As I said, you can never have too many hot Springs, so on our way back to Calgary we stopped off at Whiteswan (also known as Lussier) hot Springs, quite a ways up a Mountain. Rylan was very secretive about them, so I wasn't quite expecting natural hot Spring pools located next to a cold running River surrounded by Mountains. Or the overwhelming sulphurous smell of rotten eggs.
Our penultimate stop on our route home involved a walk beside a bright blue River running through a canyon that grew deeper and deeper the closer we got to the falls at the top.
Finally, we stopped in Banff so that I could stock up on cheesy Canadian t-shirts. Banff really is a very touristy place - I'm not entirely sure why people visit the Rocky Mountains only to stay in Banff. Soon, it was time to leave the Mountains altogether and return to Calgary.
Back at the Alston's, we feasted on spicy goat curry, deer sausage, and our newly-acquired ice wine served in little chocolate cups. We ended my trip as we'd started, with a freak thunderstorm and a Tim Minchin DVD in the home cinema.
We eventually found the internment camp, which was interesting, particularly since I had studied the novels of Joy Kogawa, a Japanese Canadian interned during the war. We then headed back to New Denver's mainstreet for lunch - it was fun seeing how everybody seemed to know each other in such a small town!
We made it to our second B&B at a more reasonable time than the night before, and the welcoming proprietors recommended us some places to eat. We ended up at the Old Bauernhaus Restaurant, a log barn moved from Germany to Kimberley, serving traditional German food. Naturally, I had schnitzel and strudel.
Our room at the West Winds B&B was gorgeous, with a unique patchwork quilt covered in Canadian animals, from bears to moose. It took a lot of willpower not to smuggle it out of there in my bag the following morning.
For some reason, we ended up taking a route that was twice as long as the one originally planned...although, admittedly, it was a beautiful route. We drove very close to the Canadian/USA border, experiencing ranches and frontier-style towns, complete with clapboard houses and saloons. We spotted a sign with the brilliant message, "Welcome to the U.S.Eh!" It's nice to know Canadians can make fun of themselves, not to mention their relations with the USA!
During the entire trip I'd been mentioning that I wished I had a cowboy hat (particularly for our epic horseback trek up a Mountain), but I wasn't expecting Rylan to pull up at a ranch selling riding gear and ask to see their selection of cowboy hats..! Below: the cowboy hat plus other cheesy Canadian attire...
We got near to Kaslo much later than we'd anticipated but, because of the route we'd taken, we came across Ainsworth Hot Springs and decided to stop for some relaxation (you can never have too many hot springs!) and dinner. The hot springs themselves are reached by swimming inside a cave: it's ridiculously hot and stuffy inside, but there's also an icy cold plunge pool and an outdoor pool for some relief from the heat! Ainsworth Hot Springs are attached to a hotel, so we decided to eat in the hotel's restaurant. I had a fantastic creme brulee.
We arrived at our B&B around 10pm, the owners seeming a bit confused as to why we'd taken so long. Our B&B was a great place, remote, hand-built in wood and with only one guest room.
We made it to Ellison and, after putting up the tent, we spent the afternoon and early evening at the beach.
Rylan told me about a rock that you could jump off into the lake, so we decided to give it a go. In the dark. Of course, we scouted out the route to The Rock beforehand, spotting a chipmunk behaving in a very odd way, jumping up and down, spinning and rolling around. Suspecting some form of chipmunk rabies, we made a hasty exit.
As darkness fell, we made our way back to The Rock with the aid of torches and, after making Rylan go first to prove that I wasn't, as I suspected, at risk of death, and then dithering for at least another 10 minutes, I jumped.
I'm still alive. I think.
On the way home, our day became a little less relaxing when Rylan casually drove into a ditch. Stuck, we managed to summon the owner of the driveway we'd got stuck on. He wasn't impressed: he'd just had his asphalt done. He wasn't able to help us as his tow cable was in his other truck; however, a family in a 4x4 took pity on us and pulled over, then generously offered to go home, pick up their tow rope, and come back. We felt absolutely terrible when, on their return, the weight of our truck snapped both of their ropes. Just as we were beginning to despair, a man across the road appeared at his door and offered us a chain. This was also a spectacular act of kindness considering that he was attached to a drip at the time. Luckily, the chain was enough to pull our truck out of the ditch, although the brand new asphalt hadn't fared too well. In a final act of kindness, the owner of the driveway, who had originally warned us that we'd have to pay for any damage to his new asphalt, told us not to worry about it after all.
Aren't Canadians nice, eh?
Our evening was much more relaxing: we lay by the pool in the garden overlooking Okanagan lake and the valley; we barbecued Chicken; we witnessed a beautiful sunset and lazed in the hottub. Perfect!
We then headed out on our 7 to 8 hour ride up a mountain to a lake and back again. At this point I discovered that, when Rylan originally booked our trek, even the guides themselves had tried to persuade him to opt for the 5 hour ride instead. He insisted. They gave in. I began to think this might be a bad idea.
Things were fine until lunch time. The horses were very familiar with the steep, uphill trail: all we had to do was lean forwards and leave the work to them. My horse, Diamond, preferred to canter up the steeper parts of the trail, which meant I spent most of the uphill stretch holding on for dear life.
We stopped for lunch at the summit, with a brown paper bag packed lunch and lovely views of the surrounding mountains. We then pressed on for our next stop: the lake. The thing was, our guides hadn't used this trail for a while (clearly, other visitors were more easily discouraged from booking the 8 hour ride than we were) so we ended up hacking our way through the forest. Soon, we were lost. Very, very lost. We had to dismount and lead our horses through the increasingly thick and wild undergrowth in the stifling heat. It was only by chance that, after a lot of false leads, we stumbled upon our original trail and were able to retrace our steps back to the main trail.
We eventually made it to the lake, which was beautiful, and we relaxed for a while before beginning the return journey. By this point, my battered legs were in all kinds of agony and my horse had decided it was going to try to consume every blade of grass in sight. This meant a battle of wills between me and Diamond - one that Diamond usually won.
The downhill journey was slightly terrifying, particularly considering Diamond's tendency to stumble even on flat ground. I spent the steep downhill ride leaning so far back in my saddle I was practically lying down.
Safely back at the ranch, we hobbled to the verandah of the ranch and drank the most delicious home-made iced tea with freshly-baked cookies.
When we'd recovered a little, we drove to Rylan's aunt Linden's house, our base for two nights. We arrived late evening.
However, the relaxation didn't last as long as I'd hoped...before I knew it I was in the lake, at the end of a rope attached to the boat, humiliating myself on (or mostly off) a wakeboard. Followed by a battering on the inflatable tube as Jan tried his hardest to throw us off, driving into the wake of other passing boats.
Finished the evening with an incredible dinner from Lossie as we talked about Peru, Lossie's home country.
As if the uphill trek wasn't painful enough, on the way down I lost my footing and tumbled, head over heels, a good ten feet down the trail. Luckily, my legs took most of the impact...I still have the cuts and bruises to show for it.
After the hike, we headed to the town of Revelstoke where we limped around looking for jeans for our horseriding adventure two days away. We were intrigued by a restaurant advertising German-Indian cuisine, so we stopped in for deep-fried bratwurst wonton, korma and rose-flavoured milkshakes.
Another evening at the hot springs burned and then eased my Mountain-related injuries.
We started off at the Giant Cedars Boardwalk, which was quite mystical and awe-inspiring. Next, Skunk Cabbage Boardwalk, where we saw recent evidence of bears...but sadly (or luckily, depending on how you look at it) no bears themselves.
Next, we took a chance on Meadows in the Sky, which involved a long, winding drive up a Mountain and turned out to be one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to. Despite being stalked for the first fifteen minutes of the walk by a horse fly that took a shine to (and a bite out of) my head, we made it to the summit for some absolutely stunning views of snow-capped peaks and bright blue rivers. Our Mountaintop meadow itself was also beautiful, covered in a carpet of brightly coloured wild flowers. The experience is impossible to describe or replicate through photos.
We finished off the day with the Loop Brook trail, which followed the route of an old railway line through the Forest. We accidentally started at the end of the trail instead of the start, managing to get ourselves lost for a while.
Back at the campsite, we cooked fajitas with rice-a-roni (flavoured instant rice, slightly crunchy, my new favourite lazy food) and made the most of the hot springs again.
We were eased into rafting on the calm upper canyon, and then stopped for a barbeque lunch. We then headed to the middle canyon, which flowed slightly faster with several runs of Class 3 and 4 white water along the way. During another break, we mentally prepared ourselves for the lower canyon, a stretch of mostly Class 4 rapids. It was hard work, and we had several man-overboards, but the highlight was a stretch of rapids that our guide assured us was "totally safe" for us to jump out of the raft and swim through. The only warning: "oh, by the way, your head will definitely be underwater...just ride with it".
After a freezing cold yellow schoolbus ride back to base in Golden, we headed to our campground at Canyon Hot Springs, between Glacier and Mount Revelstoke National Parks. We recovered from rafting with a visit to the hot springs, and then cooked sausages on skewers over the campfire.