The Kettle Valley Rail Trail isn’t all remote mountain views and trestles; we rode beside grapevines and past winery doors on a section from Penticton to cute little Naramata. I liked Naramata, lovely by the lake, but also because it reminded me of Australian names, many of which end with …ata, sometimes …atta. Homesick for Australian wine country again.
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We got on the, still unfinished, Kettle Valley Railway (rail trail) bypassing Kelona and on to Penticton. The Myra-Bellevue Provincial Park is the most spectacular section of the trail, with 18 trestles and two tunnels in an 8.5 kilometer section. We’ve a nice half day at Exit Glacier for a hike, and a sunny day to be on Prince William Sound. No time to write, but lots of photos of landscapes, glaciers and wildlife: There is something about the light here this past week: soft and heavy and long nearly through the night; long and soft and ineffectual. I find it vaguely depressing, sometimes not so vaguely. An hour of blessed sunshine makes it worse, knowing it will go away and take the mountains and the spectral highlights, the sparkle, with it. The sun, slow to come, always going away, soon. I know I shouldn’t feel this way about the North. I feel guilty about, which doesn’t help any. All the beauty; moose, bears, lakes, mountains, and still snow patches and sometimes glaciers. But the light is just not there, just not right, yet. There were days during the months we spent in Iceland |
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