Now that our trip is over, I can show you a little bit of where we were.
I already told you that Coalmont is a unique place. One evening, we went with my parents to the Coalmont Hotel pub. The hotel was opened in 1912 and could tell some stories. The rooms are all in disarray now, and only the pub is operational. The old building is just crying out for someone to come along and fix it up. Someone with a truckload of cash! The pub, however, was lovely. In an old kind of way.Across the road is the old meat market - another "come and fix me up" kind of place. With the right marketing (and foresight and work and money), this old town... village... hamlet could be so cute and alive!
We smelled strongly of wood smoke, as we had a fire burning constantly. The weather was unseasonably cold, which set me to worrying that summer was over. (Fortunately, it is now 30 degrees again, so I'm happy!)
On my parents' property, there is a tiny log thing. Too small to be called a cabin, but a bit larger than a shed; it has a proper toilet inside (yay!) and a fridge and a sofa. Quite handy. At some point, we hope to build a house that will fit all of us.My dad was busy with a building project - a deck attached to the little cabin, which will be screened in to keep the bugs out. I'm so proud of my dad - at almost 72, he can build anything, and still works almost full time, doing renovations.
Terry, the neighbour across the road, comes over frequently. He is a landscaper and has a little Bobcat that he drives over to help out with all kinds of jobs. He also has three Jack Russell terriers. Little Spud always sits on Terry's lap when he comes over with his ever-present cigarette and a drink. I told you Coalmont is unique!
The Trans-Canada Trail runs through the area, built on the old Kettle Valley Railway bed. It's OK for snowmobiling, according to the sign, but make sure you are not riding ATVs on it! Homeward bound, camperless, pulling Big Bear's beloved KLR motorcycle.
PS - three days after the fallen tree fiasco, Bob the Lumberjack was finally (reluctantly) found on the road with his WWII fighter pilot father, and was thoroughly thanked and paid. With money, too!