We followed I-5 south into California and the little town with the strange name, Yreka. The origin of the name isn't reliably known — it may come from an Indian word, but another possibility emerges when you spell it backwards and add a "b." We were in the area known locally as Jefferson State, because citizens have for decades wanted to create a new state from counties in northern California and southern Oregon — rural counties that had more in common with each other than with the distant metropolitan capitals that governed them. They never succeeded, of course, but the name lives on.
By now the coastal weather forecast had improved considerably, so we headed west over formidable ranges of mountains on curvy and narrow state highway 96. We missed the turnoff for the coast and continued on and on down the highway. Eventually (the next day) we made it to the Pacific Ocean at Arcata and swung northward on U.S. highway 101 along the coast as far as Crescent City.
Although California has a huge population, the northern coast — from suburban San Francisco to the Oregon border — is sparsely populated, which suited us fine, as we enjoyed the small towns and relaxed beach and ocean atmosphere. The highway goes right through Redwood National Park and we marveled at the ancient and stately trees. We remembered that their continued existence was not assured during Ronald Reagan's term as governor of California — he wanted to open the redwood forests to commercial lumbering, famously saying "If you've seen one redwood, you've seen them all."
South of Eureka, highway 101 takes an inland route, but state highway 1 offers an alternate route that runs right along the coast, so we chose that. The road winds up and down the sides of coastal mountains, offering a new ocean view at each curve in the road. At Fort Bragg, we stopped for lunch at Sharon's Restaurant (recommended), in a charming cottage at the water's edge, and enjoyed crab cakes on oriental slaw. (Thanks to Mary H. for pointing us down Harbor Drive to a pocket of good restaurants at the dock.) The next day we were hungry when we came into tiny Elk, Calif., and stopped at the rustic and somewhat countercultural Queenie's Roadside Cafe (recommended). There I ordered homemade corned beef hash, freshly prepared to order, and pronounced it the best I'd ever eaten. Farther south in Bodega Bay, I stopped for lunch at a fish shack called the Spud Point Crab Company for a bowl of their award-winning clam chowder ($7, recommended), full of seafood that comes off the fishing boats right across the street, and, to my palate, seasoned to perfection.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Washington and Oregon
Now we are migrating with the season, headed south with the birds.
Washington
We departed Whidbey Island by loading Cruisemaster onto the ferry to Port Townsend, and when the ferry landed we continued south through Washington. The weather was uncomfortably warm in the interior of the state, so we headed west toward the coast, which turned out to be overcast and chilly. Too hot, too cold. Checking the weather forecast on the web, we foresaw clouds for the next few days all the way down the coast into Oregon and California, so we made a decision to steer, not for a particular feature or attraction, but for better weather, which we found inland, east of the coastal range of mountains.
Oregon
We skirted Portland and continued south to McMinnville, a small town with an interesting aviation museum. I spent a few happy hours there, wandering around and looking at the planes, but the major thrill was the Spruce Goose, the one and only original, beautifully restored and displayed. This was the plane conceived during WWII, when supply and troop ships were being sunk on their way to Britain. This airplane was planned to be so huge that a fleet of them could replace the ships. Metal was scarce during the war, so the plane was made of birch, cut to shape, bent, and laminated with glue. The plane was so large that it had eight propellers, each driven by a 3000 horsepower engine.
Critics doubted that such a large wooden plane would ever fly, but it did make one test flight, piloted by Howard Hughes, the man who had championed it, overseen its design and construction, and personally paid for millions in cost overruns. But by that time the war had ended, and the test plane turned out to be the only one constructed. It is to the Evergreen Aviation Museum's great credit that it obtained, restored, and displays this historic airplane.
Farther south, we passed through Corvallis and Eugene and decided to hop on I-5 in search of reliable sunshine, finally finding it in Grants Pass, Medford, and Ashland. When we stopped in Medford to inquire about a public Internet connection, the Visitors Center gravely informed us that the city library was closed due to lack of funds. We could only gasp in disbelief. The excellent public libraries in Minnesota must not be taken for granted, for if the money isn't there, a library cannot remain open, and politicians whose only priority is cutting taxes are not to be trusted when it comes to libraries or bridges.
Washington
We departed Whidbey Island by loading Cruisemaster onto the ferry to Port Townsend, and when the ferry landed we continued south through Washington. The weather was uncomfortably warm in the interior of the state, so we headed west toward the coast, which turned out to be overcast and chilly. Too hot, too cold. Checking the weather forecast on the web, we foresaw clouds for the next few days all the way down the coast into Oregon and California, so we made a decision to steer, not for a particular feature or attraction, but for better weather, which we found inland, east of the coastal range of mountains.
Oregon
We skirted Portland and continued south to McMinnville, a small town with an interesting aviation museum. I spent a few happy hours there, wandering around and looking at the planes, but the major thrill was the Spruce Goose, the one and only original, beautifully restored and displayed. This was the plane conceived during WWII, when supply and troop ships were being sunk on their way to Britain. This airplane was planned to be so huge that a fleet of them could replace the ships. Metal was scarce during the war, so the plane was made of birch, cut to shape, bent, and laminated with glue. The plane was so large that it had eight propellers, each driven by a 3000 horsepower engine.
Critics doubted that such a large wooden plane would ever fly, but it did make one test flight, piloted by Howard Hughes, the man who had championed it, overseen its design and construction, and personally paid for millions in cost overruns. But by that time the war had ended, and the test plane turned out to be the only one constructed. It is to the Evergreen Aviation Museum's great credit that it obtained, restored, and displays this historic airplane.
Farther south, we passed through Corvallis and Eugene and decided to hop on I-5 in search of reliable sunshine, finally finding it in Grants Pass, Medford, and Ashland. When we stopped in Medford to inquire about a public Internet connection, the Visitors Center gravely informed us that the city library was closed due to lack of funds. We could only gasp in disbelief. The excellent public libraries in Minnesota must not be taken for granted, for if the money isn't there, a library cannot remain open, and politicians whose only priority is cutting taxes are not to be trusted when it comes to libraries or bridges.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Washington — Whidbey Island
The ferry from Vancouver Island navigated through fog and mist to deposit us in Washington state. All we had to do was show our U.S. passport twice, answer questions about where we'd been and how long, what we were carrying, and open our fridge for inspection, to a border officer wearing a black uniform, black boots, and black gloves.
We drove down Whidbey Island to visit an old Minneapolis friend, Ann G., who now lives in Coupeville, a tiny gem of a place. The village is cute, located on a hillside, with shops, restaurants, and a mussel farm down in the water at the cove. The local cuisine is seafood, including just-caught mussels, clams, and salmon. We had outstanding dinners at Christopher's (recommended) — I had the seafood stew, Ann had ravioli with prawns (under $20 each).
One evening we drove farther down the island to an old movie theater that was showing a documentary, "The Real Dirt on farmer John," the funny true story of a misfit Midwestern Scandinavian farmer who floundered for decades before finding the right niche in the world for him and his farm. Another day we parked at the dock and took the ferry over to Port Townsend, Wash., a gem of a place, with restored old buildings, a used book store, and (naturally) restaurants. We had seafood at Fins and pronounced it delicious. (Recommended).
The weather was sunny and pleasant, and at night the sky was so clear we could see the Milky way. Blackberries grow wild in the northwest — imagine not having to plant, cultivate, water, and worry about winter protection! When Menominee took me for walks, I always kept an eye out for blackberry bushes, then picked only the big, plump, ripe and juicy berries, the ones just waiting to be picked and popped into your mouth. (Recomended)
An island is insulated from the hubbub of the mainland. Most people seldom have a reason to come to Whidbey Island, which makes it sparsely populated, relaxed, and friendly. I'm still smiling about the friendliness of the happy locals there. (I want to go back.)
And yet, it isn't all heavenly, even on Whidbery Island.
The island lacks major culture -- professional live theater and music, museums, galleries, colleges and universities -- as well as access to large stores and a major airport. Seattle is 60 miles and one ferry crossing away, so it's like living in Hinkley and yearning for the attractions of the Twin Cities (and taking a ferry where the 35W bridge used to be).
It isn't all peace and quiet on Whidbey. A naval air station is located at the northern tip of the island, and navy planes swoop low over the island taking off and landing.
Our visit featured ideal weather -- sunny and warm -- but the island also experiences clouds, fog, rain, some snow, and plenty of wind.
Whidbey Island's only source of fresh water is from wells, and the water is full of rust, so people don't drink it or wash clothes in it.
Port Townsend is lovely to visit on foot, as we did, but if you bring a vehicle, you've got a parking problem.
We happened to be there in blackberry season. The rest of the year, they're just thorny bushes.
We drove down Whidbey Island to visit an old Minneapolis friend, Ann G., who now lives in Coupeville, a tiny gem of a place. The village is cute, located on a hillside, with shops, restaurants, and a mussel farm down in the water at the cove. The local cuisine is seafood, including just-caught mussels, clams, and salmon. We had outstanding dinners at Christopher's (recommended) — I had the seafood stew, Ann had ravioli with prawns (under $20 each).
One evening we drove farther down the island to an old movie theater that was showing a documentary, "The Real Dirt on farmer John," the funny true story of a misfit Midwestern Scandinavian farmer who floundered for decades before finding the right niche in the world for him and his farm. Another day we parked at the dock and took the ferry over to Port Townsend, Wash., a gem of a place, with restored old buildings, a used book store, and (naturally) restaurants. We had seafood at Fins and pronounced it delicious. (Recommended).
The weather was sunny and pleasant, and at night the sky was so clear we could see the Milky way. Blackberries grow wild in the northwest — imagine not having to plant, cultivate, water, and worry about winter protection! When Menominee took me for walks, I always kept an eye out for blackberry bushes, then picked only the big, plump, ripe and juicy berries, the ones just waiting to be picked and popped into your mouth. (Recomended)
An island is insulated from the hubbub of the mainland. Most people seldom have a reason to come to Whidbey Island, which makes it sparsely populated, relaxed, and friendly. I'm still smiling about the friendliness of the happy locals there. (I want to go back.)
And yet, it isn't all heavenly, even on Whidbery Island.
The island lacks major culture -- professional live theater and music, museums, galleries, colleges and universities -- as well as access to large stores and a major airport. Seattle is 60 miles and one ferry crossing away, so it's like living in Hinkley and yearning for the attractions of the Twin Cities (and taking a ferry where the 35W bridge used to be).
It isn't all peace and quiet on Whidbey. A naval air station is located at the northern tip of the island, and navy planes swoop low over the island taking off and landing.
Our visit featured ideal weather -- sunny and warm -- but the island also experiences clouds, fog, rain, some snow, and plenty of wind.
Whidbey Island's only source of fresh water is from wells, and the water is full of rust, so people don't drink it or wash clothes in it.
Port Townsend is lovely to visit on foot, as we did, but if you bring a vehicle, you've got a parking problem.
We happened to be there in blackberry season. The rest of the year, they're just thorny bushes.
Canada — In Conclusion
Things cost more in Canada, but we got by.
Canadian money looks funny.
Canada is metric, but it isn't difficult to make do.
Canada has a marvelous system of Visitor Information Centres which we used and really appreciated.
Canada is a bilingual country but everybody understood our English.
The Canadian accent is no barrier to communication.
They still have Mounties but they no longer ride horses.
We enjoyed our trip across Canada. If you enjoyed reading this blog, maybe you, too, will want to visit Canada one day. Happy travels!
Canadian money looks funny.
Canada is metric, but it isn't difficult to make do.
Canada has a marvelous system of Visitor Information Centres which we used and really appreciated.
Canada is a bilingual country but everybody understood our English.
The Canadian accent is no barrier to communication.
They still have Mounties but they no longer ride horses.
We enjoyed our trip across Canada. If you enjoyed reading this blog, maybe you, too, will want to visit Canada one day. Happy travels!
Friday, September 14, 2007
Canada — Vancouver Island
We left Vancouver and drove north to catch the ferry at Horseshoe Bay, which turned out to be a lovely hamlet with a restaurant called Trolls, where I had a delicious seafood lunch at a reasonable price. (Recommended).
The Ferry
If you've never ridden a ferry, it's fun. On foot or bicycle, it's easy and cheap. In a vehicle, you have to line up and pay a lot of money, then line up again and wait until it's time to get on the ferry. When the vehicles in front of you start moving, you follow them across a ramp and onto the ship and park where they tell you to. Then you can leave your vehicle and wander around, admiring the view, buying something to eat, or going out on the deck to feel the wind in your face. When the voyage is over, you follow the vehicle ahead of you and drive off the ferry back onto land. We saw cars, motorcycles, pickups pulling vacation trailers, RVs of all sizes, even a big truck with semi trailer. The cost is based on the size of the vehicle and the length of the trip. For an ordinary car, it's about thirty cents a minute, but for Cruisemaster it was more like a dollar, because of extra height and length.
Vancouver Island
The ferry took us to Nanaimo, on the east coast of Vancouver Island. Although we had hoped to immediately discover a Garden of Eden, Nanaimo was a busy port town, so we headed north up the coast in search of smaller towns and bucolic beauty. We spent a few days meandering through Parksville, Courtenay, and Campbell River up into the wilderness of Sayward and Telegraph Cove. It was a lovely drive through deeply green mountainous countryside with cool, damp sea air. We had wanted to drive over to the west coast of the island to see the Pacific Ocean and maybe spot some whales, but cold, rainy weather there deterred us. Instead we headed south to Duncan, where I took a tour of the Merridale Apple Cider Mill, a small operation that grows its own special apples (varieties grown in England especially for making cider) and turning them into specialty apple cider. The tasting at the end of the tour was well worth the price of admission (free, recommended). Finally we arrived at Victoria, the capital of British Columbia, at the southern tip of Vancouver Island.
Victoria is the San Francisco of Canada. It has history, class, charm, fine old buildings, bracing sea air, a wharf, lots of tourists, and plenty of good restaurants. You could spend days walking the streets, admiring the buildings, and visiting the museums and gardens.
I'm always delighted to find a neat small town on the outskirts of a large one, and I'm glad I found Sidney, a northern suburb of Victoria and a gem of a place. It's really small, just the right size for strolling around, yet has half a dozen little bookstores, delicious restaurants, and good chocolate. I had a fine dinner at Beacon Landing (recommended) and found artisan chocolate ice cream in a little chocolate shop on Beacon St. (recommended).
The time had come
We had been in Canada for more than two months, wending our way in a circuitous route from Ontario to British Columbia. Now the time had come for us to return to the United States. Passport in hand, we headed for a different ferry, one that would take us from Vancouver Island to Washington state.
The Ferry
If you've never ridden a ferry, it's fun. On foot or bicycle, it's easy and cheap. In a vehicle, you have to line up and pay a lot of money, then line up again and wait until it's time to get on the ferry. When the vehicles in front of you start moving, you follow them across a ramp and onto the ship and park where they tell you to. Then you can leave your vehicle and wander around, admiring the view, buying something to eat, or going out on the deck to feel the wind in your face. When the voyage is over, you follow the vehicle ahead of you and drive off the ferry back onto land. We saw cars, motorcycles, pickups pulling vacation trailers, RVs of all sizes, even a big truck with semi trailer. The cost is based on the size of the vehicle and the length of the trip. For an ordinary car, it's about thirty cents a minute, but for Cruisemaster it was more like a dollar, because of extra height and length.
Vancouver Island
The ferry took us to Nanaimo, on the east coast of Vancouver Island. Although we had hoped to immediately discover a Garden of Eden, Nanaimo was a busy port town, so we headed north up the coast in search of smaller towns and bucolic beauty. We spent a few days meandering through Parksville, Courtenay, and Campbell River up into the wilderness of Sayward and Telegraph Cove. It was a lovely drive through deeply green mountainous countryside with cool, damp sea air. We had wanted to drive over to the west coast of the island to see the Pacific Ocean and maybe spot some whales, but cold, rainy weather there deterred us. Instead we headed south to Duncan, where I took a tour of the Merridale Apple Cider Mill, a small operation that grows its own special apples (varieties grown in England especially for making cider) and turning them into specialty apple cider. The tasting at the end of the tour was well worth the price of admission (free, recommended). Finally we arrived at Victoria, the capital of British Columbia, at the southern tip of Vancouver Island.
Victoria is the San Francisco of Canada. It has history, class, charm, fine old buildings, bracing sea air, a wharf, lots of tourists, and plenty of good restaurants. You could spend days walking the streets, admiring the buildings, and visiting the museums and gardens.
I'm always delighted to find a neat small town on the outskirts of a large one, and I'm glad I found Sidney, a northern suburb of Victoria and a gem of a place. It's really small, just the right size for strolling around, yet has half a dozen little bookstores, delicious restaurants, and good chocolate. I had a fine dinner at Beacon Landing (recommended) and found artisan chocolate ice cream in a little chocolate shop on Beacon St. (recommended).
The time had come
We had been in Canada for more than two months, wending our way in a circuitous route from Ontario to British Columbia. Now the time had come for us to return to the United States. Passport in hand, we headed for a different ferry, one that would take us from Vancouver Island to Washington state.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Cruisemaster's Further Adventures
Cruisemaster, our RV, had been performing faithfully since Minnesota. Then, between Vancouver and Squamish,...
Bam!
We suddenly heard a curious noise. Every time the right front wheel went around, it went "Bam!" I stopped, got out and looked underneath but couldn't see anything unusual, and couldn't imagine what could be wrong. I started up again and tentatively tried driving slow, which produced Bam!...Bam!...Bam! Then I speed up a little, and got Bam!Bam!Bam! It didn't stop, but it didn't get any worse either, so I decided to try to drive, gingerly, to a garage. I got quizzical stares from pedestrians and bicycle riders, but nine slow miles later, I pulled into a nice Midas Muffler shop. The kind people there took me right in, diagnosed the problem (a small scrap of metal caught in the disk brake) and sent me on my way — for free! Thanks, Midas!
The Steps
When you opened the RV's side door, you could flip down two folding steps to make it easy to step down to the ground. The steps had a nice, uniform, rectangular shape. I always remembered to flip them up before driving away from a camp site, until one day in Squamish. They were still down when I crossed a narrow bridge, and I heard a horrible scraping sound from over there where the steps were. When I stopped to look, I found that the steps were no longer rectangular but were swept back into a streamlined shape, and they no longer flipped up. In short, they were magngled beyond repair, so I spent a while on the ground with a wrench removing the steps and disposing of them in a dumpster. I never really liked them, anyway (sour grapes!) but until I figure out what to do about it, I really must remember to exit the RV carefully, as that first step is now a big one... all the way to the ground.
The Brakes
The brakes had performed perfectly during our long crossing of the flat prairie provinces, but here in mountainous B.C. I noticed some changes. The brake pedal started feeling a little soft and very slowly descended. Then came the time I stepped on the brake and the pedal went right to the floorboards. Yikes! Further tests showed that the brakes worked Ok most of the time, which was fortunate, since we were in mountainous territory and it was a couple of days before we could get to a town with a mechanic. Feeling a surge of loyalty to Midas after their splendid service earlier, I stopped at a Midas and they replaced the master brake cylinder, only this time they charged for their work.
Cruisemaster is 28 years old. For a vehicle this age, we have to expect things like this will happen and take them in stride.
Bam!
We suddenly heard a curious noise. Every time the right front wheel went around, it went "Bam!" I stopped, got out and looked underneath but couldn't see anything unusual, and couldn't imagine what could be wrong. I started up again and tentatively tried driving slow, which produced Bam!...Bam!...Bam! Then I speed up a little, and got Bam!Bam!Bam! It didn't stop, but it didn't get any worse either, so I decided to try to drive, gingerly, to a garage. I got quizzical stares from pedestrians and bicycle riders, but nine slow miles later, I pulled into a nice Midas Muffler shop. The kind people there took me right in, diagnosed the problem (a small scrap of metal caught in the disk brake) and sent me on my way — for free! Thanks, Midas!
The Steps
When you opened the RV's side door, you could flip down two folding steps to make it easy to step down to the ground. The steps had a nice, uniform, rectangular shape. I always remembered to flip them up before driving away from a camp site, until one day in Squamish. They were still down when I crossed a narrow bridge, and I heard a horrible scraping sound from over there where the steps were. When I stopped to look, I found that the steps were no longer rectangular but were swept back into a streamlined shape, and they no longer flipped up. In short, they were magngled beyond repair, so I spent a while on the ground with a wrench removing the steps and disposing of them in a dumpster. I never really liked them, anyway (sour grapes!) but until I figure out what to do about it, I really must remember to exit the RV carefully, as that first step is now a big one... all the way to the ground.
The Brakes
The brakes had performed perfectly during our long crossing of the flat prairie provinces, but here in mountainous B.C. I noticed some changes. The brake pedal started feeling a little soft and very slowly descended. Then came the time I stepped on the brake and the pedal went right to the floorboards. Yikes! Further tests showed that the brakes worked Ok most of the time, which was fortunate, since we were in mountainous territory and it was a couple of days before we could get to a town with a mechanic. Feeling a surge of loyalty to Midas after their splendid service earlier, I stopped at a Midas and they replaced the master brake cylinder, only this time they charged for their work.
Cruisemaster is 28 years old. For a vehicle this age, we have to expect things like this will happen and take them in stride.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Canada — Vancouver
Vancouver is a big urban area, a city surrounded by suburbs, with more people than any place we've been since we left the Twin Cities two months ago. It's in a beautiful setting, with mountains all around and the ocean lapping at its feet. (Well, not the ocean itself, but a sound the connects to the ocean, the same way Puget Sound connects Seattle to the ocean.)
Coming after all our travels across the prairies and the mountains, it was a bit of a shock and a pain, having to deal with freeways and lots of other drivers on the road. Plus not being able to find places, even with the help of my GPS. I had figured that the GPS, hooked up to my laptop PC, would make it easy to navigate around cities, but no. When I typed in the name of an RV park, it never heard of it. So I typed in the exact address, and it still couldn't find it. (Thanks, Garmin!) So we had to navigate the old fashioned way, looking at a map.
I took the light rail downtown and walked around, looking at the buildings and people. Gas Town, China Town, small neighborhoods but interesting. As I walked past the public library I noticed employees on strike, so I chatted with one for a few minutes. They'd been on strike for five weeks, their main issue being wage equity between men and women workers. (Amazing, isn't it, that it's still being fought, thirty years after we had our consciousness raised about equal pay for equal work?)
I rode the passenger ferry across to North Vancouver, just for the fun of it, and noticed the ferry was clean, well designed for fast boarding and disembarking of passengers, and well run. Their first light rail system was constructed decades ago, and they liked it so much they built a second. Trains run every few minutes and carry lots of passengers. The trains are automatic — there's no human driving involved — and they were built elevated (in the suburbs) and underground (downtown) so a train never crosses a road, completely eliminating any chance of a train colliding with a car. (If only Minneapolis had done that along Hiawatha...)
I also went to the fair, which happened to be running in Vancouver, but it turned out to be nothing like the magnificent Minnesota State Fair — it was more the size of the county fair in Owatonna. To my delight, they had the same kind of hucksters selling slicers and dicers, pots and pans, and miracle mops. They also had corn dogs and mini donuts, but no milk booth and no chocolate chip cookies. (Later I went into a shopping mall looking for the Canadian equivalent of Mrs. Field's cookies, but they didn't have any. Canadians don't know what they're missing!)
Vancouver is what you would get if you moved Minneapolis to the west coast, and you would gain beautiful mountains, cooler summers, warmer winters, and an ocean. And you'd lose the mosquitoes. There's a lot to like about that.
Squamish
Soon tired of the big city, we headed up the coast to Squamish (and no, that isn't a misspelling of "squeamish" as my spell-check thinks). It's a small town with a curious past: It was founded over a hundred years ago during the mining and lumbering booms, but its only access to Vancouver was by water. It was only fifty years later that a road was built and Squamish had better access to Vancouver.
We enjoyed the small-town atmosphere and Saturday farmer's market, which included arts and crafts and massage as well as fruit and vegetables. But now Squamish has two colleges, and in 2010, Winter Olympic events will be held just up the road at the Whistler ski resort. Property values have already risen dramatically, and development has been in strip malls and subdivisions up and down the highway. Can Squamish retain its small-town charm? I sure hope so.
Between Squamish and Vancouver there's a mining museum. We stopped and I toured the copper mine — the tour actually takes you inside the mine and they demonstrate how mining trechniques changed through the years, from hammers pounding drills to compressed air machines. (Recommended.)
The drive between Vancouver and Squamish is incredibly scenic. The road rises as it hugs the mountainside, and you get views out over the sound to steep mountains, some with snow on their peaks, rising majestically from the water. To my eye, it's right up there with the sights of Jasper and Banff parks.
Coming after all our travels across the prairies and the mountains, it was a bit of a shock and a pain, having to deal with freeways and lots of other drivers on the road. Plus not being able to find places, even with the help of my GPS. I had figured that the GPS, hooked up to my laptop PC, would make it easy to navigate around cities, but no. When I typed in the name of an RV park, it never heard of it. So I typed in the exact address, and it still couldn't find it. (Thanks, Garmin!) So we had to navigate the old fashioned way, looking at a map.
I took the light rail downtown and walked around, looking at the buildings and people. Gas Town, China Town, small neighborhoods but interesting. As I walked past the public library I noticed employees on strike, so I chatted with one for a few minutes. They'd been on strike for five weeks, their main issue being wage equity between men and women workers. (Amazing, isn't it, that it's still being fought, thirty years after we had our consciousness raised about equal pay for equal work?)
I rode the passenger ferry across to North Vancouver, just for the fun of it, and noticed the ferry was clean, well designed for fast boarding and disembarking of passengers, and well run. Their first light rail system was constructed decades ago, and they liked it so much they built a second. Trains run every few minutes and carry lots of passengers. The trains are automatic — there's no human driving involved — and they were built elevated (in the suburbs) and underground (downtown) so a train never crosses a road, completely eliminating any chance of a train colliding with a car. (If only Minneapolis had done that along Hiawatha...)
I also went to the fair, which happened to be running in Vancouver, but it turned out to be nothing like the magnificent Minnesota State Fair — it was more the size of the county fair in Owatonna. To my delight, they had the same kind of hucksters selling slicers and dicers, pots and pans, and miracle mops. They also had corn dogs and mini donuts, but no milk booth and no chocolate chip cookies. (Later I went into a shopping mall looking for the Canadian equivalent of Mrs. Field's cookies, but they didn't have any. Canadians don't know what they're missing!)
Vancouver is what you would get if you moved Minneapolis to the west coast, and you would gain beautiful mountains, cooler summers, warmer winters, and an ocean. And you'd lose the mosquitoes. There's a lot to like about that.
Squamish
Soon tired of the big city, we headed up the coast to Squamish (and no, that isn't a misspelling of "squeamish" as my spell-check thinks). It's a small town with a curious past: It was founded over a hundred years ago during the mining and lumbering booms, but its only access to Vancouver was by water. It was only fifty years later that a road was built and Squamish had better access to Vancouver.
We enjoyed the small-town atmosphere and Saturday farmer's market, which included arts and crafts and massage as well as fruit and vegetables. But now Squamish has two colleges, and in 2010, Winter Olympic events will be held just up the road at the Whistler ski resort. Property values have already risen dramatically, and development has been in strip malls and subdivisions up and down the highway. Can Squamish retain its small-town charm? I sure hope so.
Between Squamish and Vancouver there's a mining museum. We stopped and I toured the copper mine — the tour actually takes you inside the mine and they demonstrate how mining trechniques changed through the years, from hammers pounding drills to compressed air machines. (Recommended.)
The drive between Vancouver and Squamish is incredibly scenic. The road rises as it hugs the mountainside, and you get views out over the sound to steep mountains, some with snow on their peaks, rising majestically from the water. To my eye, it's right up there with the sights of Jasper and Banff parks.
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