June 29 2012 .....Not Much Going On.

     Well I have set a record of sorts for the longest stretch without posting something, looks like it has been a month at least. This is certainly easier to keep up when the days are shorter and I'm inside more. I used to sweat it if I didn't post something for a few weeks, dissapointing a fan or two out there in internet land, and its not like money comes pouring in when I ramble on and post pictures from around the 'yard'. So if I post something that is fine, but if not I'm not worrying myself over it anymore. I have some stories unrelated to the hot spring that may start to show up soon too.
    On the other hand, I keep interrupting my usual work and wanderings and wondering if I should stop and compose a picture, all the time with some witty commentary going on in my head, and it is a wonder I get anything done around here any more.
I keep waiting for a really nice day and something exciting to happen to post about. But most days just blend into the other out here with not too much out of the ordinary.
    For instance. Since the hikers I wrote about last month clomped past there has been practically nothing noteworthy to write about. I was standing around one day waiting for something to happen. Pretty soon I remembered something that has been bugging me for a long time, and maybe I would go do that until something unfolded to report on.
   Without getting into a lot of detail believe me when I say years ago a large flat rock had been brought in and placed next to a favorite hanging out spot at the base of a near by waterfall. You by now have a mental picture of what a 'large flat rock' might look like, but I can assure you,  this one is considerably larger. It was set in there, leveled up and stayed there for many years, serving as a surface to enjoy the magic waterfall. During one of the worst winter storms I've seen out here the higher than normal crashing water at the base of the falls washed it out underneath and it tilted down towards the creek, almost too steep to stand on, and it gave you a wedgie if you tired to sit on it. This bugged me considerably the past several years. When nothing else was going on that is.
I knew how to fix it, but it was quite far down the list, until now.

I fired some light rigging into the box on the quad and proceeded to a nearby area, parking and hoofing it in from there with the jacks, chains, come-along and thermos of tea.

 Hmmm.....

This will never do.

Don't attempt this at home. Using the 5 ton shop floor jack gave me the creeps, because I had to operate it on the lower side and was afraid of the slab coming down and pinning me in that cold water for a week or so. A considerable time could go by before anyone missed me and a search was initiated. My cats would be the first to wonder what the hell. Safety first.

I knew this come-along was a little on the light side but it was easier to carry. It will pull a couple tons, then I run the cable to a pully and back which doubles the pull. Chained to a large stump it was pretty much all it could do to budge the rock slab, and pretty much at its safe limit. A good rule to follow is that if you can operate a tool by hand you are ok, but if you put a 'snipe', or short pipe over the handle for extra leverage, you are asking for trouble. I would get as much force on it as I could then go around the front of the rock with a long steel pry bar underneath and manage to move it a little at a time, then go tighten the line again.

It took a few tries to get the chain on the rock slab properly. The jacket draped on the cable slows it whipping back should it break, hopefully only partially maiming me.

Well I am now much happier with the off kilter rock situation. When the water drops I'll go back with a bottle jack and do a little more shimming underneath for a large level area.
One less thing on my mind, and just in time for those hot summer afternoons!

You think you have a big lawn. Theres not really much reason to mow the airstrip, I just prefer how it looks from the 'lodge', and I do use it as a frequent route down to the hotspring campsite.
Great way to work on your tan in nice weather too.

 That nice weather brought on the seasonal melt on the snowpack, bringing the river level up, it begins like this. This is a spill channel of the main Lillooett River, which is glacier fed and that green color. I can spend a lot of time looking at it waiting for something to happen too. The clear water on the right comes down the mountain above, the same one I generate electricity with, the two intermingle here.
Nicest swimming hole in the territory, but cold.

Overnight it can fill the entire channel.

 SkoOk, ChUk, and ChYk have all enjoyed the 'crossing log' out front.

This cedar was hauled over by hand and layed across the creek just below the main cabin 17 years ago and is still there. Over the years I have seen maybe hundreds of people fall off it into the water, myself accounting for a rather high percentage of those dunkings.

Wildlife use it, I've caught several bears, including this little guy last week.
He just comes over to eat grass, we get along fine.

This is still just normal high water but floats the log loose, I have it chained to a stake on this side so it can swing if need be but can't go too far.

 As soon as the water crests and begins to drop you need to get the other end of the log back in place while it is floating and easy to handle. I'm not going to relate how I took two long poles to use as stabalisers and attempted to walk across the floating log a few days ago to put it back in place. Well ok.... As I neared the skinny end of the log the floating soon turned to bobbing and rolling and a certain degree of sinking  I remembered then that was the same thing happened to me last year. Once more, I ending up taking a cold swim the last part and having to drag myself up the far bank with the aid of some kind of bush with prickles, and it took 2 days to dry my boots. You think I would have learned by now, and thank god no one saw me!

The receeding water leaves driftwood on the lower lawn that gets fired back into the creek to complete its journey or into the woodpile.

Well, as you can see, I had killed quite a bit of time and still bugger all had happened to write about.
Maybe I better go for a wander over on  the island.
You can rock hop over there most of the year on foot, but it is more exciting during high water.
It helps to have your own secret cable trolley to get there.

I had a roll of cable sitting around here from construction of the power system years ago.
Naturally I had to stretch it across the channel to the island, pulling it tight with a backhoe from this end and hung a wheeled trolley on it. I'm the only kid on the block with one. People often ask why I went to the effort. I tell them because I couldn't find a long enough log to reach! 

Dangling in mid point looking out towards the main river, always a cool breeze on a hot day out here.
It is always a gas pulling myself across but harder work than you may think, and gloves are a must.
Something that I always do when the water is high is undo the laces on my boots before going out, in the remote chance you end up in the water, this allows you to kick them off and greatly improves the odds at getting out.

Mid point looking upstream towards Cloudraker Mtn.

The best part about a secret trolley to a secret island is that no one knows where it is!

 A great exploring area over there on my secret, mossy island.

You can travel quite a bit on fallen logs like this and never touch the forest floor.

This old cedar always fascinates me. On the far side of the island there are several old stumps, trees that were fallen towards the river and sent downstream by men working by hand. Just a few choice trees that would land partially in the river, likely the work of locals 80 years ago. They would chop an under cut with axes to direct the tree to the river, then finish the cut from the other side with a saw. They undercut into this particular old cedar and found the core soft, so it was left.
The men that swung this axe are long gone, and the now hollow old snag has attempted to heal over the wound.

This is at top end of the Island, here it splits the flooding river in mid stream, to the left is the main river, the right flows down past the lodge.
I better get back home in case I miss something exciting.

Next day I found this couple on the side of the road not far away, trying to use their cel phone. The heavy laden van bottomed out and the oil pan contacted a rock embedded in the road, splitting the aluminium engine block open. Sorry, no service.

This nugget had their name on it, you can see the metal stuck to it.

Bang, and left a trail of oil down the road, thats a $600 tow bill out of this country, plus repairs.

A few days ago we had a gig to play over in Whistler, I stopped for a leak by the lake and took this pic.

The occasion  was a 150 person private corporate party.
 

Two thirds of Blackwater MC, front man Josh and bass Ross converse backstage.

 A beautiful location to play Josh's original music.

File this under shameless plug. The event was hosted at this lakeside facility.

Lead man Josh works here doing river kayak trips and interesting stuff.
We played for our dinner, which are often the best gigs.
Josh has the opportunity to chat up a lot of young women in his travels, I'm not so sure he tells them the guys he 'rocks out with' are both pushing 60, and one of those is pushing from the other side!



The next day several big black vehicles wheeled into the yard here and disgorged an entourage from the BC Treaty Commission, out for a scheduled tour of the hot spring and surrounding area, it being included in the native treaty going on in the valley. A new chief negotiator was stepping in to the treaty process that is in its final stages, and he was out seeing the remote territory for the first time. Three generations of the Trethewey family have had amicable relations with the local Inshuckch peoples, and support their efforts at the negotiating table. 



There was quite a big wind last weekend bringing down several trees around. I hadn't been over to check the pelton wheel that generates electricity for the place for awhile. I go there today to find a tree top has come down and clobbered the pelton wheel shack. Dang.

Dirty bastard. Looks like I will have something to do while I'm waiting for something to happen around here.

Blackwater MC have another gig tonight. Rockin' the Pemberton Hotel, 9-2am.
I'll leave here with my gear at 6, and come rolling back in again when its light out at 4am., provided I don't get more than one flat tire or fall asleep and drive into the lake.
A Canada Day long weekend too, the campsite down at the hot spring could be busy.
Maybe something will happen there to write about. I'll keep you posted.

I better get some rest.
                                                                                                                                                                  

May 24 2012 Douglas Trail Hikers, Gig At Stl'atl'imx.

I have some high level guests passing through right now enjoying the legendary Lodge hospitality.
I can't tell you who they are, I'm bound by a confidentiality clause.
....This is their helicopter arriving...
....from Whistler.

...they got the famous Hotspring Lodge blueberry pancakes for breakfast...
.....and dinner cooked over the fire.
I can't tell you any more. I've said too much already.
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The kids hiking the old Douglas gold rush trail finally came through this week. It is an annual deal that started in the 1970's that has brought school kids out for a week to follow the gold rush trail.

I had raked up and seeded where the bear had been digging and mowed it to get my section of heritage trail in good order. Word from down the valley was there were 6 groups of students from lower mainland high schools following the footsteps of the 1859 gold miners.
The trail passes by close to the Lodge and over the years I've put out a sprinkler for the hikers to run under on a hot day, or a water hose there to refill containers. This year I took advantage of the free advertising.

Unlike those before them, this group made the mistake of stopping when I came roaring out to make sure they all took note of the blog address.
"Group up!", the leader said when I demanded  a picture, and they all fell into position.
So there you are guys, I told you I was going to make you semi famous!
I also told them I would meet them at the "Lookout", the 'lookout' being, 'Col. Moody's Lookout'.
After the initial pack trail was hacked through the valley by miners the previous year, the Royal Engineers were sent out in 1859 to improve and widen the trail, the first highway project in British Columbia.
The specifications called for it to be, "...wide enough for two loaded mules to pass".

 Beyond the hot spring a few 'miles' on the old trail it deviated from the road's current location next to the river and followed a draw up and over into Rogers Creek. (Sachteen) There was a spot that it was possible to climb up and get a good view both up, and down valley.

                                                      Lt. Palmer R.E.
Lt. H. Spencer Palmer wrote in his July 1859 report to Col. Moody, Chief Commissioner of Lands and Works, and Governor Douglas after a traverse of the route, "...the trail branches to the right and ascends a gorge between the mountain on the right and a high rocky bluff (named in my plan "Moody's Look-Out") on the left."
Locals referred to the site as (S)CWI'TEN.
( * 'Sweeteen', also known locally as Whispering, or Singing Rock)

In the mid 1970's, a teacher began to bring groups of students out to the head of Harrison Lake to follow remnants of the original gold rush trail up valley as far as the old 29 Mile House location, where the miners loaded their belongings on a paddle wheeler that travelled the length of Lillooett Lake.
I've never figured out if a student's inclusion in the Douglas Portage hike was considered a reward, or a punishment of some sort.
At some point years ago, someone decided when the students reached Moody's Lookout they should hike up the adjacent steep rocky pinnacle as a challenge, each carrying a rock to deposit on a growing pile at the top. Each rock has a personal message and a name or whatever in felt tip pen. It is a challenging ascent for the students out of the city, whom have just hiked for 3-4 days from the site of the old Port Douglas townsite. It is a rewarding view and a badge of honour to leave behind a written on rock up there, and I'm not so sure they have a choice. Several times over the years I have hooked up with a group and climbed the steep route, often challenging the youngsters to a race. A long time ago, I decided I was not as young as I once was, and discovered that if I followed a near by unused logging road I could park and traverse overland, intersecting the students well beaten trail near the top and arriving there long enough to have a sandwich before the 'kids' started to arrive, breathing hard and surprised to see a composed Mr. Trethewey sitting there. 

"I'll give you buggers a head start", I told this years victims, setting them up, then waited until I figured they were far enough down the road to forget about that crazy old guy back at the hot spring property. 
I hopped on my summer horse of choice, and raced off in pursuit of the teenage hikers.
By chance they happened to be 'grouping up' again a ways down the road at the base of logging road T200, which is not far from where they begin the 'torture trek' up the lookout trail, and instrumental in my scheme to get even anywhere near the lookout before any of these youngsters. I raised my hand in a theatrical right turn signal and pulled in front of the group as I pointed my steed up T200 logging spur.
"See you at the summit kids!", I believe were my words as I passed by.

 Moody's Lookout, center.

Up at about the third switchback, at my secret shortcut. I parked my steed and contemplated the approximate direction to the Moody Lookout trail.

                               Horsey, sit... stay!

 I have to admit, it has been a number of years since I last challenged someone less than a third of my age to a race up a mountainside. The exact route of my deception had become rather vague. I clambered across the rugged side hill in the afternoon heat, hearing the odd shout from below, and giggling to myself at what a sly old fox was I. Not too far into my escapade I realise nothing looks familiar, but I expect to intersect the 'Lookout trail' at any time, and not wanting to leave tracks I decided to cut uphill, climbing a steep, mossy hillside and hand to handing it up narrow rocky ledges seeking a spot to get a bearing on things. I soon realised that this had turned into more of an adventure than I had originally figured on, and I better keep my wits about me and avoid anything so simple as a twisted ankle. I didn't think much about that when I was younger, but now a days, getting back in one piece from my little sorties into the hills is my prime concern, the first thing I did was reach around and turn my radio off, conserving the batteries for any possible emergency, and if needed to try and get word out to my celebrity guests expecting dinner back at the Lodge.
I finally got up onto a knob of rock that I could see from.

Neat shot down valley showing Icecap Mtn., and you can see the airstrip down there back at home, but I could tell I was way too high and the Lookout area was much lower down to the right. I gave up any notions of catching up to those young buggers and began to carefully pick my way down the steep drops and mossy boulder fields, just concentrating on getting out safely.
New, unexplored country, and a few times I heard Sasquatch drumming, which is very similar to the sound grouse make.
Soon I hear voices and discover young people gathered around a heap of rocks.
Well damned if I hadn't dropped down off the mountain and landed right on top of a fresh party of hiker kids just landed at the Lookout, I wish I could attribute it more to good management, and not good luck.
Unexpected, I was able to walk up quite close, deciding to test the 'bear readiness' of an unsuspecting city girl, absorbed with writing on her rock. I parted the pines, and said, "Woof!".
By the response, her bear readiness skills where in good working order, but she may be needing some therapy next week.

 The rock pile is bigger now than I recall last time I was up, each one with a message

"Group up!" the team leader called and they all fell into position, even the dog.

So I departed the summit before I had to answer too many questions about how I got there. The trail was quite steep, but well worn in from 30 years of occasional use and preferable to the boulder fields I had been playing in all afternoon. All the way down I'm looking for the 'familiar' looking area where I cut off back to my patiently waiting motorbike. All of a sudden I come to level ground, this can't be right.
Then I hear kids voices as I break out of the brush and onto the power line.

Oh for crying out loud, I've come the whole way down the mountain by accident. Here are several groups 'grouping' before, or after their assault on the summit. I snapped a picture, then disappeared into the bush before anyone saw me, I think.

I bushwhacked my way over to T200 logging road, getting sticks in my hair, burrs in my shorts and scratched all to hell.  Some bloody smart idea I had to take a short cut to the Lookout. I hike way above it out of my way, damn near to the snowline, then follow the trail back down to the bottom, leaving me to hike way the hell up the logging road for my bike, leaving a trail of sweat the entire way.
Looks like today the joke was on me.
Shoot that's a steep road......

...and after approximately 3 switchbacks, and the excruciatingly long steep sections between I see my trusty mount waiting for me.  

I suppose if it were a real horse it would have come when I whistled.

By the time I got back on my bike my knees felt like they were bending in both directions, and I was ready for an impromptu nap right there on the rocks.
I arrived back at the lodge in time to entertain my celebrity guests over happy hour, and got the fire going in time for a fashionably late dinner.

*A funny thing I forgot to mention, after all that work I put into 'my' section of heritage trail, no one walked on it. For some reason in recent years the hike route out of the hot spring campsite has been onto and down the airstrip, totally missing a nice section of original trail. I know because there is only deer and bear tracks in the areas I raked. I suppose thats alright too, it is a spectacular walk down the 'strip towards the Lodge.

Douglas Portage Heritage Trail, lot 1747. 2012
                                                                       ********

Rockin' the Statlmx

On the 12th Archie Peters, Ross Edwards and myself were on the bill to play at the Statlmx nation gathering held up at D'Arcy. It is a pretty big deal with hundreds of people and includes 11 of the areas bands, as in Indian bands, who's traditional lands encompass a vast mountainous region.

Stop along Lillooett Lake on the drive out.

 At Mount Currie you turn north, D'Arcy is about or 35 scenic minutes up the road.

Downtown D'arcy

I took this from the stage as we were setting up, a bow and arrow target shooting competition, and if I'm not mistaken, the bow and arrows were made up right on the spot.

We had the prime 1 hour slot after dinner, with a set that ran from Santana, renditions of Louie Louie, Just My Imagination, a Chuck Berry tune, some gritty blues and winding up with Baby Don't Go, which morphed into a spectacular train wreck of a drum solo, culminating in Ross dodging a flying broken drumstick!

Ross Edwards, Robin T, Archie Peters.
It was another late night by the time the Safari tour bus pulled back into the Lodge.

PS. There is a better link for some tunes Josh and I (Blackwater MC) did at a studio back awhile.
http://soundcloud.com/blackwatermc

PS also, if anyone associated with organising the Douglas Portage hike reads this, please contact me.

Hummingbirds El Loco

    I have pretty much always put a feeder out for the hummingbirds, and  look forward to the end of April when the first one comes and looks frantically in the window to let me know they have arrived. The numbers vary year to year but seem to run between 20 and 30 of the buggers at the height of their season, although they are most difficult to count. I'm careful to leave the Lodge doors closed, they sometimes hover in to look, then head for one of the skylights and proceed to buzz themselves out up there against the glass. I forget how many I've had to rescue from up there over the years.
I use a fishing net with an extra long handle taped to it.

The proper name for a group of them is 'charm', not buggers.
You could watch them for hours from the deck hot tub.

They know who is charge of the sugar, and know how to get my attention through the window if the feeder should run dry.

It is not at all unusual for them to go through 3 feeder fulls a day.

Like little flying piranhas, they meet you at the door and start in before you even get a chance to put it back on the peg.

When SkoOk and ChUk were young they were fascinated of course, but soon learned there were easier and more worthwhile meals to be had.

Having a cloud of them around is just normal to me, and I always get a kick out of visitor's reactions, there has been a thousand pictures taken and hours of movie of my 'charming little buggers'.
Usually towards the end of July, or beginning of August one day the numbers suddenly dwindle off.
So far as I know they head back to their Winter home in Mexico.
By then I'm tired of buying sugar and mixing it up and keeping the feeder filled and as good a company as they are, like freeloading relatives, I'm always glad to see them move on.

May 6 2012

    Over the past few weeks I've been working a little bit on the section of the "Old Douglas Trail" that passes through the property, bucking up some overgrowth and running it into the wood chipper.

Lt. Palmer of the Royal Engineers wrote in 1859, of this very section, "....Upon leaving the 'Hot Spring House', the trail runs for one mile along a broad flat about 10' above the level of the Lillooett River, ...this flat is rather rocky and the soil light and sandy..".
The old Douglas Portage was the first route to the goldfields in 1858 and a Heritage Trail. There are sections of it left in the valley which I would like to hike this year and write a post about.
Every year since the mid 1970's groups of high school students from the lower mainland have hiked the route every May. This years batch are due in a week or so and I've always felt responsible for keeping up the section of old trail that enters the property line at the south, and comes up past the hot spring and continues past the Lodge to the north.



Last Fall there was some mining exploration going on way up one of the local watersheds, the helicopter crew was boarding here and you may recall mention of them on my very first post. They got snowed out at the end of the season in November up at the camp location. They had to abandon two trailers that were part of the camp complex due to deep snow and worsening conditions. It is located 14 km up a near by valley at about 670m (2200') elevation, and subject to heavy coastal snow pack conditions. I was eager to get up there to look when the snow receded enough and before they resumed operations.

The trusty Honda quad never missed a beat and the air conditioning worked just fine, looking down valley.
A week from now a comfortable tent camp will be set up here for the 2012 season.

Hard to believe the entire area was under snow weeks ago, enough snow to completely bury an RV trailer.

Both trailers got crinkled by the snow load. Ouch


Its that time of year again when my bear friends come to hang around and indulge on my grass.

It will be a pretty common occurrence to look out any time for the next month or so and see a bear grazing.

They paw around uprooting vast areas of sod digging up bugs. I wish they would go do it someplace else.

They supplement the grass with what ever lives in these little burrows. A wasp or something, note at the top of the frame how they deftly rake it out with their claws..

 ChUk and ChYk enjoy a walk down by the water.

New cat ChYk, trying out her camouflage.

Looks like the lawn is going to grow again this year, and dug out the push mower today. I had rather hoped it wouldn't, every year I try to ignore it, but it grows anyways. Once you start its a never ending cycle until the end of October. I'll get the ride 'em mower out of mothballs this week to do the airstrip.