As we leave the Log House, I remember a couple of things I forgot to recount from yesterday. First, we actually had a good sighting of the Rocky Mountaineer as it meandered its way to Whistler yesterday afternoon.
Secondly, during conversations with our hosts at the Log House it transpired that we were in Bahrain around the same time, they were there for a part of the time that I was there. They worked at the Hilton next to the bank, and I mentioned a number of the Hilton staff that I got to know as a result of the GIB lunch special.
Anyway, back to the journey. We leave Pemberton after buying a few picnic bits and head off for Merritt. Shortly after we pull over and stop at Joffre Lakes park. There are three lakes here, two a good hike away from the car park. We opt for the short trail to the lowest lake. The sight that awaits us when we arrive at the lake is spectacular.
My fellow traveller feels so inspired that a return journey to the car park to pick up her painting material is required. We sit and occupy ourselves. I decide to engage in a little Mindfulness contemplation, not the easiest of things to do when a procession of people arrive, some of them very loud.
Once the sketching has been completed we return to the car and move on. About an hour on up the road we spot an incredible view through some trees, and pull over into a turn off. Here there are a number of cars, and three Harley Davidson motorbikes, with the riders staring at the view. One of them turns to me and remarks “you want mountains, there are mountains”. We talk for a while, the three vary in age but all come from Florida. They have been holidaying in the North West USA and Canada each year for fifteen years, hiring bikes in Montana. This is the first time they have take this route and are awestruck. I take their picture a few times and they move off.
I stand looking, not quite able to take in the view. Across the lake there is the sound of a chainsaw, and three workmen cutting cedars at the waters edge. The lake is filled with floating trees from years gone by. It is Duffy Lake, but the traditional First Nations name is Teq, which means blocked.
We carry on our journey, a winding road, for the most part following the valley floor. The same river is with us for a long time, and I remark (more than once) that it seems to be flowing the wrong way, inland rather than toward the coast. My fellow traveller shrugs and raises eyebrows when she hears this for the third time. We are seeing an increasing number of log lorries now, all carrying straight cedar logs for processing.
Further along the road a road works sign advises us to slow. As we drive on we spot the reason; a section of the hill on which the road is built has collapsed to the valley floor below. I proceed with caution.
We stop in a small town called Lytton for a comfort break, and see a sign for the tourist information centre and museum. We park across the road, and see three ladies on a bench talking. When we approach the building, all three stand up and wait to see which of the buildings we are to enter. We chose the information centre, and collect some information, and advice from the lady where to picnic. We use the facilities, sign the guest book and move on.
About half an hour up the road we stop at one of her suggestions, Goldpan Park on the Thompson River. We determine the best place to park in the shade, and have our lunch. The temperature is nearing 30°C. The water is inviting, but the water is racing past us rolling and eddying all around.
The remainder of the journey today is uneventful. We are noticing a change in the terrain now, from the lush green we had experienced to dry arid hills with fertile valleys, probably irrigated, where farms are more noticeable. We pass through reservations with small farms, and many have collections of old and rusting cars and farm machinery.
At the Nicola River the farms are bigger and we see the first sign that the fruit harvest has started, rumoured to be three weeks early. We do not stop to buy, but vow to do so at a later date. We pass an old church at Nicola, and shortly after we see the turn sign for our stop for the night.
On arrival my fellow traveller checks out the laundry while I sort out the luggage. We then take a short dip in the pool and freshen up ready for dinner at a diner next door. (Lots of Senior Specials on the menu here).