Category: travelogue

More from Vancouver

Part 2 of our visit to British Columbia

From Vancouver, we drove north along the coast to picturesque Porteau Cove Provincial Marine Park. Situated on the most southerly fjord in North America, the park offers waterfront campsites with a view over Howe Sound to the mountains beyond. Purposely sunk in the cove is an old boat to attract scuba divers and other marine life.

But our main objective that day was the Britannia Mine Museum National Historic Site at Britannia Beach. Once an isolated company town, it supported one of the largest copper producing mines in the British Empire—with 240 km of tunnels in the mountains above it. It lies within the territory of the Squamish Nation, who had lived along the river banks for thousands of years, but had no permanent large settlements because of the mountains’ steep slopes right into the water.

The third and largest mill built on that site was erected 101 years ago, and processed 2,500 tons of ore per day, but eventually closed down in 1974. The raw ore entered at the top of the 20-story mill that crushed and ground it in each successive floor until the valuable metals and minerals were separated from the waste rock.

Before we entered the mill, though, we enjoyed a short tour by mine car through a section of the tunnel system. As we entered the bottom floor of the old mill built into the side of the mountain, we gaped up at its enormity. But the most memorable part of that visit was a truly clever and engaging light, sound, and live-action immersive show that interpreted how the old mill operated within that architectural marvel. (I’ve been in the educational/interpretational field for more than 40 years, and that’s the best presentation I’ve ever seen. If you’re going out of your way to coastal British Columbia, I recommend the tour!)

After the tour, we stopped at Shannon Falls Provincial Park to once again gaze upward toward mount and sky to soak in the sights and sounds of the gushing falls and rushing river.

Before we flew cross-country home, we made it a day in Vancouver’s famous Stanley Park. Larger than New York City’s Central Park (the natives are proud to boast!), the west coastal rainforest offers fantastic interaction with scenic waterfronts, majestic trees and mountains, and an abundance of cherished natural assets and cultural/historic riches.

We leisurely clopped along in an hour-long horse-drawn carriage tour, pulled by a pair of Percherons, with stops at Deadman’s Island, Totem Poles, Brockton Point Lighthouse, Lumberman’s Arch, and the Girl in the Wetsuit Statue—a takeoff of Denmark’s famous little mermaid. On our own power, we also visited the Lions Gate Bridge, the Vancouver Aquarium, Prospect Point, Third Beach, and Jericho Beach. From our elevated position, we were able to watch an enormous cargo ship leaving the Vancouver harbor.

Our red-eye flight home left at midnight from Vancouver, with a three-hour layover in Chicago starting at dawn, circling down over Lake Michigan. We arrived home via an Uber ride from our local airport at 12:30 pm. We ended our adventures with a drop-dead nap in our own bed, but with glad and thankful hearts for the full, enriching experience.

Vancouver!

modern city – and rainforest island!

As the last major stop in our western summer tour of official duties (professional meetings and conferences in Salt Lake City and Seattle), we took the train to Vancouver, BC for a few days of vacation to visit our son who lives in nearby Burnaby.

He had recently moved from a basement apartment with little ambient light to the tenth floor of a high-rise with floor-to-ceiling glass. My mind cues up the theme song to the 70s sitcom The Jeffersons: Moving On Up! And from his balcony, I see the present-day skyline of The Jetsons, complete with futuristic transportation clamor. Instead of a vehicle that folds into a briefcase, however, our son has an e-bike to maneuver the ultra-urban landscape. Nearby his tower is a huge piece of modern art made from canoes.

One day we rented an Evo car and rode the two-hour ferry from Tsawwassen to Vancouver Island, threading through the many islands in the Strait of Georgia. It was a gray day with a cold July wind, but the ship was huge and comfortable.

On Vancouver Island we headed to British Columbia’s quaint capital, Victoria. We visited second cousins, and were able to celebrate with them in the opening night of their daughter’s new restaurant, Emmaline’s.

But we also had time to visit Victoria’s picturesque downtown harbor, with its Parliament buildings, water taxis and houseboats, among many other attractions.

The weather cleared and we could see Washington’s Olympic Mountains from the southernmost tip in Clover Point Park at Point Zero.

From Victoria, we drove an hour north to Brentwood Bay to visit the renowned Butchart Gardens: an astounding cultivated landscape built in the remains of a worked out limestone quarry. The Sunken Garden, just one portion of the 55-acre complex, built inside the quarry hole itself, is stunning—and hard to believe it was once just cliffs and bare rock. Our photos do not do the magnificent estate justice.

Upon concluding our second day on Vancouver Island, we fled eastward against the setting sun back to the mainland. Once again, we maneuvered through the dozens of formidable islands clogging the passage, but from this direction, we could witness the rising appearance of Washington’s snow-covered stratovolcano Mount Baker, before pulling in to the ferry terminal at Tsawwassen Port.

Next: more from Vancouver, including its famous Stanley Park.

Seattle: where the point of view is the point!

My son once critiqued a movie as just a series of people staring at things. And I think he was justified in that one. But in our recent first-time visit to Seattle, Washington, we found that staring at things is what we did most productively.

First, I had a professional purpose to the trip: the city was hosting Greater & Greener, a biennial international urban parks conference for urban planners, park innovators, and policymakers. (I missed the last forum two years ago, hosted in Philadelphia in my home state, because that’s the week I suffered a passing-out case of covid!)

So the prime point of view was first to learn from the expertise and vision of those around the globe who are doing remarkable work in harnessing the power of parks to create more sustainable, resilient, vibrant, and equitable cities. Its opening reception was held at Pier 62 Waterfront Park, and its closing reception at the Seattle landmark and National Register of Historic Place Gas Works Park at Lake Union. Enlightening and beautiful!

But of course, while we were there, we took in the peculiar, picturesque sights of the city—starting with the famous Space Needle, with views from the ground, our hotel window, and from its top—from its rotating glass floor.

We toured The Marketplace, with its crowded cacophony of fishy smells, offbeat wares, cafes, retail niches, and sideshows. We rode the city’s famous Monorail, built for the 1962 Seattle World’s Fair, sitting right up front next to the young driver who engaged us in conversation about its unique history. We walked the fascinating streets, marveling at the variety of transportation methods, its quaint nooks, and its gleaming modernity. We gaped at the Norwegian Bliss, a cruise ship of 22 decks (!) docked at the terminal on Pier 66.

We particularly enjoyed the Chihuly Garden and Glass Museum featuring the career work of artist Dale Chihuly in eight galleries, a centerpiece Glasshouse, and a lush garden.

We very much found Seattle—with its uncommonly good weather during our stay—a particularly enticing city with a rich palette of intellectual, visual, cultural, and historic vistas. 5 stars.

Utah adventures!

Today’s news announced that the 2034 Winter Olympic Games will be returning to Salt Lake City, Utah, the host of the 2002 Games. Yay for Team USA!

Carol and I recently enjoyed a guided tour of Salt Lake’s Olympic Village following a professional conference at a nearby ski resort. It was a thrill to gaze down from the top of the 120 meter ski jump. The mountains in the distance offered just as spectacular a view—but less dizzying!

I am now a bobsledder, if one run makes one so! Set on wheels for the summer tourist runs, and piloted by a trained driver, the daring can team up with three other brave souls and hurtle down the track at 70-75 mph, experiencing 3-4 Gs—starting right past the sign that warns “severe injury or death can occur beyond this point.” (Here we see the only bobsled Carol would get in: bolted to the concrete!)

We did receive a brief prep: put on this hoodie, and this helmet. When you fold yourself into the sled, bend your knees, but angle your feet flat on the floor; extend your hands through the wrist straps; hunch and hold your shoulders up to cushion your neck and keep your head from flopping around. Now push outward with your arms against the sides of the sled to keep you inside. One thing more: breathe! And with that, the attendant gave us a walking push down the innocuous-looking track.

Fifty-eight wild, jarring seconds later we reached the bottom: shaken, not stirred. And I discovered that I was out of breath. Apparently, despite the advice, I forgot to breathe!

We enjoyed lunch on an observation deck by the Freestyle pools where would-be Olympians of all ages took turns cruising the slopes down and up into a flip into the bubbly water below.

We then left Olympic Village for the Weber River valley. At Weber Crossing in 1846, the Donner party was left a note instructing them not to go through Weber Canyon. Instead, they blazed a trail to Salt Lake Valley, which the Mormons followed for the next 22 years.

But we, aboard a bus, arrived at the same site for a more recreational sojourn: a mostly calm raft ride, save for a few surprisingly placed rapids. One raft from our company approached a boulder from a slightly wrong angle, and two of our friends promptly pitched into the fizzy drink. We were able to drag one of them into our raft, while the other unfortunate was rescued by her own mates. We then stopped and gave the soaker back.

Near the end of the river journey, our guide instructed us to lie sideways across the raft, facing up. We soon discovered why: the river was a bit high, and that’s the only way we’d fit under the upcoming concrete bridge. During that brief, darkened passage, I hand-spanned the distance from my forehead to the bridge’s flat underbelly. Our friends in the other raft had to stop and portage around the obstacle.

The river and mountain scenery was gorgeous, but of course we didn’t bring our cameras or phones along. As the guide explained, “your phone may be waterproof, but it sinks.” So we have glommed a few pics from others.

(Carol and I were in Utah while I attended a meeting with my counterparts from other state park and recreation associations. One night, we dined in a basement restaurant with curtained corner booths that reminded us of the Harmonia Gardens in Hello Dolly! This year, many of us opted to take an extra day off the clock to enjoy some of the special attractions of northern Utah. This other view I call Sunset Strip: straight down Main Street, Park City, UT.)

We ended our lovely, exhausting day with a barbeque at Wasatch Mountain State Park, where the lingering sun didn’t even begin setting until after 9 pm local time.