Hello, long time, no post! I have had quite the back log of experiences I wanted to write about, and unfortunately, the curse of time has made it all a little blurry. I’ve greatly missed adding to this archive of my experiences across Canada and while, of course, I started it originally as a project for my co-op learning goals way back in the times of Alert, it has evolved into something much more than just a piece of homework.
I hope to catch up on the backlog this week, so stay tuned 🙂
AUGUST 10-13, 2024
Hey, so, remember about nearly a year ago I was in Alberta living it up in the big city of Edmonton? Well, I also visited the big province of British Columbia for the first time as well!
At the time, my friend Miran was working at a crop and soil lab operated by Agriculture Canada in a small town named Agassiz. I flew in midday to the Abbotsford Airport, where I met up with him – it had been the first time I had seen him for upwards of 8 months and he looked much scruffier than I last saw. The west coast had him in a chokehold, and he had absolutely fallen head over heels by the misty mountains, and vibrant culture of the western coast. He is from the east coast, so maybe he felt comforted by the coastal climate with now the addition of everything that makes British Columbia so utterly unique. Together, we picked up a rental car and set off on our (really my) blitzkrieg of a tour across the southern end of the province.
Our first stop was the village of Harrison Hot Springs (that’s the full town name I swear), which is known for, you guessed it, its hot springs. There are two main hot springs, respectively named ‘Potash’ and ‘Sulphur’ which average a toasty 65°C. The Fraser Valley is also known for its many Bigfoot sightings (we were only a quick drive from Sasquatch Provincial Park), so it was quite fun to see all the silly Bigfoot statues ranging from impressive wood carvings into the trunks of ancient trees and much faded touristy photo ops from the 80s. We didn’t actually go into the hot springs themselves, but we did hike the narrow, and truly treacherous at times, trail to a tucked away beach where I got to enjoy the cooling waters of Harrison Lake amidst the soft sprawling peaks of the Fraser Valley.
That night Miran and I his coworkers at the local Agassiz bar – Sossy’s, as they were celebrating their send off as the summer co-op season came to a close. It was weird seeing people I only sort of knew from the university in this context, but after a few drinks and wandering the quiet streets, I could feel the west coast siren call echo in my ears just as it clearly had them.
The next morning, we groggily rose and ushered ourselves out the door at a snail’s pace. We made our way south-west towards Chilliwack and through nice suburban neighbourhoods with roads that spiraled up the steep foothills of Mount Thom. Even though I had already become accustomed to more trees and slightly less flat terrain in Edmonton after spending months in the heart of the prairie, it had been a welcome change hiking up that mountain and seeing the Fraser Valley from above. I honestly don’t remember much from the hike other than melting under my own sweat that refused to evaporate under the humid conditions and enjoying the view from the top. I also had my trusty staircase exercises to thank for getting my legs ready for elevated hikes once again.
Maybe it’s a little ironic I was living in Alberta during peak rodeo season, and yet my first rodeo was in Chilliwack at the Chilliwack Fair. I had no idea what to expect but was pleasantly surprised. The country bug had already bitten me in the prairies; I had curated my very own country playlist after being a vehement country hater for years and Miran had forced me to start to appreciate a good ale at the brewery we had visited earlier in the day. But the rodeo had fully catalyzed my conversion. I too wish I could live the life of a rodeo clown…
The next day, the 12th, I was a little disappointed to hear that Miran was thoroughly Vancouver-ed out. I was hoping to at least get to the actual coast to say by the barest of margins I had visited it as I was still on track with my goal of visiting all three coasts in under a year. Oh well, I told myself, maybe I can squeeze it in before getting back on the plane tomorrow.
Our destination of the day was decided to be Osoyoos – Canada’s only desert. And you may be saying, “Val! Osoyoos is like a 3-hour drive from Agassiz! That’s a 6-hour drive day for one place!” And you are absolutely correct. But hey, I am a firm believer that a good road trip is the best way to experience the landscape, and I will never turn down the opportunity for a fun, scenic drive. I experienced all the other 4 provinces the very same way, from the four windows of my clown car and while the way too teched out corolla was not my little blue fiesta, it would have to do. Plus, Miran really wanted to go. I did find it further ironic I had left the plains of sage and wild rose just to see a slightly different sage and wild rose in a much more humid and hotter place known for its soaring temperatures, however.
And so, we hit the Crowsnest east towards the Okanagan Valley that morning. We drove the winding mountain roads up the verdant cliffsides of mountains I hadn’t caught the names of, took in the barren plateaus of Copper Mountain, felt our stomachs twist as we cruised down into the gullies of towns that stood the test of time as they drifted further from their mining and railway heritage. At the end of our journey, the Highway 3 curved along a mountainous plateau of Mount Kruger and overlooked Lake Osoyoos. It gave us a pleasant welcome look at the township of Osoyoos nestled along its shores.
The air was damp and heavy, charged with the energy of an oncoming thunderstorm, and we sweltered in the 36°C weather from the balcony of the Burrowing Owl Estate Winery. I am not a big wine person, but it seemed fitting to sample the artisan goods as the area has become well-known for its wine, just as Niagara has. I also ate the best wild mushroom quiche of my life, and I dream of that flakey puff pastry and cheesy mushroom filling to this day. The pinot noir was also pretty okay. I had no idea what the tasting notes were even talking about. Yeah man, it’s wine.
“If we want to check out the Desert Centre, we should probably do that soon.” I commented, watching the large cumulonimbus clouds forming over the aptly named Anarchist Mountain ridge. If you looked close enough, you could see lightning behind to light up the deep recesses of the imposing clouds. The smell of a storm diffused through the frighteningly stagnant air. The winery was Miran’s idea, and the Osoyoos Desert Centre was mine as I have a soft spot for interpretive centres. We finished our meal and headed back out, blasting our AC on the maximum setting.
The Osoyoos Desert Society is a nonprofit charitable organization that aims to conserve the incredibly fragile and complex habitats across the Okanagan Valley and operates the Osoyoos Desert Centre. Me and Miran donated our respective $10, and after perusing the variety of skulls, snakeskins, and plant specimens inside the quaintly decorated portable, set off on our self-guided tour. The boardwalk wound through a section of protected desert and the large sage bushes smelled sweetly on the warm air. I have the brochure of the tour somewhere and wish I could share more about the things I learned, and maybe I will come back to this post and add it, but I think for the greater good, you should just visit Osoyoos yourself and support the cause. These people truly are doing God’s work in the face of a government who does not see the value in these little pockets of diversity.
The storm chased us on our way out; the rain began just as we had pulled off the Crowsnest at a lookout at the Spotted Lake. Miran was pretty tuckered out, and so we drove most of the way back through the winding roads and aging towns in silence. We listened to the soft folk of one of my newfound favourite duos – Mama’s Broke, which made the perfect background music down the rainy mountain roads, the fog and mist billowing down the steep forested cliffs. I felt like I was in the Lord of the Rings.
On my final day, I bid adieu to Miran and the passing farming towns as I made my way out to the coast to achieve my goal of visiting the west coast. I parked on some backroad in Surrey and walked the trail of a park I can no longer remember. I smelled the salt in the air, saw the shells of crabs picked clean by seabirds that glided overhead, and sat on a piece of driftwood long since dried of the brine it once upon a time was carried upon. It was no Vancouver Island but it would fit my bucket list all the same. I sat upon that old log and journalled, reflecting on the journey thus far and wondering how the HELL I was going to get out to the east coast before the winter.
I walked up the rocky shore and enjoyed the quiet misty morning scenery for a little longer before taking my leave. I had a plane to catch. Thus ended my BC excursion. We will meet once again, British Columbia.
Originally, I was also going to include my road trip with friends in this but, well, I am already at 1600 words, and I like to keep these under 2000 so it looks like it will be a TRIPLE feature.
Thank you Miran for letting me stay with you and for being my own personal tourist guide to the far west. I greatly enjoyed our speedrun across the south of BC and one day, we’ll have much, much, more time to give the entirety of BC the time it deserves.
And a huge thank you to my Aunt Bev for taking the time of your day to drop me off and pick me up from the airport :]
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