After my wonderful drive from Princeton, north along the Tulameen River to Coalmont and then up the Otter Valley, I arrived in the late afternoon at Kentucky-Alleyne Provincial Park. Thankfully, this park has multiple First Come First Served sites and I was able to get a good site just a minute away from the white clay beach and turquoise waters of Kentucky Lake. I have always wanted to visit this provincial park, and am so glad I finally did!
The white clay beach was a little slippy but nice underfoot, and gives the water this glorious tropical colour. The temperature was very refreshing and lovely for wading.
I took my camp chair down to the beach and sat for a while, reading and then writing in my journal. Happy kids came and went, and anglers fished from small kayaks or rubber boats on the far right side of the lake. After my time at the beach, I had fun watching and photographing the ground squirrels that live beside my campsite.
After dinner, I walked from my campsite past the two small ponds which lie between Kentucky and Alleyne lakes.
West Pond.West Pond again, with the trail looking back towards my campsite area on Kentucky Lake.
Lake Alleyne, only a five minute walk from Kentucky Lake, was beautiful too with its serene blues and greens, and it offered lakefront campsites as well as many spacious forested sites in a nearby loop.
Alleyne Lake, from near the boat ramp.
An early evening rain had me reading in my camper for a while, and then I exited again at dusk to see that the clouds were clearing and the first stars and a bright crescent moon were visible. I made a final short walk of the day on the road alongside the lake, marvelling at the evocative calls of a loon in the distance, and then I spied a large mule deer tiptoeing through several lakefront campsites. Such a lovely way to end the day.
The next morning, I tidied up the camper after breakfast and then parked at the day use area, ready to hike the 4 km trail around Kentucky Lake. The trail was wonderful! Mostly shady, the forested path stayed close to the lake all the way around, continuously offering glimpses and then wider views of the lovely turquoise water.
A view from the start of the trail, near the boat ramp, and looking back towards the lakefront campsites.
A few times I scampered the short distance downslope to stand at the edge of the lake and I saw long trailing schools of young trout in the clear green water. (At the boat ramp, I had seen two very big trout – a good place for casting!)
Halfway up the lake, I started hearing the iconic “Hinterland Who’s Who” calls of a loon, and those calls were answered at a distance by a second loon. It was so exciting to hear! Then, even more exciting, a short while later I saw the pair of loons, now side by side, with two young ones trailing behind! Oh how I wish my photos were better!
As I neared the end of Kentucky Lake, the water became more shallow, greener in colour, and edged in rushes.
I inadvertently disturbed a young Canada Goose family, and they left the shore and headed away from me towards the other side of the lake.
I rounded the top of the lake, surprised that there was no incoming or outgoing stream to cross, and later learned that both Kentucky and Alleyne are kettle lakes and are fed by springs.
And then I was on the other shore, causing the cautious goose family to change direction and head back towards their original side of the lake.
I continued on the return portion of the trail, and again saw the loon family as I neared the central part of the lake.
One chick was braver than the other and headed towards (what I assume is) “Dad” several times while the other chick stayed so close in to Mum that I began to wonder if I had really seen two chicks before.This is the clearest photo I have of this gorgeous bird.
Of course, the beautiful and shifting colours of the lake held much of my attention, but there were also some trail-side beauties that were worth a closer look, including wild rose, thread-leaved phacelia, purple penstemon, and red paintbrush.
All too soon I was finished my anti-clockwise loop, ending at the small clay beach near where I had camped. This is my last image of lovely Kentucky Lake.
It is definitely a place to revisit, and so I returned later in the summer with Brent and Daniel for a two-night camp. We had so much fun swimming on the hot August days in the clean, cool water, and at night the sky was amazing with the milky way clear and bright and many shooting stars. Thank you Kentucky-Alleyne Provincial Park!
This excursion was inspired by the “Ghost Towns, Ghost Trails” chapter of Liz Bryan’s book “Exploring the Interior – Country Roads of British Columbia.” It features a walk along the Tulameen River to see the Vermillion Cliffs, a visit to the beautiful Swan Lake Sanctuary just five minutes northeast of Princeton, and a drive north along the Tulameen River valley to Coalmont, Granite Creek historic site, Tulameen, and the Otter Valley. I ended this day trip with a night of camping at the wonderfully scenic Kentucky-Alleyne Provincial Park.
I left Vancouver early and tolerated the ride east on the busy Highway 1 to Hope. I was happy to join Highway 3 and always love the drive from Hope, through Manning Park, to Princeton as I can reconnect with two of my very favourite rivers, the Skagit and the Similkameen. On this trip, I became acquainted with a new river, the Tulameen, which joins the Similkameen just a little ways past the historic one-lane bridge in downtown Princeton.
Upon arrival in Princeton, I parked at the end of Ridgewood Drive and made my way down the steep slope on the Tulameen Trail which forms part of the Trans Canada Trail. On this section, and for a further 65 kilometers, the TCT follows the rail bed of the abandoned Vancouver, Victoria and Eastern Railway (VV&E) which competed with the Kettle Valley Railway at the turn of the century as a route to the coast.
Very soon, I was crossing the old VV&E railway bridge built over the beautiful Tulameen River.
The first part of the path was paved and, as usual, I enjoyed taking photos of wild flowers along the way.
The trail paralleled the river and after fifteen minutes of easy walking I reached the Vermillion Cliffs, a crumbling rock outcrop also known as the Red Ochre Cliffs. The colours were vibrant and varied – layers of red, orange, cream, yellow, and black. For the indigenous peoples here, vermilion was called tulameen and Princeton was known by them as Yak Tulameen, “the place where red earth was traded.”
Here is a view of the outcrop from the banks of the river.
And here are some close-ups of some of the colourful rock layers and crushed red ochre.
Along the base of the cliffs there were fan-shaped accumulations of rock chips formed by deposition. A close up of the chips reveals the beautiful array of rock colours.
On the return trip, I was caught in a thunder shower and got soaking wet, but that was okay as the downpour was short-lived and it cooled the air nicely. Here is the Tulameen River bridge again, this time with the path wet but drying quickly (just like me), and beyond it is a 1063 foot long railway tunnel, built by the VV&E in 1910, which travels under Highway 3 and the narrow ridge which separates the Similkameen and Tulameen valleys.
It was a wonderful walk! Afterwards, I drove around the historic western-style town of Princeton, which was named “Vermillion Forks” by the first Europeans to the area, and then renamed “Princeton” in 1860 to commemorate a visit to Canada that year by the Prince of Wales. Then, feeling a little tired, I drove several kilometers east of Princeton to the town’s municipal campsite on the banks of the Similkameen where I had a relaxing evening camped by the riverside.
The next day, I packed up early and went for a morning visit to the very special, 57 hectare Swan Lake Sanctuary, just a five minute drive northeast of Princeton on the Princeton Summerland road. What a beautiful place!
Swan Lake is a small “kettle” lake (formed in a bowl-shaped hollow left by a melting glacier), and it is surrounded by gently undulating hills covered in native grasses and meadow flowers, and dotted with ponderosa pines and other conifers.
The sanctuary is noted for bird life and 128 different species have been spotted here. My bird photography skills and equipment are both sorely lacking but here are two images of birds that are new to me.
This is an Eastern King bird, a species I first met recently at Juniper Beach Provincial Park so it’s not strictly new to me. But at Swan Lake, I also saw the Western King Bird (with a lovely pale yellow belly) which I was able to identify but unable to photograph.This is a Yellow-headed Blackbird. Larger than a Red-winged Blackbird, he has (in my opinion) a most unattractive call!
I spent some time resting at one of the two bird blinds built on the hillside above the lake, and watched the blackbirds as well as a pair of coots with their one chick, a mallard couple with ten ducklings, and the new-to-me and very striking ruddy ducks with their bright blue bills.
Along the meadow trails, I saw many different types of butterflies, as well as tiny blue dragonflies, but they were all too fast for me to photograph. Lovely wild flowers, however, stand politely still (unless there’s a breeze), and I learned one new name thanks to an information board – the pale yellow flower is called salsify.
Here are several more photos from my lovely walk in the Swan Lake sanctuary.
And now the best photo of all!
After my visit to the Swan Lake Sanctuary, I took the Tulameen Road north out of Princeton towards Coalmont. This road rose quickly to high above the river and there were many sections where stopping was not allowed because of rock fall hazards on the cliff-side of the roadway. There was one pull out where I was able to safely stop to photograph the Tulameen River below.
In this zoomed-in shot of the hoodoo-like cliffs, you can see the Trans Canada Trail snaking along beside the river on the abandoned rail bed of the VV&E railway.
Soon, I arrived in Coalmont, a place out of time it seemed. Three lovely old buildings, empty and fading, but still beautiful, captured my immediate attention. Built in the first decade of the 1900s, Coalmont once hoped to be “the City of Destiny, the coal-mining metropolis of southern B.C.” with a predicted population of 10,000 inhabitants. The surface coal, however, was quickly exhausted and the deeper seams in the area were thin and not very profitable. By the 1940s all mines in the area had closed, but not before disaster struck at the Number 4 mine in nearby Blakeburn. There, a huge explosion in 1930 buried 45 miners underground.
I had arrived in Coalmont around noon, and there was a deep stillness to the place, with no-one to be seen, no dogs barking, no cars driving. There was just the pleasing sound of the hot, dry breeze stirring the cottonwoods, and the silent accompaniment of tiny bits of cottonwood fluff floating by in the air.
There were quite a few dilapidated dwellings, with yards full of old vehicles and trailers, hoarder-style, as well as some tidier homes. I know that old cars cannot decompose and become earth, but these specimens were making a good attempt!
After my walk through Coalmont, I drove to the Tulameen River at the edge of town and crossed over the Coalmont Bridge.
Two kilometers south of the bridge is the abandonded town site of Granite Creek – sometimes called Granite City – which was briefly the third largest town in B.C. after a large gold nugget was found in the creek by a cowboy, Johnny Chance, in 1885. Once the site of more than 200 buildings, including 13 saloons, the place is now almost completely vacant. Set on a grassy flat next to the creek, there are just a few surviving remnants of cabins and bits of foundations, and depressions left by old cellars and the diggings of treasure hunters. Grasses and wild rose are taking over, but there is a very good walking tour with sign boards that detail the history of this place so that it is not completely forgotten.
I walked down to the creek and of course looked for any large nuggets of gold that might be found, hopefully just sitting there, glimmering in the rush of water.
Alas, there were none. Amazingly, the miners had also found a white mineral intermixed with the gold in their pans that was very difficult to separate out and was just dumped back into the river. The mineral was platinum, but it was unknown to the miners at the time. Apparently, the Tulameen River system and Russia’s Amur River are the only places in the world where free platinum is found. In her “Country Roads of British Columbia”, Liz Bryan tells the story of one miner, a Swede named Johanssen, who had buried a bucket of the white stuff beside his cabin door – 10 kilograms worth! His cabin burned down in one of the fires which destroyed Granite Creek after the town was abandoned. Legend has it that the bucket is still there, somewhere, but (again, alas) digging is not permitted at this historic site.
Still, there were a few more treasures for me to be had just by continuing my journey north. I left Granite Creek and Coalmont somewhat reluctantly and drove up to Tulameen, a slightly larger and much tidier town that seemed to favour the present rather than the past. I stopped for a quick lunch at the neat and tidy park at the south end of Otter Lake, right on the edge of the town.
After a few more kilometres, the road turned into gravel and continued north, following the west side of Otter Lake, and then the narrow Otter River Valley. Deep green grazing land was strung between forested slopes and was punctuated by small marshy lakes and isolated ranch houses, barns, and corrals. I was mindful of the fact that the road I was travelling with such ease in my vehicle was the same route taken by the HBC Trail of 1859, and later the old stagecoach road between Princeton and Nicola, when the gruelling journey between those two settlements took a day and a half.
As I neared the end of the Otter Valley I stopped to take a photo of an old barn across the way, and then a photo looking south back down this lush green valley.
Soon after this point, the Otter Valley disappeared behind me and the road turned and climbed quickly through a short rugged section of forest, and before I knew it I was up on the high plateau of fenced grasslands. A “Nicola Ranch” sign at one cattle guard crossing surprised me (“Nicola is a ways north of here,” I thought), and then a “Douglas Lake Ranch” sign surprised me even more. What a huge ranch that is!
I greatly enjoyed this last section of the road, with the rolling grassy hills, huge blue sky, small glimmering lakes, and the happy glimpse of a mountain blue bird. But, I was also ready for the road to join up with Highway 5A, so that a kilometre or two later I could take the short access road east to Kentucky-Alleyne Provincial Park and have some choice in the selection of a good campsite. Which luckily I did. 🙂
What a wonderful road trip on a varied and historic route from Princeton to Coalmont, the Otter Valley, and beyond. Thank you B.C. country roads!
After a restful night at Tunkwa, I rose early, had a good breakfast, and headed directly to Monck Provincial Park, located about 20 km east of Merritt on the north shore of Nicola Lake. I was hoping to get one of the very few unreserved campsites and luckily I got this great site!
Then, I was off to explore historic sites in the Nicola Valley and the beautiful open grasslands of the Nicola Plateau. I drove back towards Merritt on Monck Park Road to the junction with 5A and then turned east to travel along the south shore of Nicola Lake, enroute to tiny Quilchena. The Quilchena hotel was built in 1908 by a rancher who believed that a new CPR line would be routed through nearby Nicola. His hopes were dashed however, and the hotel was only open for nine years before closing. It reopened some forty years later, in 1958, with all of its original furnishings and fixtures intact, but with updated plumbing and heating, and five-star dining. Currently closed, I assumed because of Covid, it had a lonely and abandoned air (though the grounds were well kept), as did the nearby old-time general store and an empty farmhouse.
I continued east on Highway 5A as it paralleled Nicola Lake to the junction with Douglas Lake Road where I made a quick stop to check out a distinctive log church and a few beautiful horses. Monck Provincial Park is almost directly across the lake from here.
Then I started on the road to Douglas Lake. Inspired by Liz Bryan’s chapter entitled “Nicola River Journey”, she describes this area perfectly: “The high plateau country east of the Nicola Valley is among B.C.’s loveliest, an undulating sweep of grassland, blue with lupines in early summer, with lakes and drifts of trees in the hollows and a great sense of space and sky.”
I agree with her wholeheartedly and hope that the following photos do some justice to her description.
Darn that smudge on my camera’s sensor!
Of course, my roadside stops were also rich with close-up views as well as the far-reaching ones. Even the promised lupins were there, as well as dark blue Viper’s Bugloss, or Blueweed.
Soon, I saw the Church of St. Nicholas, built in 1889, marking the beginning of the Native settlement of Spaxomin. Access to the village was closed because of Covid 19 so I was unable to drive closer. A true, Wild West event took place in a cabin near here in 1879. The notorious McLean gang (actually four teenage boys) had holed up in the cabin after shooting a police Constable near Kamloops. They surrendered after a four day siege, were taken to a jail in New Westminster, and were later hanged. Another, turn-of-the-century crime drama took place some forty or fifty kilometers away, near Chapperon Lake, when Bill Miner and his two accomplices were arrested by a possee of mounted police for having robbed a CPR train east of Kamloops. They were taken by wagon to Nicola, and then on to Kamloops for trial. But for me today, all was quiet and peaceful.
At Spaxomin, the road turned left to continue alongside Douglas Lake. Part way up the lake, I stopped to read this historic marker from 1967 that describes the origins of the Douglas Lake Cattle Company.
John Douglas had first come to B.C. in 1870 to join the gold rush, but he changed his ambitions when he encountered these wide expanses of natural rangeland, with bunchgrass “high as a horse’s belly.” Today, the Douglas Lake Cattle Company is the largest privately owned ranch in Canada and one of the largest in North America with 271,000 acres of deeded land and access to over 1,000,000 acres of crown grazing land.
A view of Douglas Lake from about the midpoint, looking towards the location of the ranch headquarters, out of view in the distance.
At the end of the Douglas Lake, the road crossed the Nicola River which flows into the lake, and from there it was only a kilometer or two to reach the tall, western-style entry gate to the Douglas Lake home ranch. Neat, tidy, and well kept, there was a wide range of buildings, including a church, cookhouse, worker’s cabins, school, barns, workshops and machinery sheds. The attractive general store and post office have been in operation since the early 1900s.
After the ranch, Douglas Lake Road carries on, past Chapperon and Salmon Lakes and along the Salmon River, to connect with Highway 97 at Westwold. From there, one can travel south to Vernon or north to Kamloops. I decided to leave that portion of the road for another day, a good excuse for a return visit to this beautiful countryside.
On the return journey to Monck, I continued to enjoy the curving road, spectacular views, wild grasses, and big sky. I arrived at my campsite so grateful to have finally explored some of the stunning and historic Nicola Plateau. Not yet hungry for dinner, I wandered down to Monck Park’s lakefront day-use area and admired the expansive picnic area, accented with tall Douglas firs and mature Ponderosa pines, rich in colour and texture.
By the time I returned to my campsite, clouds had blown in and brought sudden rain so I cooked up a yummy dinner of ramen noodles and leftover trout under the cover my back hatch. When dinner was ready, the rain was already stopping so I ate in the open on my camp chair, overlooking the other campsites and glimpses of the lake in the distance. I read for a while after dinner, walked several loops of this family-oriented campground, and then read some more before retiring at dusk, once again so happy with my day.
The next morning, I got an early call from a family member who needed me so I promised to cut my trip short and head home. Before leaving, I enjoyed another walk by the scenic lake front and this time I encountered a young family of marmots near their home by a section of beach.
Back on the road I made a quick stop in Nicola. Founded in the 1870s, Nicola was for a time the commercial center of the area, a role now occupied by Merritt. Few buildings remain and I had actually missed seeing Nicola the day before, on my way to Monck Park – I must have blinked! On one side of the road stands the old courthouse, built in 1913. Looking a bit rundown, the only sign of life was a marmot who had been sunning himself on the front steps and then disappeared down a hole in the porch as I approached.
Behind the courthouse was an impressive old barn, and nearby there was a country gift shop.
Across the street was a collection of small pioneer homes and the little white church of St. Andrew, built in 1876. Owned and operated by the Nicola Ranch, some of the homes have been restored and updated for use as self-catered tourist accommodation. Again, possibly because of Covid, everything was quiet and still, with not a soul around as I wandered about and admired the historic buildings, some with signs like “Harness Maker (1890)” and “Banker’s House (1906)”. The most well-kept building was the Nicola Ranch Office, located in a large and beautiful old farmhouse.
My peaceful little stop in historic Nicola was over, and I had to ready myself psychologically for the upcoming speed and traffic of the Coquihalla Highway, and after that the speed and traffic of Highway 1. All went well and I was soon safely home, but it wasn’t long before I was once again reading Liz Bryan’s book and planning another trip along the wonderful country roads of B.C.
From Highway 1, just east of Savona, I turned south onto the Tunkwa Lake Road, headed for Tunkwa Provincial Park. Nicely paved, the road rose up and travelled alongside fenced range land and through a mixture of open Douglas fir and deciduous forest, with small lakes and wetland areas dotted here and there. Around one corner, I had to stop for a very large and beautiful mule deer to pass in front of me, and moments after that, around another corner, I saw two photographers by the side of the road with some serious camera equipment. A quick glance at the direction of their giant zoom lenses and I saw a large gray owl calmly posing for them. I wanted to stop of course, but I also did not want to interfere with their shoot so I carried on a bit up the road and then stopped at a pullout beside pretty Gottan Lake.
Upon exiting the car, I heard a sharp and loud call, repeated over and over, “chip, chip, chip”. Across the road was a yellow-bellied marmot on a lichen-covered rock calling out to the morning sun, or so I thought.
I took several photos and then suddenly, off to my left, a large red-tailed hawk rose up out of the grass with great flaps of its widespread wings. It flew away from me and then dropped what I assumed was a rabbit. How exciting!
The hawk landed on a stump a short distance away and I approached (sans zoom) to get this shot.
Annoyed with me for getting closer, the hawk rose up again to the top of a tall tree. What a magnificent bird!
I went back to the marmot who was still calling, sharp and shrill, at regular intervals. I took another shot or two and then the marmot was joined by a youngster who had been peeking around the side of the rock.
Then another youngster came into view. Mum was still worriedly calling, and I finally connected the dots – the hawk had taken one of her babies.
Feeling a bit shocked by the unexpected drama of the moment, I felt sad for the marmot family, and also guilty for having caused the hawk to drop his catch. I decided it was best to leave, and I hoped that when I was gone the hawk would return to take away his meal.
Back in the car, I reversed direction, hoping that the owl would still be there, and it was! A Great Gray. Here are the best pictures I could manage.
So much wildlife! I carried on down Tunkwa Lake Road and as I approached the turnoff to the park I saw a quick flash of blue – a mountain bluebird! I was thrilled with just that brief glimpse, having hoped to see a mountain bluebird, but amazingly one was waiting in the tree at the edge of my campsite to welcome me. So pretty! He didn’t stay long enough for me to photograph, but as mountain bluebirds have long been seen as a symbol of good luck, I was happy nonetheless.
Tunkwa Provincial Park encompasses a large area of mid-elevation grasslands, forest, lakes, wetlands, and bog. The two largest lakes, Tunkwa and Leighton, which feature three lakeside campgrounds, are man-made and very popular with fishers. My tidy little white car was an anomaly as most of the other campers had compound-like encampments with big RVs and trucks, boats, assorted shelters, ATVs etc. Luckily I was able to find a quiet spot at the edge of the Leighton North campground, close to the lakefront and near a stream and a trail which meandered prettily towards one of the other campgrounds. I settled in and then prepared lunch (a giant pancake with strawberries) and ate it sitting happily on my camp chair by the lake.
There is a 4.3 km trail that encircles Leighton Lake, with a 1.2 km extension up to a bluff that overlooks another small lake. I had originally planned to do this walk today, but signs warned of recent cougar sightings so I reluctantly decided not to walk it alone. I will definitely return to camp here again with family and will walk the trail then. So, I read for awhile by the lake and then decided to walk the short trail towards the main Leighton campground. It was so beautiful! Treasure after treasure. It took me over an hour to walk the 300 meters! First, as I approached the little bridge over the stream, I’m sure I saw the tail end of a river otter where the stream met the lake! I waited on the bridge briefly, hoping for a better sighting, but the otter did not show again. While I waited, I admired red-winged blackbirds and a Brewer’s blackbird, busy among the cattails and rushes of the small marshy area.
Shortly after crossing the stream, there were patches of this beautiful wildflower called three-flowered avens, also known as old man’s whiskers or prairie smoke because of their feather plume-like fruits after flowering.
And then more kinds of wildflowers were to be found in the grasses as I walked along, including early blue violet, wild strawberry, shooting stars, and upland larkspur.
Humble dandelions had been transformed by some small creature (probably very cute) into this pretty display of colour.
And the trees, cones, mushrooms and lichens were no less beautiful to photograph.
And, lucky me, where the trail crossed a road there was a birdhouse affixed to the stop sign and a mountain bluebird was busy collecting insects and feeding its babies or possibly its mate inside!
What a wonderful walk, a walk of wonders!
Next, I decided to fish for my supper off the dock at Tunkwa Lake.
I fished for about 20 minutes or so, happily, and enjoyed watching a beautiful loon swim quite close to the dock, fishing as well. Then a grandma arrived with her two pre-teen grandkids to teach them how to fish. On only her second cast she caught a large silver rainbow trout (her grandkids didn’t seem too impressed but I was!). She turned to me and asked if I wanted the trout because her son had been out in a boat early and had already caught their limit. I almost said “no”, having wanted to catch my own fish, but I went with the old adage to “never look a gift fish in the mouth”, and so said “yes, thank you.”
What a dinner!
I finished off the evening quietly, reading in my camp chair by the lake until dusk. Tomorrow I would continue my journey south to the junction with the Nicola Highway and then east to explore cattle country, but as I settled in for the night my thoughts were of returning soon to beautiful Tunkwa Provincial Park.
After my exciting day in the Deadman Valley I relaxed at my Juniper Beach campsite. The Thompson River seemed higher than the day before and was running very fast, sometimes carrying branches and even one whole tree quickly downstream. The camp host assured me that the river wouldn’t continue to rise high enough in the night to sweep me and my car away!
The next morning dawned bright and warm and I took a short walk around the campsite before breakfast, stopping to admire the birds that I met.
An Eastern Kingbird.
A Cedar Waxwing in a juniper tree.
A male House Sparrow.
Then, it was up to the highway, but not before I had to stop for this racing, roaring, rumbling east bound train, colourfully stained with graffiti.
The drive east on Highway 1 from Juniper Beach to Kamloops, high above the Thompson River, was beautiful. The city, however, has grown a lot since I was last there, and I didn’t like all of the busyness and traffic after several days of being alone in quiet spaces. I drove quickly through town, crossed to the north side of the Thompson River over the wooden-trussed Red Bridge, and made my way west along Tranquille Drive in order to do the Mara Loop hike. (Hikekamloops.ca is a great resource for finding hikes in the area, rated by difficulty, with detailed trail descriptions and excellent photos).
Mara Loop is a full-sun hike, just over 4 km, with enough elevation gain to give excellent views of the Thompson River and of the dry sage-covered hills that rise up on both sides of the valley. The trail started on an old road which first climbed steeply north and then turned east.
With great views back towards the west.
And lovely close up views of some scattered wildflowers and prickly cactus.
A few snags of grand old Ponderosa pines, scattered here and there, accented the blueness of the sky, and one old-timer lay dramatically on its side.
The trail circled back towards the river, dipped into a small ravine, and rose up again to far-reaching views.
A strategically placed bench was a great place for a rest and while I was there a beautiful harrier hawk soared slowly past me at eye level, only meters away. A short while later, I spied a very large, bright white bird flying high in the sky – it was an American pelican!
The descent from the bench back to the start of the trail was quite steep, but fun, and I continued to enjoy the colours of the sage and grasses, and the deeper colours of the flowers and fields as I came down off of the hills.
Descending towards the west.
Looking across to the “islands” of flooded willows and cottonwoods in the Tranquille Wildlife Management Area.
Sweet smelling purple alfalfa.
Bright yellow canola.
And then, the excitement of a train!
Pleased with my hike, I checked into my Kamloops accommodation by the river, enjoyed a shower, a rest, and a picnic dinner overlooking the Thompson. Then, as evening was approaching, I took a quick drive up to Rose Hill Park for a short walk. This time, my car did all of the climbing, quick and steep up Rose Hill Drive to the park which has a frisbee golf course and many trails which meander over the hillside, with fantastic views of Kamloops below.
I enjoyed the quiet, the cool evening air, the flowers, and the close-up beauty of grasses and young ponderosa pines. If I lived in Kamloops, I would walk here often.
The next morning, I was up bright and early for the drive back west along Highway 1 towards Savona to hike to the Balancing Rock. I stopped at the Kamloops Lake View Point for this lovely morning view of the sun rising over Kamloops Lake.
I climbed a rocky knoll at the viewpoint and scanned the land westward, finding the small group of hoodoos, tucked against the hills, with Balancing Rock off to the left of the group, by itself.
The trailhead was 1.5 km further west on the highway, with a small pullout and space to park. The start of the short, 1.5 km trail to Balancing Rock was very pretty and peaceful in the morning quiet.
One of my first views, zoomed in, of Balancing Rock.
The hill-top trail continued towards Balancing Rock, circled around and above it, with a steep trail down if one was feeling sure-footed.
I continued past Balancing Rock a short distance to see the grouping of clay hoodoos.
And then I returned to Balancing Rock and decided to brave the short but steep and rock-slippery trail down for a closer view.
The boulder weighs multiple tons!
Closer.
And closer.
Eeek! I didn’t stay this close very long!
Happy from my morning hike, I continued my drive west, turning south before reaching Savona onto the Tunkwa Lake Road, headed to Tunkwa Provincial Park where my B.C. country roads adventure continued.
For many years, I have owned this excellent book entitled “Exploring the Interior – Country Roads of British Columbia”, by Liz Bryan. I have often pulled it off of my shelf on quiet evenings and read and reread its chapters, each of which is organized as a road trip along the interesting back roads of B.C. In every chapter, Bryan includes a map of the suggested route, beautiful photographs, and lots of interesting facts about the historical, geographical, geological, and natural history of the area described. It is a pleasure to read, and offers many well-chosen and often surprising stories from our province’s history. So now, with the freedom of early retirement, and with international travel unavailable because of Covid 19 (sorry I had to cancel, dear Ireland, maybe next year!), I have finally begun travelling some of these marvelous routes.
For my first adventure, I chose the chapter which has most intrigued me, “Along the Deadman River” – with red rocks, sage brush, rattle snakes and hoodoos. It seemed a fitting replacement for my cancelled trip to the American Southwest. So, here we go!
First, Highway 1 east, with a stop in Hope for a nice, socially-distanced, visit with my friend Anna. Then, an unplanned detour because of a Highway 1 closure at Yale, so up the Coquihalla to Merritt, and then I connected to Highway 8 to do part of the “Nicola River Journey”. I love, love, love driving on a road that is new to me, and this was a fun road to drive as it curved along, above, and beside the rapidly flowing and almost over-flowing waters of the Nicola River.
The river and road continued to descend together from the heights of the Nicola plateau, bordered on one side by rocky, crumbling, dry, and sage-covered south-facing slopes, and on the other by greener north-facing slopes.
Looking upstream.Looking downstream.
All too soon, the Nicola River met the Thompson at Spences Bridge, and Highway 8 met up with Highway 1. I turned north on Highway 1 and enjoyed the far-reaching views of sage-covered hills, with the colours, air and scenery so different from the coast. I stopped at one pullout to pick a few branches of sage and place them on the dash to scent my car – a ritual I always do when I travel to the Thompson Valley.
From one pullout, far above the Thompson River, I could spy a dark green collection of trees at a deep bend in the river and guessed that to be Juniper Beach Provincial Park, and I was right!
Here is a closer view down to the park from the access road, just after turning off of the highway. The straight line angling in from the right foreground is the CN rail track, and on the far side of the river, is the CP track. Long freight trains travel east and west along these tracks day and night. Noisy, but in a thrilling and exciting way if you like trains!
And there is my campsite beside the very full and very fast flowing Thompson River.
And a view of the river from my bed!
I took a nice walk several times around the tidy campsite loop to stretch my legs after a long but happy day of driving. I enjoyed the warm dry air and the sound of crickets, and I was thrilled to see cedar waxwings, one of the most beautiful of birds, feeding in the Juniper trees.
I relaxed, prepared dinner, and watched the first of many long trains rumble by on the precarious-looking track across the river.
It was a rather noisy night! The CN trains on my side of the river actually shook the earth and my vehicle as they passed (and as I said they are L-o-n-g trains), and I found that I didn’t totally love the very loud and high-pitched squealing brakes of downhill-bound trains. But, I managed to sleep well anyways, happy to be on an adventure. 🙂
The next morning I woke, excited to explore along the Deadman River valley, a geologically-interesting valley that runs north-south and is located some 20 km east of Juniper Beach. The river is so named because Pierre Charente, a fur trader and clerk of the North West Company’s Fort Kamloops, was knifed to death on its banks in 1817. But for me, not two minutes after turning onto the Deadman-Vedette Road, my first sight was a peaceful one – two lovely mule deer foraging by the roadside, the first of many wildlife sightings on this day.
The first section of the road is paved and passes the native village of Skeetchestn where I took a photo of the graveyard.
Soon after, I met a group of horses grazing by the roadside. They were interested in me and headed closer.
And closer.
And closer!
“Well hello there. How are you today?” I’m not sure if they were expecting some treats or if they were just curious, but they looked at me for a while until I backed up slowly and carefully drove around them, stopping a little further on to take one more photo back of my equine friends.
Soon, I reached the red rock pinnacles found at Criss Creek, formed from solidified volcanic ash.
And, a little further on, the colourful cliffs of sculpted layers and cracks known locally as Split Rocks.
Then, I was on the search for some capped hoodoos hidden in the colourful hills behind this collection of old ranch fencing and corrals.
This is the best shot that I could get of the hoodoos with my zoom.
A little further down the road there was a pullout, and a small knoll that called out to me to climb it.
From atop the knoll, looking south down the Deadman Valley.From atop the knoll, looking towards the red rocks where the hoodoos are found.Zooming in on the hoodoos from another angle.
There were also sculpted, high cliffs on the west side of the road, with some basaltic columns and caves, and later another interesting hoodoo-like formation.
As well as interesting geology, the valley featured scattered ranches and beautiful grazing land with herds of cattle feeding on the lush green grass.
There were also some remnants of old cabins and ranch buildings, with wildflowers like campion and salsify adding colour and interest to a roadside stop.
Soon after this cabin, the valley bottom and ranch lands disappeared behind me as the road began to curve and climb upwards, continuing to follow the fast-flowing Deadman River between forested slopes. Then came a string of six pretty lakes, with several recreational cabins and Forest Service campsites tucked into the trees on their shores.
As I travelled the road close to Deadman Lake, I turned a corner to see a mother black bear and her three cubs in the distance!
At the sixth lake, Vaseaux, I stopped to assess the road. It climbed steeply and somewhat precariously above the lake, and a dark thunder cloud was brewing above. I had already negotiated some slippery mud and a few small washouts, and I had manoeuvered around many fallen rocks and potholes so I was feeling a bit tired. According to Liz Bryan’s book, three enticing sites still lay ahead, not that far away: Deadman Falls (an impressive 60 m high), an old gold mine (possibly haunted), and apparently the “Center of the Universe” (!) – identified as such by a visiting Tibetan monk who had meditated in a flower- and aspen-filled meadow on the high plateau above Vaseaux Lake.
A little bit disappointed, but also okay with my decision, I decided that getting close to the Center of the Universe was good enough for today, and that it was time to turn around. I greatly enjoyed the drive back down the Deadman Valley, happy that I had finally made the journey and with all that I had seen. Three wildlife sightings, however, were still to come!
At Split Rocks, I decided to take a side road that angled off towards Cache Creek as an alternate route back to my campsite.
Deadman-Cache Creek Road curved enticingly ahead up and over towards a new valley.After the first short rise, I stopped to take one last picture of the beautiful Deadman Valley, looking south, before continuing on.
I travelled several kilometers up this very scenic road as it curved around and into an open forest. Rounding one corner, I startled a huge mother black bear with two cubs, one black and one golden brown. They were very big, healthy-looking, and beautiful as they hurriedly crossed the road right in front of me. How exciting! Then, just one minute further up the road from the bears, I spied a large dog on the hillside off to my right. But was it a dog? No. A coyote? No, too big. It was a wolf! He was beautiful, with a healthy coat of gray, brown, and gold. He looked at me, headed a bit up the hill at an angle, then looked at me again before he loped his way a little further up the hill and then turned and disappeared into the forest. My camera was right next to me on the car seat, and I considered trying to get a shot, but I knew that the experience of seeing him would not last long and I didn’t wish to lose one moment of seeing my first wolf in the wild. A little further up the road, I was stopped by an unexpected “No Trespassing” sign, so I had to turn around and head back the way I had come. Close to where I had seen the wolf, I saw a young fawn by the side of the road, with no mama in sight. I said, “Be careful little deer, there is a wolf nearby!” and was reluctant to leave it, but of course I had to carry on, back to the Deadman-Vedette road and then south and west to my campsite at Juniper Beach.
What a day! Thank you very much to Liz Bryan for providing the inspiration to visit the beautiful and wildlife-filled Deadman Valley.
The sanctuary is noted for bird life and 128 different species have been spotted here. My bird photography skills and equipment are both sorely lacking but here are two images of birds that are new to me.
Two kilometers south of the bridge is the abandonded town site of Granite Creek – sometimes called Granite City – which was briefly the third largest town in B.C. after a large gold nugget was found in the creek by a cowboy, Johnny Chance, in 1885. Once the site of more than 200 buildings, including 13 saloons, the place is now almost completely vacant. Set on a grassy flat next to the creek, there are just a few surviving remnants of cabins and bits of foundations, and depressions left by old cellars and the diggings of treasure hunters. Grasses and wild rose are taking over, but there is a very good walking tour with sign boards that detail the history of this place so that it is not completely forgotten.
