Pacific NW 9: Revelstoke

 

Our favourite town on this leg turned out to be Revelstoke. The weather miraculously improved and we arrived there in brilliant afternoon sunshine. The Coast Hillcrest hotel was delightful – very welcoming with comfortable, spacious rooms. Their balconies had a magnificent view across to the jagged profile of the Monashee Mountains at sunset. The staff were very friendly, especially a waitress who had moved there a few years ago from suburban Toronto and loved it – even when the bears got into town and rooted up her vegetable garden. 

We went on several good walks in the area – along the river banks where the Illecillewaet meets our old friend the Columbia, with lots of wildlife to see on the way. It was here that we saw a group of crows in a state of agitation and then in a sudden explosion of motion and feathers, a golden eagle burst out of the tree just yards ahead, to be mobbed by the crows. It flew out over the river then around the trees on the opposite bank for several minutes, perhaps looking for a nest site. On another occasion Kathleen and I heard what sounded very like the howling of wolves from the distant shore. It's possible: wolves are nearby, in very low numbers, and through most of the province. 

We also walked into the Mount Revelstoke NP, which features the Meadows in the Sky parkway – also closed! But we were able to do a good circuit of woodland near the entrance, through moss laden trees and by fast moving mountain streams - a little remnant of rainforest away from the coast - managing to get a bit lost but somehow ending back where we started. 

Revelstoke seems like a real town, not dominated by tourism, and we found yet another fantastic and extremely popular coffee shop/bakery. The staff were efficient and there was a vast and scrmptious range of baked goods and dishes and coffees. We also saw the weekly farmers and craft market, a lively meeting place for locals, and bought a few things there (homemade jams and candles).

Pacific NW 8 - emerald lake

Next, to Golden, where I had booked a rather spooky ski resort hotel, way up on the mountain miles from the town. When we arrived, there were no staff there, just written instructions on how to find the rooms. Still, we were able to make some good meals as one of the units we were in had a full kitchen. Poor Gail was exiled to the other block which seemed to be completely empty otherwise, except for an occasionally seen odd jobs man (who seemed frindly enough). Golden doesn't have a lot to recommend it: a very small historic area beside the railway, and a rather wonderful, but modern, covered bridge. But we did at least find (another) very good cafe, with good coffee and cakes, which we visited several times. Long live these independent cafes – there always seems to be one in each town – and let's hope the dead hand of Starbucks never makes it to places like this. 
From Golden we entered Yoho National Park, where the jewel is Emerald Lake. A glorious place, with tree lined shores and completely surrounded by mountains. We walked all around the lake and after a short distance you get away from the tourist buzz at the lodge into complete tranquillity, the views from every angle magnificent. We also visited the pretty little town of Field, in the centre of the park. It seemed almost deserted, as we waited for the freight train to pass at a level crossing, several kilometres of double stacked containers, passing slowly by. 
You never seem to wait long before you hear the evocative sounds of an American train whistle or the clanging crossing bells. This is a feature it seems of every Rockies valley, parlt because in many cases the railways came before the settlements. Field seems to have been a watering stop for Rockies trains crossing between Calgary and the west, and some of the original houses were built out of box cars. One still survives there. (We later met the rather handsome Fire Chief for Field, at Calgary airport. The permanent population is about 200 and you have to have a reason to go and live there as it's heavily protected by the national park management. He seemed very content with his life there.)

From Golden we visited Glacier National Park, but the blue hole had deserted us, the mists coming in and hiding the mountains almost completely and trails were all closed. In fact, the visitor centre was still stacked up with big snowdrifts.

Pacific NW 7 - bear country

 

Next stop Invermere, travelling north up the wide valley between the Rockies and the Purcell range. We passed Columbia Lake, the source of the great river that starts flowing north here, then abruptly turns south through the next break between mountain ranges, into the US then west to the gorge we encountered before and then to the ocean at Astoria. The Copper Point Resort, where we stayed, was new, with spacious rooms and a view to the mountains. The town itself is rather spread out and more geared to winter sports. We drove high above the lake that it overlooks, Windermere Lake, on the Westside Road. Next day, we drove up ito the Rockies range, through a spa town, Radium Hot Springs, into Kootenay National Park, a less well known adjunct to Banff NP, which we would visit later. Passing up through the narrow gorge of the Sinclair Pass we saw several vehicles stopped on the road. Suddenly, Kathleen piped up: “It's a bear! It's a bear!” There, right by the highway, was a black bear, ambling along and stopping here and there to nibble the vegetation. It seemed to be completely uninterested in the vehicles. The dandelions had its attention entirely. We found out later that these are an important part of the bears' diet at this time of year, when they flower in huge numbers in cleared areas like these verges. We thought we were extremely lucky to see this, so close up, but on the way back we not only saw another black bear, but also a mother grizzly and her cub, both within metres of the road. The cub reared up, curious at the vehicles, but the mother seemed more into chewing the flowers. A real privilege for us to see this so close up and I got some wonderful photos. Also at the park entrance we saw a herd of mountain goats, grazing or just lolling about on impossible narrow ledges of the gorge. Earlier, in the park, we fond that almost all the trails were closed. We found out why when we did walk up one of them for several miles into the woods, at Kootenay Crossing. Every few metres there was a fallen tree, which we had to go variously over, under, or round, the result of winter storms, and we thought in the end that this was probably meant to be closed too, but they had not put up a sign. Later, we read about the bears and what to do if you meet one. It seems they like to use the man made trails and so that was a very real possibility: but we probably made so much noise blundering along 'the obstacle course' as we came to know it, that they probably kept well clear. But still, it made us a little more wary about future walks in the woods.

Pacific NW 6 - into Canada

 

 

Calgary. This must have been boom city after the railway arrived in the 1890s. The centre is full of substantial turn of the century banks and stores, many of fine design. It was strange to be in a city after all the quiet and small towns and empty countryside. The blue hole seemed to have caught up with us, with scorching hot weather for our stay. Just a few hundred miles north there were major forest fires, as the spring rains had failed to arrive and temperatures soared way above normal. It's a prosperous city but with many green spaces. We walked along the river through a series of linear parks, and to a 'historic' district of mostly 1910s/20s houses, then past the stadium of the Calgary stampede.

Gail joined us for this second leg of the trip. We stayed at the Fairmont, one of the original Canadian Pacific hotels built along the line to encourage tourism in the 1890s. It has grand public spaces and the rooms are recently refurbished but retaining an old school grand hotel feel. Some good restaurants too, including a modern Indian restaurant on the main drag, complete with cocktails.

But we were glad to get off into the wild again, on a great loop through the Canadian Rockies (we travelled around 2900km in all). Setting out through Calgary's sprawling modern gated suburbs and then south through an old mining area Crowsnest Pass. This valley is on such a huge scale that the ravages of the old mine workings don't make much of an impact. The towns are dying, although we managed to find an excellent ice cream shop. So to Fernie for one night.

This is a nice little town with pleasant tree-lined walks on levees beside the river – a fast mountain river with churning clear waters. After walking a while we found a very pleasant pub with a terrace to enjoy the late afternoon sun – so pleasant we ended up staying to eat there.

Pacific NW pictures

A lot more pictures here:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/keithuk/albums/72157667483795391

Pacific NW 5 - Mount Rainier

 

We continued towards our last destination in the US, eastwards along the Columbia, passing the eccentric mansion and model Stonehenge at Maryhill, then striking north through more open farming country, with few spread out communities. Then it was the industrial scale fruit growing region around Yakima, before turning back east into the mountains following a deep gorge with its wild, rapidly descending torrent to the continental divide at White Pass, and then down into Mount Rainier National Park, where we arrived at the remote settlement of Packwood. We had booked into a classic old-school motel (though dressed up with mock castellated towers) a few miles out of town, with a little stream gurgling away and a definite out of season feel. In fact we found that the nearest entrance to the park proper was closed, and the pass we had come over was not long opened. The village was tiny, but with a really good coffee shop/bakery, and a rough and ready pub with guys in stetsons and plaid shirts and down home waitresses. And hearty food at bargain prices. Next day we found our way into the central part of the park from the western entrance. An unpromising day, with lowering grey clouds, and as we drove deeper into the forest we were soon enveloped. A waterfall on the route was almost lost in the grey drizzly mist – but very atmospheric. No sign of Mount Rainier, and we were rather discouraged from continuing, but we carried on and suddenly were in clear air above the cloud layer. We had arrived in Paradise – no really! It's the name of the park inn and visitor centre – which were only just being dug out from 12 foot snow drifts. Below us cloud banks filled the valleys, and above the broad flanks of the mountain, black rock and sparkling white snow, against a deep blue sky. We could see how the place got its name.

So that was the end of the first leg of our trip: a spectacular finale. Next day we were off to the airport for the short flight to Calgary.

Pacific NW 4 - wine and waterfalls

 

To wine country, and McMinville (Mac to its residents) at one end of the Willamette Valley, a major part of Oregon's rapidly expanding wine industry. The town has a charming commercial area, 2nd Street, tree lined and dappled in the afternoon sun, when we arrived. There was a lot happening at the time of our visit: Mom and Pop Weekend at the local university, Prom night at the high school, and on the Saturday it was Lemonade Day, when all the local kids set up their homemade refreshment stalls. Small town America at its most endearing. We stayed outside town at Youngberg Hill, set way up on a bluff with wide views across the valley. This is a 6 room B&B cum winery, and we were treated on arrival to a wine tasting of their products, which are mostly Pinot noir and Sauvignon blanc. The house itself is magnificent, modern but in traditional style with wide verandas and lots of public rooms. We took the Jura suite with its 180 degree panorama across vineyards to distant hills, its vast bathroom and of course a fireplace. Kathleen's room was round the back, but compensated by a lovely sunrise.

Perhaps the highlight was the birth of a calf to the ornamental cattle on the property. We saw it just 10 minutes after birth, all legs, and unsteadily on its feet, already finding its way to its mother's milk. McMinville also has a surprisingly interesting, and huge, aircraft and space museum, built up around Howard Hughes' 'spruce goose', the world's largest airplane, that only flew once.

Next, by vertiginous forest roads (my acrophobic companions not best pleased by my navigation) close to the Paramount-style white cap of Mount Hood, to the town of Hood River and our second encounter with the Columbia River. Here it forces its way as a gorge through the coastal mountain range. We travelled up the gorge to the Horsetail and Wahkeena Falls, beautiful and in spate at this time of year, and later along the north canyon rim. Hood River itself is split by major east-west highway and railroad, which give constant traffic noise. I has a small historic centre with substantial early 20^th century buildings, and the city authorities are trying hard to develop the tourist potential of the river front. We had dinner amongst the huge vessels of the Pfriem Family Brewery there – good IPA and nice pub food. The weather continued to be spectacular, with scorching sun in the high 20s C.

Pacific NW 3: Oregon coast

 

We stayed for 2 nights at the Inn at Cannon Beach, and enjoyed long coastal walks. Though we seemed to have brought Sequim's blue hole along the trip with us so far, the rain we had been expecting finally came in on the second day, but even then only intermittently. This coast is punctuated by dark sea stacks of volcanic rock, and the beach here is dominated by Haystack Rock, where the locals were celebrating the annual return of puffins that breed here.

Oregon has a strange idea about claims to fame. While in WA we saw the world's biggest Sitka spruce, and many other such giants, whereas Oregon boasts the world's shortest river, the world's smallest harbour, and the world's shortest commissioned lighthouse (superseded after 43 months, but still very picturesque).

We had some excellent long walks along the beach over the next two days.

But we were saving the best beaches for later. Continuing south, we stopped off at Depoe Bay, a lively little tourist town where the waves were getting fiercer, slamming into the rocks along the promenade with great plumes of seawater shooting up and sometimes over the visitors. 
Our destination was Yachats (pron. ya-HOTS) where we had booked a longer stay, 5 nights at the Overleaf Resort: a house there, to be precise, just metres from the beach, with a huge double height living room with fireplace, and comfortable ensuite bedrooms. Fully equipped, so we ended up cooking in most nights, managing to construct some very memorable meals, including casseroles, lamb shanks slow baked in wine, and frittata. Yachats is a laid back little place, not entirely given over to holiday lets and weekend homes. It has some friendly local shops and an independent brew pub, and we did eat out one night at Heidi's Italian restaurant, which was charming and very authentic, with home made ravioli. We had a pleasant chat with an amateur marine historian who was touring the coast, giving talks to US coastguard staff. 
 
Most of the time we just walked, up to 9 miles a day on the endless empty beaches. Mostly sunny but cool, and with the constant roar of ocean waves, this was ideal for walking and watching local bird life. Behind the beach, the trees are contorted by the wind into tight swept back shapes, like a Japanese water colour, interspersed with grey Cape style houses – from the most shambolic shacks to huge mansions of Seattle software billionaires – but all bowing to the strength of nature, recessive among the pines. We literally felt the power when a freak wave on the incoming tide, swept right up to our 'unmentionables' as Kathleen put it, forcing us to scramble onto the front lawn of a motel, soaked and freezing. Apparently these 'sneaker waves' are well known on this coast.

We made some short trips too. To Cape Perpetua, one of the highest capes on the coast, with a 70 mile view from north to south. Next, to a working lighthouse at Heceta Head, whitewashed and pristine, with an elegant keeper's cottage nearby. Beside it, the coast road shoots over a huge viaduct then plunges into a tunnel under the next headland. Finally, into the woods, where we drove on difficult forest tracks for miles through yet more giant firs and spruces, way up over a watershed and into the clouds, where we got a real sense of the temperate rainforest. The hillside dropped away from the track in deep gorges with fast running streams, and not a single person to be seen.

A final long barefoot walk on the beach and it was time to leave the coast and head inland.

Pacific NW 2: Olympic national park

So we had to say goodbye to the Sunset Marine Resort and the friendly ladies that own and run it, and continue our trip along the north coast. We passed Crescent Lake, its long dark waters utterly still and mirror like; via blink and you'll miss it Forks; eventually to Lake Quinault (pron. kwinolt) deep into the Olympic temperate rainforest. The Lodge here, where we stayed, is part of that early tradition of national park accommodation, solid and dependable, built in just a couple of months in the 1920s when this area must have seemed very remote. It sits above a lawn reaching down to the lake, and surrounded by huge Douglas firs and Sitka spruces, with a view to the forests beyond. The rooms have been discreetly modernised to retain the feeling that early visitors would have experienced - no TVs or fridges, but now with en suites and wifi. The main lobby with its log fire and massive chimney, and decorated dark wooden structure, is very comfortable, and the restaurant was surprisingly good, if expensive. 

Next day we walked the long carefully maintained trails through the forest, across the valley's steep sided flanks. The forest is extraordinary. Every tree is covered with moss and cascading air plants and ferns. Trees brought down by storms lie chaotically, with new growth sprouting from them as they slowly rot into the ground. Everywhere there is running water, creeks and rapids and waterfalls. A primeval feel, enhanced by exotic bird calls and distant rustlings. Later we drove right around the lake, passing remote farms in cleared areas along unmetalled roads. On the north side of the lake we visited another well marked trail through one of the wildest rainforest areas, and visited an abandoned farm that is slowly being restored, complete with rusting ancient farm implements and even an old truck.

Next day, we travelled on to Oregon, passing quickly through the poorer coastal towns of south coastal Washington, stopping briefly at Astoria for a look at the still thriving fishing port and the huge panorama from the park at the top of the town: of the coast and the Columbia River, destined to become a theme of our overall trip.