The temperature was only just below zero last night. There were snow clouds hanging around, but we had hoar frost rather than snow. I went for a walk after breakfast and captured a few beautiful sights, then headed down to the valley floor along Wills Road, the main road through a estate of individually designed houses, a mixture of regular homes and holiday chalets, all set in pine forest.
The road took me to an open area of wetland, frozen over, and beyond that, the meandering course of the Columbia River, flowing quietly across the plain. There were several riverside holiday homes along the east bank. I was delighted to see that one of them was flying the Welsh Dragon from the garden flagpole - a little part of B.C. forever Cymru in the heart of one householder. There's an open area of the river bank which is used as a landing stage for the craft used in river rafting. The river runs slowly here, twisting and turning across the plain, so it's not exactly white water adventure stuff. A handful of mallard ducks were swimming along with the currrent. They were the only other evidence of occupation. The river is rather free of holidaymakers at this time of year.
I walked back home in time for lunch, then we all went up Fairmont skil hill for the afternoon. There was lots of fresh snow, and because it wasn't so cold (in fact it snowed lightly most of the afternoon), a fine powdery surface layer was quickly replaced by lots of little snowdrifts, heavy and challenging to ski through. It was a testing afternoon of hard exercise. I had more falls in two hours than in the rest of three weeks on piste, so I was exhausted and a little battered by the time we arrived home.
We were invited out to the Hoodoos Grill for supper with firends of John and Rachel. I could have gone straight to bed, so I wasn't exactly sparkling company, although a delicious Bison Lassagne revived me in the course of the evening - another first for this amazing trip of ours.
The road took me to an open area of wetland, frozen over, and beyond that, the meandering course of the Columbia River, flowing quietly across the plain. There were several riverside holiday homes along the east bank. I was delighted to see that one of them was flying the Welsh Dragon from the garden flagpole - a little part of B.C. forever Cymru in the heart of one householder. There's an open area of the river bank which is used as a landing stage for the craft used in river rafting. The river runs slowly here, twisting and turning across the plain, so it's not exactly white water adventure stuff. A handful of mallard ducks were swimming along with the currrent. They were the only other evidence of occupation. The river is rather free of holidaymakers at this time of year.
I walked back home in time for lunch, then we all went up Fairmont skil hill for the afternoon. There was lots of fresh snow, and because it wasn't so cold (in fact it snowed lightly most of the afternoon), a fine powdery surface layer was quickly replaced by lots of little snowdrifts, heavy and challenging to ski through. It was a testing afternoon of hard exercise. I had more falls in two hours than in the rest of three weeks on piste, so I was exhausted and a little battered by the time we arrived home.
We were invited out to the Hoodoos Grill for supper with firends of John and Rachel. I could have gone straight to bed, so I wasn't exactly sparkling company, although a delicious Bison Lassagne revived me in the course of the evening - another first for this amazing trip of ours.
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