Well, the Wood Spirits have their ways, and this morning proved to be evidence of how they work.  Having recorded in my blog yesterday that we had never met the kindly gnomes of Mt. Revelstoke Forest, one appeared this morning on the trail not 30' above our property. Chester and I were beginning our morning hike,  heading up the little path connecting our property to the larger network of trails above.  There she was, planted firmly on the 'terra',  rake in hand and a good 500' yards of trail already swept leaf-free behind her.  I introduced myself, and the irony of this first encounter.  She introduced herself as follows in the e-mail she sent shortly after our rendezvous: 

"Hi Rebecca, it was nice to meet you too. I rake the leaves off the trails because I love to look at the contrast of trail and forest. It is a very personal thing for me. I travel the trails daily seeing the little changes and becoming connected with every hump and bump along the way. I used to run the trails off the eastern access road but there is indications that it will soon become lawns and three car garages so I am transferring my heart to the area where we met and am so glad to hear it is somewhat protected. Have inserted one of my pencil drawings of a bridge. Would be nice to meet you again sometime."

Here is one of the drawings:

The Bridges of Mt. Revelstoke Forest

Behind our home in Revelstoke there are miles and miles of bike trails through the woods. This in itself is not unusual, but there is a bit of magic that seems to take place that has kept us puzzled for many years now.  Each morning and often again in the afternoon, we walk on the trails with Chester and notice repairs on  rickety crossings,  the addition of a new bridge where a trail seem to be turning to mud,  a new tressel where the steep bank of a gulch has become too difficult to negotiate.  Each new bridge is uniquely designed, usually consisting of two stripped logs placed length-wise, joined by planks making up the bridge platform itself. Yet, in all these years we have never seen anyone at work.  These shy creatures of the woods seem to work in  'time out of time',  the evidence of their handiwork appearing only after they themselves are long gone.   Not only do these wood gnomes  build bridges, but they also clear the trails of debris, clean up deadfall after storms, add guide rails to sections of trail that are treacherous, and grade the trail in places where the slope is steep.  If anyone ever sees them, be sure to tell them how much we appreciate their hard work.

End of Season

Late October afternoon light at Vancouver Rowing Club

Trip to Revelstoke for Thanksgiving

David and I drove the Duffy Lake Road (Hwy. 99)  to Lillouet on our way home to Revelstoke for Thanksgiving.  Spectacular vistas of the Fraser River en route, as well as sweeping views of ranchlands  between  Cache Creek and Kamloops.  

Newly refurbished brightwork.

On The Beach

We sailed from Comox Harbour up to Cortez Island in a day, motoring when the wind dropped and we could see our reflections in the ocean beside Spring Moon. We arrived at about 6 p.m and moored the first night, August 24th, in Gorge Harbour, and celebrated Jackie's BD with her family and friends. Next day we moved Spring Moon to Manson's Landing, and took a day trip to Shark Spit for a romp on the beach and a swim in tidal waters. The kids had been painting shells before we arrived, so I took my paints and brushes and joined them for a little painting of my own. This needs to be an annual event as I can't imagine not doing more driftwood art in the future.

How's the weather up there?

After we left Hornby Island, we headed up the channel between Vancouver Island and Denman Island. It was howling down the passage and we were doing about 6 knots with the current, the tide and just the genoa up. We wanted to see how she would go wing on wing, and decided to put up the main, something we had been hesitant to do earlier, with such a strong following wind. We came into wind, hoisted the main, let the wind push us around and took off. We hadn't gone 100 yards before the halyard let go, and the mainsail fluttered down on top of the cabin. The snap-shackle had blown, and our halyard was at the top of the mast. This necessitated a call to the local rigger in Comox, Steve, who used a 2 rope system to self-propel up the 58' mast. Alan belayed him on the 2nd rope. We decided to have a diver come to clean the bottom as well, and with these adjustments behind us, we made good speed on the rest of the trip.