Backroads of B.C. – Liz Bryan’s “Circle of Silver” – June 2026

Lac Le Jeune Provincial Park, Blanket Creek Provincial Park, Upper Arrow Lake, New Denver, Sandon, Kaslo

Hello readers. I was supposed to be on a lovely one-month trip to Ireland this June/July, but I very sadly had to cancel the trip because of a leg injury (a 110 km long-distance walk on the Kerry Way was part of my itinerary). So, after moping about that, and then dealing with a bad flu (Covid?) for two weeks, I decided to set up my Toyota Highlander camper and hit the road to cheer myself up. I took Liz Bryan’s wonderful book, “Country Roads of British Columbia, Exploring the Interior” off of the shelf and decided to begin with her “Circle of Silver” chapter. I had done part of her route years before on a camping trip with Sophie and Daniel and we had loved visiting the historic mining town of Kaslo, the Cody caves, and Ainsworth hot springs. It was worth a revisit!

The drive on Highway 1 out of Vancouver, and then up the Coquihalla went well – it felt good to be on the road again! But, by the time I arrived at Lac Le Jeune Provincial Park, one of my brand-new tires was more than half flat, and another was low on air. A kind campground neighbour helped me to change the flat tire (it was impossible for me to undo the lug nuts!) and after that was dealt with I resolved to enjoy the rest of my afternoon and evening at a new-to-me campground. I was lucky to get a great FCFS site – large, private, and quiet, that was ringed with the green of aspens and wild rose – and I had my own little trail, decorated with wildflowers, that led from my site down to the lake shore.

I explored the day use area, with its fishing dock, mooring dock, picnic area, and lake views,

and then I walked for a ways along the lakeside trail to enjoy more water views,

and more pretty wildflowers including blue flax, orange hawkweed, purple asters, and the golden-yellow treasure that is the Columbia lily.

Back in camp, I cooked up a simple dinner, read for a while, and enjoyed the presence of a very cute squirrel, and later a very cute chipmunk, who came by to visit. Then, I walked again by the lakeshore, close to dusk, as fishermen tried their luck once more, and where the call of a loon was yet another blessing and reward for having roused myself to make the journey to lovely Lac Le Jeune.

The following morning, I took the quiet and scenic back road in from Lac Le Jeune to Kamploops and arrived at a Toyota service centre just as they were opening. Three hours later, my four tires all had new valve stems, and I had enjoyed the comfortable lounge with its free coffee and wifi with not too much impatience. Then, I was back on the road, flying along on Highway 1, east to the Shuswap region with its many picturesque lakes.

I turned south on Highway 23, just before Revelstoke, to arrive a short time later at the Blanket Creek Provincial Park where again I was lucky to get a large, quiet, and private campsite. Then, I explored this park which sits on the shore of Upper Arrow Lake. Trails led to Sutherland Falls, a heritage farm site, beach access points, and a warm water lagoon that was purpose-built for swimming.

The rain came and went in sweeps throughout the afternoon and early evening, and I returned to the lakeshore often, hopeful that the clouds and mist would cease clinging so stubbornly to the surrounding mountains’ sides and peaks.

And, sure enough, for a brief time the clouds blew away to reveal a few of the snow-dappled peaks to the southeast,

and then later coalesced again, near dusk, to create this lovely blue symphony of mountains, lake, and sky.

The following morning I woke early, cooked up breakfast and coffee, and made my way south to Shelter Bay to catch the ferry across Upper Arrow Lake to Galena Bay. It was a bright morning and the ferry crossing was very fun, with lake, mountain, and forest views all around.

We landed in Galena Bay, and I headed south on H 23, electing not to stop for a soak at either Halcyon or Nakusp Hot Springs, though I know that they are both wonderful from previous visits! I did make a quick stop at beautiful Ione Falls,

and then I transitioned to Highway 6 east at Nakusp to journey up and across the Valhalla Mountains to the “Silvery Slocan”. In the early 1890s, and into the middle of the 20th century, this was an area of rich silver mines and towns that grew with energy and optimism during boom times, and then shrank when the price of silver dropped, or the mines didn’t pan out, or when catastrophes like fires and floods devastated homes, opportunities, and dreams. What remains on this route, for today’s traveller, are the stunning vistas and many fascinating historical sites that are remnants of our province’s early pioneering and industrial history. Highway 6 climbed up mountain curves to lovely Summit Lake,

and then it continued along on the east side of Slocan Lake to the tiny town of New Denver which was once a busy mining town filled with saloons, hotels, and mercantiles. Today, its remaining historic buildings, built in the late 1890s, are picturesque and well-maintained, and the old Bank of Montreal houses a fine museum that chronicles the booms and busts and operations of the local silver mines and associated enterprises. It was Canada Day, and very quiet in town, and I was drawn towards a small park at the corner of 6th and Eldorado Avenues where a brisk wind showed off our Canadian flag and a short trail led down to the rocky shore of Slocan Lake where that same wind was blowing strong and cold down the narrow lake-filled valley.

New Denver is also of historical importance to B.C. and to Canada as it was one of the sites of an internment camp for Japanese Canadians during the Second World War. Fears of a West Coast attack by the Japanese in 1941 led to the required registration of 23,512 persons of Japanese descent in Canada with the R.C.M.P., and by November of 1942, over 22,000 Japanese Canadians were relocated, and of that number over 20,000 were interned in camps, many in the B.C. interior. The Nikkei Internment Memorial Centre, with its exceptional Heiwa Teien Peace Garden, is dedicated to preserving the history of those Japanese Canadians who were interned for the duration of the war.

The Kyowakai Hall, built in 1943 by Nikkei carpenters, was a Buddhist Hall and a meeting place for the Kyowakai (“working together peacefully”) society. Now, it houses exhibits which chronicle the history of the internment here of Japanese Canadians who were dispossessed of their homes, businesses, and fishing boats, and forced to live here until the end of the war in 1949.

It is an excellent museum that moved me, and is an important reminder to all of how civil liberties can be severely eroded during times of war.

From New Denver, I transitioned to Highway 31A which led me upwards along the side of a very steep narrow valley to my next stop at Sandon, a tiny ghost town which was, amazingly, the largest town north of San Francisco for a time. Rich deposits of galena ore – a mixture of silver and lead – were discovered here in 1891 by two prospectors, Eli Carpenter and Jack Seaton, and the rush was on. Miners came from all over to stake their claims and the town grew quickly to include a city hall, opera house, churches, a hospital and school, hotels and many many saloons. Two railway lines were established to move the ore and newly-built wagon roads facilitated travel to the area. But, positioned as it was below steep mountain slopes and at the junction of two fast-flowing creeks, the town suffered much over its sixty year history including fires, floods, avalanches, and downturns when the price of silver was low. Then, Sandon was almost completely obliterated by a massive flood in 1955 when Carpenter Creek “in roaring spring flood” (as described by Liz Bryan) crushed buildings and washed away most of the town. Now, just a few original buildings remain, and there is a motley assortment of things on site, but the Sandon Historical Society has done an amazing and impressive job of preserving, chronicling, and presenting the history of this town and the surrounding area. In the photos below are Carpenter Creek, and the old city hall, built in 1900, which now houses the Prospector’s Pick which is part museum, part gift shop, and part visitors centre.

There are a huge number of old vehicles and machinery on site, including almost twenty vintage Brill trolley buses that reside here in the hopes of possibly one day being restored. They come from multiple Canadian cities, and many are from Vancouver with their route names still visible like “Main Street”, “Fraser”, and, fittingly, “Kingsway to Slocan”. There is also a locomotive, #6947, built in 1908 for the CPR, which worked here in Sandon in the Kooteney Division from 1926-1928. I particularly liked a restored and very groovy teal-green 1957 Chevrolet 2 door station wagon, and the mottled pastel pinks and blues of an old Kenworth dump truck.

I visited the Sandon Museum which is housed in the Slocan Mercantile Block. Originally a general store, it was built in 1900 and was the only building in Sandon ever to be constructed out of brick. Interned Japanese Canadians were housed here from 1942-1949. The museum is filled with historical objects and photos, most of which are thoroughly described. I was very impressed with the amount of work and care that has gone into the exhibits here.

As well as the main floor, and a mezzanine, a lower floor featured more exhibits including tools, machinery, and a construction of a typical miner’s shack.

From its earliest days as a city, Sandon was equipped with hydroelectric power and the Silversmith Power and Light station, built in 1897, is still in operation today and can be toured for free or a donation. It provides electricity to the residents of Sandon and New Denver, and it has the distinction of being Canada’s oldest continually-operating power plant.

I spent perhaps almost three hours in Sandon, and was very happy to have explored and learned about this town and its mining history. Because I was a teacher, I’ll leave you with a final photo from the museum, “The Last Class to Attend Sandon School, Grades 1 to 4, 1954”, and because I can’t resist flowers, a few photos from those found by the creek and on the hillside at Sandon.

Time to get back on the road! Highway 31A continued to climb to a summit at 1000 metres where a rest stop bordered pretty Fish Lake. There, this mama duck had nine dutiful offspring that followed her in formation away from my gentle approach, just in case!

Shortly after the summit, the road followed the curves of the rushing Kaslo River down down down towards the town of Kaslo, Kootenay Lake, and the tall mountain peaks of the Selkirk range.

The historic mining town of Kaslo is well-remembered from a former trip, and I was looking forward to reacquainting myself with its lovely old buildings and scenic location on the shores of Kootenay Lake, with mountain views all around. And, I am now looking forward to sharing that with you in my next post as I continue on my “Circle of Silver Tour.” Thank you for reading!

The Last Leg Homeward – Postcards from Canada, 2025

From Eastend Saskatchewan, across Alberta, and into Beautiful British Columbia

I drove the last leg homeward, over four days, largely on familiar territory. It was a quieter, reflective time, with fewer stops, that was less about seeing new vistas and more about saying hello to old friends (a highway, a town, a campground…). Each day started early, with solid sessions of driving, still mainly on secondary rural roads, and each ended in time for a campground dinner, quiet evening, and early night. My headache was still present each day, and most of me was fixated on getting home, but another part of me was feeling slightly melancholy, and did not want my journey to end.

I said goodbye to Eastend Saskatchewan, and rose up out of the Frenchman River valley and onto another perfectly straight stretch of prairie highway, empty of traffic.

Tractors and harvesting machinery were parked in the fields, ready for the day’s upcoming work,

or resting after the previous day’s work was done.

I turned to the north, from Saskatchewan Highway 13 onto Highway 21, to avoid a long stretch of gravel road travel, and the road took me down into and across a new section of the beautiful Frenchman River valley.

I turned west again, crossed the border into Alberta, and later turned south onto Highway 685. Here, the road swooped down into and across another wide flat-bottomed valley,

with distant views of the 40 Mile Reservoir. These gorgeous valleys stir up strong feelings of wanting to be a land baron!

Highway 685 ended at the tiny town of Etzikom, Alberta, a new place for me. A sign at the edge of town advertised a windmill museum so I thought that I would make a quick stop as I love windmills. All was dead still in this town as I drove down its main street at about midday. The air was heavy, and there was a sense of abandonment and disuse.

I turned down one of the side streets and passed a few tidy houses and parked cars, but there wasn’t a person in sight, including at the town’s Jubilee Park where I just had to stop because the playground equipment was all pretty much identical to the equipment that I had played on as a kid in the late sixties and early seventies in Cumberland’s Kin Park.

There was no one anywhere around – not one kid, nor any moms with toddlers, and not even a passing car. There was just this empty and deeply silent place, seemingly trapped in time, like something from a Twilight Zone episode. But, despite the slight sense of eeriness, I loved the playground memories that the equipment sparked and I felt compelled to linger. I sat on the swings to add a bit of movement and life to the park, and I wanted to try out the teeter totter but I didn’t have a partner. (One always needed a teeter totter partner that you could trust, not one of those friends who thought it was funny to jump off suddenly when they were at the bottom and you were at the top!)

I left the park and drove a couple of blocks to arrive at the Etzikom Museum and Historic Windmill Centre which was a much grander enterprise than expected! I was drawn first to the windmills, arranged to the side and behind the large museum building which was once the town’s school. There are almost twenty historic and varied windmills on display, each with a descriptive information sign that detailed the windmill’s design features and history of use on the Canadian prairies.

It was very interesting! To the left is the Beatty Pumper, which became the most widely used windmill on prairie farms, and there was even a European-style windmill which could be found at places like Fort Douglas, Manitoba, and Fort Edmonton, Alberta, in the early 1800s.

After touring the windmills I decided to skip the museum and head back out on the road, but luckily I popped in to use their washroom and this is what greeted me when I entered!

An old-fashioned soda-fountain shop selling ice cream and floats, coffee and pie! And, behind the counter were two bright-eyed, fresh-faced teenagers with big welcoming smiles. I wish that I had a photo of them! They looked very happy to have someone walk into their museum, and I couldn’t bear to disappoint them by not staying. It was an excellent museum! Like many prairie town museums, the focus was on early settlement, farming, ranching, and pioneer life. There was a replica Main Street with a boardwalk, and views into spaces such as a barber shop, post office, general store, and school room.

There were also many themed rooms, including a replica mid-1900’s kitchen where the table was set with “Rosalie”-patterned kitchenware. Edged in 22 karat gold, these dishes would have been collected as premiums in bags of Quaker Oats!

After my tour of the museum I decided to splurge on a piece of homemade pie with ice cream, and I greatly enjoyed talking to the teenage girls about their school life (favourite subjects, sports played, future plans etc.), and about their summer work at the museum. When I asked about the origin of the museum’s focus on windmills, one of the girls replied that “every prairie town museum has an old-fashioned sewing machine”, so the museum director decided to have their museum be unique by being the only windmill museum in Canada. It was a joy to talk with them – such a bright spark of life and light in the town – and the pie and ice cream was delicious!

Fortified by my stop, I continued west, now on Alberta Highway 61, with a quick stop in Foremost,

and later I stopped to photograph the tail end of a very long, long, long line of black rail cars that had stretched, for multiple kilometres, roughly parallel to the highway and across a wide expanse of freshly shorn wheat.

As I continued west, dark clouds steadily built up overhead, and I decided to stop early and camp at the Lower St. Mary’s Reservoir campground where I have stayed before. I was feeling tired and headachy, and a bit woozy from the road. Luckily, the campground was not very full, considering that it was Thursday night before the Labour Day weekend, and I was happy to get a large waterfront site with no near neighbours.

It was blessedly peaceful and quiet, and after dinner I took a walk to view the spillway and then decided to walk downriver a ways until a gentle rain started to fall.

It rained through the night, and I woke often, but the rain on my roof is a comforting sound, even in a downpour. My Toyota looked a bit forlorn in the morning, though, covered in leaves and twigs from my campsite’s tall cottonwoods, and a few of those cottonwood leaves were bright yellow, signalling the coming of autumn. As I was leaving, I stopped half way up the gravel road that takes campers from the lower reservoir back up to the prairie level, for this view back down over the area.

It was definitely time to head home, and from here that thought amplified as the Rocky Mountains began to come into view as I travelled west on Alberta Highway 505.

The day brightened as I drew closer to the mountains, and I soaked in my last views of the magnificent Alberta prairie.

I turned onto Highway 6 North, with a brief stop in Pincher Creek, and then onto Highway 3 West, first passing the site of the enormous and devastating Frank Slide,

and then stopping to photograph the gorgeous Mt. Tecumseh and Crowsnest Mountain.

I crossed into B.C. at the Crowsnest Pass and was quite frankly astounded anew by my province’s incredible mountain scenery. I have driven the wonderful Highway 3 across southern B.C. several times before, but the mountains seemed to have grown in my absence! I greatly enjoyed the drive along forested slopes and river valleys, passed quickly through the towns of Sparwood, Fernie, Elko and Cranbrook, and then decided to camp at the small and well-remembered Yahk Provincial Park where I have stayed before. Inexpensive and convenient, with large and reasonably private sites, this campground is located beside a lovely section of the Moyie River where I sat and watched bats swoop and swerve over the river as dusk fell.

I woke early again, ready for my second-to-last day of driving. It was a beautiful day, with a bright blue sky, and I stopped briefly in Creston for this last photo of a grain elevator. Built in the mid 1930’s, it stored wheat, oats, and barely that were grown in the fertile and extensive agricultural lands of the Creston Valley.

As I continued westward I enjoyed the rising and falling curves of the highway as I took in more views of forested mountain slopes, sparkling river valleys, and rocky pinnacles. Unfortunately, photos do not do justice to the immensity of the mountains, but they do capture the beauty of this small alpine lake at Kootenay Pass, looking towards the west,

and then from the other side of the lake looking east.

I made a stop in Greenwood, one of my favourite B.C. small towns, to visit “my house”** (see link at the end of this post),

and later I made my first ever stop in the town of Midway, where I checked out their riverside campground for future reference. It was a nice place to stop, eat some lunch, and rest a bit while watching the lazy flow of the Kettle River, and there is a riverside trail starting from here that I might walk someday…

Here, I made the obligatory stop at the top of Anarchist Mountain for the view down into Okanagan Valley,

with a zoomed-in view of the town of Osoyoos, and yet more mountains ahead!

I followed the S-curves down to Osoyoos and considered stopping for a swim, but home was now like a magnet, pulling ever-stronger the closer I got to the coast so I zipped straight through town, rose steeply up out of the valley, and later stopped for this view as the road swooped down again.

I stopped again on the approach to Cawston and Keremeos. Look at those mountains! It was like I was seeing them for the first time. Below is the Similkameen River and nestled ahead in the narrow V of the river’s valley is the town of Keremeos with its vineyards, orchards, and roadside fruit stands.

It was still early in the day, and I had thought that I might drive all the way to Vancouver, arriving near dark, but I was feeling tired. I then considered driving as far as Manning Park, but I knew from previous experience that it might be impossible to find a campsite there on the Labour Day weekend so I checked out the Prikard Creek Recreation Site campground, located just west of Keremeos, and luckily there was a site for me, and an excellent one at that! The campground was right beside the beautiful Similkameen River, and the air was hot and dry and smelled of Ponderosa Pine.

I had a wonderful and relaxing late-afternoon swim, entering upstream, floating downstream with the current, and then walking back upriver to do it over and over again. I felt happy here, and I took a rare selfie as it was my very last night on the road. I also took a last photo of the Similkameen River as the sun lowered in the west. It was to be my last photo of my long journey across Canada and back.

The Very Last Leg of the Last Leg!

In my memory, my campout at Prikard Creek was the end of my epic roadtrip, but of course I still had the very last leg to complete, a further 320 km to reach home! I left shortly after dawn, and I had the beautiful highway through more scenic B.C. wilderness mostly to myself all the way to where Highway 3 joins Highway 1 just east of Hope. From there, the traffic began to build considerably, and soon there was a thick stream of holiday-weekend traffic, still travelling at speed, as we crossed over the Patullo Bridge and continued westward towards the city. (“It would be a shame to have an accident now!” I thought!) Finally, I exited the stress of Highway 1 and crossed Boundary Road into Vancouver. Phew! Then, after a last half hour of driving, my trusty Toyota and I were finally back home, safe and sound, having travelled 17,787 kilometres, over two and a half months, together across Canada and back. Phew indeed!

So, would I do it again? When I first returned I would have answered, “No way, once was enough!”, but now, months later, I’m not so sure!

Thank you for joining me on the journey, and I hope to see you on the next! 🙂

P.S. I have just realized that the very first and the very last photos of my trip were both of the Similikameen River, taken two and a half months apart. Here, at Bromley Rock Provincial Park in June, the river had been running fast and high with spring runoff, and it was so beautiful – deep, clear, green, and sparkling!

** This following blog post, from a previous drive across Highway 3, has some really great photos of Greenwood (including “my house”), as well as a bit of history of this former mining town. There are also photos and details of other great stops along the exceptionally wonderful B.C. Highway 3. https://christineswalkabout.com/2022/01/05/western-road-trip-a-magnificent-start-heading-east-on-highway-3/,

And, here is a link to the post which follows the one above, with great photos of sights along Highway 3 east of Yahk, (mountains!), and then south on Alberta Highway 6 to the Waterton Lakes National Park area and beyond. https://christineswalkabout.com/2022/01/07/western-road-trip-into-southwestern-alberta-mountains-and-prairie-together-oh-my/