Saturday, May 21st was the last day of our western trek but far from the end of our journey. For thirty days we'd been good little vagabonds, living out of our car and in hotels and cottages, wandering from town to town, over mountains, along rivers, by lakes, traipsing through vineyards, and dipping our toes into the Pacific Ocean.  We'd been affected by a landslide, avalanche, snowstorms and brilliant, warm sunshine days.  I'd become adept at making yummy lunches in the car, spotting the few and far-between 'Starbucks' signs (their morning oatmeal is delish!), getting Steve to stop arguing with the GPS woman, and viewing the world through bug-covered windshields.  And one important thing I learned:  never head out on a road trip without at least one chip clip; there were many times when I missed that handy plastic device, but that's almost enough fodder for another blog!  I realize this list of mine does not signify a single, huge (or even tiny) accomplishment but Steve and I really had no problems at all being together 24/7 in the confines of a motor vehicle and without the comforts of home that one might think would be missed. 

Life on the road, or anywhere away from family and friends, is so much easier these days, as so many other things are.  Gone are the days when letters and even phone calls were the only means of communication.  When I was younger we'd line up on Christmas Day to talk on the phone to our relatives overseas, quickly spewing our hellos during the ten seconds each person was allotted to talk, with telephone costs being astronomical.  Nowadays of course we have instant connections through email, instant messaging, texting and those masters of communications, Facebook and Twitter.  We had an iphone with us on the trip, which provided almost constant email connections to everyone, except in the mountainous regions where coverage was non-existent.  And almost all of the places where we laid our hats each evening had wifi connections, enabling us to pull out our laptops and blog. 

This trip of ours was made possible by the fact that Steve was laid off from his job in March and had the time to take extended weeks away.  While he has been searching for a new position through social media, such as LinkedIn, he's also following the more traditional route of recruiters and peer contacts.  There have been a few leads and it seems that the world of hospitality is beginning to fall back on its feet again, but at press time, there are no firm job offers.  We'd love to continue wandering and would like to get out to the east coast, but Steve does have some consulting work to complete, so we'll see how the next few months go.  Perhaps we will be back on the road again.

I gathered a lot of knowledge on our trip, mostly geologically speaking.  I think if every kid was able to travel through a country, they'd gain a lot more knowledge than sitting at a desk in school.  So many times I related places I saw to the tidbits of information I received in school, years (and years) ago.  If as a kid I'd seen a desert or a mountain range, or a geyser spewing up from the earth I would have 'got it', understood it, marveled at it and wanted to know more.  While I realize not every parent or child has the luxury of travel, kids do need to be out of doors more, their hands in the earth, their faces to the sun and their minds open to the wonders of the world.  There is so much to see, everyday!

Our travels on the last day, from South Dakota, through Minnesota and back to our home in Wisconsin, took us about ten hours.  Mountains flattened, hills appeared and farms galore became the norm.  We finally saw that tourist spot in our state, Wisconsin Dells, and chuckled at the tacky, but fun-looking world of water slides, family hotels and restaurants, the famous Wisconsin Ducks, a 'boat' for roads and water, amusement parks and casinos and did feel a pang of guilt for not taking our guests, especially the many kids, to the Dells for some old-fashioned fun.  It is a two and a half-hour drive from our place though...way too far!  ;)

Now we are home and in the process of unpacking and then packing up again, this time the whole house; we are scheduled to move at the end of June.  Not sure where we are going yet so gotta hang onto that vagabond spirit for a bit longer! 

 

The hotel where we'd stayed the night of the snowstorm was one of only a few of our accommodations on this trip that wasn't the best, not quite the kind where you feel you can't take your shoes off, but close.  But I'd had two bottles of beer and played a few games of Angry Birds and those were enough to send me off to dreamland.

The next day dawned rainy and it was just one more sleep until we were back in our own beds.  We still had a lot of driving to do but wanted to take in a few more wineries and as many of the little towns as we could.  Our first stop was Hill City, South Dakota and the sun peeked out.

A western town, it was bigger than some, (one we drove through actually posted, and boasted, a population of 10!), with around a thousand residents and in close proximity to some major tourist attractions.  We took a stroll down the main drag, which looked like a western movie set.  Nestled in the Black Hills of South Dakota, the Beatles' song, Rocky Raccoon, rolled through my head like a CD on a loop.  "Now somewhere in the black mountain hills of Dakota there lives a young boy named, Rocky Raccoon...."  We didn't run into anyone who remembered Rocky but we did have a chat with a few locals.  And then we rolled on. 

In the back of our minds we'd been wondering whether to pop into Mt. Rushmore to see the presidents' faces carved in the mountainside but when we came upon the turn it was one way to Mt Rushmore, another to Crazy Horse.  We chose the latter.

When we stopped to pay at the gate, a Native American man greeted us, inquiring as to our dog's name.  Steve smiled and told him, "Hopi".  The man laughed and said to Hopi, "I sure hope you aren't embarrassed by your name!"  (Hopi is named after the Indian tribe in Arizona).

I have been interested in the Native American culture for as long as I can remember; I love their connection with nature and their fervent respect for the land.  Crazy Horse was a Lakota Indian who, in the late 1800s stood up against land occupation by the government, though eventually he surrendered. While giving himself up, he was fatally wounded by a military guard.   A memorial, a mountain monument in the likeness of Crazy Horse, was begun in 1948 as the collaboration between a white man and a Lakota Chief.  When completed it will be the world's largest sculpture.  To date the face of Crazy Horse is complete and work has begun on carving the rest of him sitting on his horse.  A private foundation is funding the project, accepting no government aid.   It is far from completion and has been the subject of controversy from many groups, including some Native Americans who believe the carving is desecrating sacred lands. 

The history of the memorial was very interesting as were the native crafts displayed and for sale and also I enjoyed learning a bit more about the Lakota way of life.  We headed on.

Our destination was Sioux Falls, SD and we'd reserved a Homewood Suites room for our last night on the road.  We'd research a couple of SD wineries and dropped in at Prairie Berry Winery, a family run business who seemed to have a lot of fun with the wines they made, both fruit ones and grape wines.

Our hotel suite proved to be a great one and we were even able to order wonderful steaks and veggies for delivery to our room, which we washed down with a bottle of Montana wine! 

Saturday, the 22nd will be our last day on the road.  The whole trip has gone by so very fast!

The alarm went off at 7:30am, it was raining and the bed at our hotel, The Cody, was coooozy.  I hated to get up.  As I often do in the morning I quickly tallied up the number of hours I had slept and this Thursday morning it was only about six and a half, not near enough.  But as the dutiful buddy traveller I am, I rolled out, stumbled to the shower and woke up.  Our destination was to be somewhere near Hill City, South Dakota, the first leg of our trip back to Wisconsin.   We hadn’t booked any accommodation as we thought we’d just see how far we could get before fatigue set in.

This 30-day odyssey of ours has been planned on a day-to-day basis; we usually decide exactly where we want to be, the night before we set off.  While we do have a paper map with us, purchased about a week and a half into the journey, we mostly rely on Yahoo or Google maps online.  I have been the lead researcher, sussing out wineries online, pet friendly accommodations and points of interest.  Then we pump some directional info into the GPS and head off.  We like the vagabond feeling of not being tied to time or place.  So yesterday we had no idea what we might encounter.

About an hour into the six and a half hours GPS lady quoted, Hopi began to get very restless in the back seat.  During the first few weeks of our travels we had him tethered in the back and he was perfectly content to curl up in his bed and sleep most of the day, but lately he was happier without his restraint, wandering from one side of the back seat to the other, but mostly sleeping.  Without warning he started to pant loudly and his furry body also started shaking.  He climbed into my lap, the first time he’d done this; I hadn’t realized he was even capable of it.  He panted and shook and I couldn’t calm him down at all.  We started our ascent on Bighorn Scenic Hwy on Rte. 14 when it started to rain heavily.  Mist and fog so dense that we felt we were driving in soup, surrounded us and the rain turned to sleet, throwing up piles of the messy stuff onto the windshield.  It was difficult to see but we assumed this was temporary and drove on.  There is only one road up a mountain and over the pass and we were hoping the sky would soon clear. This was not to be.  Temperatures quickly plummeted as sleet turned to snow.  As we climber higher and higher up the mountain the snow fell heavier and heavier.  Before long we were in the midst of a full-blown, white-out snowstorm.

It’s been fairly normal while traversing the many mountains we’ve encountered, that cell phone service is unavailable and this was certainly the case in Bighorn National Forest.  And now we couldn’t see the road for snow; it was impossible to determine lanes.  With snow all around, on the trees and mountainside, snow blindness set in too. 

For a long time we were the only vehicle on the road and then a snowplow emerged in the oncoming lane creating some guidance, albeit in the wrong lane.  Steve veered over to the left side of the road and drove in the tracks the snowplow had made.  A couple of trucks and SUVs coming from the other direction forced us back onto snowy side and even though everyone was driving very slowly we thought we’d better stay on the right side of the road, even if it meant driving through deep snow.

A sign showed that we were at over 9,300 feet elevation and as Steve drove a maximum of 15 mph, white-knuckling the steering wheel, I began to mentally prepare for getting stranded in the snow, on a mountain in Wyoming with little to no other traffic nearby.  We had food and water in the SUV, (a car would never had made it in this snow), and we had plenty of clothing with us for warmth so we’d survive okay.  It was the hairpin turns on the roadway and the steep drop over the edge if the car skidded that worried me the most.  Several times the ABS juddered to avoid skidding but I had total trust in my driver.  Although he didn’t learn to drive in snowstorms as many of us did, he did know how to negotiate mountain roads; he’d lived in Switzerland for a year.

Seeing a sign that said there’d be an 8% gradient downhill for the next 11 miles did little to calm our nerves.  Both of us leaned into the front window, our bodies bent, our eyes strained trying to make sure we stayed on the road.

The treacherous drive lasted three hours and during that time Hopi never let up with his pitiful panting and constant trembling.  I think he must have sensed that danger was ahead when he began this behavior before we hit the storm.

By the time we got down the mountain the snow had begun to turn to sleet and then rain.  We breathed a long sigh.  I rubbed Steve’s aching neck and shoulders but before we knew it we were driving through snow again.  We were on straight roads in the valley though, and while it wasn’t an easy drive, it was certainly a whole lot easier than being on the edge of a mountain.

We didn’t make it as far down the highway as planned and pulled up at a worn Holiday Inn in Spearfish, South Dakota and checked in for the night.  Steve headed out for food and came back with four bottles of beer and a bag of Culver’s burgers.  We were way too tired to blog last night.  But, we were safe.  

I wasn't overly excited about going into Yellowstone Park.  While I love the outdoors and the wildness of nature, I feared the park might be too commercialized, a haven for souvenirs of plastic bears, printed t-shirts and geyser mugs.  I was wrong. 

We entered through the north gate and first came upon Mammoth Hot Springs.  Hopi wasn't supposed to go anywhere near the geysers so Steve investigated while I watched from the car.  I rolled the window down a bit but the smell of sulphur was very strong.  Sometimes it's good to see the world through car windows!  A few minutes later we passed our first bison, lolling on the grass, their huge heads hanging as if too heavy to keep level with their shoulders.  We snapped a few pics and continued along the road.  We were hoping to see a bear and a moose today but apparently those animals don't often peek out from their spots in the woods. 

Stopping at a river for lunch, we rolled the windows down and breathed in the freshness of a perfectly gorgeous sunny day.  While it was cool, it was not what the weather folks had predicted.  They reported a woeful day of torrential rain and wind.  I wasn't the only one who was wrong about things; they really missed the mark.  While we were chomping on salami and cheese sandwiches, what I thought was a female moose came sauntering down the river, stopping to lunch on shoots and berries.  I snapped some pics but later in the evening, when I googled images of forest animals, I realized my 'moose' was really an elk!  And we didn't see a moose all day.  But we did see the other creature on our list!

Rounding a turn we came upon about a dozen cars stopped along the side of the road.  We pulled off onto a grassy rut and there she was:  a Grizzly!  We hopped out with camera and a pair of binoculars and joined the other folks who had the same equipment.  A ranger was there making sure that our sow, who was about 200 feet away and busy digging in the mud for food, didn't get any closer.  One man joked that since our car was the closest, if Mama Bear charged, they'd all clamber into our vehicle!  It was an amazing experience and Steve snapped several pics with his long lens. 

After all the excitement we were back on the road.  Some of the scenery was spectacular and some was kinda boring.  We did see Old Faithful blow her steam into the air and since she only does this every 93 minutes, we were lucky that we arrived just a few minutes before she blew.  Although it was interesting there were many other phenomena that I found more amazing and beautiful.

We stopped at a place called West Thumb on Yellowstone Lake and were absolutely blown away by the many geysers bubbling up from the earth and random hot springs everywhere, even in the lake!  We were going to give Hopi a little walk as we had to leave him in the car as dogs aren't permitted on the boardwalk down to the lake.  I started to walk to a grassy patch when a car pulled up beside me and a man yelled out what sounded like, 'Ky-O!'  He said it several times frantically and then pointed to Hopi saying, 'chien, ky-o!'  He motioned behind me and then I realized what he was trying to say.  He was warning me that there was a coyote nearby and Hopi might make a tasty treat!  Eek!  I quickly shoved Hopi safely back in the car. 

We wandered down to Yellowstone Lake, passing tiny mudholes that bubbled and spat and even saw bear tracks in the mud.  One hot spring was particularly amazing.  It was called Black Pool and looked like something Walt Disney had made, but of course it was real.  The depth and the colour drew me in, (well not literally or I'd have disappeared in the bowels of the earth), and the steam was mesmerizing.  That combined with a frozen lake just a few feet away made it all totally incongruous.  The earth is one fascinating place!

We wanted to leave through the east exit but it was closed due to an earlier avalanche; there was a lot of snow in the park!  We ended up having to go 100 miles out of our way, through the northeast exit to our destination for the night, Cody, Wyoming.  Cody is named for that cowboy Buffalo Bill Cody who famously killed an awful lot of bison but also started Buffalo Bill's Wild West Shows, circus-like productions that toured the country.

We arrived really late at our hotel but luckily there was a pizza joint open for take-out and we still had a couple of bottles of beer in our cooler. 

Morning dawned way up in the hills and sadly we had to say goodbye to our little house under the big sky. We packed up our loot, lighter now that all the homemade cookies are gone and headed on down the road. For the first twenty miles or so the pine trees began to fade and the mountains flattened out. I wasn't ready to say goodbye! As tears began to well those mountains suddenly reappeared in all their glory! Pine trees multiplied and the highest peaks once again appeared meringue-covered. I so love the mountains!

We were on our way to Gardiner, Montana, just outside of Yellowstone Park to lay low for the night. The highways were quiet as we motored alongside bubbling rivers, their banks close to overflowing, their speed amazingly swift. Temperatures rose and dipped, up to the 60s and then down to the high 30s as we drove over the mountains.

Montana is certainly log-house land. We oo-ed and awe-d at some spectacular homes on sprawling land. Since as long as I can remember, I've always dreamed of living in a log house and these ones are in picture perfect settings. Each one we saw sat in the midst of probably hundreds of acres of land and while a river flowed in front of them, majestic mountains loomed all around them. Many of the homesteads were ranches and we marvelled at their distinctive wooden entryway posts and beams, some plain and some ornate.

The land spread out farther and farther as we drove east. In some areas swampland took the place of rivers and we'd read that bears often inhabit these areas for their delectable shoots and berries. We drove past signs that warned to watch for wildlife and we were hungry to catch a glimpse of something on our trip, hopefully a bear or a moose but all we've seen are a few mountain goats in Colorado and several deer along the way. I kept my eyes peeled for something furry but alas, the furriest creature we've come into contact with is the one travelling with us!

We stopped at several spots along the way, walking along river trails where fly fishing is famous and where the air is as fresh and clear as the snow-melt running down the sides of the mountains. The scenery reminded me of Christmas cards that feature pine trees sitting in pools of snow by icy-crisp streams. I think the artists must have been to Montana!

Rolled into Gardiner late in the afternoon and checked into our Best Western Plus room for the night. We've had some good luck with this chain and in the town the size of tiny Gardiner, we were lucky to find one. Best Western now has three grades of hotels and the rooms in the Plus category are large, have upgraded amenities, refrigerators with freezers, microwaves, and there are usually laundry facilities on site, everything you need to stay a happy camper.

There's a couple of saloon-style restaurants in town and we went to the one that looked the busiest. A log building itself we sat down and ordered a couple of beers...you get thirsty out here in the old west! Our meals were homey and delicious and we shared a peach cobbler for dessert, which was so good we almost ordered another one!

The weather forecast on the local channel is showing torrential downpours for tonight and all of tomorrow so we'll see how Yellowstone looks in the rain. I hope it doesn't dampen Old Faithful! We've made a reservation in Cody, Wyoming for tomorrow night but as of today the road to Cody is closed due to snowy conditions and there has been an avalanche reported just east of Yellowstone. So far we've experienced road closures from a landslide in California and from snow so we'll see what Mother Nature has in store tomorrow!

To my right, on the leather couch in front of the fireplace that hums quietly with its gas flames, lay the boys.  Steve and Hopi are both sound asleep at the end of a day in the mountains of Montana that was pretty much a day of solitude and relaxation.

It was chilly when we awoke after raining heavily through the night.  The creek was rushing, the air crisp and a cup of tea, a comfy chair, some music and a game of bananagrams were really all we were up to this morning.  I would have happily stayed in my sweats all day but Steve did want to go out for lunch.

About five miles down the road there’s a very secluded five-star resort that I’d found online while researching this state.  Triple Creek Ranch is a log hideaway that offers luxury cabins and suites and since Steve is also very much on the lookout for the next job opportunity, he wanted to check the place out. 

Triple Creek reminds us of our Wisconsin getaway at Canoe Bay for our tenth anniversary last July.  While larger than Canoe Bay, the atmosphere and ambiance at Triple Creek Ranch was similar.  Lunch is a set menu for $28.  While it included a soft drink and dessert, it seemed a bit pricey for the turkey sandwich I ordered.  Steve had squab and chili, a strange combination but he loved it; he’s a whole lot more adventurous than I could ever dream to be when it comes to food!   We were going to head to the small town of Darby after lunch but it was cold out and our lovely cabin beckoned.  I was absolutely fine with just continuing with my curl-up, cozy day.

When we arrived back there were four huge deer in the garden and they weren’t at all afraid of us.  Hopi was on the inside barking and we brought him out to meet them.  Unfortunately, they were afraid of him, which is a bit of a joke, as Hopi has developed a new fear everyday of this trip.  There is a wooden bear on the porch that petrifies him.  He has to be carried into the house because try as he might, he can’t figure out how to get in the door without passing it by.

I’ve booked us into a hotel in Wyoming for tomorrow night and then one in South Dakota on Wednesday night.  It’s amazing that our time on the road has almost come to an end; we plan on arriving back home on Saturday.  It will be hard to leave our little cabin in the Big Sky but the memories will remain with us and memory is often as good as the real thing! 

On Friday the 13th we learned that our house back home in Wisconsin had sold and the new owners want to move in on June 15th. We return from our wanderings on May 22nd so there will be some frantic stuffing of boxes as soon as we get back.  And on June 18th, my oldest daughter gets married in Toronto, but for now we continue our journey.

Leaving Washington behind the land changed yet again. Hills lost their trees, faded back to velvet mounds and at some points, disappeared completely. We rolled into Idaho on the Lewis and Clark trail. A little concerned that grocery stores might be hard to find near the mountain retreat we were headed to in Montana, we stocked up in Clarkston, Idaho on the border of Lewiston, Montana. A bridge spanned the Clearwater River on highway 12 and we followed the road for many hours. It wended its way right alongside the river and against the mountains, twisting and turning and providing the most spectacular scenery. The river ran from the mountaintops, rushing over rocks and carrying a few rafters, who we passed by, on a wild ride. It was sunny and warm, getting as hot as 88 degrees at one point. Instead of a river at the lowest point of the land, this one climbed with us up to Lolo's Pass.

With services extremely sparce we were glad we'd filled up the gas tank but did need a rest stop along the way. We'd all but given up hope when that welcoming blue sign appeared, 'Rest Area in 1 mile'. I wasn't expecting much but was hoping we'd at least find flush toilets.  Just around the bend the tops of two log structures appeared and so did mounds of snow! The rest stop was positioned exactly on the border of Idaho and Montana and was lovely in its own right. It was 62 degrees at the elevation but there was still about a foot of snow on the roofs. And boy the air was fresh!

After another few hours on the road we found our house in the hills. You never know what you might get when you book online but the photos definitely do not do it justice...the place is fantastic! One thing I've learned from booking on the internet is that if a rental does not show photos of the bedrooms, you should give it a pass. We've made that mistake just once on this trip but for the most part we've been happy with our selections but this one is by far the best. I wonder if they'd mind if we took up permanent residence? We will be homeless in another month!

Entering on a long wooded lane, there are a few houses plopped in the midst of massive pine trees in this area, which is named Bitterrroot National Forest. Boulder Creek runs through it and the constant manic rush of the water is a surprisingly soothing sound. From the house there are about forty stairs that lead down to the creek and from the comments in the guest book there is good fishin' down there. When the windows are open you can hear the creek loudly from every room. It's heaven.

We got up today to a sunshine-y big sky....it is Montana! After breakfast we headed off to hike a trail up higher in the mountains, called Baker Lake. We pulled our Rav 4 onto a dirt road and passed a horse ranch. Those guys have a good life, chomping hay with snow-peaked mountains surrounding them.

A sign said the lake was 9 miles up. The road was meant for one car, or SUV at least, as I don't think a car would be the best mode of transportation on this narrow mountain road! It took me about a mile before I could relax into the steep drops just outside my door. Driving at about 10 mph it would take us about an hour to get to the top. We'd probably gone about 5 miles when we were stopped in our tracks. Snow. Lots of it! There was no possible way we could traverse the deep stuff. But...how do you turn a car around without falling off the side of the mountain.  It was tricky but of course we did it or I wouldn't be typing right now. And we did find a few places to wander a few feet off the road to snap some fabulous photos. Scenery like this can rarely be captured through a lens though.

When we got back we sat out in the sun, on the patio, atop the creek and relaxed...it's something that's very easy to do up here!

We were ready for the road again:  destination Washington.  But there was one more winery we wanted to visit, one that is my facebook buddy:  See Ya Later Ranch.  Their logo is a dog with a halo and wings, angelic, just like our dog, Hopi.  We had to stop. 

See Ya Later Ranch is just south of Okanagan Falls, down a long dusty road and then up a hill that brings you to gorgeous vineyards and yet another spectacular view of the mountains and valley.  The tasting room is huge and well-windowed giving the visitor almost 360 degree views.  We took Hopi in with us (gotta love dog-friendly wineries), and while Steve tasted a few wines it felt too early for me to imbibe.  The very kind gentleman behind the counter suggested a sparkling wine for my breakfast drink and it was delicious.  A bubbling combination of chardonnay and Riesling got me bubbly as well.  I may have to kick-start my morning OJ with this in the future!  There is a gorgeous patio at See Ya Later equipped with butane heaters.  We were told that they serve lunch outside from June until October and if the weather is cool patrons are given blankets to wrap around them.  How very Canadian! 

After a quick stop at Inniskillin where Steve tasted an amazing ice wine, we headed south towards Osoyoos, BC and the border into the States, as the terrain changed from lush pine tree-covered hills to more of a sandy and sage-like land; we were in the desert!   We stopped at the duty free and I purchased a cozy lime-green hoodie with a subtle stamp of “Canada” on it.  I am a sucker for anything that says Canada and have a collection of t-shirts with any and every Canadian saying on them.  Eh?  I had packed for more of a summertime climate and was missing my cozy clothes and we were heading towards the mountains of Montana and possibly more snow!

Our car was the only traffic at the border and the two patrol guys were chatting to each other when we pulled up.  Stern-looking, the one guy asked us a lot of questions and opened the back door of our car where Hopi was sitting.  Hopi normally loves all humans and begs to be petted, but something made him shy away from this guy.  It still amazes me that going into the USA we are met with much more officiousness than we are going into Canada, be it driving or flying.  The Canadian stereotype of friendliness seems to hold true 99% of the time with border guards, while the grim ones are always on the other side.   They inspire fear and guilt in me even when I’m doing absolutely nothing wrong.  Eek.

We cruised into Washington, drove the wrong way for a couple of hours, something that is all too common for us, and then found Moses Lake and a Comfort Inn Suites, which was as it name implied, was comfortable.   We ordered a pizza and watched American Idol and called it a night.  The next day we drove to Walla Walla, an uninteresting drive and visited a few wineries, most notably Feliciana with its beautiful grounds, waterfalls, and wonderful wines made from Spanish and Argentinian grapes. 

Hunger was gnawing, our food supplies running low and since we were only staying at a Holiday Inn and had no means to cook we went foraging in the town center of Walla Walla.  We hit the jackpot.  There is a little strip of small stores and several wine tasting shops, many with outdoor patios.  It was quite warm and we were in the middle of after-Friday drinks and evening entertainment.  Hopi was able to sit at a table on the patio of Sapolil Cellars and he curled up in a chair and stayed there for the next two hours.  We ordered a bottle of their house red, a cheese and antipasti plate to share, a bowl of soba noodles with veggies and chicken and to end the meal, a huge carrot cupcake to share.  There was a pianist tickling the ivories to some old standards, we watched a ‘wine crawl’ in progress as dozens of middle-aged winos traipsed from one tasting room to the next, wine glasses in hand and smiles on their faces, and enjoyed an early summer evening out of doors. 

When we got back to our room at the Holiday Inn we dragged out the computers, searched for places to stay in Montana, booked a house in the mountains and wrapped up another day.

On our last day in the valley we decided to head up north a little way to the city of Kelowna, which sits at the top of Okanagan Lake. The drive was strangely reminiscent of parts of Switzerland and Italy and it almost seemed incredulous that this was all part of Canada....Oh Canada! I do love you ya know!

We stopped at several wineries, one that shared its name with my husband's. Beaumont Winery is actually named after a tiny town just outside of Edmonton; it bears no hidden connection to my man's British roots at all, although he did find it necessary to purchase one of their baseball hats with the winery inscription on it. And then we visited a winery whose owners are from Switzerland; the second place in two days to have Swiss owners. Perhaps the area makes them feel at home with its mountains, lakes and valleys.

St Hubertus Winery is at the top of a hill and just across the road from a beach. You can either take a gravel path to the beach or there is a very narrow trail of flattened grass that goes straight down and is a whole lot steeper. Joel, Saxon and I decided on the latter and since Hopi was with us, so did he. Hopi is a good mountain dog; he's proved himself adept on several trips and once passed much bigger dogs on a trek up the Blue Mountains in Virginia.

When we got down to the shore it was a beach of stones and rocks, mostly the flat kind that are great for skimming across the water. I picked up one, threw it, but it merely plopped.  Joel and Saxon kept the momentum going though, skipping stones and spinning rocks. Hopi's tail dropped between his legs. Hopi is not a lover of loud sounds. He hates to hear gun shots on television, fireworks freak him out and thunder sends him running for cover.  We were soon to learn that he's not at all a fan of rocks thrown in a lake.  I lost sight of him briefly but then saw him: he was three quarters of the way back up the hill, his tail unseen between his legs. He wanted out of there, no matter how difficult the climb.  That night he was one tuckered out pooch!

As night drew nigh, we headed back through Penticton and stopped for dinner at Lake City Casino, our table overlooking the water.  While we were still on appetizers the wind picked up and the lake began churning, splashing onto the deck.  The air grew much colder.  We headed inside and figured we might as well play a few slot machines to round out the day.  In half an hour we'd all lost our wagers but we scrounged up a few bucks for a pitstop at Tim Horton's for donuts before we headed back to our cottage.  The rain began in earnest as we closed the door behind us and we listened to it pour down all night long. 

When morning dawned we said goodbye to Joel and Saxon but knowing we'll be seeing them again in less than five weeks made the parting so much easier.  I stood on tiptoes to give that boy of mine a hug and kiss and in a cloud of dust, they headed west while we headed east.

On day two in the Okanagan Valley we all piled into Joel’s big black rental truck and hit the wine trail to the Naramata Bench.  The sky was blue, the sun bright and our palates ready. 

Naramata Bench is an agricultural jewel with rolling hillsides and spectacular cliffs that serve up diverse soils and unique geography in a microclimate that grape vines absolutely love.  On the southeast banks of the sparkling Okanagan Lake, in a distance of less than 15 kilometers, (or 9 miles) 25 wineries have sprung up in the last twenty years.  There is only one main road through the Bench so you just can’t miss them. 

There is a story to every winery and vineyard and although historically they share some similarities, each tale is as distinct as each bottle of wine.  The most common grapes that are grown in the Okanangan Valley include chardonnay, merlot, cabernet sauvignon, pinot gris and pinot noir.  Riesling and Gewurztraminer also do well there but are probably at their best further north; they like temperatures that are a bit cooler.  My favourite, at this time in my life, is Pinot Gris and the Naramata Bench produces some might fine ones.

We did tastings at several wineries and one that I found outstanding was Ruby Tuesday.  Named after the Rolling Stones’ song, “Ruby Tuesday”, an artist created the most beautiful label for their wines turning lyric into art:  ‘catch your dreams before they slip away’.  Currently, they are in the process of changing their name.  A certain American diner chain are laying stake to it.  Ironically, the Rolling Stones don’t mind at all but they will soon be known as ‘Ruby Blues Winery’.  I think that’s a shame.

Ruby Tuesday’s might possibly have the most magnificent view of the area in the Okanagan Valley.  It took my breath away.  A very friendly Scot, Dennis, poured wines for us to taste while regaling the history of the winery.  With each sip of the eight different wines we tasted I fell more in love with the land, the lakes, the mountains, the rivers and the people that make it all very right.  I’ve tasted a lot of different wines from a lot of different wineries but each one of the wines I tasted at Ruby Tuesday’s was as spectacular as the last.  I loved the Pinto Gris and Riesling and their blends, which they bottle under the names of ‘White Stiletto’ and ‘Red Stiletto’. 

The winemaker and her husband, who hail from Switzerland, have taken a cue from the artist who created the wine’s labels and logo, and have themselves created red stiletto shoes, funky yet elegant at the same time and they are just beginning to market them to the public.  What a lot of fun!  We purchased two bottles of their wine to take to our dinner hosts, Saxon’s aunt and uncle, and left in the sunshine feeling nice and sunny on the inside too!

We stopped for a picnic lunch along the lake, rolled up slices of salami and stuffed them with cheese, lay organic roast beef and avocado on fresh rolls and bit into local apples.  While my homemade cookie supply is dwindling considerably, there were still a few chocolate chip cookies left for dessert.  The backdrop of the twinkling lake and majestic mountains looked almost fake to me; could anything really be this beautiful?

In the late afternoon we visited Saxon’s relatives, sitting out on their patio, overlooking their lake, sharing glasses of wine as the sun went down and then a delicious dinner complete with Okanagan berry crisp. 

As we fell asleep back at our cottage our dreams included living in this area.  This is about as close to perfection as we’ve found!