Who knows what lies around the next corner? Enjoy the moment. There lies the tricky part.
A full moon on the rise. The event seems to take forever to arrive and is over in a moment. Sunset occurred only moments before, the color of which shows in the moonrise. Glad we made the effort. Nothing good occurs without effort. Success doesn’t happen with effort. Love doesn’t flourish without effort. Thanks for making the effort to visit :>
Well, I made it. The top of Albert-Edward after failing 3 weeks ago. There were many others making the journey, and this made the effort more bearable. The hike is not particularly epic, but I’ve never put out so much effort in one day before. There is a ‘guest book’ in a cylinder here at the top that we couldn’t get open to sign. I’m not sure if that is ironic or not.
This is one of the views looking down to the path. My last post was from the other end of the ramp, wistfully looking up. You can just see the path heading up (down). That’s the ocean way in the background. The rocks were not the nicest thing to walk on – very sharp and loose. Hard on the knees and brutal to the shoes.
Part of the ridge at the top. To the right is an abrupt edge and then down. Abruptly down. This ridge stretched for a ways, and there is plenty of room up relax up here, but I couldn’t shake my vertigo feelings. Just a little ways down from here is a crack that runs a good ways along the face. It’s about 6 feet deep and 4 feet wide, and it’s the kind of crack that indicates that the top of the mountain wants to slough off into the great nowhere on the other side. It’s not a new crack, but it didn’t help me relax.
Coast mountain rock, as far as I can see.
Nothing gentle about the terrain up here. I could see Albert-Edward every day from the highway near town as I went about my service work. Mountains can talk, and this one was taunting me. It’s only about 6,000 feet high, and very popular with hikers. Not a great accomplishment really, but I’m pleased that I can claim it.
Well, there it is and I can’t get there. Slightly over a kilometer to go, but it may as well have been 93 million kilometers. I wasn’t that disappointed, actually. I was exhausted. Never have I been so tired. This was part of a 2-day attempt of a peak that is really not that hard. Bad planning, a heavy pack, bugs, bugs, and more bugs, and here I am, goal in sight, but unattainable today. Not to worry, another time.
That’s Moat lake down there. Come to think of it, almost everything is DOWN there. Note the cabins on the island. Nice place but it reminds me too much of a volcano.
I sat here for about an hour while my hiking buddy tried for the summit. Spectacular, except for the bugs. Did I mention the bugs???? There are waterfalls everywhere up here.
This has been posted a kagillion times, I know. But this is MY version. I want to try this again soon, but as a day trip. It’s 31 kilometers from parking lot to peak, and back. Wish me luck (or maybe brains. I’m not too sure if this is a good idea, even though I know I can manage it.)
This is my office. I know I showed a different location in an earlier post, but it changes day to day. I was on Hornby Island this week. Did you know that waves washing up on a gravel beach sound entirely different than those onto a sand beach? More muted, softer, and probably easier to sleep near. A caveat – who wants to sleep on gravel!
This is natures’ concrete. Chunks great and small fall from the bluffs far above and land here on the beach. Must make quite a spectacle and racket.
I have no idea what these are/were. They caught my eye is all. I should be paying attention to where I’m walking. I would NOT like to slip and fall on this stuff.
Now this is odd. That ‘tree’ is stone. Petrified???? I dunno, but I’m going to make something up on this, be passionate about it and go on the lecture circuit. You can book me anytime; my schedule is open at this point.
Another oddity. That boulder is cemented into the background conglomerate. I thought it was splitting, but it isn’t as such. It’s more like something is eating it selectively, or it’s dissolving. I’ll have to tour the lecture circuit on this one next year :>.
We (sorry, I mean “I”) really live in a beautiful area of BC. What you don’t know is, the view in the other direction is quite different. No, I’m not telling. Cheers, and thanks for visiting.
Komoux glacier. By definition, that’s a lot of snow up there. It dominates the horizon. The great thing about living by the sea is the lack of snow down here. I love that. I can go snowshoeing without having to showshoe from my house to my truck.
If you have beaches, you have logs at the storm line. I was looking far a red cedar piece to split for birdhouse roofs (rooves???). I found one, brought it home and discovered a hairline split right in the middle that only became apparent when actually split. Ah well, it has a delightful smell to it. That’s one of the reasons I like working with wood.
Looking south. that’s Denman Island. A delightful view.
I’m not the only one into ‘woodworking’. This work is attractive, if only an incidental thing. There is so much for the eye to see and the mind to ponder.
I find this amusing. Maybe it’s just me. After all, a ‘P’ with a slash means no perching, right??
This trip was to Goose Spit. My lovely wife and I took the chance to grab a little morning sunshine as we haven’t seen much of ol’ del sol lately. Chilly and bright, a perfect winter’s day.