Sugarloaf Mountain, Nanaimo, B.C.

Little did I know that we had a “mountain” in the middle of Nanaimo. To describe this bulge of rock in such a manner, in my opinion, is pushing the word mountain a bit far. That being said, my wife and I and two friends who took us there, did the easy climb to the top. It was a gorgeous day, and the view did not disappoint.

Getting around is relatively easy, and that facilitates taking in a 360 degree view of the mountains and the Salish Sea, all from an elevation of about 250 feet.

The climb starts out on a couple of flights of wooden stairs. At the top of the stairs you have easy access to the rock for the balance of the climb.

This struck me as a lovely spot for a picnic, or just to watch the sunrise or sunset. Cheers.

Craigdarroch Castle, Victoria, British Columbia

Unlike Europe, Canada comes up a little lacking when it comes to castles.

Craigdarroch Castle, Vicoria, B.C.

Not intended as a castle, but as a manor house for coal baron Robert Dunsmuir. Completed in 1890, and situated on 28 acres, it boasts 4 floors, many glass windows and much intricate wood work. Sadly, Robert passed away before completion, leaving the manor to his wife Joan, 3 daughters and 2 grandchildren.

We were fortunate on our visit day. It was during the mid week and also a rainy day. This meant that not too may other people would be in the view finder.

The first sight to greet you is the magnificent staircase. The impressive woodwork for the most part was milled in Chicago and shipped on five rail cars.

The large salon-double style drawing room would have been the main entertaining area of the home.

Mrs. Dunsmuir sitting room.

One of the many stained glass windows. This one in the library.

The dining room, with seating for 14. The fireplace has a bent-flue to allow a stained glass window. This feature is also in the library and breakfast room.

Just one of the landings in the grand staircase.

The main hall and the beginning of the grand staircase.

Craigdarroch Castle stretches over 2,000 square metres and houses 39 rooms. It is believed to have cost around $500,000 when first built. The construction includes granite from British Columbia, tiles from San Francisco and an oak staircase that was imported from Chicago. While the castle is still dressed in 1800s’ Victoria-era furnishings, it is known for its stunning stained glass designs and intricate interior woodwork.

The castle’s name, Craigdarroch, means “a rocky oak place” in Gaelic and its design lives up to that name. The exterior is made of beautiful gray granite while the interior is given a warm atmosphere through the extensive use of wood. During the time period, it was thought that being surrounded by artistic beauty, such as the decor in the castle, would lead to a better development of personality in those that lived there. (Canadian Traveller).

I would like to visit the castle again. I could not get my camera to the right settings, hence, the hue is off in some, and a bit grainy in others. I had more success with my iPhone. More practice needed. Cheers.












Two for the Price of One

Strathcona Provincial Park, located on Vancouver Island, is big. At 250,000 hectares, it was designated as a provincial park in 1911, and is the largest in British Columbia.

Within the park are several campgrounds, one of which is at Ralph River. So for a couple of days last week, my wife and I packed up the car and drove for over 3 hours to what turned out to be the most desirable campsite in the park.  

Little did we know, is that Wednesday was to be our best day weather wise. Thursday was wet and cool. After wandering around some of the shoreline of Buttle Lake, (named after John James Taylor Buttle, a surveyer and cartographer of the mid 1800’s), we decided to take a short drive to Mayra Falls. The pictures to follow are just before the final plummet to the lake.

The last time we were here, we walked out on these rocks, but not today; too wet and slippery.

On our way home Friday we stopped at Lupin Falls, just a short walk from the highway. Just like at Myra Falls, the rain had brought out all the hidden shades in the rock. This is an entirely different falls; not as much water, higher and in a much more lush setting.

The Plow – A Puzzlement.


As humans, we go about our day to day living with nary a second thought as to what we encounter. Sights and sounds are familiar, real, tangible, common place, validated by their familiarity, hardly questioned. We rely on science to back up our experiences. Sometimes, this is not always so. Sometimes we are thrown a curve. We are caught off guard and baffled by a mystery. Common logic fails us as to an explanation. Those truths that sit comfortably in our brain are blown away; they fail us. The incident that follows falls into that domain.

On December 27, 2014, a tragedy occurred on a stretch of the Coquihalla Highway between Merritt and Hope, British Columbia. The incident was covered by some of the local papers, making front page news. It seems a transport truck lost control on a snow covered curve, and crossed the median into oncoming traffic. A snow plow, as part of that oncoming traffic swerved to avoid a crash, but ended up going through the guard rail and down a steep embankment to rocks below. Two township employees were killed. The transport truck driver suffered only minor injuries.
Fast forward to this past Christmas. It has become the custom for my wife and I to travel to Kamloops from Vancouver Island to spend this time with her sisters and their family. We left early in the morning, as the six hour trip involves a two hour ferry ride from Vancouver Island to the mainland. At this time of year, travelling the Coquihalla is an exercise in preparation. It requires a full tank of gas, water, snacks, blankets and winter attire. Anything less is asking for trouble and just plain dumb. As it turned out, it was smooth sailing all the way.
A few words about the Coquihalla highway itself. The first section of the highway between Hope and Merritt was opened in 1986, and was the third major highway connecting the British Columbia coast with the interior. Named after the Coquihalla River, it means “Stingy Container” in the language of the Stó:Lō tribe. Rising to 4081 feet above sea level, it is a route filled with both beauty and danger. In winter it can become a bit of a challenge as one is transported from green grass to white out conditions. Vehicles are required to have snow tires, and transports must carry chains. The big yellow signs put it quite bluntly, High Mountain Road, expect sudden weather changes.
The real story of our trip happened on our way back home. It was snowing, not heavily, just enough to keep one alert. Visibility was fair, and didn’t pose a great concern. It was the temperature that posed the problem. At a couple of degrees above freezing, the snow was wet. Great for making a snow man, but a red flag for drivers. Because of the water content of the snow, the slush on the road has the ability to render a vehicle uncontrollable. Which is exactly what happened to the pickup ahead of us, off in the snow bank, going nowhere.
I am not normally a person who stops to assist, not wanting to put myself in danger, but the driver was trying to move snow by kicking at it and that said to me, stop, and help. Also, the driver, an elderly gentleman, was inadequately dressed.for the season. I pulled off the highway, as far as I could, flashers on, making sure that I did not end up in the same situation.
He was grateful that we had stopped, albeit a bit embarrassed by his predicament. He soon revealed that he did not have a snow shovel; and a back condition which greatly restricted his lifting ability. On top of that he said that his wife suffered from anxiety attacks, and he was concerned about leaving her alone in the cab. They appeared to be in their 70’s, and totally ill prepared to handle the situation. My wife then joined us, and I suggested that she keep them company in the cab while I got to work and moved some snow. With that taken care of, I had my first real chance to assess the situation.
It did not take a lot of time to figure out just what I was looking at. A pickup mired in a snow bank, just me with a shovel, and a lot of hard packed snow to move. I grabbed the shovel from our car and started to break up the snow in front of the truck. It was hard work as the snow had compressed to a rock like condition. Now I am not a religious person, and I was not looking to the heavens for divine intervention, but, at that moment a plow making it’s way towards me gave me hope.
A crazy thought went through my head. Stepping out from in front of the pickup, I waved my arms and shovel at them. Slowing to a stop behind the pickup, the fellow riding shotgun rolled down his window. I asked if they could drop their blade as close to the front of the truck as possible, thus clearing the way to get back on the highway. The solution seemed simple enough, but would they? After the two had a quick exchange of words, they agreed to the request. Thinking I might want to post this moment on social media, I took a quick picture of the two and moved back out of the way. They pulled up a bit forward of the pickup, slowly lowered the blade to about six inches of the front, and were on their way, mystically blending in with the rising mist from other vehicles.
With their departure I anticipated that my job should be fairly simple. After poking around for a bit, and hoping that I had moved enough snow to free it, I asked him to give it a try. It was equipped with 4 wheel drive but the back end, being lighter, wanted to pull into the snow bank. Back to more shovelling, and then my weight on the tailgate worked to break them free. Thinking back now, not once did I notice that cars and trucks were travelling by just feet from our position.
With the truck freed, my wife hopped out; I had actually forgot that she was still in there! She got back in our car while I suggested to the husband and his wife that they stop in Hope. I gave him the name of a restaurant just off the highway and said we would meet them there. The snow had eased off by this time, but the roads were still very slushy.
The drive to Hope was uneventful, and my wife told me about their conversation in the cab. As it turned out, the couple in the truck were returning to Maple Ridge from Merritt. They had been attending a funeral for a previous neighbour who had moved to Merritt to be with his children. His wife had passed on, he was lonely and not in the greatest of health, hence the move. This was their second such trip in 4 years. The first one was to attend the funeral of their neighbours son. He had been like a son to them, having looked after him on a number of occasions.
We caught up to their truck just before Hope and followed them to the restaurant. Though popular and always busy, we soon found ourselves settled into a cozy booth. An order for coffee and a light lunch, which they insisted on paying for, was placed. I was pleased to see that his wife looked a little less upset now that the ordeal was over. We had a very pleasant lunch, and conversation flowed easily. It was easy to see the tension melting away.
Realizing that they had not seen the pictures of the plow operators, I hauled out my phone. The looks on their faces told me that something was not right. His wife let out a gasp, paled, and put a hand to her mouth, looking away. Her husband, not moving, just starred at the picture. Once they had settled down somewhat, her husband spoke. It seems that one of the men in the photo was of their neighbours son, Ben, who was killed when the plow he was operating was forced off the road trying to avoid a collision with an on coming semi trailer.
The date, December 27, 2014. Today’s date was December 27, 2018.


Shortly after we got home, and still trying to unravel just what happened, I did some searching through the Merritt Herald. This is, in part, what I found.

It is with great sadness that the family of Benjamin Shappiro, age 38, announce his tragic passing on December 27, 2014 while employed for the county. The father of two children, Adam Shappiro and July-Ann Shappiro. He leaves behind his wife, of 16 years, Roberta. He predeceases his parents, John Shappiro and Mary Shappiro, nee Bech, both of Maple Ridge, British Columbia.

Wolf Walk

A week ago I had the opportunity of a lifetime. To walk and interact with a wolf.

Myself and a few others spent a delightful hour walking through the woods with Tundra and her owner, Gary. At one point she leaned against me so I gently massaged her back, when I stopped, she turned around and she gently put a paw on my leg. She wanted more. I had been accepted. If I had any concerns up to that point, they were now gone.


This was not just a hands on experience. Gary educated us as to the part the wolf plays in the environment. Their history, hunting strategies, benefits, misconceptions and the role they played in the lives of the indigenous peoples of British Columbia.


Tundra was born in 2007 and acquired by Gary when she was 3 weeks old.

For the past 10 years. he has been conducting presentations on wolves for schools and community groups. Over that time period he has seen over 10,000 students and teachers.


From his website he says, “It is my hope that I can meet the challenge set out by L. David Mech, one of the world’s preeminent wolf biologists.”

“I hope I can help other people to see the wolf for what it is: one more magnificent species, superbly adapted to contend with its harsh environment, and highly deserving of our understanding and acceptance.”


My next adventure with wolves? A wolf howl. Stay tuned. Cheers.