Wednesday 17 November 2021

A Stellar Day

 "You're having a stellar day!" exclaimed my husband on our way home. I'd been giggling over our latest two experiences of the day.

First of all, we climbed up the Peach Cliff trail in Okanagan Falls.

This is the rocky outcrop of Peach Cliff, with a 600 m rockface, as seen from our condo parking lot. When it was first suggested that we climb up to the satellite tower, it looked impossible. How can we get up that cliff, I thought. 
The All Trails app, however, revealed a more gradual ascent, on the back side.
OK, I thought. This is our last day here. We've got to do this.


After a bit of a steep climb, the path levelled out and wound through a Ponderosa pine "forest", which looked like a former Boy Scout camp, with little lean-tos made of scavenged dead wood.







A ramshackle shed nearby was full of trays of rock core mining samples, remnants of an old mine. I later found out it was the Dusty Mac Mine, which produced silver and gold from 1969-1976.

















We even saw our condo from the top! I think this shot is enlarged a bit. We're very near Skaha Lake.
I was thrilled when I finally spotted the cell tower. It had taken us an hour to get to that point, and seemed easier than the trail exactly a week before. The steep sections seemed more manageable.
After documenting reaching the summit and congratulating me, Terry had a surprise idea.
"I'm going to call Bruce and Val, and we can wave at each other!"


That little dot in the purple circle is Val, standing in her driveway at the mobile home park underneath Peach Cliff. She's looking up on the cliff side, that looked so scary from below. When Bruce came out, we all waved at each other. I wonder how well Bruce saw us through his binoculars.










Terry wanted to take me out for lunch in Penticton, about 20 minutes away. I readily agreed, despite the food in our fridge that was supposed to be eaten up before we left for Alberta. It wasn't exactly 20 minutes to the restaurant, though, as we had to find it first. We drove further and further downtown, until we came to Okanagan Lake, at the other end of Penticton. The GPS was not at all helpful towards the end. 
We went around the block 3 times before we finally found The Prague Cafe. There was no sign at all, except for a small notice on the door, that you had to walk up to, to see. Just like the little "hole in the wall" shops in the Czech Republic. 
My sandwich was the most delicious Caprese sandwich on a croissant, equally yummy as the first one I'd ever had in the San Francisco Area more than five years ago. 

Michal, the owner, was born in Prague, and I shared where my parents were born. We even conversed in Czech, as he lapsed into his native language, explaining how he had made the gingerbread cake. 

It looks quite ordinary, but oh, it was tasty. I asked him where he bought his spices, knowing they came in little envelopes, specially mixed for pernik, gingerbread cake. Surprise, he just bought his spices individually--cinnamon, clove, nutmeg , ginger, and sometimes cardamom and anise. I think his secret was the long mixing, to properly blend all the spices. 
I'm going to try his method when I get home.

The other cake is a kolach ( phonetical spelling, as I don't know how to access the accents) with blueberries. It was ok, but they are best fresh out of the oven. 

I was 'over the moon' with my unexpected cultural experience,
 really glad I had forgotten the A & W coupons at home. 
It was unusual for Terry not to get upset as he kept going 'around the block', which was not at all rectangular in shape as a block should be. It was also unusual that he agreed to try a new eating experience, rather than sticking to chain restaurants. 
It was in the car on the way home as I burbled on and on about Michal and his cafe, that Terry made the comment, "You're having A Stellar Day." 

I'd say a Five Star Day!

Wednesday 10 November 2021

Tackling the Oliver Tower Viewpoint Trail

First things first. We had a job to do this morning. Preparing apples was different than at North Okanagan Valley Gleaners. We only had to remove the stems, cut out the scabs and bruises, and give the apples a quick rinse. Terry was one of the people coring the apples. Then the chunks were put into the dicer, spread on cookie sheets, and put into the dryer.


Our morning's work was finished so quickly, I suggested an adventure before we drove the 20 minutes back to Okanagan Falls. "Let's go check out the hiking trails above Fairview," I said. "It's going to be showery for the next few days."
Terry looked up his All Trails app, and found a trail. Parking at the bottom of a steep cliff, we gazed up and saw a well-worn path of scree, large loose rocks and sand. This is it? I thought. Talking briefly to a hiker striding down confirmed it. 
"You can go straight up here, or around where it's not so steep. I find it a great workout twice a week," he said.

We decided to just go up. "I just want to see what's on the other side of this ridge. You know, like the song":        The bear went over the mountain....
                  To see what he could see... 
                  And all that he could see...
                  Was the other side of the mountain..."

The first thought that crossed my mind as I plodded through the deep sand was I'm not as fit as I was on the White Goat Falls trail  ten years ago. Terry had been so impressed at the time, and called me a mountain goat. Today I had to stop every once in a while to catch my breath and still my pounding heart. Terry kept asking anxiously, "Are you all right?" 

Finally at the top of the gravelly part, we reached the ridge. That's where we saw the "other side of the mountain." You can see how difficult it was to wade through this loose stuff. 













Already the view from the ridge was looking spectacular

As the path levelled out, long-needled Ponderosa pine trees dotted the dry hillside. No sounds, but we did see and hear a covey of quail at the bottom of the hill. Here and there clumps of tiny, low-lying
Prickly Pear cactus peeked through the long grass.

 

















Rusty remnants of an ancient fence


"Look up, there's the tower!"  
I didn't know there was a destination to this climb. I didn't know the trail was called the Oliver Tower Viewpoint Trail. But I made it up there, 3.7 km, 830 feet up, on the top of this "mountain."
From that vantage point, you could see all over the valley. 
Various trails meandered down the mountain, so it was much more relaxing on the way down.

When we got to the bottom, Terry again said, " You did great, I'm impressed!" 
For me, a little encouragement goes a long way!


Tuesday 9 November 2021

Gleaner Adventure Part Two

 Let's backtrack a bit from yesterday's post, and explain why we're in the Okanagan, in November, no less. 

We weren't planning to be in this part of the world, at this time of the year, but an offer came up that we couldn't refuse. We were given a condo to stay in, with a suggestion that we work at the Gleaner's, the one in the south Okanagan that we hadn't been to yet. We liked that idea, so here we are. 

 We didn't know we would be thrust into the tail end of a week of actual soup mixing. This was an aspect of the whole gleaning process that we hadn't yet experienced . 

Here is a picture of the set-up we found ourselves in:




It's a metal shelf with a COVID shield separating masked people on both sides. Not exactly a conveyor belt, more like a shuffleboard. The white stuff you see is salt, to facilitate the buckets sliding down the "runway".









I'm there in my trusty purple cashmere work sweater, with Terry behind me. I'm scooping lentils into a yellow bucket as it comes shooting towards me, every three seconds! Terry is scooping dried carrots. Because he's only the third person in line, his bucket occasionally tips over, it's so light. I have to be on my toes to scoop my lentils before the next bucket comes sliding along. If too many buckets stall together, they're more likely to tip over. Eventually I get into the rhythm of putting out my left arm to intercept the carrot bucket, while scooping with my right hand into the lentil barrel. A man off to the side keeps his eyes on my barrel, always making sure it's full, so I don't have to strain my back leaning down too much. That's valuable servanthood on the sidelines. 

See the big square bin? It was two-thirds full when we started, and we went through about one and a half in a morning.

I was so thrilled with this fast-paced operation I refused all offers to have someone take my place, despite the fact that by the end of the morning the fingers of my right hand seemed permanently fused in place. And despite the fact that, as a newbie, I had probably displaced someone who regularly worked on the line. But they humoured me, and I toughed it out. We did have a stretch break after half an hour, and then a welcome coffee break. Despite the chilly weather, most of us sat outside bundled up in tuques and warm jackets. That's what you do during COVID, right?

The part I didn't see was the actual bagging.   The buckets, which now contained dried potatoes, beets, carrots, lentils, barley, peas, salt, and other mixed vegetables, were tipped through a large funnel, into sturdy plastic  5 kg bags, and sealed. I had taken part in this aspect at the North Okanagan Gleaners in Lavington., B.C.                                      

All these dried vegetables flying around creates a lot of dust, so we spent the next day washing walls and floors. I had to laugh to myself. When I heard we would be cleaning, I said to myself, But I'm not washing walls! God has a sense of humour. That was the very job I was assigned. I did my best to eliminate all traces of dust in my section of wall.

Stay tune for the next installment: apples! 
I can't wait.



The Blasted Church

 

A friend of mine who lives in Okanagan Falls, B.C. would drive by a certain landmark every day on her way to work. “The Blasted Church” she would read. “Oh, that's so sacrilegious! Why would a church be called 'blasted'?" Sure enough, there was a story behind this unusual name.

In the late eighteen hundreds, gold had been found near present day Oliver, B.C. A whole city sprang up. A small Presbyterian church was one of the amenities built to support a burgeoning population. When the gold petered out, the miners left the town of Fairview, and it fell into disrepair, becoming a ghost town.

Nearby Okanagan Falls had become a ranching and freight centre. The residents decided to transport the neglected church from Fairview for their own use. It seemed a daunting task, until an engineer suggested boarding up the windows, and lighting four sticks of dynamite, suspended from the rafters. The explosion from the dynamite loosened the nails, and the boards were easily dismantled to be transported to Okanagan Falls. The United Church in the town is nicknamed The Blasted Church, and lends its name to a winery as well.


The boards of the church were transported to Okanagan Falls in 1929 and reassembled.


Nothing exists now on the site of the once booming town of Fairview, except an information kiosk. Plans are to upgrade the 1 km walking path around the grounds, and to designate a few more landmarks. Terry and I walked around in the blustery wind.















The site of the original Presbyterian church.
















Close up of the sign.















The story of The Blasted Church is a reminder not to judge a book by its cover! Or to jump to conclusions based on the outward appearance of something or someone.

 Samuel 16:7  The LORD doesn't see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart. [NLT]