Leaving Gilford Island

We hiked through the forest, and after reading articles on bear and cougar attacks posted back at the Lodge, and after hearing stories told by Billy and by Bruce, we were on high alert.  Brad had bear spray on his belt, and I had a bear bell. Plus we would shout every now and then to let any nearby critters know we were on the trail.
The night before we'd had dinner at Bruce and Josee's house, and they'd shown us short video clips from the motion activated trail cameras - one clip showed two cougars on the trail and another was of a bear that just rose up out of the salal and then disappeared.
Our destination was a lake a few kilometers inland, where Bruce had a canoe he said we were welcome to use.

Fortunately we didn't see any wildlife, other than birds, and eventually came out of the forest and saw the lake.  The canoe was a ways away, so Brad navigated the marshy and boggy edge, found the canoe and paddled back to get me. Away we went up the lake, and lo and behold the sun came out!

Sadly our time on Gilford Island was soon over, and the next morning it was time to load our stuff back onto the water taxi. We'd had a great visit with Billy Proctor, a good day of kayaking, a hike, a paddle on the lake, time to read in the lodge, conversations with the other guests, and games of Scrabble and Bogle.  We had a tiny glimpse into a different way of life, where grocery shopping meant a two hour boat ride to the store and two hours back. Where you knew all of your neighbours and relied on them for help.  Propane lights and generators are not things we use in the city...

Tying the kayaks onto the boat

Visiting Billy Proctor

We set off in kayaks, and after a short paddle, entered Echo Bay and landed on a shell beach at the far end.  Since the tide was coming in, we carried the kayaks way up, and tied them to a cedar tree.
After a bit of searching we found the trail to Proctor Cove and set off.
Emerging from the woods into a clearing we saw Billy's homestead, the boat shed, and his fishing boat down at his dock.

Our first view of Proctor Cove 

The dog announced our arrival, and Billy met us at his museum, where one of the first things he said was "I've collected a lot of junk." Actually it's the result of a lifetime of beachcombing, and he has it well organized; it provides a look into the old way of life up the coast.  We saw bottles, fish hooks and lures, arrowheads, tools and saws and much more.  He showed us two old clothes irons - one of them opened so you could put hot coals in it, and another that belonged to his Mother, and used gas.

Billy in front of his museum

 We saw quite a few items mentioned in his books - the first book, Heart of the Raincoast, was written with Alexandra Morton, and the two others: Full Moon Flood Tide and Rip Tides and Back Eddies, were written with Yvonne Maximchuk, who still lives in the next bay over.

Brad in the door of the logger's shack that Billy built from one log

Billy patiently answered our questions, and told us a story of a close encounter with a cougar when he was digging clams on a nearby beach - his dog started whimpering, and when Billy looked up, there was a cougar 10 feet away!  He stood up and waved his clam fork - the cougar went after his dog and he was able to make enough noise banging his clam shovel on the side of his speedboat to scare the cougar away.  Phew!
It was a great visit, and soon it was time for us to be on our way, back through the woods to Echo Bay and the kayaks.

The sun came out while we explored Shoal Harbour

Gilford Island arrival

After two hours on the water taxi, passing only the occasional fishing boat and many islands, we arrived at the Paddler's Inn on Gilford Island.

Our first view of the Floathouse Lodge

The Floathouse Lodge started as a small one storey church in Echo Bay, and when the population of that settlement dwindled so much that the building wasn't being used anymore, Bruce arranged to have it moved from land onto a float, and towed around the corner to his small bay.  He added a second storey for four bedrooms, accessible by outside stairs.
Inside there were two other small bedrooms, a bathroom, and an open area with a full kitchen, dining table and sitting area.
After claiming one of the upstairs bedrooms and stowing our food in the kitchen, we walked along a trail to the end of the point, to see the view:

Brad admires the view

On the way back we saw a Kingfisher

This is the view of the lodge from the back; the whole float is anchored to shore with "boomsticks" which are logs with chains attached, bolted to the rocks on the shoreline so nothing floats away in a storm.

Crossing Johnstone Strait

Having booked four nights in the Floathouse Lodge at the Paddler's Inn on Gilford Island, we waited on the dock to be picked up by their water taxi, not knowing if we would be the only ones, or if others had booked the "special."  We discovered we were a group of seven, and after loading all of our gear, food, and sleeping bags, we watched in amazement as Bruce, our captain, loaded and tied on five kayaks.

The water taxi at the dock before the kayaks were loaded 

Leaving tiny Telegraph Cove in the sunshine

It was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for our crossing, and soon we went by a group of Steller sea lions sunning themselves on some rocks.

A bit further out we saw an Orca fin in the distance, then more, and our boat slowed... we went from side to side on the boat, cameras clicking, cellphones on video, shouts when the whales resurfaced, and much excitement when three surfaced beside the boat...

They must have gone right under the boat...

It's so hard to get a good photo of whales, as you never know exactly where they're going to resurface!

Click to enlarge the photo and see all three Orca whales

Telegraph Cove

In September we decided to go north to the Broughton Archipelago, a group of islands between Vancouver Island and the mainland, to visit an oldtimer who had lived in the area all his life.  Our interest had been piqued by his latest book, and since he was now 81, we thought there was no time like the present to get ourselves up there.  But not having a boat or floatplane, how would we get there, and where would we stay? After some research, a solution presented itself.
Our jumping off place was Telegraph Cove, a tiny place named in 1912 when the telegraph line was brought in, and a lineman's shack built.  The fishing and forestry industries supported people for years, and many of the original buildings remain, though now the whole cove is a resort and tourist destination, open only in the summer.

We wandered the boardwalks, and were astonished to see that you can stay in the old cottages now - we could peek inside some, where housekeeping staff were at work.  Further along we saw this old truck with a fern growing in the back:

Banff trail ride day three

Another rainy day, though by the time we'd had breakfast and got on the horses, it had slowed to a misty rain. We hadn't gone far when we arrived at the Stoney creek warden station - years ago park wardens and their families would live full time in the park, in small cabins.

The park warden lived here with his wife and son

And on we went, stopping again for lunch beside the river, riding back to another corral near town. It was a great ride, despite the clouds and rain - a wonderful group, a great guide and good, sure-footed horses. We saw lots of wildflowers, some of which I could identify, lots of deer, one rabbit, a heron, and a Spruce grouse. No bears, thank heavens!

Denver, my horse for the three days

Banff trail ride day two

When we woke up to pouring rain, we knew we wouldn't be riding up to the Dormer Pass.  Greg had told us the night before that if it rained the pass would be in the clouds... so plan B was to wait for the rain to either stop or slow down, and do a shorter ride up the river.
By 10:30 there was only a slight drizzle, and we were heading north up the trail. We crossed Stoney creek and arrived at an old fire road - these were built in the thirties when fires were fought by hand, with a hose in the creek.  Several hours later we turned off into a meadow to have lunch beside an old elk pen - years ago when there were too few predators and too many elk, they would capture them and truck them off to other places.

The old elk corral

Again Greg unpacked the mule and got the fire going - no bagged lunches for us! This time it was grilled cheese sandwiches - grilled in tin foil over the fire.

Crystal the mule carried wood, a stove and food for lunch

We took a different way back to camp, on a narrow twisty trail beside the river, sometimes climbing high above it and then having to descend down steep paths. We crossed a slide, and at one point the trail had a cliff on one side and a drop-off on the other, but mainly it had a lot of sharp turns. A memorable quote from one of the Australians, who was on a really big horse, part draft: "it was like driving a semi - the front end would go around and then you had to wait for the back end to get around." It was a memorable ride, not for the faint of heart, and gave us much to talk about back at camp.

Banff trail ride day one

We met at the barn the first morning - eight riders in total: three Australians, four from Ontario, and myself, the only one from BC.  After collecting our saddle bags we were driven up to the corral on Mt. Norquay, which is a ski area in winter.  There we met our guide, Greg, and our horse for the three day trip.
We set off with Greg leading a mule, rode under the chair lifts, and headed up a trail. Soon we were in the forest, on narrow trails that were steep and rocky; we crossed a few creeks, some with wooden bridges over them.
After several hours we arrived at a meadow - it was time for lunch! Letting our horses graze, it was good to get off and stretch our legs. Greg unpacked the mule, and from the two boxes came a small barrel stove and wood - soon there was a fire crackling and he got water from the creek for cowboy coffee and for tea. Once that was ready out came small steaks - we ate them with potato salad.

Our guide cooks steaks over the fire

We got on our horses again and headed up the trail - a few hours later we crossed the wide and quite deep (up to my horse's belly) Cascade river and arrived at the Stoney Creek camp. The cook greeted us and showed us where to find our duffel bags - they had been transported by mule along a shorter route. She showed us the kitchen tent, our main gathering place, and lead us up a trail to a clearing and our tents.

Home sweet home for 2 nights - it had a comfortable cot inside

After dinner we sat outside around a campfire beside the river - the sun came out briefly. Since the flood two years ago the river is a lot closer to the camp.

The Cascade river