Highways and Bottleneck : Penticton to beyond Summerland

Although it was a clear, sunny day despite a forecast that called for rain and/or snow, today was a tough one for us.  We have been looking forward to the 500 km long Kettle Valley Rail Trail for quite some time, having read about it and spoken to numerous cyclists who have sung its praises.  What we failed to realize before setting out was that most people consider the 12 km stretch of trail through Myra Canyon to be 'The KVR.'  Myra Canyon was indeed spectacular, and managed to exceed our expectations in almost every way.  And while we've enjoyed our time on the rest of this trail enormously as well, there is no way to suggest that the 13 km of today's hike out of Penticton was anything more than a disappointment.  Needless to say, in our current state of exhaustion, burnout, and disillusionment this wasn't what we needed.

But let's backtrack a little.  Our hike began with a beautiful walk along the lakeshore in Penticton.  Along the way we passed a Trans Canada Trail pavilion, which was the first full one we've encountered since Canmore, Alberta.  It was done in a unique style that mixed the logo of the Great Trail and the new logo of the Trans Canada Trail in a way that was interesting and also acknowledged the history and development of the TCT in a way that isn't often featured.  It was once again a little stunning to see the 'You Are Here' marker so close to the West Coast.

The pavilion was situated at the entrance to the Ikeda Japanese Garden, which was marked with an elegant red wooden gate. Penticton has been a sister city with Ikeda, Japan, which is located in the Nakagawa District of Tokachi in Hokkaido since 1977.  The garden celebrates this partnership and offers a place to experience some peace, quiet, and the beauty of nature along the waterfront.

As we walked along the landscaped trail we were delighted to pass the Hooded Merganser Restaurant and the Bufflehead Café, both of which hinted at an engaged birding community in the area.  Close to 200 species have been reported along the Okanagan lakeshore in Penticton, which also suggests it is a great place to go birding.

Sure enough, as we made our way around the shoreline, walking past a long sandy beach and a row of holiday motels and restaurants, we spotted a huge flock of several hundred American Coots floating out on the choppy grey waters of the lake.  They were joined by a Horned Grebe and a Pied-billed Grebe, both of whom were fishing closer to shore.  Several solitary Ring-billed Gulls scanned the waves for morsels at the water's edge. Most entertaining of all was watching a trio of American Crows playing 'catch' with a small stick. One would fly up into the air and drop it into the wind, and the other two would swoop in to catch it mid-air before it landed.  Their dexterity was amazing, and they kept the small stick airborne in the strong wind for quite some time.

At the far end of the waterfront trail we came to an outdoor museum, which consisted of several beautifully restored and preserved ships.  One was the S.S. Sicamous, which is the largest surviving stern wheeler in BC.  This four deck luxury vessel was commissioned by the CPR and built by the Western Dry Dock and Shipping Company for Okanagan Lake Service between Penticton, Kelowna, Vernon, and other towns along the Okanagan Lake.  It was active from 1914 to 1937, offering luxurious staterooms and cabins for passengers until 1935 when became primarily a cargo vessel.

The fully preserved SS Naramata was parked beside the SS Sicamous Marine Heritage Museum.  This is the only remaining steam tug boat in the interior of BC.  First launched in 1914, this tug boat was used to ferry fruit from Penticton to Okanagan Landing (Vernon) and variouis packing houses along the way.  She was also used as an icebreaker to clear a path for other vessels traveling across the lake in winter.

After exploring the waterfront and visiting the historical ships, we turned inland, following the road up to Highway 97, which the trail follows out of Penticton. This is one of BC's major highways, it is the longest continuously numbered route in the province (2,081 km), and it is the only highway that runs the entire north-south length of British Columbia.  It connects the Canada-US border near Osoyoos to Watson Lake in the Yukon.  When we head north to Tuktoyaktuk, NT next year we will find ourselves walking on this same highway for about 940 km, when we join the Alaska Highway in Dawson Creek and follow it to Watson Lake.

In this area, Highway 97 is a winding, high-speed, four lane highway that is travelled by up to 70,000 vehicles per day.  This is what the Trans Canada Trail follows for 13 km between Penticton and Summerland.  It is classified as a cycling route, and beyond the first hair-raising 3 km or so there was a paved shoulder for bicycles.  We were even passed by three cyclists who were flying down the long hill.  However, we simply don't enjoy walking on busy highways, and the long climb out of Penticton was no exception.

When we left Penticton we chose to walk in the cycling lane, facing traffic on the mountain side of the road, away from the lake.  Perhaps this was a mistake, as there was nowhere to stop on our side for a break during the long, unrelenting climb up to Summerland.  There were several treed rest areas on the opposite side of the highway, which likely offered beautiful views out over and across the lake, but we were separated from them by two lines of concrete crash barriers and four lanes of unceasing, fast moving traffic.  Many drivers were clearly distracted by us, and this affected their ability to safely navigate the highway's curves at the speeds they were travelling.  It was an extremely tiring and unpleasant 3 hours of climbing.  Enough said.

Finally we came to a crosswalk at a gas station on the edge of Summerland.  We ducked inside for a cold drink after the long climb, and then sat on the curb to drink it, thankful to finally be slightly farther away from the constant roar of the traffic. 

The area was first inhabited by the Syilx (Okanagan Salish).  The first settlers arrived in the 1880s, and began planting orchards.  Summerland was originally known as Trout Creek, and was home to George Barclay's cattle ranch, which was bought by Sir Thomas Shaughnessy in 1902 and turned into the community of Summerland.

The trail didn't take us into the community of Summerland, but rather wound us up and down through its vineyards and orchards on the famous 'Bottleneck Dr.'  Summerland is home to one of Canada's largest wine industries.  Giant Head, Dirty Laundry, Sumac Ridge, Heaven's Gate, and Sleeping Giant are just some of the more well-known wineries located in this area.  Bottleneck Dr is a popular route for driving tours, offering spectacular scenery and numerous opportunities to stop at the wineries for a tasting.  However, the steep and winding drive, which is full of blind corners isn't a great place for pedestrians, especially when mixed with drivers who've been visiting wineries.

A few kilometres into the steep, switch backing climb we came to the Trout Creek Trestle bridge.  This 188 m long, 73 m high bridge is considered by many to be the highest bridge on the KVR, and one of the highest in North America.  Apparently the original bridge was even longer, at 314 m, but the approaches were filled in when the bridge was rebuilt in 1928.

Unlike the other trestles along the KVR, the steel rails haven't been removed from the Trout Creek Trestle.  As a result, the Kettle Valley Steam Railway still offers a unique journey on one of BC's few remaining operational steam railways.  Steam locomotive no. 3716, aka "The Spirit of Summerland," which was built in 1912 by Montreal Locomotive Works, pulls two 1950s passenger coaches and the open air Kettle and McCulloch Kars for passengers.  Guides provide historical information on the railway and the Okanagan Valley during the ride.

At the end of the platform for the Kettle Valley Steam Railway, which is right at the end of the Trout Creek Trestle bridge, was a trail head with a few benches and an information kiosk.  Apparently Sir Thomas Shaughnessy, President of the CPR, hired J.M. Robinson to promote Summerland when the fruit growing community was first being established, and Robinson chose to name it after a spiritual hymn containing the words "that heavenly summer land."

The town site grew along the lakeshore, where stern-wheelers docked, delivering people and transporting produce to and from the community.  By 1907 the town had a school, electricity, a water system, and it was even on the telephone.  By 1915 the CPR lake service was complimented by the KVR, and West Summerland really began to thrive.  In the 1950s the highway was rerouted out of Summerland, and later the railway pulled out as well.  However, the orchards and vineyards in the region ensured it continued to thrive, and many old Tudor Revival styles homes still remain in the area.

After a short break at the station we continued up the winding road, which was extremely steep, and in quite a few places also very narrow.  It was a beautiful, sunny, Sunday afternoon, so unfortunately for us there was quite a lot of traffic on the road.  In an area that was all blind corners with no place to walk along or to step off to, we could only hope at every twist and turn that the approaching driver hadn't already visited too many wineries.  The steepness of the road, and the need to constantly check the phone to determine which way to turn, made for slow and tiring going.

Despite the challenges, it was easy to understand why people enjoy visiting this region.  The steep, rolling hills were covered in vineyards, the neat lines of lush green vines just beginning to turn yellow.  Bunches of plump green and dark purple grapes were hanging in rows along the bottom of the vines.  It reminded us very much of walking through the Rioja region of Spain along the Camino Frances.  It took me a moment to realize that this was partially because the directional and warning signs at the edges of the fields were written in both English and Spanish, indicating many of the labourers on these farms must travel in from Mexico and Spanish speaking parts of the Caribbean, Central and South America.

We also passed orchards, the short, dense fruit trees pruned to create rounded tunnels of glowing green light that stretched across the hills.  Crisp red and yellow apples still hung from the branches, releasing a strong, fresh, sweet smell into the warm afternoon sunshine.  The cozy rows of trees beckoned as we trudged endlessly upwards on the exposed asphalt road.  During the height of summer this would have been an unbearably hot climb to make on foot.

We wove through vineyards and orchards, the road seeming to get steeper as we climbed.  Eventually we found ourselves walking through a neighbourhood of homes tucked into the folds of the steep hillside.  At the end of one road we reached an impressive Halloween display, complete with a 12 ft tall skeleton.  Just beyond this we finally arrived at a trailhead, and diverted off the road onto a crushed stone dust pathway.

This access took us into Conkle Mountain Park, which is perched on the side of Conkle Mountain.  The 286 acre nature park was named after William H. Conkle, who homesteaded in the area with Alexander McLennan in 1886.  Mount Conkle is located above and to the south of the Prairie Valley, and as the KVR wound along its edge we were treated to spectacular views of the orchards and vineyards below, set against a backdrop of mountains beyond.

We wound along the sandy slope of the mountain.  Tall blond grasses and fragrant sage bushes bordered the trail, and tall ponderosa pines towered above our heads.  In several places it looked like the tall sand dunes had washed down the hillside above us, but the trail was kept in immaculate condition, and we passed quite a few people out walking their dogs and riding bikes.

About half way through the park we came to an impressive wooden gazebo perched out on a bluff with a wide-open, picture-perfect postcard view of the Prairie Valley below.  There was also a pit toilet, a picnic table, and several very interesting historical plaques. 

The first described 'Millionaires Row.' When CPR President Sir Shaughnessy began promoting Summerland, he 'kick-started' the community by convincing a group of his business partners to invest in orchards and vineyards in Prairie Valley.  Their properties became known as 'millionaires row' and they were owned by several bank presidents, a real estate magnate, an athlete, and the president of the Canadian Telegraph Company, among others.

Quite unexpectedly, the second sign featured Sam McGee, who was made famous in Robert Service's well-known poem 'The Cremation of Sam McGee.'  Apparently, the poem is based on a real person, who just happened to be a customer at the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce in Whitehorse, Yukon when Robert Service worked there as a bank teller in 1904.  The poem, which was published in 1907, tells of the cremation of a prospector who froze to death near Lake Laberge.  In reality, Service saw William Samuel McGee's name in his ledger, realized it rhymed with 'Tennessee,' and thought it had a nice ring to it. 

McGee was actually born in Lindsay, Ontario, and worked in road construction.  He did briefly get caught up in the Gold Rush, and travelled to the Klondike in 1898.  His prospecting was never successful, and he moved with his wife and daughter to Summerland for a time before ending up Beisker, Alberta, where he worked in construction until his death in 1940.  He is now buried there (not cremated).  It was interesting to learn the story of Sam McGee, and to realize that we have walked through both Lindsay, Ontario and Beiseker, Alberta on the Trans Canada Trail.

We continued climbing along the shaded slope of Conkle Mountain, enjoying the scenery and the peaceful forest.  Eventually we emerged at a large trail head at the edge of the rodeo grounds.  By this time the light was beginning to fade fast as the climb up from Summerland had taken us far longer than we had anticipated.  As we stopped to look at the map at the trailhead, a man approached and asked if we were lost.  We said no, that we were just passing through.  He told us enthusiastically that the trail was lovely through the park, but much of the trail in the region was a mess and that it was truly unfortunate that it was broken from Penticton to Summerland by highways and roadways.  This seemed like a pretty accurate description to us.

We had been hoping to reach the Crump Recreational site to camp tonight, but it was becoming clear by this point that the light was fading too fast for us to make that goal in daylight.  Clearly we had underestimated the steepness of the climb out of Penticton.  As in previous days, we had little choice but to continue walking until we could find a source of water.

As we left the rodeo grounds behind we passed the Prairie Valley Station, which is now the home base for the Kettle Valley Steam Railway.  This station was not one of the original ones on the KVR.  The historic location of the West Summerland station was about 5 km east of where the museum stands, and it had a section house, a siding, water tank, and telegraph agent.  The original station served both the local agricultural and fruit industry and passengers until 1964, but in 1986 it was destroyed.

Sadly the station was closed and seemed to be boarded up for the winter, so we continued on, following the road and then picking up the rail trail again on our way to Faulder.  It was almost completely dark by this point, and the temperature was starting to fall rapidly.  We followed the trail for perhaps another hour.  It was too dark to determine what lay beyond the treed edges of the trail with any accuracy, but we seemed to skirt around a gravel pit and a while later we saw the lights of Faulder shining through the trees.

The trail was snaking along beside Trout Creek, down a steep slope from the Princeton Summerland Rd.  At the first opportunity where we found a flat place to pitch the tent, and had access to water from the creek, we stopped for the night.  Cold, tired, and ready for a break we didn't bother with dinner, but rather contented ourselves with some wraps and partially frozen peanut butter.  It seems incredible that in one single day we walked from the warm, sunny shores of Okanagan Lake, up through lush orchards and vineyards, past millionaire's row, and now we find ourselves once again alone on the banks of a small mountain stream, surrounded by forest.  Even after almost 13,000 km on the trail, the beauty and diversity of Canada never fail to amaze us.

 “The road is long and seeming without end
The days go on….”

                                                                                        Bruce Springsteen, I’ll See You in My Dreams

See you on the trail!

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