Homeward bound. Part 1

The water level was so low that underwater photographers had problems to keep their camera submerged.

When fully grown salmon travel from the ocean back home to their inland freshwater gravel beds to spawn, it’s a spectacle to behold. So, we took up our gear and headed for the Adam’s River in the Tsútswecw Provincial Park where their arrival peaks this time of the year.

Fierce but friendly Gloria- the elderly landlady of the quaint little campground nearby the park- immediately set the tone. The sign on her back door porch warned all burglars to carry ID’s so that next of kin could be notified. And from her front door porch she defiantly announced that her husband was out hunting moose. “I was raised on moose. Moose and elk. It’s the best meat in the world.” Also, that we should get our asses inside the van the moment the house bear arrived to snack on the apples from the big tree smack in the middle of the yard. But as it was to be expected, the house bear didn’t show up for us. We are used to it by now that the many warnings against bears far exceed the sightings of the bears themselves. But the mauled corpses of salmon on the riverbank were proof of bears being around alright, fattening up and getting ready for their own winter home coming event.

We have seen more warnings than the bears themselves. But we were lucky enough to spot a fat healthy black bear beside the road on our way to the US border yesterday.

Every 4 years – and 2022 happens to be such a “dominant” year – the spectacularly weird looking sockeye salmon return in record numbers to their spawning and dying fields. We joined busloads of children and Canadians from all over the country to celebrate this heroic feat and to pay our respect during the “Salute to the Sockeye “ event. The same way First Nation People did thousands of years ago and are still doing now.

The salmon used to arrive in their millions causing the entire river to turn red with sockeye. Until canneries, dams, fish farms, pollution and global warming intervened and now they are in their hundred thousand. Hatcheries, fishing quota, fish ladders seem to be no more than band-aids, unable to turn the tide.

Salute to the Sockeye is also very much a First Nations event and a celebration of native culture.

Ever since we learned about the horrendous residential schools and the disastrous Indian Act we have an immense respect for the resilience of the First Nation Peoples and their ongoing struggle to find their way back home.

“Shadows on the Wall” by Lucas Janssens.
The healing power of art. But it is still a long way home.

*The kids were very much into it, and so were we.*

Just like the salmon, we too are homeward bound. Not for reproduction reasons of course, that ship has long since sailed. And we don’t plan it to be our final migration either. Neither do we have to dodge all kinds of fierce predators and lethal hazards. But it is a long and winding road, nevertheless. We have fallen under Bacchus’ spell as we gently float on a river of wine through the Okanagan valley where friends reside and conversations flow.

*Meet Catalina & Lucas, Belgian immigrants and humanists without borders with a contagious sense for romance and adventure.*

Meet Megan and Danny, South-African immigrants *who know all about wine but who are now into cold brew coffee instead.* *Romance and adventure is their middle name.*

Storytelling is an integral part of our wine sipping spree. Winery estates named Blasted Church, Burrowing Owl, Mission Hill, Moon Curser or Nk’Mip– the latter being the first indigenous owned winery in North America – not only stimulate the taste buds, they also spur the imagination. As does the landscape with its vibrant green vineyards under dramatic skies and at times in stark contrast to the surrounding mountains of gray.

We didn’t know about the Okanagan. Now we do.

“Blasted Church”is named after an old wooden church that was dismantled via a controlled “blast” of dynamite which only loosened the nails, so that it could safely be reassembled in a different location. The church is still standing.

*“Moon Curser” – ” an invaluable cache of Osoyoos sunlight” – is named after gold rush smugglers.* On the wine label it says:**“Damn you moon for lighting my run tonight. This gold is mine, and no border agent is going to tax me. “**

*Times have clearly changed since our moon cursers friends did nightly border runs to Breda.*

In Canada, religion is free but religion is not allowed to call to prayer with church bells or through the muezzin or any other public sound. But the Mission Hill Wine Estate is allowed to ring its bell because they are not a church. They only worship wine.

*Deep down in the Mission Hill cellars, a secret alcove keeps ancient wine* *jugs* *as sacred relics.*

*Around Osoyoos, the explosion of fall colors gradually made place for the more subdued hues of the Sonoran Desert which reaches with a long thin finger from Mexico all the way up into this part of BC.*

*The high concentration of minerals creates these rings in the “Spotted Lake” , NW of Osoyoos.*

*The Nk’Mip Desert Cultural Centre is an architectural gem that blew My Captain off his socks.*

The museum is semi-underground the way the traditional winter dwellings of the Okanagan First Nations were built. The walls are made of “rammed earth”: layers of modern concrete mixed with soil & minerals.

When we reached the border and were about to roll into the USA, we suddenly realized we had quite a few bottles of Canadian wine on board, as well as a small vial of CBD oil which has a calming effect on the recurrent nerve itch in My Captain’s right arm. But what could possibly go wrong? Nothing but a flat tire the moment we cruised on the highway. Thank god only 2 miles away from an exit and the Les Schwab Tire Center.