THE PEOPLE of the RIVER OF MISTS

On the morning of June 13, Ron and I left Prince George, excited at the prospect of spending a week with our son, Owen; daughter-in-law, Jen; and little grandson, Lochlan, who live in New Hazelton. Instead of driving non-stop to get to Prince Rupert, or driving non-stop from Prince Rupert to get to Prince George, or heading north on the Cassiar Highway en route to the Yukon and Alaska, as we had done in the past, on this visit we were going to have the time to relax and visit with our family and to explore the area around the Hazeltons, both new and old.

            Our first taste of the exceptional treats in store for us came in Burns Lake where we stopped at the Overwaitea Mall, conveniently located just off the Highway of Tears. We were hungry. In search of nourishment in the mall, we chanced upon the Woodland Bakery where a tray of sausage rolls had just been pulled from the oven by a man with long black hair partially held in place by a pony tail and a hair net. Trusting what our noses were telling us, Ron and I promptly went to the counter of the bakery and ordered four of these rolls. Then we took our snacks out into the corridor of the mall and sat down to enjoy our late lunch.

            “These are the best sausage rolls I’ve ever eaten,” we announced to each other in unison.

            Returning to the Woodland Bakery for a bag of pastries to tide me over for the rest of our journey, I told the owner, a tall woman who, given her grey curls and glasses, looked to be in her early sixties: “These are the best sausage rolls we’ve ever eaten.”

            “I know, I know” she said. “People tell us that all the time.”

            “Well, it’s true,” I said. “And could I please have a chocolate éclair, a cream puff and a sugared doughnut?” I asked. (NB These were for me and NOT for Ron who is careful about what he eats.)

            The most outstanding geological feature of New Hazelton is, without doubt, Mt. Hagwilget, the northernmost peak in the Rocher Déboulé range. This mountain ascends, seemingly vertically, up its 6811 feet to crest in a spectacular arête, or sharp mountain ridge. Owen and Jen’s house sits near the base of this mountain which completely blocks them from the sun for two months during the winter. New Hazelton is surrounded by numerous mountain ranges—e.g. the Nass, the Kispiox, and the Bulkley, with its summit in the Seven Sisters Peaks.

            The area is also famous as the Totem Pole Capital of the World. It is the traditional territory of the Gitxsan peoples who have lived in the area for thousands of years and whose name means “the people of the river of mists.” The ancient village of Ksan is situated at the confluence of the Bulkley and Skeena Rivers in Old Hazelton. The houses which make up the historical village and museum form a single line, with the buildings facing the Bulkley River, and whose large decorated house fronts and poles are visible to anyone approaching from the river.

(Hint: To view this special site you could cut and paste the following link in your browser:  ksan.org  NB I didn’t have any film in my 35mm Minolta. In fact, I didn’t even have my camera with me on the trip. Perhaps I thought I would have enough to pack with all the books and our bags? However, I did kick myself for forgetting to pack binoculars.)

            Famous is a relative term. As the Ksan Museum brochure makes clear, the survival of the Skeena area’s precious artifacts and buildings is due, in part, to the region’s escaping the effects of colonization. Thanks to their isolation for much of their history, the Gitxsan were allowed to continue their traditional life style. Even today the area remains pretty much “off the beaten track.”

Fortunately for Ron and me, Owen and Jen know most of the local sites. They took us on numerous outings, the most memorable of which was our trip up the Cassiar Highway to the village of Gitwangak with its totem poles still in situ; to the National Park site of Battle Hill where a legendary Gitxsan chief held off all invaders, including the Haida; and to 37 Grille for lunch where Ron and I soon remarked in unison, “This is the best potato leek soup I’ve ever eaten.” Owen, Jen and Lochlan were too busy with their own meals to reply. However, upon leaving the diner, we did take home sample slices of the Black Forest Cake, the Chocolate/Caramel Explosion, the Cheesecake and the Maple Walnut Cake. (fyi Please cut and paste:  37 Grille, Kitwanga )

Our favourite outing was Anderson Flats, near the confluence of the Skeena and the Bulkley, on the opposite shore from Ksan. Here we could sit by the rivers, revel in the scenery, or stroll along the road, while Owen’s dog, Gus, ran free. A place to seek and find!

Ron, Lochlan, Pat and the Skeena

&

Lochlan and a misty mountain

NO ROOM at the INNS

Rain pounded our windshield as Ron and I drove through the June monsoon out of Calgary, all the way to the centre of Canmore. Here we were met at the side of the main street by Ron Deans who was wearing a yellow rain slicker over his shorts and T-shirt and standing under the protection of a golf umbrella. He guided us to his and Dianne’s nearby townhouse. We gratefully took shelter in their living room where a welcoming fire blazed in the fireplace. After the ‘busyness’ of the public events in Calgary we sat back and relaxed, feeling immediately at home. We helped ourselves to the generous array of buns, cheeses, meats, fruit and condiments spread out on the dining table, and washed down the delicious late afternoon meal with a glass of local craft beer.

Dianne was the first person to write to Ron after the publication of The Defiant Mind. She had found his book helpful and inspirational and she wanted to talk to him about her stroke. She first proposed they meet on Vancouver Island last fall, but her trip west had not worked out as planned, so Ron had put a visit to the Deans on his Stroke Month itinerary.

            Our conversation soon turned to the reservations Ron and I had NOT made for accommodations for the night. Apparently Albertans head for the Rockies in droves every weekend, monsoon or no monsoon. Dianne’s phone calls soon confirmed that all the hotels, motels and B&B’s in the surrounding area were full. Canmore, being just outside Banff Jasper National Park, is a favourite recreational destination. Given that there were no rooms to be had at any of the inns, the Deans graciously invited us to spend the night with them. We spent the rest of the evening enjoying a lively conversation and went to bed grateful for their generous hospitality.

            Ron and I awoke the next morning to discover the rain had stopped and that we were in the midst of towering mountains draped in white, fresh-fallen snow. A message from Noreen Kamaal arrived announcing that the two-day closure of the Trans-Canada Highway, caused by flooding just west of Revelstoke, had been lifted and the road to Kamloops was now open. After breakfast, and after promising to renew a budding friendship with Dianne and Ron, we resumed our travels, heading west through the Rockies. We were soon past Banff, Lake Louise, Golden and the summit of the Rogers Pass. We stopped briefly at Tim Horton’s in Revelstoke for a mandatory coffee and doughnut. Back on the Trans-Canada we were surprised not to encounter any single lane traffic for road repairs caused by the flooding. In fact, there was no sign of the road closure at all. The debris had been cleared away and there was no obvious damage to the road or to a bridge.

            When we reached Salmon Arm the sun was hot. The temperature on the dashboard of our car read 31 degrees. The water level in Shuswap Lake was exceptionally high from the deep winter snowpack, and it was still cresting from the heavy spring run-off. The last hour of our journey to Kamloops passed quickly. As soon as I smell sagebrush I immediately feel at home. I graduated from Kam High in 1965 and played basketball for the Red Angels. The Red Angels’ rivalry with the Salmon Arm Jewels was legendary in the sixties as the two teams duelled their way to league and district titles, competing all the way to the finals of the provincial championships which, way back then, were held in the old Women’s Gym at UBC. Being on my “home court” I calmly drove us to the main hotel in the centre of town where there was still room for us at the inn.

            The next morning we awoke refreshed. Ron had another Lunch and Learn Session booked for the Royal Inland Hospital at noon. At this gathering Deb Rusch did her “Living with Stroke” presentation “remotely” via teleconference. Ron followed by speaking about his stroke experience and his suggestions for treatment and therapy in answer to questions posed by the thirty plus therapists. The session was concluded by host Jeff Frison at 1 PM precisely. After chatting with a number of therapists in the hall outside the lecture room, Ron and I were able to resume our travels a little earlier than expected. This time, however, I was able to drive this leg of our journey north, through Clinton, One Hundred Mile House, Lac La Hache, Williams Lake and Quesnel, through moose country, secure in the knowledge that we had already booked a reservation at an inn in Prince George.