Mushrooms in the Forest

 Rebecca said that she stopped in another blog post, to study mushrooms that looked like fried eggs.  So Bonnie took a few new shots for her.  Ask and you shall receive.

... the smallest mushroom I could find ...

... a fluted mushroom ...

... so sweet, growing out of the fallen birch ...

... mushrooms in the lower left of the photo, their colour hiding them
in the rust of the  autumn golden cedar boughs...
... one mushroom looks like an beach umbrella ...

Arta

Walking Sticks

Photo Credit: Bonnie Johnson

When I meet Greg in the forest, he is always using his walking sticks.

When I met Rebecca’s doctor and his wife while they are walking up Pkols, they were using walking sticks.

I can’t find mine right now.

I have been searching for days, so I decided to use a cane in each hand on the trail – better two canes than a fall.

The most dangerous place on the Grandfather’s Trail may be its entrance off Pilling’s road, just at the railroad crossing.

... this must be four feet high ...

When I shared that fact with Glen he said to tell Greg Bates and that he will probably build steps there.

Not necessary.

I am just saying that I pay particular attention to my steps at that spot, since as I have started watching the ground more, I notice that wet clay on a slope is a sure sign that slipping could happen.

Another tricky slippage as well would a little clump of small wet pine cones.

I know the physiotherapists say to walk with eyes focused out about ten metres ahead and I know that will work when looking for a bear.

Looking at Roots
... the root of an overturned tree ...

But the protruding, interlacing roots of the Douglas fir tree are always at my feet. The more I am on the lookout for them, the more wonderous their pattern becomes on the forest floor.

Once invisible to me, now I see them at every step, some as thick as my wrist, and some as small as an arthritic knuckle.

Still, they work in symphony, their shapes producing static movement on the forest floor, both with their interlocking systems, and the heave and sway as they in the earth.

I keep my eye on them.

Bonnie has laid her shoe lace alongside
the mushroom so that Rebecca can
see exactly how small these fungi are.

Eyes down on the forest floor.

They are probably more dangerous than an animal, since it only takes a slip on them, or a stub, or the roll of heel to bring me down.

Trying to keep that event in the far future I walk forward slowly, though fast enough to lose Bonnie in the forest.

She stays behind me to photograph roots, or mushrooms, or the train passing by.

When she tries to catch up, it is not that I have gone so far, just that I am on the downside of a slope while she is on the upside.

... a small animal lives in this hole ...

She phones.

I stop to answer.

She catches up.

We turn around – 1 ½ hours of walking – new trails.

Old trails.

Walking them in a new way.

Arta

Stewarding the Trailhead at Sicamous, BC

... view of Sicamous Bay below ...

I saw Glen’s white truck leaving the property and then it backed up and came down my driveway.

“Wanna come to the trailhead. There is a tree down on the bicycle path there and I have to fix it. Only a short walk in. One I think you can do.”

Getting there was exactly as he had described: take the first road to the left after you get on the Trans-Canada, turn close to the Sicamous bridge but before it.

... the trail steward backpacking his chain saw in to work ...

The road climbs quickly past a property where a space for trailers can be rented, -- fabulous view there of Sicamous Bay -- and then there is a parking lot of sorts, probably only for n4 cars.

And a sign that says, Please don’t Block the Road, so vehicles get tucked to the side and in our case we began to walk up the trail to the downed tree.

Oh yes, there is a sign that says, Bear Warning.

... the chain saw? ... 
... always sharp, always full of gas ...

That sign is to remove liability from the organization that maintains the trail: we told you there were bears.

 “I haven’t seen any sign of bears here, lately,” he said. "But that doesn’t mean there are no bears.”

He seemed serious about his portion of the trail and we walked part of it: the inclines where pedalling is good work for the heart; the small slopes where a biker can feel the thrill of speed going downhill, and then the sharp incline again.

... post chain saw, 2 shoes full of sawdust ...

“Listen for bikers who are on the trail. They will be coming at a speed that can hurt you.”

Glen was behind me, and then I couldn’t see him – how could he got lost when he was behind me, I wondered since he was out of my sight.

But he was putting up a sign: WANTED.

And on the next line, “a crew of people willing to help with trail maintenance” and his phone number on tear-off tags.

... see the height of the goldenrod and in the distance
Sicamous Bay is at the centre of the picture ...

I fingered one but no use ripping it off – I know his number.

I wanted to know how able bodied a person needs to be and how often this crew will be out working.

“We will be a well-oiled team in the fall, not now,” he said optimistically.

“I used to find good bikes, about 10 years old, for half of their new price, but that is gone,” he went on.

“Add 30 percent to that old price, and there are no new bikes around. The manufacturers are sold out so you can’t even order them. COVID has turned biking into a popular sport around here.”

“Why not,” I thought.

Twenty miles of trails between Sicamous and Salmon Arm, maintained by volunteers.

They maintain a beautiful ride along the top of the ridge.

“Laynie came in April with her kids but she wasn’t in shape to ride. She got on the stationary bike at first, and now she rides along the ridge in the mornings. Sometimes we go out at 5 am and are back in time for work. Fit as a fiddle,” he said.

And he went on.

... golden rod at the trail's head ...
... look centre and above for 2 bees ...

“This is not an ancient growth forest, nor a cathedral forest. This is an old growth forest. If you look for large old stumps, now deteriorating and covered with moss, you will be able to see where trees were taken out, maybe 100 years ago,” and he continued, “The first thing a forester learns is how to look up.”

 I did look up to see a cedar, now dead, but still reaching for the heavens; a fir with a long bole, and branches only at the top of the canopy.

The sun spiraled down through cedar boughs and broken birch branches, streams of light splaying through the rotting wood and landing on the forest floor.

The deadfall he had come after was half-way onto the path – a bit of a danger for an inexperienced biker.

... the fallen tree is cut in 3 large chunks to clear the trail ...

He cut it with his chainsaw, three big pieces at a time, pushing them to the lake side of the trail, full body pushes, large pieces of wood.

As we walked, he showed me new cuts – other places where he has been cleaning up the trail.

“I have been wondering if the older sets of cousins would like to come up here, climb to the summit, have a picnic and feel the forest. “

... looking up to see how high the trees reach ...

“We should do trails like these on the property,” someone said to him.

“But why, when the trails are already here for everyone, a quick walk through an old growth forest.”

A trip to add to my gratitude list.

Arta

trailheads -

Glen told me that if the teen-agers around here like adventure, there is a hike that leads to the top of the mountain, but through an old grown forest.

To get there from Annis Bay, take the Trans-Canada into Sicamous, turning off at the sign that says Welcome to Sicamous.

Park there, though you can drive up further and turn around without a 4-wheel drive.

Still, it is safer to stop at the sign that says Welcome to Sicamous.

Walk down the road and you will go through an old growth forest, not as spectacular as the ancient forest we went to on Vancouver Island, but still a wonderful forest. It is 2 km to the top of the hill which will give you a great view.

The trail, called Larch Hills Traverse will lead to the top of the Mt. You can download trailforks (one word) and it gives you trail heads anywhere in B.C. This app is good for Alberta, maybe even North America. You can geo reference from that app and it tells you where to turn to go to the trail.

This information was given to me by Trail Steward, Glen Pilling, who was going up there this afternoon to take a fallen log off of the trail so that it will be safe for travellers.

There are many trail stewards who are doing the same thing, each on their own section, to keep this path available for all.

Thank-you, trail stewards.

Arta

An Hour's Walk

... sunlight streaks through the trees ...

There are plenty of trails for the use and enjoyment of all.

Rebecca and I usually just walk Pilling’s Road from Glen’s house to Bernie Road and then back again.

Three stretches of that and I can get in about 4,500 steps.

"Have you taken the new route behind David and Shauna's house yet?"

... the railroad is only a stone's throw away ...

Hearing no, I took my walking sticks and off we strode.

“This is not a good path for conversation,” she said.

She is right.

Nothing about the walk is good for conversation.

The Grandfather’s Path is a trail for one person, if that.

I occasionally trip on a rock I have missed, or get my foot caught by falling ferns and I haven’t taken that trail enough times to know were to cut off and strike up the hill.

I have missed that turn two times in a row now.

I can tell when I have gone too far and I know how to double back, but it is a bit embarrassing to be the leader on the path and miss the turn.

The first bit of the climb is steep and there are some natural stairs built into the hill.

“Look, the cedars are doing their work of providing stairs for us,”

Rebecca said as we climbed along the roots that were there to help in the ascent.

“Not a good trail for conversation,” she gasped at another point. “Only if you have a very strong diaphragm and can shout your words ahead so that I can hear them,”

I replied. “It is all I can do to keep these walking sticks propping me up so that I am always in a vertical position. No talking from me.”

Rebecca describes the walk better than I in her personal blog if you have time for a longer read.

Just as a matter of pure fact, the loop of the walk takes less than an hour and that includes missing the first turn, stopping to take pictures of the stream, descending to a small waterfall feature that David has added to the stream, pausing to listen to a bird sound that was new to us (the sound of two hollow sticks clicked together twice) and visiting with new loved ones who have just arrived on the property.

Arta