TRAVELLING HIGHWAY 3 THROUGH B.C.

On Sunday, July 15, we rolled away from the newly painted de Waal residence in our own newly painted Raoul. Our pickup was so bright and blue and clean, we felt we were in a new vehicle. And so we zipped away from the mad rushing of the citizens of the Lower Mainland and headed back to the prairies, a world apart from the culture by the sea.

The heat followed us all the way to Manitoba and sometimes we couldn’t tell if the air rushing through the rolled down windows was making us hotter or cooler. As we descended into Canada’s only desert, the heat weighed heavily on us, pushing us further into our seats, making every movement onerous.


Now we experience camping in the heat

We arrived in Osoyoos just before the tourist info centre closed and picked up a map and some tips on where to camp. We were informed that the provincial campground, probably the most scenic and one of the cheaper ones, was full. (The first time we overnighted in Osoyoos two years ago, we stayed on Haynes Point and thought $20 was brutally expensive for tenting. Now we know it’s reasonable, especially for a beautiful place like that. Too bad the parks guy was so obnoxious.) Being the middle of July, the entire town was crawling with tourists, their boats and massive RVs (gotta hate those HUGE RVs) and all the campgrounds were crowded and the cheaper ($25 or so) sites were extremely unattractive. At one place, we were offered a chunk of grass directly behind a hall of arcade machines and sandwiched between a giant RV and the campground’s only road. After driving up and down the road several times, we finally decided to check out a place that looked slightly shifty, because it had motel rooms and campsites. Yet as we pulled in, the owner saw our beautiful bright blue truck and immediately started chatting it up with Eric about Nissans. By the end of the conversation the fellow was asking if we would sell it to him.

Tamri Motel and Campground turned out to be the cheapest at $24, included free showers and was the only place not jam-packed with people, making our stay very pleasant. The campground was next to the lake and the wind ripped at our tent all night; we could feel the nylon walls billow and shake. Unfortunately, despite its fierceness, the wind didn’t make it through our vestibule’s open zippers to cool our bodies and we sweltered. The free showers came in handy the next morning.

Having just read about the recently created and very unique Nk’Mip Desert Cultural Centre in Osoyoos, we made it a priority to check it out. The architecture and overall design were beautiful! We didn’t have enough time to explore the trails at the centre, but we did attend a cool and kinda creepy presentation on rattlesnakes. Turns out they are not the devils everyone makes them out to be. We also took a quick tour of the Nk’Mip cellars located next door, but didn’t have funds for a visit to the Spirit Vineyard Resort and Spa, tucked between the other two attractions.


Hippies or not?

From Osoyoos, we headed to Nelson, the alleged hippie hot spot of B.C., or maybe Canada. Although we’d driven Highway 3 before, and visited Ainsworth Hot Springs and Kaslo on our honeymoon, we’d never been to Nelson, due to it’s slightly out-of-the-way location nestled in between, but detached from main highways. Throughout our travels on the coast, we heard almost constant exclamations of Nelson’s amazingness. As we listened to everyone’s raving, we even imagined ourselves settling in during the summer and enjoying the lake and the beach and hippies. But it was not to be.

Our first encounter was one of ambiguous signage, near-vertical streets and a closed tourist info centre (it was after 7 p.m. or so). The one in-town campground that we finally managed to find (after driving in circles, arguing vehemently about which way to turn, and finally stopping at a gas station to pee and ask for directions) was also packed, although we were again offered a tiny chunk of grass for our tent and a separate teeny space for our truck. We decided to drive the 15 minutes out of town toward a provincial campground – Kokanee Creek (and just so you know, kokanee is a kind of salmon, not just a beer). We knew it was the middle of summer, but we hoped that since it was a Monday night, some places would be available. We breathed sighs of relief when the parks attendant said we could have a site in the overflow camping area, which was 10 times nicer than the place in town. Lots of space, nice grass, picnic table, nearby flush toilets and a minute walk from the lake. After another hot and sticky night, we were able to cool off with a dip.

We browsed around the main street of Nelson that morning, but didn’t have any divine encounters with radical hippies or even not-so-radical hippies. The streets weren’t flowing with marijuana and Bob Marley wasn’t sweetly serenading the downtown crowd as we had expected. And the tall mountains make the area feel very closed in and somewhat claustrophobic (Eric has to admit he would miss the sky, after all his years spent on the prairies). We aren’t saying we didn’t like Nelson; and we would like to visit there again. But, we were a little disillusioned.


Alberta and beyond

So, we continued on to Alberta, having been out of that province for a full five months. It was both familiar and strange, after being on the coast for so long. What can we say? The politics, attitude and viewpoints of the population in general just don’t agree with us. But, we have many great friends in Alberta who also don’t necessarily agree with the viewpoints of their own province. So for now, we’ll keep visiting. And their highways are kept up pretty well (compared to Saskatchewan and Manitoba).

We stopped at Mill Creek camp for the night and visited with many of our friends who all happened to be working there for the summer. And the pirate ship is still looking good, even after three summers of use. We spent a couple days in Lethbridge and Coaldale, catching up with friends and family. Then we spent another day driving in the heat. Our clothes stuck to our bodies and we felt like were sitting in puddles. And having to keep the windows rolled down (so we wouldn’t suffocate) meant that random bees and other flying insects would get sucked into the truck and poke us in the arms or neck or shoulders with their kamikaze bodies. Between the random stabbings and pools of sweat, we finally made it to Rachel’s parents’ place in Manitoba, just north and west of the Saskatchewan border and south of the Trans Canada Highway.

We had a few family events coming up in the next few weeks and of course Rachel’s parents had projects for Eric, too. But at that point – July 22, 2007 – we didn’t expect to be in the Kola area for much longer than a couple months. We expected to move to Saskatoon and make big bucks flipping houses; or maybe work in the area just long enough to save funds for our next travelling adventure; or maybe we’d continue straight on to Nova Scotia and its boat culture. Little did we know . . .