Gift of a smile

I have been given, and have gave, some wonderful gifts in my time. There is no reason to list them at all. The best of them all is the gift of a real smile. One that comes from the heart, without a price tag of a hope or expectation of a return smile. One that comes unexpectantly. One that reveals the givers tenderness and compassion.
When I get such a smile I find myself a bit shy, a little off kilter. The smile makes me forget my troubles and assures me that I do have some value.
It truly makes my day, and makes me feel so good. Thank you for that.

And when I smile back at you, I hope that I can convey all this too.

You have a warm, beautiful smile. I hope mine is too.

You make my day!

British Columbia Sights

The ferry ride from Horseshoe Bay, north of downtown Vancouver, to Langale is one of those trips were I can get up really close to the beauty of nature. It is a short 30 minute ride filled with visual treats from the start. The snow covered mounains fall into the gray ocean water. Islands of dappled green float by. Mystery boats keep their secrets in tiny inlets. I was up there for only 5 days and time still went by like a shot. Here is a wonderful art piece outside the ticket office at the treminal. The orca is painted with scenes of the life in the sound.
And yes orcas do indeed live here.









The ferry, the Queen of Coquitlan, approaches the terminal with the snow line of the Canadian Rockies hanging low and cool. I will be on board in but a few moments.

The carved totem pole in the watefront park has all the traditional carved figures such as raven, bear and eagle.

Its a little too early for tourists to be gawking and squawking at the views, so the desks are empty. The occasional and desperate smoker hides in the sun room to the left. Hard to believe it was not that long ago that it was OK to smoke anywhere you wanted to on board.







The afternoon ride was foggy and gray, best suited for a warm cup of tea, so I got one. It was two bucks. Locals bring their own tea bag and get a free cup of hot water and make their own. Told to me with a smirk by a woman who reflected her natural surroundings.









The big treat for me was having a ocean otter swim up to the boat and look up at me. This was the first time in my life I have ever seen one of these wonderful creatures. Way bigger than I would have thought. Tiny ears. They love to eat crabs, no wonder I can identify with them.














Smiles for you, and here's to your good health. Hope to be back here again soon.

This was a very fast trip to see family, sights and relax in the sun while home was still wet with rain. Go figure.

Back in Portland, still at Skyhouse

Hard to believe that almost a week has gone by. The days up there remained  separated by specific hikes and weather conditions, but they still sped by. And here's how that time went.

The journey to the cabin still takes me at the rate of one hour for each mile. Total distance was 8.5 miles, start time was 5AM, with final arrival 2 PM. I pulled a sled with two fully loaded backpacks and a box of green groceries for my friends.  My cabin is a mile past were they live. The big B was gone but the rest of my friends were there. The box contained a variety of chlorophyl items, spinach, broccoli, lettuce, cilantro, green chillies, green onions and for color, a banana. This small gift was to add to their diet since they had been unable to drive out since last week for fresh food. The sled at first was top heavy and kept tipping over each time I hit a small bump. Once I relocated the heavy stuff to the bottom the sled pulled easily over the frozen snow.

Dawn arrived in muted tones of gray and white. I could hardly focus on the shift from darkness to light as I tried to get the miles in. I felt strong but kept the pace regular, focusing on small goals. Lets get to the next bend before having a drink of water, or celebrate passing the next creek. Hour after hour passed, the day getting lighter and warmer. The landscape is so beautiful to see and I get to be part of this incredible beauty. The snow changes from icy crystals to a softer, wetter slush, my snowshoes slightly sinking with each step instead of gliding.

Once I entered into the old growth the road became patchy with the snow waist deep or else the gravel road was exposed. The terrain is much steeper so I abandoned the sled, one pack and the box of groceries. I still have three miles to go before I would see anyone. The sled is just too heavy to pull and I could feel the strain on my body. It's too bad because there is nothing I can do about it, I have to finish this hike no matter how long it takes or how bad I might feel. No one is going to come resue me or give me a ride. The idea is to return back the next day and shuttle the rest of the gear. When I arrived at my friends cabin he was pleased to see me and find out there was a box of treats for him and the others. He said he would try to pick up all the gear and food, saving me a trip. I then hiked the additional mile up to the cabin. Since its mostly uphill and the snow had become deeper and wetter, the trip was broken up by small rest stops that became more and more frequent. Soon the cabin appeared through the snow covered trees and I was finally home. Tired, exhausted and happy.


All is fine. The snow has now slid off the cabin roof. The snow behind the cabin is deep and needs to be shoveled off the back wall and thrown downhill. There is a lot of snow in front of the front door. But all looks well and I am relieved. And now to settle in. I first start with warming my toes up by replacing the wet socks and boots with dry ones. Then a warm fire in the wood stove. Sleeping bags get unrolled and a green/red blanket on top  for the cold night ahead. Snow tracked into the cabin was swept back outside. Water needs to carried up from little creek in a five gallon bucket. But to do so required putting snow shoes back on otherwise you sank waist deep into the snow. All these chores are carried out as the sun set and night fell. The cabin was now warm and toasty, dinner and dishes are done. Outside the snow is falling in fine flakes. It's only 7:30 PM but I don't care. I turn off the light and drift into sleep. I awake sometime in the depth of the night. The stove has gone out, the cabin is really cold. But it's okay, I'm snuggled in warm and comfy under the blanket and go back to sleep.

Morning is very cold, the sun is out and the green trees outside the window are dressed in last nights fine powder. The sky is a hard intense blue with no hint of wind. Strong black coffee starts my day and I dress up and head back down the hill to see if indeed my gear had arrived. Yes, there was my second pack leaning against the cabin wall. Now I had clean clothes, my fine wine and plenty to eat. I thanked the fellows for their endeavor but they merely shrugged it off and said that they had managed to push the tractor down the road and they could be able to drive out soon. Wow, maybe I should have waited a day and fished a ride!!! I have invited them to come up for dinner tonight at five. I am looking forward to their company. Again I pushed back up the hill towards my cabin, a lot easier today than yesterday. My trail in the snow is now becoming more defined as I follow my own tracks back home.

I am looking for animal tracks. But I see none at all. There are no secrets in the snow, nor any authors apparently. Perhaps the critters are hunkered down too, warm in their lairs and nests. Maybe I need to get off this trail and see if there is anything closer to the creek. Usually I will find the dog prints of the coyote or the line caused by a mouse dragging her tail.

I feel no sense of aloneness or loneliness. Rather I'm comfortable with my own company. I will  be here for another five days and except for tonight's visit the remainder of the time will be up to me to spend as I want. And  lot of that time will be outside.  Some common sense is in order when outside. A broken bone, or slip on the snow cornice into the creek could be disastrous. I carry a small back up pack that has survival gear. No one will come look for me until six or seven days from now. And if they do at least they just have to follow my snowshoe prints. If it does't snow. That's also a long time to figure out that maybe an extra bite to eat should have been packed. Risk is part of the price and I am glad to pay it. Given a choice between driving down the road or going off trail I"ll gladly make my own way.

Each following day settled into routine of small forays out into the wilderness, keeping the wood stove going, and cooking/cleaning up. A real pleasure not to have to shave. Each evening I read until the book drops, the cabin comfortable. The woodstove firelight flickers and then dies down.

Part of the cooking/cleaning up is going down the hill to the small stream for water. The water is snow melt, pure, clean and with a distinct sweet taste. The bucket quickly fills, and then its back up the hill. I am so thankful for this water. The cabin used to have water brought from another higher stream, but the pipe usually filled with stream sediment, or burst from freezing temperatures. Instead for constantly repairing the pipe which has now been removed, it's just nicer, easier to go jack 'n jill.

I use one five gallon bucket a day for washing, cooking and drinking. In the city just one flush of a toilet is five gallons, so here water use is greatly diminished, forcing me to realize how wasteful we really are with our precious water.

The afternoons are when I like to go out and explore. Each day I head out in a different way sometimes overlapping my own trail. I notice the newly downed tree, or the hidden logs under the deep snow. Occasionally a winter wren calls out its lilting notes. There is no wind and the snow sits in the trees waiting for more snow or warmer weather in order to fall. My wandering through this winter landscape is a constant shift in perspective, the cliffs below, the two hundred foot high old growth firs, the angle of ascent uphill to a connecting trail. Each scene change brings its own gift of beauty with me moving through it in comfort and acceptance. I don't feel the visitor but rather the partner. And then the gift of the day. Tracks coming up from the stream below, the prints as large as an adult human foot clearly showing the sharp claws. Not fresh but from earlier this morning. Would have like to have seen you my dear bear.


More later

Snow decisions

The conditions are not good. More snow is falling everyday, increasing the depth and since its slightly warm the snow is very wet. This makes for sloggy conditions, post holing even with snowshoes. And carrying a heavy pack just drives me deeper into the snow. I have done this trip for the last two winters and vowed that I would never punish myself so brutally again. Ten hours to go ten miles. Ten miles of not a soul. If something happens I am on my own for a long time. Crazy. My only sneaky way to beat this is to arrive between 2 to 3 in the morning when the snow should be still below freezing. Then I can make pretty fast time, maybe as fast as 4 hours, traveling on top of the frozen or packed snow. This would get me to the cabin before the wet conditions take over. Oh, did I mention I will be pulling a sled with all my gear up hill for the most part. Got to have that fine wine and tasty dinner....food for the five days.

I am also nervous about leaving the truck on the edge of the road. I can imagine the local sheriff wondering if I am dead or what. Tow it or leave it he wonders.  And the local yahoos go " Hey, free truck everyone."

Forecast is for snow everyday for a week, maybe rain snow mix.  So, I have to do the same trick to return back home.

Conditions are not good.

Gotta go.

Winding up for snow

This trip is all about the prep and journey to a tiny cabin tucked away in the old growth forest of Oregon. To reach it, follow an old road for seven 'n half miles and then follow a small trail winding its way past huge trees and lush vegetation for another mile. Most of this mile is uphill.

I am worried about the snow load both on the roof as well as what has fallen behind the cabin. The snow load on the back wall of the cabin can cause it to lean forward, the heavy snow on the roof will finish the job. We have had a lot of snow in the Cascades this winter and more is promised for the next day or so. Sunday seems  so far away even though its only two days away and there is still much to prepare.

I shopped for the basics yesterday, trying to follow a menu of sorts. I included fresh Chinook salmon, a hearty burgundy stew, kung pao chicken and am still up in the air as for for another meal. And a little wine. I need to let the big B know I am coming through and see if he needs anything. Since he is my closest neighbor, with only one mile of trail between our cabins, so I like to keep him advised. They have been snowed in all week, with more falling daily. He might need something and its no sweat to get it.

.

Here I am

I look everyday to see the changes. The numbers tell me how many but not who.

I think a lot about nature, and loving it. Sharin

I think about do I select or am I chosen?

I think about light and how fast it is.

I think about this incredible gift offered to me.


I have a lot to tell you.