Like yesterday, we had a big breakfast by Mill Creek before we left Kelowna. Kris Stewart, our innkeeper shown below, made waffles as well as her cinnamon bread. We weren’t even tempted to eat lunch after that feast. This morning we were joined by an older couple from Cranbrook, a small city in the far south of the province. The woman, probably in her late sixties or early seventies, was traveling around on her motorcycle. He husband, who appeared a few years older, driven up to spend the evening with her on her travels.
Kelowna sprawls, and it took a few minutes before we had left the last convenience store and gas station in the rear view mirror. The land was fairly flat for a while as we traveled the eastern edge of the Okanagan highland. But the road began to climb gently and we could tell we were headed into the mountains. Almost imperceptibly, the forests grew thicker and taller and the dominant color of the landscape changed from brown to green. We passed the Shuswap Lake. Here we turned from 97 to the Transcanada Highway. I was expecting a bigger, broader stretch of pavement here, but it to was just a two lane road. Worse, these two lanes were under a lot of construction so we sat stalled a a while a a couple points waiting for the signalman to turn the sign from “STOP” to “SLOW.” There were a couple of old-fashioned roadside attractions here including this one.
Yes, those are indeed live goats. There are pens on either side of the parking area and for a dollar you can fill a can with feed and using pulleys bring it up to the goat walk where the goats will happily eat it. Dave’s had a lot of other things to sell you besides goat feed, but we just used the bathroom and snapped the photos.
Along Highway 1, the road rises into the Monashee mountains. This is one of the ranges which comprise the large Columbia Mountains, and they divide the drainage of the Thompson and Fraser rivers from that of the Columbia River. We drove through Eagle pass. Here, at the small settlement of Craigellachie the last spike of the Canadian Pacific Railroad was driven in 1887.
Our destination was the mountain town of Revelstoke, home to Mount Revelstoke National Park. We dropped our bags off in our hotel room and drove to the park. After paying the entrance fee at the gate, you drive up a 16 kilometer road to the top of the mountain. Along the way you gain nearly a mile in elevation. Our ears popped a couple times. But it was our eyes that popped when we saw the view!
On every side, as far as you can see, you are surrounded by glacier-capped granite ridges. It was all a little too much for John. He unleashed both the dogs and his inner Julie Andrews as he ran and sang, “The hills are alive….”
The only downside of the Alpine perfection were the mosquitos. John had the foresight to have brought some Off after we learned our lesson at Joffre Lakes. Other travelers were not as prescient. John helpfully offered some of the spray to a Spanish tourist and his family, and he in turn offered to take our picture.
We took the trail to the “Ice box.” That’s the rock formation below so called because bits of snow are found in the crevices year round. I am not quite sure who thought that sticking a cast-iron statue of a Plains Indian carrying a peace pipe would be a good addition to the scene, but I did not much care for it.
At this elevation, it is still spring and there were wildflowers everywhere.
John and I were both particularly taken with the small Glacial lily.
After leaving the park, we decided to explore Revelstoke. Particularly after Kelowna, we were taken by this small charming town on the banks of the Columbia River. The blue green dome of the courthouse is visible throughout the city.
John was famished and wanted dinner. I wasn’t feeling well all that well – I think it may have been dehydration or perhaps the elevation – so I only nibbled on an appetizer. He had quite a formidable piece of beef tenderloin which he pronounced “superb.” As we ate, we were sitting on the outside patio of the restaurant. The dogs were in the car, under the shade of a tree, with the windows opened. We both hoped they would just curl up and sleep, but instead they bark at every person and animal that walked even close. I began to feel for parents whose children misbehave in restaurants.
After dinner, we looked around town. It reminded me a lot of Dunsmuir, but it seemed more prosperous.
There was a couple guys with guitars singing folk rock on a small bandstand. People strolled around eating ice cream or sat in plastic chairs to listen. There were lots of dogs, and Edie would have much preferred to have smelled her fellow canines than to be forced to sit and listen to the music! There is still a functioning movie theater in town, and John took this artsy shot with its marquee.
We returned to hotel. Tomorrow we’ll be off to Glacier National Park and Lake Louise.
