yellow sports car down the runway, trying to evade the police cruisers and helicopter, which were both trying to shoot out my tires, and driving underneath a taxiing jet for protection, when a song came on the radio, and it strangely seemed to nicely soundtrack my adventure. It was quite intriguing.

Later that day (maybe a year ago), when I stopped playing Grand Theft Auto IV, I skimmed the game's booklet and found the song in the Fusion FM station playlist: The Edge by David McCallum. (The excellent Rockstar Games soundtracks have introduced me to lots of great music.) My first thought was that the tune must have been the theme to a late 60s kung fu movie, but further research told me that McCallum is better known as Robert Vaughn's partner in The Man from U.N.C.L.E. but had a minor career in music, and was produced by David Axelrod. The song's chord changes and driving melody interested me, and I ended up buying the song, my first iTunes purchase ever.

While in Portland last week I snagged a collection of David Axelrod tunes. Listening to their syrupy strings, closely mic'd drums, and strongly plucked bass lines, I realized: this is old guy music. Twenty years ago I'd have been turned dead off to this.

But it gets worse. Looking back in recent years, I've picked up quite a bit of stuff that would have made me gag as a lad. A greatest hits collection from Chicago. (To be fair, I only ripped the earlier ones.) The Girl from Ipanema. Barry White. The Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. Neil Diamond. Sure, I still bathe weekly in the ultramodern sounds of Radiohead and Massive Attack, and worship at the altars of Trevor Horn and every album Peter Saville designed a cover for. But I'm slowly coming around to classic tunes from those formerly frightening places.

Reunion Holiday

I recently returned from a week "south of the border" catching up with friends.

Margo and Sarah had gone down a week earlier. Since they had the car, I took Amtrak down to Olympia to visit. I stayed overnight with Chris and Sayre and their son Jasper, and got to catch up with a few more friends as well. It's been ten years since I've lived in Olympia; back then we were all activists, sitting on nonprofit boards, editing newsletters, and volunteering many hours in the interests of sustainability and bicycle advocacy. Now we have kids and mortgages and talked about how we don't volunteer nearly as much and drive cars a lot more than we used to.

It was neat to walk around town and catch up on new buildings and shops. The waterfront is mostly the same though.


At dinner in a newer Italian restaurant near the waterfront, someone at a nearby table offered to take this picture of us.


The next day I took the train down further to Portland to meet Margo and Sarah. Our hosts Tom and Lena had invited more friends to a barbecue. One of the newer activities at their school was building bows; the arrows are sticks capped with corks for safety. A favourite activity is when Tom dons a protective bucket and allows the kids (like Sarah below) to fire arrows at his walking target.


But most of the evening was just hanging out with good food and drink.


Later in the week we took a hike on trails in the nearby Powell Butte, a large park within the city limits of Southeast Portland. Here we're looking at mountains pointed out by markers in the ground.


The trails we picked took us through forest, then back to prairie.



During my week I got to tick off some of the usual Portland boxes ...

• A bunch of used CDs from Everyday Music
• A visit to Powell's Technical bookstore
  
• Breakfast at Bipartisan Café and a half pound of Stumptown beans
• Many Portland pints at the Horse Brass and elsewhere
  
• A matinee at the Academy Theater with a slice of sausage and mushroom from Flying Pie (and a pint)
• Coffee and a muffin from the Pazzoria bakery
  
• Magazines from Rich's Cigars
• The Sunday Oregonian
• Breakfast at Elmer's on the way out of town
• Plus Margo helped me pick some new dress shirts, and we had a fine Italian lunch at Pazzo
  

But mostly, it was everything a holiday should be: lots of time to relax. We napped most every day, did a lot of reading, lounging, visiting, and eating and drinking well.