I don’t remember how old I was the year we went to BC to deliver a baby gift. I don’t remember for sure where in BC we went. But I do remember my mom’s opinion on the whole matter. She was a teensy bit judgmental, I think. The relative in question was a nephew of my father’s.
“First he moves into a cabin on the side of a mountain to raise goats and make candles. Now he’s shacked up with some woman and they have a baby. For certain, they’ve saddled that poor child with some God-awful hippy name like Infinity or Marzipan.”
I laugh out loud as this memory surfaces, brought on, no doubt, by the landscape I am driving through.
But let me start at the beginning.
My plan, at the beginning of the day, was to go find a place called Shuswap Falls, located on Mabel Lake Road outside of Lumby. It was overcast and cool, but the forecast was for much hotter temperatures later in the day. My destination was less than an hour and a half away, so I was comfortable taking my time. I chose to take backroads between Vernon and Lumby. Google maps, I discovered, will reroute you if you go off-course. The other one just kind of quits on me.
I stopped to watch a border collie round up a flock of sheep. I stopped to look at an old farm building falling back into the ground.
I stopped to admire the corn towering over my head.
Have you ever had a day where everything you looked at was beautiful? That’s the kind of day I was having.
Arriving at the Shuswap Falls Recreation Site, I headed down the trail to the viewpoint. There were stairs. I thought I could probably make it, and since they were going up now, they would be going down on the way back. I could probably do that.
Except when I got to the top, there was another set. I hadn’t planned on that.
After a brief rest, I tackled the second set of stairs and arrived at the viewpoint.
Once I made it back to the minivan, I decided to take a little side trip down a gravel road I had passed. There were number of farms and houses along the road, but still plenty to look at and enjoy.
Once I’d finished exploring that road, I found myself wondering about Mabel Lake. I took out my phone to check the map. No service. Well, how far could it be? I started out the day with half a tank of gas. I wasn’t down to a quarter yet. I figured I could drive until I reached a quarter tank and at that point, I’d really have to turn around and go back.
It was on that part of the drive that I recalled my mother’s feelings regarding that long-ago trip. I’ve always wondered about farms in the middle of mountainous areas. They don’t seem natural to me. Of course, I’m from the prairies where farmland is a golden field that stretches to the horizon. These pockets of green, growing things seem out of place, and maybe that’s why I remembered the landscape from the past. That “cabin on the side of a mountain” would have been on the other side of the road, where driveways head straight up and you can’t see where they end.
I was thinking about turning back. But through the trees I could see the blue of the lake. I didn’t know how far I’d have to go to gain access, but it couldn’t be much further.
That’s when the bear stepped out of the woods.
He ran back when he saw me, but he didn’t run far. I stepped out of the minivan with my camera in hand. We looked at one another, and I almost forgot to take the shot. Once I had taken four or five frames, I got back in the minivan and slowly drove away.
I am blessed.
How many stops had I made? How many breaks did I take, just to arrive at that spot at that exact moment?
I continued down the road, convinced now that I had plenty of gas. I arrived at Mabel Lake just a few minutes later, and it too, was beautiful.
Amy, by the way. The baby’s name was Amy.