If there be such a thing as truth, it must infallibly be struck out by
the collision of mind with mind. -William Godwin, philosopher and
novelist (3 Mar 1756-1836)
Hello Sara The Stranger! Trust you are well. Hope your "hard time" at the Library isn't interfering with riding but somehow doubt that this is the case. Life continues to be busy.
Am wondering if you might do me a small favour. The UBC Annual Retired Librarians Lunch for 2016 is on for Tuesday, March 22nd. Unfortunately I won't be able to attend and I was hoping you might let Harold the Younger know that I send my regrets. Ironically, we will be driving into Vancouver both before and after that date. We are coming into town next Thursday to attend Cuffed, a new crime/mystery festival at GI. As well, I'm going to the Rugby Sevens so the weekend will be chock-a-block! Whirlygig and Calamity are driving back with us on Monday to stay for three nights, en route to cross-country skiing, in the US, across from Osoyoos. Day after Easter Monday we are back in town to attend Sarge's official retirement party. At this point, not quite sure how long we will stay in Vancouver. Anyway, if you would be so good as to pass along the fact that I won't be hobnobbing with former colleagues, I'd much appreciate it! [I have discovered, from bitter, past experience, that I must put "important stuff" at the very beginning of my messages or else narcolepsy seems to afflict my readers!]
Hello Sara The Stranger! Trust you are well. Hope your "hard time" at the Library isn't interfering with riding but somehow doubt that this is the case. Life continues to be busy.
Am wondering if you might do me a small favour. The UBC Annual Retired Librarians Lunch for 2016 is on for Tuesday, March 22nd. Unfortunately I won't be able to attend and I was hoping you might let Harold the Younger know that I send my regrets. Ironically, we will be driving into Vancouver both before and after that date. We are coming into town next Thursday to attend Cuffed, a new crime/mystery festival at GI. As well, I'm going to the Rugby Sevens so the weekend will be chock-a-block! Whirlygig and Calamity are driving back with us on Monday to stay for three nights, en route to cross-country skiing, in the US, across from Osoyoos. Day after Easter Monday we are back in town to attend Sarge's official retirement party. At this point, not quite sure how long we will stay in Vancouver. Anyway, if you would be so good as to pass along the fact that I won't be hobnobbing with former colleagues, I'd much appreciate it! [I have discovered, from bitter, past experience, that I must put "important stuff" at the very beginning of my messages or else narcolepsy seems to afflict my readers!]
Must away as I'm off to try snow-shoeing at Apex with hiking group. Have never done any before so wish me luck. All the best to your menfolk. Fondestos and Cheers, Patrizzio! Pic: Firewood left to chop and split so life isn't just a picnic here!
Hi Jean! Sorry to learn that you had had trouble sleeping. Hope you were well awake for John Prine. How was the concert? Where did you have dinner? Must away as I need to get ready for snow-shoeing. Cheers, Patrizzio!
Hello Snow-Shoe Buffs! First thanks to Al and James for such an incredible outing. This was, for me, anyway, a baptism of snow and ice, so thank you for orchestrating it! Thanks as well, to everyone else who helped and encouraged me at every step of the way. [Do I sound like I'm giving an Oscar speech?] Much appreciated and I trust I'll become far more self-sufficient, [aka as "lazy" according to Lulu!], in the not too, too distant future! Without question, White Magic! How fortunate we are. How fortunate am I to be a part of this wonderful company of friends and sadists! Cheers, Patrizzio!
Reflections of a snow-shoe novice:
Since we were to snow-shoe at Apex, I drove to HH to meet with group. Once all the interested Summerlandians and Pentictonites were there Big Al gave us directions and we piled into our assigned vehicles. Al and I sandwiched Olga Polga in the back of Chuckster's car and Josinta pontificated, (Someone had to do that since Aarturo was riding with someone else!), from the front. Interesting to note the change in both temperature and snow cover as we drove towards the Village. After parking we unloaded our gear and everyone proceeded to strap on their snow-shoes. This was my very first time out and Lorenzo II very, very kindly and competently made sure that all my fasteners and bindings were tight and secure and I was ready to go. Sun was shining brightly and there were but a few fluffy clouds in the crystal clear blue sky so we couldn't have wanted better conditions, had we ordered things up!
Gang didn't wait and I hurried after them as they disappeared, rather quickly, I thought, to my growing dismay, into the trees at the edge of the parking lot. Was quite apprehensive, I must admit, about how I would manage. Had nightmarish visions of tripping over my own snow-shoes, toppling head-over heels, or crashing sideways, into a deep snow-bank or tree-well, where I'd flounder and flail, helplessly, until I'd finally succumb to hypothermia and expire, dying of exposure, my body not to be found until the thaw! [Lady Dar did nothing to dispel my deep-seated, feverish fears, when I expressed my doubts about going. "Don't worry, Duhlink, I've insured you for a cool 5 million, $US, so I'll be a very, very merry widow!"]
However, I am more than delighted to report, Dear Reader, that I soon cottoned on to the slip-sliding rhythm that seems to characterize efficient snow-shoeing. Walking on my own frames wasn't really an issue either.One doesn't really have to emulate an exaggerated, bow-legged cowpoke gait, to make headway. A slight change in normal walking stance is all that is required, at least for me, the untutored, inexpert one. However, I must say that the first part of the trail was a fairly steep, downhill grade and I proceeded with some trepidation but without mishap, through the literal tunnel of overarching trees. Then we came to a lovely stream! Picturesque indeed but needing to be crossed by a narrow wooden bridge composed of slats encrusted with snow and ice. I gazed around, hyperventilating, hoping to find an alternate route across, much like I do on a regular hike when we come to dead-fall or a huge trunk, too difficult to negotiate easily, for me at least.
Nothing presented itself so I grit my teeth and approached the bridge. Bridge! It wasn't a construction worthy of such a lofty name. More like a edifice of matchsticks over the raging waters of the Fraser near Hell's Canyon. Those ahead of me had, more or less, skipped across while those behind were laughing and joking, oblivious to the sheer terror that gripped me, paralyzed my brain. Still, I knew I had to try so I millimetered my right snow-shoe onto the first crosspiece, extending my poles ahead to try to achieve some sort of precarious balance. Taking a deep breath, wanting to shut my eyes but keeping them open in spite of my rising hysteria, I moved my left foot beside the right. The way was so narrow that both outer edges were over the raging torrent below, waiting, malevolently, to sweep me away, should I slip and topple, a realization that did little for my already shaky composure. Somehow, I truly know not how, I kept going, gingerly, reluctantly, lily-liveredly until I made purchase on the opposite bank and I was safely across. Once there, I dared not look back for fear that the troll which lived under this excuse for a bridge would reach up and clutch my ankles, drawing me back, kicking an d screaming, to his hideous lair!
Once the sheer terror of the crossing has subsided and my heart rate returned to normal, I began to enjoy the sheer magnificence of where we were. Truly, a winter wonderland: the deep snow, the trees iced with same, the changing light, (as clouds and mist came and went), and the quiet, only broken by the swish of the gliding snow-shoes were nothing short of magical. As well, the track was wide and level enough to allow two people to snow-shoe beside one another. One this section I had the pleasure of chatting with Irene, someone I'd not met before. She and her husband are Swiss and have lived in Penticton for about twenty years. Her friend, Lillianne, was along, as well, and they often conversed in Swiss-German so I thought I was on an outing with Heidi!
About half an hour later we stopped for our obligatory group shot and there was much fussing about who was to be the official photographer. Once this was resolved, unsatisfactorily, I'm sorry to report, we continued on, starting to climb. The slopes were rather gradual at first so I didn't find the going difficult at all. Again, I was simply delirious with being where I was, doing what I was doing. A few more ridges, more or less, and we stopped to say goodbye to the Hardy Folk, those who would climb higher and go further. Their outing time would be around five hours while we were to log only three. Waving goodbye and good riddance, Olga Polga took over as trail blazer until we entered the trees when Intrepid James snatched the reins. Found going through the pines to be absolutely exhilarating. I was in Brothers Grimm-land without any horrid witches. I was Peter, in Peter and the Wolf, without having to worry about being eaten!
Out of the trees, we clambered up a short embankment and found ourselves on a small trail. Decided to stop for a coffee break so we had a sip and a munch and then were on our way again. A few minutes of easy going and we came to a groomed ski trail. Here it was decided that we needed to climb higher before descending, in order to bring us out where we eventually wished to be. Not having the slightest idea of where we were in relation to the network of ski runs and lifts I knew I'd simply follow, sheep-like, whichever direction we took. And so, we started up a very, very steep slope which required a definite zig-zag approach, so sheer was the face. At first it was not overly difficult but certainly rather strenuous, a mini-Grouse Grind, lifting one's snow-shoes and plunking them down in the imprints ahead and above.
About a third of the way up I looked to the sky and asked if we were to climb all the way to heaven as the top of the hill looked about as far away. Jos, I think, said she didn't know so we simply kept plugging along. As we crawled higher and higher, she was very helpful, warning me, well in advance, to dig my toes in, at one corner or another, to prevent or minimize slipping. I had no idea that the snow could actually slide away beneath one's snow-shoes, causing one to fall to one's knees or worse, I imagined! I have to admit that I had not bargained for this situation at all. I felt pretty comfortable inching my way along but I was quite unnerved about the snow pack shearing away under me. As Jos was ahead and above me I knew that I had two or three more corners to negotiate and this thought was very unsettling, let me tell you.
By this time, each step was hard won and I certainly didn't wish to entertain having to take any more than absolutely necessary. [I could only dream about the relative ease of crossing the above-mentioned creek!] Added to my growing discomfit was the fact that I didn't feel the least adept at managing my snow-shoes under these trying circumstances. At times the snow would slip away when I dug in one or other of the tips but I certainly didn't feel agile enough to "skip" or "run" along the surface, like waltzing bravely over thin ice, leaving the friable snow before it collapsed. I had heart-stopping visions of being hurled down the mountain to turn into a giant snowball, given the stickiness of the snow itself, as I careened to oblivion!
Once again, I willed my heart out of my mouth and back into my chest and kept going, encouraged by the fact that Jos had made it to the top and was urging me on. Words cannot describe how relieved I was to join her. I've never really been a thrill seeker and I'll be more than happy to keep to gentler slopes from now on, believe me. Once everyone was safely on the well-groomed, transverse, (I think that is the correct term.), ski trail we paused for a well-earned lunch break not far down the track. Funnily enough, before Chuckerini and Alejandro reached the rest of us, two snow boarders took off over the edge, swooshing down the almost vertical slope with the greatest of ease and skill. Not for me but delighted that such dare-devils exist.
No place to sit but we enjoyed the respite and our food muchly. Once we'd completed our déjeuner sur le neige, we collected our knapsacks and poles and followed the trail, on the look-out for skiers whenever we crossed a run, passing under two chair-lifts, (mostly empty), until we could see many of the larger buildings of Village itself. The conditions, after lunch, couldn't have been better, mostly slightly downhill on shoulders that were covered with a light dusting of fresh powder. By this time I was feeling quite comfortable on my snow-shoes. In actual fact, snow-shoeing, under such conditions, is remarkably easy on one's knees and I felt, if not quite ecstatic, then certainly wonderfully exhilarated, slip-sliding along right into the Village, chatting, ever so amicably with Anthea and a mostly well-behaved Tia, enjoying the incredible cloud formations above the surrounding hills and the quite remarkable, ineluctable light which suffused everything.
Once in the Village we removed our gear, (Thanks Jos for undoing my bindings!), outside The Edge Bistro and enjoyed mugs of java while we rehashed the day. I, for one, was more than delighted at how I had managed on this, my first time on snow-shoes. Must say that my companions were very generous in their support of my effort so I guess I have no excuses not to show up again! Perhaps on more level terrain, but, nevertheless, I'm hooked! Stats for outing:
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1072030847#.VtjP47eyExA.email
Once again, I neglected to turn on my odometre until about 30 minutes into hike. If you look at the map, I believe we followed Strayhorse Road and/or the creek which runs near it, out of the parking lot to where the satellite kicked in. This is where we took some group snapolas.
Patrick James Dunn Next time you are here, when there is snow, we must go out!
Hi Jean! Sorry to learn that you had had trouble sleeping. Hope you were well awake for John Prine. How was the concert? Where did you have dinner? Must away as I need to get ready for snow-shoeing. Cheers, Patrizzio!
Hello Snow-Shoe Buffs! First thanks to Al and James for such an incredible outing. This was, for me, anyway, a baptism of snow and ice, so thank you for orchestrating it! Thanks as well, to everyone else who helped and encouraged me at every step of the way. [Do I sound like I'm giving an Oscar speech?] Much appreciated and I trust I'll become far more self-sufficient, [aka as "lazy" according to Lulu!], in the not too, too distant future! Without question, White Magic! How fortunate we are. How fortunate am I to be a part of this wonderful company of friends and sadists! Cheers, Patrizzio!
Reflections of a snow-shoe novice:
Since we were to snow-shoe at Apex, I drove to HH to meet with group. Once all the interested Summerlandians and Pentictonites were there Big Al gave us directions and we piled into our assigned vehicles. Al and I sandwiched Olga Polga in the back of Chuckster's car and Josinta pontificated, (Someone had to do that since Aarturo was riding with someone else!), from the front. Interesting to note the change in both temperature and snow cover as we drove towards the Village. After parking we unloaded our gear and everyone proceeded to strap on their snow-shoes. This was my very first time out and Lorenzo II very, very kindly and competently made sure that all my fasteners and bindings were tight and secure and I was ready to go. Sun was shining brightly and there were but a few fluffy clouds in the crystal clear blue sky so we couldn't have wanted better conditions, had we ordered things up!
Gang didn't wait and I hurried after them as they disappeared, rather quickly, I thought, to my growing dismay, into the trees at the edge of the parking lot. Was quite apprehensive, I must admit, about how I would manage. Had nightmarish visions of tripping over my own snow-shoes, toppling head-over heels, or crashing sideways, into a deep snow-bank or tree-well, where I'd flounder and flail, helplessly, until I'd finally succumb to hypothermia and expire, dying of exposure, my body not to be found until the thaw! [Lady Dar did nothing to dispel my deep-seated, feverish fears, when I expressed my doubts about going. "Don't worry, Duhlink, I've insured you for a cool 5 million, $US, so I'll be a very, very merry widow!"]
However, I am more than delighted to report, Dear Reader, that I soon cottoned on to the slip-sliding rhythm that seems to characterize efficient snow-shoeing. Walking on my own frames wasn't really an issue either.One doesn't really have to emulate an exaggerated, bow-legged cowpoke gait, to make headway. A slight change in normal walking stance is all that is required, at least for me, the untutored, inexpert one. However, I must say that the first part of the trail was a fairly steep, downhill grade and I proceeded with some trepidation but without mishap, through the literal tunnel of overarching trees. Then we came to a lovely stream! Picturesque indeed but needing to be crossed by a narrow wooden bridge composed of slats encrusted with snow and ice. I gazed around, hyperventilating, hoping to find an alternate route across, much like I do on a regular hike when we come to dead-fall or a huge trunk, too difficult to negotiate easily, for me at least.
Nothing presented itself so I grit my teeth and approached the bridge. Bridge! It wasn't a construction worthy of such a lofty name. More like a edifice of matchsticks over the raging waters of the Fraser near Hell's Canyon. Those ahead of me had, more or less, skipped across while those behind were laughing and joking, oblivious to the sheer terror that gripped me, paralyzed my brain. Still, I knew I had to try so I millimetered my right snow-shoe onto the first crosspiece, extending my poles ahead to try to achieve some sort of precarious balance. Taking a deep breath, wanting to shut my eyes but keeping them open in spite of my rising hysteria, I moved my left foot beside the right. The way was so narrow that both outer edges were over the raging torrent below, waiting, malevolently, to sweep me away, should I slip and topple, a realization that did little for my already shaky composure. Somehow, I truly know not how, I kept going, gingerly, reluctantly, lily-liveredly until I made purchase on the opposite bank and I was safely across. Once there, I dared not look back for fear that the troll which lived under this excuse for a bridge would reach up and clutch my ankles, drawing me back, kicking an d screaming, to his hideous lair!
Once the sheer terror of the crossing has subsided and my heart rate returned to normal, I began to enjoy the sheer magnificence of where we were. Truly, a winter wonderland: the deep snow, the trees iced with same, the changing light, (as clouds and mist came and went), and the quiet, only broken by the swish of the gliding snow-shoes were nothing short of magical. As well, the track was wide and level enough to allow two people to snow-shoe beside one another. One this section I had the pleasure of chatting with Irene, someone I'd not met before. She and her husband are Swiss and have lived in Penticton for about twenty years. Her friend, Lillianne, was along, as well, and they often conversed in Swiss-German so I thought I was on an outing with Heidi!
About half an hour later we stopped for our obligatory group shot and there was much fussing about who was to be the official photographer. Once this was resolved, unsatisfactorily, I'm sorry to report, we continued on, starting to climb. The slopes were rather gradual at first so I didn't find the going difficult at all. Again, I was simply delirious with being where I was, doing what I was doing. A few more ridges, more or less, and we stopped to say goodbye to the Hardy Folk, those who would climb higher and go further. Their outing time would be around five hours while we were to log only three. Waving goodbye and good riddance, Olga Polga took over as trail blazer until we entered the trees when Intrepid James snatched the reins. Found going through the pines to be absolutely exhilarating. I was in Brothers Grimm-land without any horrid witches. I was Peter, in Peter and the Wolf, without having to worry about being eaten!
Out of the trees, we clambered up a short embankment and found ourselves on a small trail. Decided to stop for a coffee break so we had a sip and a munch and then were on our way again. A few minutes of easy going and we came to a groomed ski trail. Here it was decided that we needed to climb higher before descending, in order to bring us out where we eventually wished to be. Not having the slightest idea of where we were in relation to the network of ski runs and lifts I knew I'd simply follow, sheep-like, whichever direction we took. And so, we started up a very, very steep slope which required a definite zig-zag approach, so sheer was the face. At first it was not overly difficult but certainly rather strenuous, a mini-Grouse Grind, lifting one's snow-shoes and plunking them down in the imprints ahead and above.
About a third of the way up I looked to the sky and asked if we were to climb all the way to heaven as the top of the hill looked about as far away. Jos, I think, said she didn't know so we simply kept plugging along. As we crawled higher and higher, she was very helpful, warning me, well in advance, to dig my toes in, at one corner or another, to prevent or minimize slipping. I had no idea that the snow could actually slide away beneath one's snow-shoes, causing one to fall to one's knees or worse, I imagined! I have to admit that I had not bargained for this situation at all. I felt pretty comfortable inching my way along but I was quite unnerved about the snow pack shearing away under me. As Jos was ahead and above me I knew that I had two or three more corners to negotiate and this thought was very unsettling, let me tell you.
By this time, each step was hard won and I certainly didn't wish to entertain having to take any more than absolutely necessary. [I could only dream about the relative ease of crossing the above-mentioned creek!] Added to my growing discomfit was the fact that I didn't feel the least adept at managing my snow-shoes under these trying circumstances. At times the snow would slip away when I dug in one or other of the tips but I certainly didn't feel agile enough to "skip" or "run" along the surface, like waltzing bravely over thin ice, leaving the friable snow before it collapsed. I had heart-stopping visions of being hurled down the mountain to turn into a giant snowball, given the stickiness of the snow itself, as I careened to oblivion!
Once again, I willed my heart out of my mouth and back into my chest and kept going, encouraged by the fact that Jos had made it to the top and was urging me on. Words cannot describe how relieved I was to join her. I've never really been a thrill seeker and I'll be more than happy to keep to gentler slopes from now on, believe me. Once everyone was safely on the well-groomed, transverse, (I think that is the correct term.), ski trail we paused for a well-earned lunch break not far down the track. Funnily enough, before Chuckerini and Alejandro reached the rest of us, two snow boarders took off over the edge, swooshing down the almost vertical slope with the greatest of ease and skill. Not for me but delighted that such dare-devils exist.
No place to sit but we enjoyed the respite and our food muchly. Once we'd completed our déjeuner sur le neige, we collected our knapsacks and poles and followed the trail, on the look-out for skiers whenever we crossed a run, passing under two chair-lifts, (mostly empty), until we could see many of the larger buildings of Village itself. The conditions, after lunch, couldn't have been better, mostly slightly downhill on shoulders that were covered with a light dusting of fresh powder. By this time I was feeling quite comfortable on my snow-shoes. In actual fact, snow-shoeing, under such conditions, is remarkably easy on one's knees and I felt, if not quite ecstatic, then certainly wonderfully exhilarated, slip-sliding along right into the Village, chatting, ever so amicably with Anthea and a mostly well-behaved Tia, enjoying the incredible cloud formations above the surrounding hills and the quite remarkable, ineluctable light which suffused everything.
Once in the Village we removed our gear, (Thanks Jos for undoing my bindings!), outside The Edge Bistro and enjoyed mugs of java while we rehashed the day. I, for one, was more than delighted at how I had managed on this, my first time on snow-shoes. Must say that my companions were very generous in their support of my effort so I guess I have no excuses not to show up again! Perhaps on more level terrain, but, nevertheless, I'm hooked! Stats for outing:
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1072030847#.VtjP47eyExA.email
Once again, I neglected to turn on my odometre until about 30 minutes into hike. If you look at the map, I believe we followed Strayhorse Road and/or the creek which runs near it, out of the parking lot to where the satellite kicked in. This is where we took some group snapolas.
Chloe Alexis Dunn Glad you enjoyed yourself D!! I like the level trails better myself and when going down steep hills usually go on my bum.
Hi! We
had a wonderful time seeing John Prine once again. Although approaching
seventy he managed to entice his loyal followers with long time
favorites. It
was a sellout concert packed with boomers and a lot of white hair,
hippies & bikers. He was accompanied by his long time bassist of
about twenty five
years and two guitarists who were well skilled in their art with a
variety of instruments. The audience hooted and hollered when John
Prine was accompanied by two local artists, the gal singing was close in
style to Iris Dement and when playing her fiddle
the audience went wild. It was a wonderful concert indeed. She was
talented.
Dinner
at Zambris a classic Italian restaurant located in the Atrium Bldg.
that seemed to reach the divine heavens. Food was excellent with wild
salmon,
rappini, crispy broccoli, braised potatoes followed by Panna Cotta,
molded chilled dessert with cherries and chocolate, decaf expresso. Food
for the Gods.
With
the sun out today did a couple of laps along the long winding beach and
find great pleasure is seeing the never ending exuberance that the
hounds seem
to have Good
to see that you are so active, John is still playing squash only once a
week though. Glad to hear Cora Lee’s foot is on the mend and hope her
trip
was rewarding. Love, Jean
Hi George and Jane, Sorry for taking so long to reply. I will do
dinner the first night and it would be great if you two want to do the
second night and then I will do the birthday dinner. It will be great to
show you the area which we are still discovering. I was just in Vancouver and enjoyed seeing Chloe and friends. But it was great coming back to Penticton. See you soon! Fondest, Corinne
Good Evening, Coming up on Monday, March 7th please join us for a presentation by Dorothy Tinning entitled "The Essential Elements for an Artist".
Experience the art of Dorothy Tinning, visual artist, and honorary fellow of Okanagan College as she presents a session packed with information about the “essential elements” behind her art. Her Acrylic on Canvas paintings celebrate nature, and the history and culture of the land.
All presentations are held in the lecture theatre at the Penticton campus of Okanagan College (583 Duncan Ave West) starting at 7:00 pm. Note there is no charge for parking in the college lot after 6:00 pm. Admission is by donation to the Dire Straits Fund at Okanagan College. Hope to see you on Monday.
Good Evening, Coming up on Monday, March 7th please join us for a presentation by Dorothy Tinning entitled "The Essential Elements for an Artist".
Experience the art of Dorothy Tinning, visual artist, and honorary fellow of Okanagan College as she presents a session packed with information about the “essential elements” behind her art. Her Acrylic on Canvas paintings celebrate nature, and the history and culture of the land.
All presentations are held in the lecture theatre at the Penticton campus of Okanagan College (583 Duncan Ave West) starting at 7:00 pm. Note there is no charge for parking in the college lot after 6:00 pm. Admission is by donation to the Dire Straits Fund at Okanagan College. Hope to see you on Monday.
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