Week 4 Part 2

Heading North into the Okanagan

The land got drier as I neared the southern end of the Okanagan, with some rocky splendours to look at (or just the wrong side of the road, left). Penticton was bigger than I remembered it from 1997. Finding the hostel wasn't hard though, and it didn't seem to have changed a bit. Although this time, the few occupants were some nice Canadians doing a training course in town (as opposed to the uncouth boarders last time). The new owner was renovating it, but it was just as homey as I remembered.


Sunday, March 28th saw me re-visiting Apex, this time in my own car rather than having to thumb lifts! The proliferation of new streets and condo development was very confusing, in fact, I missed the base area and had to turn back. But the on-hill facilities had not changed a bit, which was a pity. The back area was closed this day, and some racers were doing a max. vert challenge for which the icy conditions were perfect. Big difference from the powder of last time.


Back runs at Silver Star

 I got bored by 2pm, and packed up and left, heading for Vernon. I gave Big White a miss this time, wanting instead to ski the place I missed in 97, Silver Star. There was no HI hostel in Vernon, so I found an independant place, called Lodged Inn. A ramshackle building with uneven floors, but quiet and friendly. There was a huge and very friendly cat in residence, who liked to push open my door and invade my bedroom! He decided my tummy was a good place to sleep.
Monday March 29 dawned with cloud and some sun (and the cat snoring on my tummy).
I got up to the hill quite quickly (it's very close to town), curious to find out if what a lady at Revelstoke had said was true, that Silver Star had a rule that all buildings must sport a minimum of 5 colours! Well, she wasn't far off.

I stooged around some blue cruisers, enjoying the crisp new snow that had fallen, and met lots of friendly locals on the chairs. I was happily bludging, when one of the guys I'd met on the chair recognised me, and decided to take me in hand and show off his hill. So, me and Henry cruised around, but then he decided to show me the really good stuff.... a shoal of black runs on the back side, good heavans! Some even featured bumps. Some runs were so narrow, only 2 moguls would fit and I bet they didn't even have names. Some hidden routes through the trees, too, that I couldn't even find the following day. At lunch, we were joined by Henry's mate, Laurie, and then things got even seriouser....Laurie liked to take his X-Screams through every bump on the mountain, steep runs preferred.

I fell over more that day than in the entire trip! They also showed me right around the mountain (this is a 360 hill) and some of the more interesting architecture not in the actual village. I had a great day, seeing tons more stuff than I ever would have on my own. Laurie and Henry were justly proud of Silver Star, and showed it off very well. Thanks guys! Wish I'd got a pic of them though.

I skiied the next day, but it wasn't nearly as much fun...besides, my legs were still jelly. After using a Russian net cafe in Vernon, I hit the road again (Wednesday March 31), after again having to pay for my bed by putting money under a door! I was heading for Cache Creek, where I'd decided to spend the night, so my run to Whistler the next day would be easy (not knowing what the road was going to be like). Went via Kamloops and Salmon Arm, and again the scenery was dry and stark. After seeing these horrible dual back wheel Dodge Rams everywhere, when I wanted to get a shot of one for posterity, I had to try and snap this fellow after he overtook me. Typical.

I was able to do some shopping on the way, and dwaddled along, looking at mountains. This lot to the right was around Lilloet, rather a starkly beautiful little settlement in the middle of nowhere. I think they do logging.
There is nothing more depressing than the end of a holiday, and Cache Creek did nothing to elevate my mood. It exists as a crossroads settlement, and was muddy and quite unattractive, so I've taken no pictures. Nice dinner and beers at the local pub, and then I spent the night trying to cram all my stuff into bags which had shrunk in the car...

Thurs April 1: My last day! How depressing. The drive back down through Pemberton was even more spectacular than before, and I defied the avalanche signs to get a few shots. It was warm, t-shirt weather, the radio still played the Shania Twain song every hour and so there was no regrets when the mountains blocked out the signal.

It felt very weird, returning to Whistler after my long road-trip. The weather was much warmer now, and the atmosphere quite relaxed. I still couldn't find a dual-wheel Dodge Ram to photograph for my car buddies back in Oz, so this "riced" 4WD had to suffice.
The sales were on, but they were pretty woeful. So I had lunch at the Hard Rock cafe (why?!), and then finally, it was time to hand back my car. Oh, woe! Car-less again.
Then an easy walk down the stairs and across the road to the bus place with my gear, back where I'd arrived all those weeks ago. My ski bag was a worry. Far too heavy, even with the generous weight limits across the Pacific!

The bus driver was out enjoying the sun, and we chatted about the overturned logging truck that had closed the road to Vancouver all morning; the radio had been full of it. The drive south was beautiful, this time I wasn't falling asleep and could get shots!


Howe Sound...

The airport was a zoo, but I did well and got allocated window seats the whole way! What a stunt.
I very kindly demonstrated how awkward my ski bag was, and offered to carry it down to the door where ski bags go. They forgot to weigh it....whew! Sitting in the plane, I felt quite sad leaving Vancouver...again. The trip home was better than the trip out, I slept quite a lot, and Sydney airport was the standard schemozzle we've all grown used to. There was the usual brawl at the domestic counter (someone had smashed a bottle of cognac, to make his point) and I missed my connection.
So played on the internet in the Qantas Club lounge, and marvelled at how bright the sunlight was.
Home again, sigh.

Home

 

The end.