head-smashed-in buffalo jump

I’m a big fan of places with crazy names. I’ve always wanted to visit Zeal Monachorum in Devon, perhaps after stopping for tea in Nempnett Thrubwell, Somerset. I’m the guy who took a bus 8 hours north from Winnipeg just so I could say I had been to Flin Flon, Manitoba. And I love other Canadian names like Moose Factory, Sioux Lookout or Medicine Hat. But nothing we are to percieve in this world could match the nominative awesomeness of Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump here in Alberta. Or as they say in French and Blackfoot

If you can’t be bothered to read the blurb then Head-Smashed-In is one of many buffalo jumps used by the Blackfoot first nation in this area. Rather than hunting them individually the Blackfoot struck upon the cunning plan to stampede them over a cliff. The logo for the centre gets the idea across quite nicely

Archaelogical evidence shows that it was in use for roughly 4000 years, right up until the 1870s when the buffalo herds were all but eradicated by the spread of European settlers and agriculture. That for me was the most profound part of the excellent interpretive center that’s built into the hillside. They showed accounts from the 18th and 19th centuries that commented on the massive bison herds that people thought would last for ever. Then within 20 years they were gone. Blackfoot society and culture was utterly dependent on the bison and in the space of one generation had to re-invent itself fundamentally in order to survive. Beyond that tragedy I couldn’t help thinking: what if our society was utterly dependent on a single natural resource and one day that ran out, what changes might we have to make, would we manage?

All in all it was well worth the 2 hour drive from Calgary. The weather was good and the scenery wonderful. The buffalo jump is right on the edge of the prairies to the east and the Rockies to the west. This is the main cliff over which the bison were stampeded.

old growth

Part 2 of my Vancouver Island holiday was to drive out to the west coast and sample the delights of the Pacific Rim National Park about which I had heard nothing but good things. The park itself is in three parts and I was heading for the Long Beach section between Tofino and Uclulet.

Long Beach is well named. It’s an area of long sandy beaches backed by ancient temperate rainforest and mountains in the distance. It’s really spectacular.

I was incredibly lucky with the weather too. It’s not called a rainforest for nothing but there wasn’t a drop until the final morning when I was packing up my tent. In the first couple of days I was treated to wonderful blue skies and sensational sunsets

Tofino, just north of the park boundary, has become a bit of a surfing hotspot but sadly I didn’t partake. Sea kayaking is also very popular but the main thing visitors come for is the whale watching. I took a trip that managed to combine some sightseeing, whale watching and a dip in the natural hot springs which was great fun. We took a boat about 45mins north of town to Hot Springs Cove and on the way we saw a grey whale. It was a bit like going on safari, you don’t need to try and spot the animals – just look for all the land rovers. Here we headed for a cluster of 3 boats and sure enough – thar she blows! Considering I’d seen my first ever hummingbird that morning, plus any number of bald eagles and a guillemots it was a great day for nature watching.

The dock at Hot Springs Cove is a 30 minute walk through the rainforest from the actual hot spring itself. There is something truly remarkable about old growth (the pristine forest that has never been logged) rain forest. Huge trees (some up to 800 years old), masses of moss and ferns, light and shade and an incredible sense of power and age. I’ve been reading a book recently that talked about Mythic Power (and how the city of Edmonton needed some!) and I never really knew what they meant until walking along the boardwalks in these old growth forests. You can see why people get so worked up about their preservation. When plans were announced to log Clayoquot Sound it prompted the largest act of civil disobedience in Canadian history. Despite all that hullaballoo the area is still threatened. If you felt the need to hug a tree that needs hugging you could help out the Friends of Clayoquot Sound.

Anyway… it’s a lovely walk and there at the end of it is this extraordinary sight. A stream bubbling up from the rock and steaming as it flows down to the sea.

At the top it’s really too hot to bear but the stream flows over a rock ledge forming a wonderfully hot outdoor shower. Considering my campsite had no showers at all this was very welcome. The water then collected in pools getting progressively cooler as it ran down to the sea. At the water’s edge you could sit in the ocean and have the cold waves wash over you while the warm water ran out over your back which was a really weird sensation.

canadian gothic

I took some holiday either side of last weekend and got a quick flight over to Vancouver Island. My first stop was the village of Cumberland to see my friends Kate and Rupert and their delightful daughter Amy. These brave souls have traded Shepherds Bush for a new life on Vancouver Island.

So far it seems to be treating them rather well. They have a wonderful mountain view from their house and a magnificent (if temperamental!) 1980 Dodge camper-van called Delilah to get around in. Cumberland seems more than a world away from the Bush but like Rossland, B.C. I immediately felt an urge to give up the rat-race and move there! Watching people unload their mountain bikes to hit the local bike trails in the evening really gave me a sense that folks are living the good life out there. Mind you, as recent news shows, there’s a grittier side to Vancouver Island too.

I rented a bike one afternoon to try out some of the trails. I asked for something “not too technical” and they recommended I try one called Buggered Pig for starters. Blimey! Considering the tow-path from Chiswick to Richmond is where I’ve done most of my off-road riding it was quite an eye opener. Enormous fun riding on a narrow trail through enormous trees but the roots and the twists and ups and downs really take cycling to a new level. I felt like I need to learn to ride a bike all over again and in fact I was pushing/carrying it nearly as much as I rode it. The trail had a couple of sections of exciting looking boardwalk and trestles but as I fell off as soon as I set wheel upon one I gave them a miss after that. I faired a lot better on Momma Bear’s Trail of Tears which was a bit wider and far less rooty.

our number 1 priority

Walking past a building site on the way home tonight I spotted this:

fact x importance = news

Even with the Morris formula above it’s still almost impossible to express the magnitude of the CBC’s plan to drop the Hockey Night in Canada themetune in Canada. But with 405 comments so far, it’s fair to say this is THE big story.

There are some really touching stories in the comments and related articles about what the song means to people. I can vouch for the way Canadians will sing it at the drop of the hat. Playing for a nearly all Canadian frisbee team in London a few years back we would sing the theme before games.

housework: it’s everything you love about hockey

My flat has laminate flooring and my landlord provided me with a stock of brooms, mops and sweeping devices. I broke one this morning but being in a mood for tidying I came up with rather a nifty work-around.

Perfect off-ice training before the next hockey season. Look out for the Euro-dangle!

skill!

I’ve surfed home this evening on a massive wave of 80s nostalgia having seen Son of Rambow – I can’t recommend it highly enough. I took me right back I can tell you… Corona bottles… kids saying “Skill!”… and don’t get me started on my years in the Plymouth Brethren. Happy days.

It also reminded me of my own early forays into moviemaking in the 80s. I was merely a humble actor while the auteur with the vision to make it happen was my friend Letty. Our first film was a homage to the classic ZZ Top videos of the Eliminator era (sorry Dave). These tended to follow a standard format: the bearded band playing by the roadside, a bright red muscle car and a bevy of glamorous women. Frankly beards we were never going to manage but we bought some comedy ones from a joke shop and with two tennis rackets and a dustbin we had a band. Once we’d persuaded the fragrant Tracey Allinson and Jo Bolitho to be in the film we had legit glamorous dames so all we needed was the car. That’s where Letty’s red 2CV (aka Hercules) came in, probably the closest teenagers in Oxfordshire were going to get to a muscle car. With a disused airfield near Culham filling in for the Texas badlands we were ready to shoot.

I don’t remember too much of plot to be honest. I know I played a humble mechanic and there was something to do with the car breaking down, Tracey looking all come-hither, me fixing the car and being, erm, suitably compensated. I can promise you it was all done in the best possible taste.

With that experience under his belt Letty’s next directorial project was more ambitious. It was a homage to the golden era of film noir featuring a hard-bitten detective called Dick Spanner (that would be me), a femme fatale called Prudence Pays (Tracey again), snappy dialogue, stunts (Tom Gosling falling into the Cherwell!) and multiple locations. I think more of us had learned to drive by that point so we could manage a more elaborate production. The chase scene which ended with Tom’s dive into the river was filmed in the University Parks, the scene with vicar (very Raymond Chandler) in Long Hanborough I think and the interior shots were in St Edmund Hall college, Oxford. It was proper Hollywood – Letty had storyboarded the whole thing and I believe there was even a hillarious bloopers reel as well. I would love to see the tape of that again – moving pictures of me with hair!

this one’s for Rani

In honour of England somehow winning the last Test…

Das Boots

As of today, and the kindness of Ms Ashley Bristowe, I own a pair of cowboy boots!

Yee haw!

school daze

The timing of my trip home was planned to coincide with my 20 year school reunion. I still see quite a few school friends but there are plenty I haven’t seen since 1988 so I was really looking forward to it. It was being organised by my good friend Jig in his capacity as President of the Old Abingdonian Club and he did an outstanding job. At the evening dinner the current headmaster (who was new to me) mentioned that the biggest turnout they had had for the Presidents dinner was 92 in the past. This year we had over 170!

The plan for the day was drinks at noon, a game of cricket on the school field then dinner in the evening. The cricket was a great game and came down to the final over but alas the class of 1989 came up victorious. The whole day was far less weird than I had thought it would be and it was great to catch up with so many people. It was funny seeing the folks with grey hair, or no hair (hello!) but still being able to see their 18 year old selves quite clearly within. I was left with two feelings: by and large people don’t change and that I was lucky enough to go to school with a great bunch of guys. I had always thought the latter but this weekend reminded me that that wasn’t just nostalgia.