We went camping this week, but I can’t tell you where. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Usually I like to tell you where we’ve been, even provide links so that you can read about the places and maybe visit them yourselves. But, this time, if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you, and I’m a snuggler, not a killer.
The location of this latest camping adventure was discovered by G & S on a day outing back in July and they thought it was the perfect destination for our August rendezvous. And perfect it was. In fact, I think I saw tears pooling in Nollind’s eyes when we drove in, and I don’t think they were just tears of relief that we’d arrived safely with T driving. (She’s pretty new to this trailer hauling thing and I see his jaw tighten every now and then. He tries to hide it but we dogs have highly developed senses.)
Anyway…this place. O. M. G. It’s in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, filled with spruce and aspen forest, has a beautiful river running through it, and quiet, oh so quiet. Heaven. And, since this describes many places on the eastern slopes of the Rockies, I think our secret is safe.
G & S and my buddy Ria arrived before us and picked, I kid you not, the best spot in the whole campground, right on the river, with a little dog beach for swimming and lots of trees for shade. Heaven. Wait, I think I said that already … but it bears repeating.
There were twice daily walks on the quiet country road and along the south side of the river, turns around the campground in the morning and before bed, and as much swimming/wading as a dog wanted to do. Me, I’m more of a wade in when it’s hot kind of guy, Ria on the other hand is a very enthusiastic water gymnast. We were there two days and I’m not sure she was ever entirely dry.
And therein lies the only down side of the outing … two days. It was only two days. (Sad dog-face emoji.)
You might be wondering why all the secrecy? Well, the camp
attendant came around and chatted awhile, told us how you used to be able to
get a spot in the campground any day, but now weekends were mostly full all
season long. Turns out there was just too much of that telling two friends who
tell two friends stuff going on. So, the six of us made a pact, then and there,
that it would be our secret, special campground.
If any of you reading this blog has been to our secret campground and recognize it from the photos, maybe we’ll see you there sometime but, in the meanwhile … shhh….
We were on the road last Fur-iday and I completely forgot about the blog until Saturday. Sorry about that. And Saturday was the fullest day on the trip and I was exhausted by the time we got back to camp.
So, where did I leave off? Right. T’s birthday and the anticipated company. Both arrived right on schedule, along with some cool, wet weather. But we RVers are nothing if not adaptable. After Auntie Sus and her friends Mike and Lily arrived from Ymir, the six of us walked to Two Scoop Steve’s for chili and soup rather than ice cream! There was also birthday cake eatin’, guitar pickin’, campground walkin’, story tellin’, and fireside sittin’. Good times along the Moyie River at Yahk Provincial Park (and we did get that ice cream cone when it started to warm up).
Cranbrook was our next stop, just an overnight in an RV park to give T and Nollind a chance to sanitize the trailer tanks for the season. They took a walk around town without me because they had some shopping to do and I was quite happy to nap in the trailer rather than spend my afternoon tied outside various stores. In the evening we walked around our neighbourhood and came across a somewhat perplexing group of adult playground equipment. T and Nollind gave each machine a try while I watched from the rubber matting.
Tuesday morning we were on our way again, northbound on Highway 95A to Kimberley for a lunch stop. The weather was fine for outdoor dining so I scored a great spot on the sidewalk patio of a little Mexican place. I do love dog-friendly patios and think all restaurants should have them. At the Burrito Grill they even brought me my own beverage!
Our destination for the day was Whiteswan Lake Provincial Park, a park with two lakes and four campgrounds at the end of a gravel road. It was a long, dusty, bumpy way in, but we finally arrived at Alces Lake (Moose Lake) and the first campground only to find it mostly full with just a few undesirable spots open. After 21 kms of white-knuckling the often narrow logging road, I could tell T was ready to get out from behind the wheel, but her desire to find a nice camp spot won out and we were on the road again. Four more bouncy kilometres later, we were at Muskrat Point, another nearly full and disappointing destination. Never one to give up on a dream, T drove on, bound for Inlet Creek.
The next four kilometres were really rough but, without anywhere to turn around, we forged on, only to find that Inlet Creek was more parking lot than campground, about half full and right on the dusty logging road.
In addition to the disappointing campgrounds, the rough road had caused the medicine cabinet to bounce open and all of the tooth cleaning equipment had landed in the toilet. It was the final straw. The white flag flew, the towel was thrown in, I was fed my dinner on the side of the road, and we started our trek back to the highway with Nollind at the wheel.
After a short visit to Lussier Hot Springs at km 17 of the Whiteswan Road and a stop at an RV park store for a couple of toothbrushes, we were bound for Premier Lake. It was a complete unknown but looked good online and was close. The road in was not great but, compared to Whiteswan, a complete walk in the park, we found a nice spot in the loop nearest the lake, and we were settled and down at the beach just in time for sunset. The day had been salvaged.
Premier Lake was named for the premier of BC at the time it was established but the other meaning of the word— top-ranking, second to none and outstanding—definitely fits. What a place! Nothing but the sound of loons calling across the lake every morning, day hikes to nearby blue-green mountain lakes, wild turtles, a creek running right through the campground, and so many swimming opportunities. I could have stayed longer than the three days and can’t wait to go back.
The final stop on our 12-day tour was a cabin near Invermere that belongs to a friend of Nollind’s. We parked Simon in a lovely shaded spot and I was finally able to be off leash. Thanks, Al!
Invermere was the busiest (and most death defying) of our stops, with a trip to town for burgers and a walk around town on day one and a visit to the farmers market and a dog park on day two. Invermere was also the warmest of our stops with near 30C (86F) temperatures both days. By the time we’d wandered the market on Saturday morning I was so ready for a swim that I was in the water first chance I got at Ray Brydon Park. Trouble was, the water I chose, Toby Creek, was running high and fast with spring run-off and I was swept away before T and Nollind realized what was happening.
I managed to swim to an island, scramble on shore, and there they were, my peeps, looking back at me from the other side with worried expressions. T called me to the upstream end of the island so I’d have more time to get across before I met the full, river-sized channel downstream. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to get back in there but I trust my people and there was T, looking enthusiastic and calling me to join her on the other side. I went back in the water and was immediately caught up in the current. T disappeared from view and I was swept past the spot where Nollind was waiting in an opening in the underbrush a little farther downstream. Oh boy, I was in trouble. I spotted another opening in the shrubs that lined the creek and paddled as hard as I could. I was so happy when I felt solid ground under my feet. I was thoroughly soaked and a little shaken but the welcome I got on shore was almost worth the scare. Almost.
On the way home, we made one last stop near Banff for one more lake, one more swim, and one more nap. This trip brought my 2019 lake tally to nineteen—Sylvan, Sturgeon, Williston, Charlie, Little, Saskatoon, Crimson, Twin, Chinook, Alces, Whiteswan, Premier, Cat’s Eye, Turtle, Canuck, Yankee, Columbia, Windermere, and Two-Jack—and it’s only just the first day of summer!
I know it’s the 1st Fur-iday of June and supposed to be a Logan flashback post, but I’m away from home with no access to all those great old photos so Logan will be back in July.
As for me, just like that Willie Nelson classic, I am on the road again, seeing places that I’ve never been. We left home on Wednesday morning, new trailer Simon in tow, headed for the southwest corner of Alberta and points beyond.
My Lakes and More Lakes spring continued with our first stop at Chinook Lake in the Crowsnest Pass. T was overjoyed when we got a spot right on the lake and Nollind and I were pretty happy about it too.
The weather wasn’t great, a little cool with the odd shower, but we managed to get in a hike around the lake, a walking tour of the upper part of the campground, and a morning walk in search of the local moose. We saw a bald eagle, some mergansers, and a few deer…but no moose.
After two nights at Chinook Lake we headed west this morning, over the Rockies and into BC. We’re camped waterfront again at this stop, but on a river, the Moyie.
Tomorrow is T’s birthday and I hear we’ve got company coming, dog and human, so I’m resting up in preparation for the festivities!
From what I hear we’ll still be travelling next Fur-iday, but I’ll try to report in. Until then…this is Chico…on the road…