Big Surf

 December 26:

Today we went with the crew of us, Julian’s three daughters, wife Gia, and my parents and sister, to Marissa beach, where there is a corner pocket of good waves and lots of funky restaurants where the tables are placed out on the waves next to the surf. I went out for a little afternoon session of surfing, battling the reef and rocks to get out where it was deep enough to catch something, and then the waves disappeared. I met a couple of nice travelers from Finland and Chec Republic who were moving to a beach further up the coast because the waves were better there, and they invited me to come along. We were also surfing with a nice local guy, and his friend drove us in his tuk tuk and waited for us while we surfed.

HUGE waves. WAY too big for me. The kind that hold you under the bubbling water for five or more seconds when you fall. A couple of big bails and I spent the rest of the time paddling around and skirting the edges where the wave was calmer. I think I will go to see Casoon for a lesson before I leave.

I tuk tuked back with the guy who was waiting for us. Super nice guy, and very interested in learning about Canada. He thought I was quite funny, which many of the locals do I suppose because I speak with such expression and flamboyant hand gestures. Whatever. It helps me communicate when there is a language barrier, although most of the locals seem to have at least basic English here. The guy said that they take English class in school.

The highway along the shoreline is lined with small graveyards. When the tsunami hit Sri Lanka seven years ago, 50,000 people died, among them the tuk tuk driver’s sister. He said that his family will honour her memory by giving food to ten monks every year on the anniversary of her death, as well as making a trip to a Buddhist temple. Every single person who I have asked about the tsunami has had either a direct family member or a close relative who was killed by the tsunami. Beaches are littered with broken bits of pottery and pieces of red brick, edges warn smooth from the waves. I can only assume all the debris is left over from when the tsunami hit, as brick and cement is the building material of choice here; it is easy to procure and stands up against the relentless humidity.

December 27: (today)

Another morning of surfing. Sanath (pronounced “Sanat”) drove me out to a spot recommended by a couple of the local guys who work here, and I borrowed a surf board from a friend of theirs and left my things with their family while I went out. Again with the huge waves and held breath, but still it was nice to be out on the open ocean and sunshine.

Once I had had enough battering for the day I went back to their house and he and his family (he lives with his mother and sister—families tend to live together here for a long time, and even when they are married they move close to where they were born) fed me some king coconuts that they knocked from the tree in their backyard with a hook taped to the end of a long stick. They found me quite entertaining as I slurped back the fresh flesh and drank up the coconut water. I liked it so much that I had a second, and they sent me home with three more for later. Such lovely people.

In the afternoon I went into the fort of Galle to do a little souvenir shopping. I’m not much of a shopper, so it didn’t last long. I’m amazed by the architecture in the area, and it is always nice to be out in places where there are locals. Part of the beauty of this country is that it is still off the radar of the hoards of tourists that travel to other parts of the world, and I predict that it won’t be this way for long. It is absolutely wonderful. Great food, friendly locals, good surf and wonderful beaches, amazing countryside and wildlife. Cheap. I might just have to look into teaching over here. There are some American teachers working in Dubai who are spending a couple of nights here, so I will have to inquire about the possibility of working abroad.

As I write this the sky turns a lush pink and purple and chanting from the nearby temple spreads out across the patty fields below. Palm fronds clack in the soft wind, and bird song calls out in fits from every angle. Above my head dozens of sparrows duck and dive across the opening in the trees made by the pool. What an amazing moment in life this is, so I am going to sign off to sit in quiet enjoyment. Happy Holidays all, wherever in the world you may be. 

Yala National Park

Today is Christmas. It is sunny, the stagnant air pregnant with humidity. It mists the throat as it goes down, so warm that the body does nothing to heat it. It’s like breathing with a humidifier in a comfortably hot room; the breath flows even more unconsciously than usual. I can understand why, years ago, people with rheumatic ailments would seek out refuge in warm climates; breathing really is easier.

We have made it back from our overnight trip to Yala National Park, which was quite an adventure. In the four-hour drive to Yala I was struck by just how tidy and smart the people look here. Everyone is dressed nicely, in clean trousers or those long wrap around sarongs with a golf or button-up dress shirt for men, and saris or a long skirt and blouse for women. I was expecting, in comparison with my other travels around Asia, some areas of obvious impoverishment to present themselves, but it seems that people live well here. In speaking with our driver, Sulanga, it seems that there is even municipal water and sewage to homes, and garbage collection, although in many areas the litter dances in the wind, so you certainly wouldn’t know it.

The literacy rate in Sri Lanka is about 90 % for women, and 95 % for men, which is absolutely unheard of in other countries across the world. We passed many preschools on our drive, attesting to the importance of education here. It seems that most people have work, as the economy and country in general seems to be on a major upswing since the civil war ended. People are also employed in farming or fishing, depending on their geographic location. The local people are incredibly friendly, and meet my gaze with a smile and even a wave at times, which is not something found among their South-Asian counterparts who are rightfully weary of ill-behaved tourists.

We found the stray dogs, hundreds of them, lying right beside the highway, sometimes even reaching with their legs and tail out into the oncoming traffic. Cars and tuk tuks were missing dogs, cows staked at the side of the road, people walking or on bicycle, by an inch or two at times. Many of the street dogs walk with a limp from being hit by cars, and I am not surprised, as they stand so close to the edge of the road without even flinching when a truck barrels past them an inch away from brushing their fur. They all look similar, shorthaired and pit-bull faced, with patches of fur missing revealing the leathery skin beneath. Certainly not the types of animals that tug on the heartstrings to be taken home.

Houses here are very colourful—from vibrant purples to baby blue and lime green—it seems the brighter the better. Many of them are also adorned with cement bricks with patterns cut out of them, squares of intricate cement lace placed in the walls above doorways and windows. Laundry was out yesterday, the first sunny day after a few filled with rain, as well as mattresses propped up on plastic lawn chairs, which, after casually looking into some doorways as we passed, seems to be the furniture of choice for the local Sri Lankan living room. I can’t imagine a couch or wooden chair would last very long in this humidity.

Once we arrived in Yala we traded our air-conditioned van and driver for a rusted out thirty year old, open air Land Cruiser which would take us on our safari through the national park. The guy driving it, barefoot and dressed in a long sari and dress shirt, has been a safari driver in the park for thirty-three years. He was quite entertaining. At the entrance to the park we paid for our tickets and got a “wildlife guide”. There were lots of local families out on safari as well, although unlike the trucks with “white” people, which harbored only 1-4 passengers, their trucks were packed to the brim with 15 or more people crammed onto the back bench seats.

The safari was AWESOME!!!!! We saw tons of wild elephants, beautiful birds of all colours, peacocks, water buffalo, owls. Unfortunately we did not see any leopards, which is what we were all hoping for. Apparently some people stay for four or five nights until they get to see one. There were leopards out during our morning safari, and we tried to rush to see them (our driver was very skilled and passed everyone—branches were reaching in and lashing our arms, but it was very entertaining) but by the time we got close our driver got a phone call that the leopards had disappeared into the jungle.

Cell phone etiquette is non-existent here. Everyone answers their phone at any moment, even if they are working in a restaurant or as a guide somewhere. And the phones ring all the time. In the five hour drive to Yala, our driver must have received and made at least 25 phone calls, no joke. It seems that this is not unusual among Sri Lankans either. Everyone seems to have a cell phone, and they are constantly in use. The dinner table is beautifully set with a white cloth, so I must get going for Christmas dinner.

I would love to post some pictures, but it takes a long time for them to upload. I will have to backtrack and add them once I find some quiet time at home. MERRY CHRISTMAS ALL!!!!!!!

Breathing Rain

At the moment I am sitting outside in the indescribable humidity; each key that I hit is covered in a thin film of condensation, as is my computer screen. Birds screech from trees in waves of unusual calls completely foreign to me, and dogs bark in a cacophony that has become indicative of Sri Lanka. Everything is damp from the torrential downpours over the past couple of days, which even the locals claim is uncharacteristic for this time of year.

On my birthday we went inside the walls of the “fort” in Galle to do some shopping. It is an old fort used by the British while this was a British colony. There are large warehouses, now converted into stores and commerce spots, where hundreds of years ago the spices and coffee and materials awaited transport to the gentry of Europe. We were not out long before monsoon-style rains forced us to duck into shops and loiter among their exotic clothes and jewelry. We had made the mistake of going out without an umbrella.

That day we also walked to the nearby beach, wandering the dirt and gravel road which is currently being worked on by adding more dirt to the potholes and rolling over it, past the public school (kids here are on summer holidays), across the busy street where people drive on the side they are meant to only part of the time—you can have three cars coming at you from the same direction on the two-lane road, a wall of cars with even a little motorbike tucked in at their side. No sidewalks.

The beach is nice, although there is a lot of garbage strewn about, and I can’t understand why there is so much broken pottery everywhere. Like other areas of SE Asia where I have been it seems that the concept of central garbage collection areas is unheard of. There is no government-run refuse pickup, so people burn it or throw it away from their homes somewhere, and not many locals actually live right on the ocean. The erosion, constant waves and salted humidity would do a lot of damage to the infrastructure of one’s house in a short time. No one lives there, so this is where the garbage ends up, although I am absolutely positive the per capita production of garbage here pails in comparison with that in other parts of the world. We see it here because it is not hidden from view like the garbage that disappears from the edge of our driveway each week. Out of sight, out of mind.

Today is December 23, early in the morning before my parents, sister and I leave on an overnight trip to Yalla National Park where we are going to go on a safari to see some of the wildlife native to Sri Lanka. Yesterday I got my first taste of surfing here. It is a little particular, because there are reefs close to shore and a funnel of sandbars that can create aggressive rip tides that pull people out to sea; you never see anyone actually swimming in the ocean, except where there is a protected area that makes a calm inner sanctuary protected from the whirling sea.

A local took me out, Kasun (pronounced Ka-soon). Harry, a young Brit who spent four years of his life riding his motorbike through India and other parts of the world before ending up in Sri Lanka seven months ago, is good friends with Kasun and organized for him to take me out. Kasun and his family grew up beside the sea, living right in front of the sliver where it is safe to surf and the waves are good. They run a little restaurant and bar there as well, and were wonderfully friendly and helpful. I told Kasun that I had surfed before so he lent me a board, took me out on a little session before it got dark and gave me some pointers. “You need a lesson,” he said, smiling. “I will give you one tomorrow.”

Unfortunately we changed our plans and are heading into the wilderness for the night, so hopefully I can take a lesson from this local pro when I get back. I hope the surf doesn’t get too much bigger. Two-meter swells are perfect for me!

Steph and I also went on a long beach walk yesterday morning. It was just wonderful being by the ocean, and we met an interesting local guy who wanted to practice his English. His T-shirt said "I hate Mondays" (it was a Thursday) which I found quite funny.

Now I hear a bread truck rolling past the walls of the hotel. They play a high-pitched, chipmunk-style version of “Aura Lee” or “It’s a Small World” on repeat as their owner pedals his bike (I have only ever seen them driven by men) fitted with a glass display case on the back layered with fresh bread loaves. It’s 7 am here, and the bustling activity of the day has begun. It gets dark at around 6 pm, so I think the locals go to bed early and get up early to use as much of the daylight hours as possible.

Well, we’re off to see the leopards and elephants and monkeys… oh my! Not much time to post photos at the moment, but I will embellish this post with some visuals as soon as I get the chance.

First Day in Sri Lanka: Smiling Moons and Fireflies

Heavily medicated with Nyquil, nose lined with Vics Vapo Rub and sprayed with decongenstant, I settled in with my last cup of ginger tea before the flight and begin reading the final chapter of The Golden Spruce. What an amazing book. It takes place throughout BC and, especially interesting to me, in Lillooet and Gold Bridge, where Grant Hadwin, the book’s very real protagonist spent most of his early days in the logging industry. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in learning about the starting days of logging, where Vaillant talks about the dangers of the job, the move towards mechanized operations and what that meant for the efficiency of felling previously unreachable stands of old-growth forest. A little depressing, for it discusses the sentiments of fallers who felt the old growth was a virtually inexhaustible resource, and now the province has been virtually wiped clear of what took hundreds and hundreds of years to grow.

And now I am in a seriously luxurious boutique hotel room in Sri Lanka. What an absolute contrast to my simple life in the mountains. The plane rides were okay, until the final leg, when we still had 7.5 hours left of the ten-hour flight. I turned to Stephanie, feeling like I had slept for ages before finding out it was a measly thirty minutes, and asked her, with my eyes wild and bloodshot “how are we going to do this? I don’t think I can make it. I feel so trapped!!!”

“Just think, it’s longer than a school day.” was her response. Thanks Steph, for putting an incredibly daunting comparison on an already horrendous amount of time.

To get here we took a three hour plane to Chicago, had a four hour layover, took a nine hour flight to London, where we had a six hour layover, and then boarded our final plane to Colombo which was a ten hour flight. Then once we landed it was about a two hour drive to Why House Resort in Galle on the southwest coast of the country (pronounced “gall”). We took the new highway connecting the two cities, which was completed ten years after construction started and is Sri Lanka’s first highway. It used to take twice the time to drive between the two places.

The highway splits through farms and lush countryside with long-necked white birds dipping their heads in and out of irrigation ditches across the endless fields and roads of rich reddish dirt wandering off into the horizon. It was beautiful. Driving through the towns on the outskirts of Colombo reminded me very much of other areas in Asia where I have traveled: early morning people streaming together and coalescing on the sides of the streets, house fronts and storefronts closed up with what look like metal sliding garage doors, a bit of neon here and there, the familiar tuk tuk, a two-stroke motorbike covered with an open-doored metal casing so that it can carry passengers in the back, usually painted green. Like a little beetle noisily sputtering along the edges of the street.

We were met by some employees of Why House when we arrived, thankfully, because with all the turns there was no way we would have found the place on our own.

And Why House itself? Let’s just say we are living like movie stars or super models on holiday. The hotel is absolutely stunning, designed by some famous Italian architect and bought by Julian, an industrious Englishman and one of my Dad’s very close friends, a couple of years ago.

You see, before 2009 Sri Lanka was involved in a very bloody civil war, and therefore foreign investment and tourism in the country was virtually non-existent. More on this later, but at the moment it seems that both areas are going through a little catch-up, and from what I have already seen and heard I can see why. Apparently Sri Lanka clocked its 800,000 tourist yesterday. I wonder if that could have been one of us.

After dinner Steph and I loitered around the outside dining area and spotted our first fireflies of the evening, pulsating green and yellowish glows as they streaked through the air, flashing when they landed. It honestly looks as if a little tiny bug-sized light bulb is stuck to their backside.

I also went for a swim, incredibly gladly, for there is no place to swim in Gold Bridge during the cooler months, and even the short-lived heat of the summer makes the cold lake swimming in the area indelibly sparse. On our walk back to our room to try to sleep again—we slept away most of the day once we arrived, for it was raining and we were understandably exhausted—we noticed the crescent moon, rotated to take the shape of a smile, and the constellation of Orion, both lighting up the sky as the sounds of an unfamiliar landscape accompanied our footsteps along the cobbled pathway.

Now here it is December 21 here, already my birthday on this side of the globe, and I am hoping to get in some surfing. The rips can be quite bad here, as the natural flow of the ocean was changed because of the tsunami, but there are some locals that a friend of Julian knows, so I will try to get out with them. I’ll let you know how everything goes when I get a chance, and I will also post some pictures.

Below is a one-minute video of Why House if you're interested. Doesn't fully capture the beauty of the place, but I suppose no form of media can ever capture the essence of the real thing.

HOLIDAY!

What a week! It's as if the linear hours of the last week before the holiday crammed the days into the space of a pinhead, and just as suddenly as a vaccination shot, it's all over. Winter break begins!

The play was a great success, in spite of the fact that the elf and Rudolph dropped out, Rudolph due to illness and the elf due to intense last-minute stage fright. Luckily the two lead roles, that of Mrs. Claus (and Clause the designer) and Mr. Claus were in great form. They were brilliant, soliciting lots of laughs and cheers from the crowd, as expected. I was nervous too, and crunched back a half-pack of Halls before starting out in front of the curtains to narrate the show along. Another cold coming on. I was just sick a month ago, but I suppose this is the life of a new teacher exposed to kids who reluctantly wash their hands when they are asked to before they consume their recess and lunchtime meals.

After the play there was a potluck dinner. It is a very unique experience to be surrounded by the majority of the community all in one place. Most of the faces were familiar, and I was surprised at just how many young families there are living in the area; there are about 10 kids all under five years old, plenty of reason to keep the school up and running, I hope. The discussion of school closure (the policy states that eight kids is the minimum enrolment to keep it open) will begin in the new year, and the turnout at the play and dinner showed just how much support the community gives to the school.

I spent Thursday at home to rest before the break, as I am now headed to Sri Lanka on the marathon 30-hour travel to get there, which started at 4:30 am this morning. Certainly not something to be sick for. Feeling better though, thank goodness, so I can relax and actually enjoy the time off in the sun.

The mouse has been back in my house on numerous nights, and each time it leaves little islands of droppings across the counter I have found another entry hole under the sink to fill in with tin foil. At one point I even thought that I might have trapped it inside the house, as it seemed to have chewed some of the foil from inside the house! I have some friends visiting my place over the holidays, and they are going to bring a mouse trap. Sorry little guy. You give me no choice but to exterminate you by remote request.

Cinnamon Crunch's days seem less limited, as he has been checked on a couple times by people in the community. From the pictures sent to me after the last visit he looks downright FAT, exactly as a bear should look before going into winter hibernation. Apparently it looks as though he is trying to burrow into the bank near his carcass stash, but the snow is yet to be thick enough to permit it. He has been using branches to cover some of his food, and supposedly he has even fended off a pack of wolves from encroaching upon his cache. Go Cinnamon! This is a great sign, as it means he is getting comfortable and territorial over his human-selected home and will be less likely to wander back to town. Fingers crossed.

Here is a little review of his summer in Gold Bridge, thanks to Mike Jensen, who has sent me some absolutely phenomenal pictures of our little friend.

Photo by Mike Jensen

Here's a picture of his Mom wandering in the area this summer. What a beautiful bear!

Photo by Mike Jensen

 Little Cinnamon in mid-August. Interesting how the white patch around his neck has gone away in the past few months.

Photo by Mike Jensen

Photo by Mike Jensen

Waking up from the sleep out in his new home. I think this is why he is licking his lips. The Conservation Officer, Bob, said that when the anaesthetic  effect lessens, the animal "wakes up" from the head down, meaning it will start licking and opening its eyes first, before it moves its limbs.

Photo by Mike Jensen

Most recent picture of the big guy. Looking healthy and ready for a long nap.

Driving to and from my little mountain home is one of my favourite things to do, and even though I don't clock much mileage when I am at home, it sure adds up any time I leave the town bounds; even a trip to the grocery store is an hour-and-a-half away!

Here are some of the pictures I was promising from my drive last weekend. There are also a few from my drive this Friday when a herd of mountain goats decided to cross the road right in front of my car. I am completely amazed by the amount of wildlife I have been seeing; part of the reason I predict that I will be rural-bound for many (probably all) of my future years.

Highway 40, looking towards Lillooet. No guard rails on the sides for most of the way. Many families in the Bridge River Valley have been touched by death out on the roads due to slippery conditions. If you go over the bank here, your chances aren't good. You plunge into an icy river, lake, or are just careened off the cliffside on your way down. Not a road to feel rushed on.

Standing at the edge of the road pictured above, looking over to the Bridge River.

Burned hillside from the 2007 fire laced with the stubble-like remains of trees. One of the best places to pick Chantrelle mushrooms is in a burn after a rain. In the spring it is lush and green as the fireweed blooms fresh and thick in the shadows of the burnt trees.

Icefalls. Amazing! A whole wall of icicles by the side of the road. I am keen to see what it looks like by the end of the winter season. Apparently a great spot for ice climbing once the ice thickens.

Mountain goats!

Sun illuminating a pastel cliff face. I love the colours of the landscape here; a melding of sparse timber, bare sand-coloured cliffs and blue sky.

Sun on the cliffs of the canyon, where the road hugs the river and the cliffs jut out overhead as one drives underneath. My favourite part of the drive.

Well, we are off to catch out connecting flight to London on leg two of the trip to Sri Lanka. I will write more soon. Thank you to everyone who has sent me emails telling me that they are enjoying this blog. I sincerely appreciate the support, and it's because of you I am keeping up with it all :) Feel free to comment after posts as well if you are interested. Happy Sunday all!

Rugged Weekend

It has been a whirlwind of a few days here, but apparently this lead-up to the Christmas holidays is always so for teachers. A couple of weeks ago I was feeling like I didn't need a break quite yet, and now it seems it can't come fast enough!

More practice of the play today. Wish me luck... it is on tomorrow night!

On Saturday I went herding horses with a local cowboy in town who has been a rancher for most of his life. It was AWESOME!!! We went with another couple, Ken and Shirley, who are newer to horseback riding but are very keen and recently moved to the valley from Pemberton; they are great folks. First we went to catch the horses out in the field before the long trek back to Barry's place. The whole ride took about 5 hours. Barry knows which horses are the "leaders" in the group, so those are the ones we rode while the rest followed, at times hesitantly and slowly in front of my yipping and yelling. I felt like a real cowgirl! We rode all the way from Gun Lake to Tyaughton Lake, which is a long way, as those of you who know the area can attest to. 

Click on the pictures for a larger view.

Walking across the lake to get the horses, who are in the white-covered field to the left of the picture. Four of the ten are white, so they blend right in.

Shirley with Pepper on the right, the beautiful white mare that I rode, waiting for the other lead horses to be caught. I can't remember the other horse's name. To catch the horses Barry would call for them and then take off his hat when they came near. They would come up to him to look inside and he would stroke their necks and halter them.

Leading them back to the truck to get saddled up. Barry tied one horse to the tail of another. If he had to do the run on his own he would tie up the four “lead” horses nose to tail so that the rest would follow their respective leaders.

Curious!

Barrie pulling some horseshoes. If left on the horses would get snowballs built up on their feet, which would make them slip around because they would be walking on a half-moon of snow once they reached the pavement.

Getting tacked up at the truck.

Ken with his steed. Shirley brought a little warm mulled wine, hence the red cup. It was great for loosening up before the long ride. We didn’t have a bridle for Ken’s horse so he rode with a halter the whole time. Cowboy Ken!

For the first half of the ride I rode with Barry and he twisted around to tell me stories of the area. Lucky me!

More stories...

My turn to keep them horses movin'.

Right after the ride I had to decline the dinner invite to get to a housewarming in Lillooet (1.5 hours away). But a REAL party, with REAL adult friends! I couldn’t say no. There was a “rugged” theme, and with lots of time to think and lots of old stuff in great supply out here, I came up with an idea for my costume. Darlene at the motel had an old rug around that she gave to me, and I cut it in half and tied the top corners so I could wear it like a rug billboard. I then cut out “id” from pink cardboard and stapled it to the top of the front panel of my rug outfit and I was done, literally wearing a rug and “id”. Worked for me.

Had an awesome time at the party, and then an early wake-up so that I could be back for the Turkey Bingo at the Gold Bridge Community Club, which was also where the second of our fieldtrip fundraising came in. There were about six turkeys to be won, as well as some money, and a few cheesecakes. I won a turkey, which will sit in my freezer until I convince my city-loving friends to travel up here en masse for a weekend of feasting and mountain adventures, or maybe I can host my family for Easter? We shall see. I suppose being almost 29 it’s probably my turn soon. And who knows, maybe I’ll live in terrain that is even less accessible once this contract is up.

I also got a BINGO during the final game, a blackout for a $100 prize, but I lost during the tie breaker (there were three simultaneous BINGOs, me being one of them). I would have donated the cash to the field trip fund, which would have felt good, but oh well. For the $8 price tag it was still an interesting way to spend an afternoon. The bingo cards were these antique-looking slider cards, probably left over from the boom-time up here. Got me thinking about when bingo was actually invented. I’ll have to do some research and get back to you on that.

I have lots more to share about the mouse, some Cinnamon Crunch updates, and some beautiful views from the highway between home and Lillooet, but it will have to wait. Need to get some rest before the big evening tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it all goes. Thanks for reading. For those of you who would like to subscribe so that you receive an email when there is a new post, you can sign up at the very bottom of the blog. Email me if you have any questions.

Sweet dreams or sunbeams, depending on when you read this. Wow am I ever a nerd! I can’t believe I just wrote that and I am leaving it! Yikes! I have been working on rhyme with the kids, so that’s my excuse this time… blame it on the rhyme. I’m cut off…

Week Before Xmas Break!

The students have been busily practicing their original play for this year's Christmas Dinner, which is an annual potluck event held at the Gold Bridge Community Club taking place on Tuesday, Dec. 13. We dedicated a lot of time this week to costume and prop preparation, as well as to practicing our lines without scripts. With just four students I am really impressed at the ideas we have come up with. It is called The Biggest Loser: North Pole Edition, which, for those of you who don't know, is a spin-off from the reality TV show The Biggest Loser where contestants who are overweight compete to see who loses the most. I have actually lived without TV for quite a few years now, so I was very excited when the kids knew exactly what I was talking about when I proposed the "biggest loser" idea for the play. We then wrote the script together, and it is hilarious.

I am the announcer for the play, and my first line goes:

Things at the North Pole had been slow lately. With the rise in popularity of internet ordering coupled with toy manufacturing being moved to China, Santa and his team were bored, depressed, and spending too much time on the couch watching TV and eating.


Curtains open to a very overweight elf, Santa, Mrs. Claus and Rudolph sitting on the couch, fighting over a bowl of popcorn and the remote. It is going to be quite funny.

This afternoon we also set up a little sales table at the post office/library to sell the cards, Christmas tags and bookmarks the kids have been making to fundraise for field trips. We also sold poinsettias for the Parent Advisory Committee and some lovely baked goods made by Sandy Oakley, my Teacher Assistant and right-hand woman. In an hour we raised over $215!!!!! Not bad! It was great practice for the kids' public speaking, as I got them to tell incoming post office customers all about what we were selling and why, and also encouraged them to make change and handle the cash. We are also selling our leftover wares at Turkey BINGO this Sunday.

Earlier in the week we had the unique experience of witnessing the skinning and packaging of meat from the doe. Super interesting. I had to phone a couple parents to ask if it was okay, and they were thrilled to have their kids participate. After all, it was quite the learning experience: anatomy, cooking, hands-on engagement. The kids were absolutely riveted, as was I. I thought there would be a lot more blood, but it was quite a clean operation, as the carcass had been hung up and bled for days, and the animal was gutted on the spot out in the bush so that it was easier to drag to the truck.

Kathy plans on using the skin to make moccasins, and she is even burying the head to keep the skull as a decorative item, which I appreciate. If one is going to take an animal from the earth, I think they should use as much of it as possible.

In class the next day we brainstormed some ideas for writing about the event, and the kids wrote the most elaborate and descriptive paragraphs I have seen from them yet! One thing I am learning is that their quality of writing is best when it is about something they have directly experienced, which is why I try to get them out of the room a couple of times per week followed on the subsequent days by journaling about the experience.

Below are a couple of pictures of the skinning in small size so that those of you who wish can easily skip over them. We also got to try deer tenderloin before we made our way back to the school; probably the best meat I have ever tasted!!!

WARNING: GRAPHIC PICTURES BELOW...


Click on the small pictures to see them in large size, if you're into that ;)

Kathy carefully cutting through the tissue that holds the skin on to preserve as much of the hide as possible.  

The kids are totally captivated!











Kathy skinning over the "kill shot", which was in the deer's upper shoulder.






Watching the meat being prepared and waiting for our lovely tenderloin to cook.








Kathy laying out the full hide.







The mouse has been back. It took tiny bites from the corner of the soap bar in the dish above the sink because that's all there was to snack on. I crammed tin foil into the opening where he was gaining entry and haven't seen him since. (Interesting how I assume all my animal visitors are "he"). Hopefully that's enough to keep him out. I have always wanted a pet snake, and the students seem very keen about the whole idea, so perhaps if mousey keeps hanging around he will become some snake food if I get one in the new year. I would have to rig some sort of live trap, but living out here demands innovation, and I have plenty of time on my hands and access to the internet for research; hopefully it doesn't come to that!

On Saturday I am helping an old-time cowboy in the area move his horses from where they were summered into the barn at his place. I'm looking forward to it as I haven't been in the saddle since I moved from Lillooet. After that I am headed to a housewarming party in Lillooet. It has been WAY too long since I've been to a house party! ;)

New Pet?

Grizz update: A few wonderful animal-loving Gold Bridge residents drove out to visit Cinnamon's drop-off point on the Hurley, where he would have awoken groggily on Saturday next to a gigantic pile of raw meat. Lucky bear! Apparently there were his tracks all over the place, and it was evident that he had eaten a large portion of his stash. (Cue happy dance). Hopefully a deer carcass can be found to drop off for the little guy. With a little help he might just make it through the winter, hopefully in a spot that is far outside of town. I have been looking out my windows every morning and evening to see if he has come back, so it was great to hear that he is gorging himself and camping out elsewhere. Fingers crossed...

One "pet" leaves, and another arrives. A mouse in the house. I opened the cupboard under the sink, my face nice and low because I was going to immediately grab the garbage pail to change the bag, and what is perched on the lip of the bucket, whiskers twitching and little grey body poised to dive into the score, eeeeeeeeeeeeek, a mouse! I actually let out a little scream, and it stood frozen for a minute and before scurrying back down through a crack between the wood and the sink pipe while I started laughing. It was SO CUTE! I quickly got to work, which never ends around here, and swapped out the "open" garbage pail for one with a very tight-fitting lid. I then put a lit on my well-washed recycling, swept the floor again, cleaned off all the counters and washed the sinks and changed all my dish cloths and towels. Hopefully we don't come face to face again, because I don't think relocation will be an option for this new pet.

First ski tour of the year on Sunday and it was AMAZING! Beautiful bluebird sky, good company, amazing new AT gear (AT stands for "alpine tour"--you stick "skins" onto the bottom of your skis and set your bindings to allow your heel to lift to climb uphill, then you take the skins off and lock your heel in to ski downhill). Simon and I sledded (aka snowmachined/snomobiled for the uninitiated... I am only just learning the proper lingo) up to Taylor Basin (I think?), practiced some beacon searching--good review from the avalanche course--and dug a snow pit once we reached the alpine, just for fun. We then nerded-out and talked about terrain versus avalanche potential and discussed our route. Good hike up, nice ski down, POWDER, although I am still getting used to my ski legs since switching over from snowboarding to gain easier access to certain terrain in the backcountry (sorry to you split-boarders, but tight trees coming down a mountain with the weight of an overnight pack on my back just doesn't work for me ;)

Lunchbreak before the ski down.

These skis are WICKED! Rossi S7s. They practically ski for me while still allowing some room for me to grow into them, which is good, because I certainly need the help at the start of a new season and hope to get lots of days of practice by the end!

Went into Lillooet with my entire school today, which consisted of one whole student! We went to spend the day at the elementary school I used to work at. We saw seventeen bald eagles perched atop trees by the river and one large bird of prey which I looked up in a gas station bird book and think was a peregrine falcon. There were also about forty swans swimming in Carpenter Lake where the lake meets the Bridge River, about 15 minutes drive from Gold Bridge. It was like a swan convention down there, where they meet up to gossip and talk all-inclusive lake options on their way south. Often on my evening walks I hear geese trumpeting across the valley as they come in for a dusk landing to rest for the night on the lake; it is so large--highway 40 follows it for at least 30 minutes of drive-time--it's no wonder migratory birds choose to rest there; perhaps it would stand out like a huge neon FOOD/BEER/MOTEL sign to a pack of 20-year-olds wandering down an otherwise barren country road on a Saturday night.

Now it's off to bed, and I finally get to help--by shouting encouragement of course--skin a doe tomorrow. I am interested in checking it out because I eat meat and have never had any experiences with the preparation of it. Yes, I'm a nerd. Good night and sweet dreams to Cinnamon, Mousy, and to the rest of you all :)

Weekend in a Mountain Town

People have been stopping by my house to give me heck about this bear, as if it is my fault that it likes hanging out on my property so much! I suppose that's a small town for you; people like to talk things up. One guy kept saying "you need to move this bear along. The bear needs to be moved along" and when I asked him for a suggestion of just how to do this when I don't have any bear bangers or rubber bullets he started to repeat himself.

The Conservation Officer (CO) in Lillooet, Bob, gave a local resident, Tom, some bear bangers and rubber bullets. I gave Tom a call yesterday and he came by and shot at the bear a few times and sent a couple of bangers its way. When it ran from my yard he got in his truck and chased it way up the mountain. It seemed like the whole town was out to watch.

This morning it was not back, so I went for a long walk on a ridge overlooking town with Sanford. (The ridge is on the other side of the river, so the bear was unlikely to be there). I saw a four-point buck and two doe up there; at one point all four of us were just staring at each other wondering who was going to make the next move. Maybe I'll try hunting next year; I seem to have lots of luck with finding deer. I also saw some small cat tracks, probably a lynx, which I followed for  while until I lost them in the snow. The tracks were pressed so lightly at times it was like following the ghost of a trail; when I walked from sun into shade I had to let my eyes adjust before I could see the tiny row of prints again.

Here is a view of the town from the ridge. The school is on the far left, just at the edge of the picture, General Store is the brown building on the far right, Bridge River in front.

Town and the mountains. 

Looking left, down the bridge river valley.

 And here is a picture of the beautiful buck.

Some pictures of Cinnamon that I was able to get during his extended stay.

Taking a nap in my backyard. 

When I returned from my walk I made some eggs for lunch and then noticed some guys in conservation uniforms had pulled up beside my yard fence. One of them had a gun of some sort (I certainly don't know my guns), and when I looked I noticed that Cinnamon was back at it picking away at the berries on my trees. The CO was able to get within ten feet of the bear before firing. I was expecting a much larger bang and was surprised the shot sounded so small.

The two gentlemen then moved their truck down to the lane beside my house where the bear had run, and, assuming it was safe I went out the front door and yelled over the bank.

"Is the bear dead?"

One of them replied "No. He is fast asleep though. You are welcome to come pet him if you like." They had hit him with a tranquilizer dart.

So, down I went and I got to pet a live grizzly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here are some pics.

They said that the bear was very skinny, and when I felt through his thick fur he was all skin and bones, only about 75 pounds, although with fur he looks to be a couple hundred. He is definitely starving, so that is why he is not hibernating; if he were to find a cave he would die in it over the winter. The COs said they would bring him as far as they could up the Hurley, and on their way they would stop by an old trapper's house who has a stash of some animal carcasses. They would lay the little bear down beside a pile of meat, and hopefully when he wakes up he will feast, and then if all goes well his hibernation instinct should kick in. I'm hoping this is the case, but Bob said that sometimes after being knocked out an animal will just get up and run when it finally comes to. If he comes back to town again they will shoot him with a bullet, although in his state I think the wolves or coyotes will get him before he has the chance to wander back.

The COs stopped by my place on their way to dinner to let me know that they drove the bear a good 20 km up the Hurley and piled about 50 pounds of meat next to him. They left when he started to wake up. We made a wager on how long it would take him to get back here. I said he wouldn't be back... we shall see...

First day skiing tomorrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm psyched... what an amazing life I lead!