We left Clinton and drove south towards Cache Creek, and then west toward Kamloops. This took us into the Thompson Valley, considered one of western Canada’s three deserts. Other than a few large farms using irrigation, the surrounding land is mostly uninhabited. The arid landscape is dominated by sagebrush and native bunch grasses, though there is, typical of the the west, a great deal of invasive cheatgrass. At the small settlement of Savona, the river turns into a narrow lake. At the far end of that lake is the city of Kamloops.
Kamloops aggressively markets itself as tourist destination. I think its major attraction is probably its dry warm weather. For those of us accustomed to that kind of climate, the charms of the city are limited. There is an old downtown core. It is pleasant, though unremarkable. When we arrived on Saturday morning, there was an farmer’s market taking place. We bought some apricots, a regional specialty. Nearby was a crafts market selling all the usual pottery and jewelry.
The downtown streets were closed off for “Hot Night in the City.” I guess there were going to be musical performances later in the day, but the major draw while we were there was a classic car show. John has a little more appreciation than I do for older cars, so he had me pose next to one he remembered from his childhood. All the dogs were interested in were other dogs and the nearest bowl of water.
We had lunch in a shady spot outside a café. As is often true in smaller cities, it seemed like the people were friendlier. Our server suggested a couple places where we could take the dogs to the river to get wet, but looking at the time we decided to push on.
From Kamloops we drove south through the Nicola region. The Nicola is a high plateau in the rain shadow of the Coast and Lillooet ranges. It is again a pretty empty part of the country. The only major settlement there is the town of Merritt, where we stopped for gas. Merritt calls itself the “Country Music Capital of Canada.” Never having been to Nashville or Branson, I am not sure exactly what a country music capital is supposed to look like, but this one seemed pretty modest.
From Merritt we headed east towards the Okanagan Valley. We climbed rapidly into a more mountainous region. I could tell that this had once been a prime forest production area, but huge areas of the forest were dead. There were signs referring to sections as “Mountain Bark Beetle Salvage Areas.” I began to understand why the forest fires were so bad last summer after a dry winter.
After climbing rapidly for a while, the highway descended equally rapidly towards the Okanagan. This valley is one of the prime agricultural areas of western Canada, and I had heard about Okanagan peaches and wines for years. Our destination for the night was the city of Kalowna. As we drove into the West Kalona, I must admit I was not impressed. All along highway 97 were miles and miles of the worst strip development imaginable. There was one ugly stucco big box store after another, all surrounded by huge parking lots. I began to feel deeply misled by our guidebooks.
Crossing the bridge into Kalona proper, I found it a little more palatable. We are staying tonight and tomorrow night at the Mill Creek Bed and Breakfast. I had corresponded several times with Kris, the owner, in setting this up. That’s often the case when you are traveling with two dogs. She was not there when we arrived, but her mother was, and she suggested we would be more comfortable in the cottage in the back rather than in the main house. This seemed just find with us. There’s a small, gurgling creek right next to the cottage. The dogs immediately stepped in for a drink.
After we had settled in, Kris stopped by to introduce herself. We asked her if there was a dog beach nearby, and she suggested a spot a few miles south of town. As we drove there, we noticed that there were some fairly fancy residences facing the lake, and on the other side of the highway were many wineries. Right across the parking area for the dog beach was this vineyard.
There was nothing particularly special about this dog beach. You could tell that it had probably been one of those beaches that nobody used at all until they formally decided to allow dogs there. The shore was rocky, not sandy, but neither the dogs nor their owners seemed to mind that. Eli rushed down right away and tried to steal some other dog’s tennis ball.
We returned to the bed and breakfast and fed the dogs their dinner. Kris had suggested that we take an evening stroll down towards the lake and into the center of town. We took her advice. For the first couple blocks, the houses were pretty simple, even shabby at times, but the closer we came to the lake the grander they became. Abbott Avenue, right off the lake, next to the City Park, was lined with beautiful old homes.
I am sure that there are many weeks of the year when this waterfront is lightly used, but on this hot summer night it was packed. There were people still on the beach. Older couples were strolling, while young tattooed boys shot by on skateboards. There were many people walking dogs, and we had to keep a sharp eye on our canines. Kris had told us that most places with outdoor patios would be happy to take dogs, but almost all of the restaurants were jammed. We finally located an Indian restaurant a bit off the lake which had an empty patio. We had a pleasant time sitting there, though not a particularly memorable meal.
