Three Days at Taite Creek

Biene took the school bus to Nakusp on Thursday, where the students attended a number of cultural sessions presented by the aboriginal people of the region. Our Ford Escape was therefore available for me to pull our trailer to the local campground at Taite Creek. I was lucky. Our favorite camp site was still vacant. It offers the most beautiful view onto the lake and is located right above the bocce field, which our son Tony had once built for us many years ago.

By setting up the trailer and having all supplies ready for a three-days stay, we had almost gained an additional day of camping. Right after Biene returned from Nakusp, we headed out to the lake. After a delicious chicken dinner I made a campfire. I played the harmonica and was amazed to discover how many of the folk songs and scout melodies I still remembered, while I was playing one tune after another. Later on at the crackling sound of the campfire, we started our outdoor crib competition. Soft popular classical music, a glass or two of red wine for Biene and a bottle of Pale Ale added a romantic touch to the relaxing evening atmosphere.

On the following days, which were mostly sunny and warm, Mother Nature provided for body and soul peace and tranquility at the lakeshore and in the nearby woods. In the shade of a pine tree, Biene immersed herself in the fascinating book ‘Suite Française’, while I took walks to the Taite Creek bridge, strolled along the rocky lakeshore, or ventured into the deep forest. Of course, my camera accompanied me on all my excursions capturing images of flowers, some so small that they would escape notice for most people walking by.

Early in the morning, well before the blazing sun could turn our gaming pleasure into pain, we played a round of bocce. Biene and I are very competitive by nature and often fiercely argue over whose ball is closer to the jack and score the point. However, at the end, we would congratulate each other for having played such an ‘amiable’ game.

On the night before Father’s Day, we sat once more at the campfire. I opened a bottle of Henkell Dry. While we were chatting and sipping champagne, we listened to our favorite music of the 60’s. At the rhythmic beat of a particularly lively hit from our teenage years Biene spontaneously started to dance. When the rain came later on, we looked at the event as a blessing from above for the tinder dry forests all around us. Cheerfully we withdrew into the shelter of our cozy trailer and listened to the music of the raindrops on the trailer roof, while drifting off to sleep.

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