The Upper Sunshine Coast can also have me anytime

Although the lower Sunshine Coast has plenty of  opportunities for hippiedom and outdoor adventure, it’s known for the resorts, fine restaurants, galleries, and boutiques that cater to West Van visitors. The upper Sunshine Coast is a bit different. Jervis Inlet separates the lower Sunshine Coast from the upper, rendering the upper Sunshine Coast more isolated and therefore more rugged, more historic, and more conducive to hardcore adventure. Those willing to go the extra mile and catch another ferry can expect secluded trails, canoe routes, islands, waterfalls, and marine parks in return. Oh, and views of wide open ocean against snow-crested mountains.

I don’t know about you, but there’s something about that kind of scenery that makes me weak at the knees.

Views from the ferry between Earl's Cove and Saltry Bay

My evening walk on the beach just south of Powell River, with a friendly doggy for company.

Among the many reasons why I want to go back to the upper Sunshine Coast is the Sunshine Coast Trail. The trail runs from just north of Lund to Saltry Bay, about 180 km in total. Most hikers choose to tackle the trail in sections, although the brave ones do the whole thing on a multi-day excursion.

While I was visiting the upper Sunshine Coast, I hiked a couple short pieces of the Sunshine Coast Trail with the trail-cutter himself. Eagle (yes, that’s his name!) is nothing short of a legend where he comes from. He’s been a local for decades, knows just about everyone north of Jervis Inlet, and is famed for being the brains–and hands–behind the trail. When I asked him why he decided to cut the trail, he told me that his concern for the shrinking old growth forests drove him to do it. He figured that no one would share his concern unless they could see the old growth first hand. So, without any training or experience, he and a small team started cutting trail.

Eagle and my host Derek

Eagle knows the trail intimately (as you can imagine), so he showed me some of the highlights.

Props to Derek for helping me out with this shot.

Neat thing about the Sunshine Coast Trail: Eagle and his protégés recently built shelters at certain points along the trail for hikers to use.

I'd take that over a rain-drenched tent any day

Another neat thing: the views of Savary Island from this part of the trail are amazing. When I hiked up with Eagle and Derek, Eagle pulled a bottle of red out of his bag so we could all enjoy the view with vino in hand. Smart man.

Life's rough.

And for the record, Savary Island is pretty much the closest you’ll get to tropical while staying in Canada. Hang out on the white-sand beaches or swim in the warm waters and you’ll be convinced you’re in Fiji.

Okay, upper Sunshine Coast, you’ve done it. I’m coming back as soon as I can!

The Sunshine Coast can have me anytime

One of the many things I loved about living on Bowen Island was watching the ferries come and go. Being a prairie person by origin, I have always found ferry transportation thrilling (don’t even get me started on that SeaBus in North Vancouver!). On Bowen, I got to take the ferry all the time, and I could also look out from my window and see the small Bowen ferry glide back and forth between Snug Cove and Horseshoe Bay every half-hour, or the ferry to Nanaimo head southwest to Duke Point a few times a day. I could also see another ferry, which locals informed me was the “Langdale ferry,”  frequently head out in the opposite direction.

What or where Langdale was, I had no idea. During my trip to the Sunshine Coast this spring, I got to find out.

As it turns out, the Langdale ferry takes you to the mysterious body of land on the other side of Howe Sound. The ferry lands in the lower Sunshine Coast, where you can access the communities of Gibsons, Roberts Creek, Halfmoon Bay, Sechelt, and Egmont (to name a few). Once you travel north to Earl’s Cove, you have to board yet another ferry to get to the upper Sunshine Coast, where you’ll find Powell River, Lund, and Desolation Sound. There’s also a ferry from Comox that will take you to Powell River. Although the Sunshine Coast is only a stone’s throw away from both Vancouver and Vancouver Island, the labyrinth of surrounding islands and inlets keeps it isolated. As one local told me while I was there, the ferries are the Sunshine Coast’s lifeline.

On the behalf of all Sunshine Coast-ers, I’d like to set one thing straight: just because you take a ferry to get there does NOT mean the Sunshine Coast is an island. There’s nothing locals hate more than hearing “Once I get back to the mainland…” The Sunshine Coast is the mainland–it’s just that Howe Sound waters stand between the Sunshine Coast and Vancouver, making the ferry the fastest and easiest way to get there.

That said, you’d be forgiven for making the mistake. People on the Sunshine emit the kind of birkenstock-wearing, old-growth-loving, NDP-voting, organic-farming vibes that I’ve only ever seen on islands like Saltspring. It’s awesome.

And it’s probably because they live in one of the most beautiful places in the world and they have no choice but to chill out and love the bejesus out of life. Perhaps my photos will give you some indication of what I’m talking about.

To anyone on the Sunshine Coast: offer me a job, and I’ll be there in a second.

I absolutely adored my time at the Sechelt Inlet Bed and Breakfast. Reasons why include but certainly aren’t limited to the hot tub with views of the inlet.

Views from my room at the Sechelt Inlet Bed and Breakfast

I also visited Rockwater Resort, which is well known for offering epic views and great storm watching opportunities to their guests.

I was told that if I missed the ferry to Saltry Bay, I would get to stay in a suite like this at Rockwater Resort. Sadly, the ferries were running on time that day.

Views from my water taxi journey in Pender Harbour

The local wildlife.

Jebediah Island wants me to go camping there. I can just tell.

Just some epic views on my hike to the Skookumchuks. No big deal.

The Skookumchuks near Egmont have the most dramatic display of tidal change in the world!

Oh, remember that sturgeon I was raving about? That was at the Painted Boat Resort, which is on the lower Sunshine Coast too. More reasons to go back.

Stay tuned for part two, which will feature my photos of the upper Sunshine Coast.

How I ate my way through the lower mainland

Well, it’s 10:30 on a Monday evening and I’m hungry.

No surprises there, really. I’m often hungry. I’m trying to satiate myself on stale rice crackers—you know, the ones that get nice and chewy from being left in the back of the cupboard to absorb the humidity—but it’s not working so well. You see, I made the mistake of going through my photos of all the memorable meals I had on my journeys through the lower mainland. So now there’s a nice little puddle of drool on my laptop that’s growing larger as I flip through my photos of merangues, banana splits, pan-fried sturgeon and other goodies.

So rather than write about one place, I’m just going to dedicate this blog post to a few particularly good meals I had. It’ll give me an excuse to sit here and reminisce about the days when people went out of their way to feed me unreasonable amounts of fancy food.

When I was in Pender Harbour on the Sunshine Coast, I paid a visit to the Painted Boat Resort. After a short tour of the resort and facilities, the resort manager told me she would take me to lunch at the resort’s restaurant. I didn’t think too much of it until we got to the restaurant and I realized that we were the only two people dining there. It was shoulder season and the restaurant only opened on weekends, but the head chef and manager made an exception and opened the restaurant especially for me.

Ballin’. Outta. Control.

It was here that I had my first taste of sturgeon, which is a prehistoric fish that lives in the Fraser River. It’s an endangered species that’s catch-and-release only, but there’s an ethical, sustainable sturgeon farm near Sechelt on the Sunshine Coast. The folks at the Painted Boat were eager to show it off…and with good reason. Yummmmm.

http://www.paintedboat.com/the-restaurant.php

Salt crusted sturgeon on top of edemame beans, shittake mushrooms, carrots, parsnips, and broth.

Vanilla custard of some sort with a meringue and raspberry coulis

One time I was in Richmond and my host insisted on treating me to authentic Chinese Dim Sum for lunch. I’d never had Dim Sum before, so I told her to go ahead and order for the two of us. We ended up with more food than either of us could handle. I ate a stupid amount of Chinese food that afternoon. My poor stomach had no idea what hit it, but it was totally worth it.

Dim sum yum!

Then there was the Big Sky Golf Course. They were told to treat me to drinks and maybe an appetizer before I headed to the nearbly Black Squirrel Golf Course for dinner. But they were eager to outdo the competition, so they also served me a banana split dessert that looks like Mount Currie.

http://www.bigskygolf.com/default.asp?mode=webpage&id=318 

The chocolate Mt Currie mountain kind of lost its peak, but trust me, it was pretty convincing.

This was before I even touched my main course.

OH! And there was the Heritage Grill in New Westminster that also did a number on me with their stuffed mushrooms.

http://www.theheritagegrill.com/

As you can see, I didn't enjoy my meal at all.

Of course, I could never forget the lobster brie grilled cheese sandwich (with gluten-free bread!) I had at Big Feast in Maple Ridge. My host claims that this is one of the best restaurants in the lower mainland. After that sandwich, it was hard to disagree.

http://www.bigfeast.ca/aboutthechef.htm

*drool*

And just for the record, this duck dish was delish. Thank you, Tap Restaurant in Surrey!

http://www.taprestaurant.ca/

*growl*

That was the sound of my stomach. Good thing Thanksgiving is next weekend!

Next blog will probably be about all the hikes I did, just so you all don’t get the wrong idea.

Tales of tackiness in the Fraser Canyon

I was contemplating not writing about the rest of my trip down the Fraser Canyon. Truth be told, rather than stopping to go for hikes and photo-ops along riverbanks and lookouts, I went to all the most terribly tacky tourist traps. That was my job, you see.

From Lillooet, little car and I drove about 40 minutes to Lytton. Lytton itself isn’t too tacky, actually. Its ex-gold rush town feel is pretty authentic. And I developed a huge appreciation for Lytton because it was—get this—hot. Lytton is apparently Canada’s hot spot and has more days of sunshine per year than any other town (although the folks in Lillooet would probably tell you differently). For me, this meant sweet relief from the seemingly endless days of North Shore drizzle.

Lytton is also apparently the rafting capital of Canada, so naturally I had to visit Kumsheen Rafting Resort while I was there.

The Kumsheen Rafting Resort and its teepees

If you’re wondering, yes, there is a strong First Nations community in Lytton. No, they do not live in teepees (and never did…teepees were more of a prairie thing, you see).

But you can sleep in a teepee if you stay at the resort!

Roughin it.

Good thing it never rains in Lytton.

You can also go white water rafting, which looks like a total riot. I didn’t have time for such shenanigans though…I had a date with Hell’s Gate.

(Sorry. Couldn’t resist.)

Okay, Hell’s Gate is hilarious and great. You get to dangle over the narrowest and fastest-moving part of the Fraser River in a bright red air tram. Why would anyone do such a hot, stuffy, superficially dangerous thing, you ask? Here’s the catch: there’s gold panning, a museum about salmon, and overpriced fudge on the other side.

Awesome.

I was at Hell's Gate on a quiet day, but usually that balcony is full of people with unreasonably large cameras.

Not a gondola--an air tram. Sorry about the crappy quality of these shots...I'm pretty sure the tackiness of the place was rubbing off on my photo-taking abilities.

Next stop was the Alexandra Bridge just north of Hope. There was no fudge or Canada flag keychains for sale at Alexandra Bridge, just an old bridge in a provincial park. Once you get past the parking lot full of campervans, motorhomes, and senior citizens at picnic tables eating cheese whizz sandwiches, it’s really a lovely spot.

Oh, what the heck.

I have lots of photos from that day in Lillooet. Here are some more, just for kicks.

The thriving metropolis of Lillooet

Ye olde Lillooet bridge

The Lillooet golf course, complete with roaming sheep

Of little car and Lillooet

Okay, so the car I bought to do all this road-tripping is a 1991 Hyundai Coupe. It’s white. I bought it for $600. It sometimes stalls in the morning when it’s cold or raining. It put-puts a bit when you’re at a stoplight.

I call it “little car,” and I like it a lot.

I think it likes me too. It likes driving fast on straight highways (but not too fast…it starts to shudder past 120km/h, you see) and fitting into small parking spaces. But it strongly dislikes hills.

When I left Pemberton to drive to Lillooet, I was told to budget about 40 minutes travel time.  After 2 hours of some of the steepest, most windy mountain driving I have ever experienced, I started to wonder if little car and I would ever make it.  With every turn, there seemed to be a hill bigger and steeper than the last, and little car was losing steam. Our average speed dropped to about 30km/h, and the constant hairpin turns made me wonder if it was physically possible to drive any faster and not hurtle over a cliff.

Eventually, little car and I made it to Lillooet. I was at least an hour late for my meeting, so when I met my contact, I said, “I’m so sorry I’m late! Someone told me the drive only took 40 minutes!”

“That was me,” said my contact.  “How long did it take you?”

“About two hours.”

“Two hours! How slow were you driving?!”

I wish I could tell you that was the first time I’ve heard that question, but that’d be a lie. Perhaps I shouldn’t blame little car for disliking those hills.

Anyway, here are some photos!

Seton Lake, a glacial lake that's surrounded by desert. Weird--but also awesome.

While I was in Lillooet, I got to go for a helicopter ride. You can see the shadow of the helicopter in the trees.

Red rock, taken from the helicopter. I hiked up there later in the evening.

Thanks, Merrells, for getting me to the top!

How I spent most of my time in Lillooet

How to fast-forward ten years by driving for 40 minutes

Driving from Whistler to Pemberton is a bit like going from your 20s to your 30s. If that sounds a bit rich coming from someone my age, allow me to explain. Whistler is buzzing with good-looking twenty-somethings with extra piercings, scruffy facial hair, and floppy neon ski-gear. Young people flood the Village at all hours of the day and night, flashing grins other while side-stepping the perpetually lost tourists (unless, of course, you happen to be a young lost female tourist with a couple of extra piercings yourself…but we won’t get into that). There are young people everywhere; it’s a buffet of eye-candy.Pemberton is only about 40 minutes up the road from Whistler, but for me, the difference between Whistler and Pemberton was like the difference between my present and my future.  In Whistler I was surrounded by people much like myself: young, energetic, outdoorsy types who want nothing more than to seize youth and avoid responsibility. In Pemberton, I found myself among couples who have just settled down to buy their first home and start a family.It’s as though when the drunken hook-ups of Whistler actually turned into something, they went to Pemberton. This quiet, scenic valley town is filled with starry-eyed new mothers and fathers holding a child in one hand and a dog leash in the other. They’re usually ex-ski bums or farmers who love the outdoors but left their partying ways behind in Whistler. I imagine that Pemberton looks a bit like my life will in ten years.

And it actually looks good. Pemberton folks are awesomely friendly and even though they’re well past their partying heyday, they still know how to show you a good time. Within six hours of being in Pemberton, I went biking, horseback riding, gliding, hiking, and ate at not one, but two golf courses in one evening. Here’s some photographic evidence of what I experienced.

Patio at the golf course where I ate with reasonably epic views.

View from the glider. Not bad, eh?

Horseback riding at Pemberton Stables

There are little guys like this running around everywhere in Pemberton.