Switchbacks and Rock Ovens : Chute Lake to Penticton

After a sleepless night in the freezing cold, we waited until it was light and then got up.  The autumn scene that greeted us outside the tent was stunning! Fall colours decorated the forested slopes that rose up around Chute Lake, whose still waters were blanketed in a soft white mist. Crunchy white frost covered everything - outlining leaves, grasses, logs and making a thick furry coating on the picnic table.

Although the beauty of the morning was breathtaking, it came at a cost.  No matter how we pegged our tent, or what parts of it we leave open at night, when the temperature falls below zero at night, condensation soaks everything inside - not just making it damp, but enough to form actual puddles on the floor.  As in previous days, the fly was covered in a thick layer of ice, and even after shaking it out, enough remained where over the course of the day it melted and drenched everything that wasn't already wet inside my pack. These days – after 4 years on the Trans Canada Trail – all of our waterproof stuff sacks now have holes, so even packed into an extra covering everything is wet by day’s end.  This is a real problem now, because the sun is no longer strong enough to completely dry our gear during a break throughout the day. We never had these troubles with our Big Agnes tent, and perhaps now they are the result of a rooky mistake.  Nonetheless, they make for very, very, cold mornings and nights.

This morning, with painfully frozen fingers and toes, we bid goodbye to the beautiful, mist shrouded lake and made our way back to the Kettle Valley Rail Trail.  A few small cabins and shacks lined the sandy and rocky pathway, and almost immediately we crossed a bridge over a very active stream.  This would have been a much easier spot to collect water than in the very shallow lake, but sadly we didn't discover it until it was too late.

Almost right away we came to a sign for Rock Ovens Park, which officially began about 9 km east of Chute Lake.  The park was created to preserve the rock ovens after which it was named.  Around a dozen of these rounded, stone structures have been found and preserved in the area between Chute Lake and Naramata.  They were used by railway camp cooks during 1912 and 1915 to bake for the hardworking and hungry railway construction crews.

Just past the sign for the park we found rock oven #12.  It was a cute looking rounded dome tucked in at the base of a large esker, that was built from square-ish stacked stones.  It reminded us a little of a more primitive version of the rounded brick ovens used by the French settlers in Quebec that we saw when we walked the Route de la Nouvelle-France through the Côte-de-Beaupré from Cap Tourmente to Quebec City.

As we made our way toward the park we followed a wide, gravel logging road through a corridor of green. The trembling aspens that bordered the trail were beginning to drop their leaves, adding a layer of colourful yellow to the grey ribbon of the trail. Bands of sunlight added to the warmth of the cheerful fall colours, but as we made our way along we began to smell wood smoke, and the light began to take on the telltale orange glow caused by nearby forest fires.

Soon we began to see signs for cycling trails heading off both up and down the slopes on either side of the Kettle Valley Rail Trail.  They were constructed and maintained by the Woodwackers, a group of mostly retired folks who have been the unofficial caretakers of the Kettle Valley Rail Trail (KVR) from Chute Lake to Penticton since about 1990.  Ray Ward of the KVR Woodwackers was responsible for finding and repairing many of the rock ovens in the area as well.  We can attest that this group has done a fantastic job on the trail, and they have our sincere thanks!

About two hours into our walk we crossed the boundary into Rock Ovens Park, and very shortly afterwards we came to a sign for Rock Oven #11.  Understandably, many of the ovens weren't built right on the railway line, but rather in the camps, which were established some distance away.  The camp where rock oven #11 was located was 700 m off the trail, up a steep looking slope. Apparently remnants of the camp, the well, and the oven can be seen up there, but since today was already very long, we didn't go exploring.

Instead, we took a very short break at the rest area, which featured a pit toilet, a picnic table, and a fire pit.  Most impressive by far was an old growth stand of ponderosa pines.  The bright red trunks towered above our heads, and they had truly enormous bases.  As we move westward everything in nature is getting larger - the animals, the individual bird species, and the trees.  Looking up at the huge ponderosa pines, we couldn't help wondering what history these colourful giants had witnessed.  They can live up to 500 years, so it is possible they were already present before the railway was built, or even before it became an idea.

Around half an hour later we came to the Woodwacker Campsite, which consisted of a picnic table, a fire pit, and a pit toilet perched at the top of a steep forested ravine above Robinson Creek.  It looked like a fantastic spot to camp, and we could hear quite a bit of water babbling and tumbling down the slopes below us in the creek bed, but we didn't see an easy way to access it.  Over the course of the day we crossed Robinson Creek twice more, and access to both it and a freshwater spring was much easier at the second crossing.

We followed the gravel rail trail along the sunny, dry, forested slopes for another half an hour or so before arriving at Adra Station.  A picnic table was sitting under a roofed shelter on top of the octagonal concrete base of the old water tower.  On the opposite side of the trail the remains of the old station house's foundation were still visible.

This station was located just before the famous 489 m long Adra Tunnel, which makes a 217- degree curve within the mountain. The tunnel marked the beginning of two huge switch backs that McCulloch had to build to allow trains to descend 850 m to Penticton without exceeding the allowable 2.2% grade.  We had expected to follow a bypass around this impressive sounding tunnel, due to a cave-in near the middle which has made it impassable for many years. The tunnel was named after the Spanish seaport of Adra, because the views out over the Okanagan Valley and Summerland below reminded the builders of Spain.

As we approached the entrance to the tunnel we saw a large pile of rock and rubble piled high behind a section of construction fencing.  At first it looked like the way forward was completely blocked, but when we arrived we saw a bypass.  A crew was hard at work at the tunnel's entrance, using large machines to clear the debris, and they stopped to ask where we were hiking.  After we got to chatting they offered to let us take a look at the entrance to the tunnel, and explained that they were doing repairs and restoring it in order to make it safe for future trail users to pass.  The tunnel is both the longest on the KVR and curved, so from the entrance way it was impossible to see light at the far end.

Eventually we followed the bypass around the tunnel, coming to a sharp curve and heading back the way we'd come.  From the tunnel’s exit it is a distance of 8 km to Penticton, yet the train had to follow 24 km of switch backs to make the descent.  In some ways this long detour felt like a waste, especially because it was becoming increasingly evident that the views which this stretch of trail is known for were hidden behind a thick cloud of white smoke.

Soon after heading down our first (of three switchbacks) we came to another resting site, with a wooden bench, signs pointing the way to rock ovens #1 & 2, a board with a wealth of historical information, and a bed with the Adra irises, which had been planted there in 1920 by the station mistress.  There was also a sign pointing out one of the largest ponderosa pines in the park, which had a diameter at breast height of 4.5 m. We stopped to read the plaque and take a look at the enormous pine, before continuing onward.

For the next few hours (and 22km) we followed the old rail bed as it made its steady descent down the side of the mountain.  By this point it was a warm, sunny, morning and the tangy smell of pine hung strong in the air.  Gradually the rocky, conifer dominated slopes gave way to more sandy, grassy hillsides dominated by pine.  We kept a sharp lookout for Western rattlesnakes among the loose rocks, junipers, and grasses, but chipmunks and red squirrels where the only things we spotted moving along the trail edges.

After making the final switch back turn at Glenfir station we descended down toward Little Tunnel, where purportedly of the best views on KVR can be found.  After a parking lot with picnic tables, a trail head, maps, and a high-end restroom the trail became a paved cycling route that hugged the edge of the cliff, curving around along a huge, and steep drop-off to the vineyards and neighbourhoods 340 m below.  No railings or barriers separated pedestrians and cyclists from the edge, which was a little vertigo inducing, but the expansive view out over the valley included Naramata, Penticton, Okanagan Lake, and Skaha Lake beyond.

When we arrived the parking lot was full, and there were lots of cyclists and walkers out enjoying the views and the sunny afternoon.  We took a break at a picnic table right at the entrance to Little Tunnel. From our vantage point we could see straight through the small rock tunnel, which lived up to its name, being only a few meters long. As we watched, several cyclists on ebikes stopped to take selfies along the edge.  When they attempted start peddling up the gentle slope again many wobbled alarmingly before the motors engaged, making us tense up as their front tires grazed the soft trail edge at the lip of the unprotected drop.

Unfortunately today the valley below us was still filled with smoke, which appeared bright white in the hot afternoon sunshine.  The result being that we have once again lost our blue skies and none of the popular views were possible to see.  However, when we continued on through Little Tunnel, we were nonetheless amazed by the scope of Okanagan Lake.  Legend has it that this waterbody is home to a fearless lake monster known as N'ha-a-itk by the Indigenous Peoples who first inhabited the valley, and as Ogopogo by the settlers who came afterwards.  It was believed that the monster lived in a cave near Squally Point, and the settlers were instructed not to venture onto the waters alone, and to provide periodic animal sacrifices to keep it satisfied.

The afternoon sun was hot as we made our way down the trail towards Naramta and Penticton.  In some stretches a line of pines provided intermittent shade and in others we walked between rock cuts along the edge of Okanagan Mountain.  Small red sumacs lined the trail with colour, creating a beautiful contrast with the blue of the hills receding into the distance across the lake.  We shared the immaculately maintained crushed stone dust trail with many other cyclists.

One of the highlights of this section was spotting several gopher snakes.  These beautiful reptiles resemble rattlesnakes, except for a less triangular shaped head, and a longer, more pointy tail that lacks a rattle.  The first one we spotted was quite small, and seemed to be quite shy, curling up into a ball to hide its head behind its coils when we stopped to look at it. The second one we spotted was over 2 ft long, and stretched out right across the trail.  Even for a large snake this seemed like a bold move, because just overhead a magnificent Red-tailed Hawk was circling low over the trail.

In this section the trail was highly developed, with benches, pit toilets, information kiosks, and trail heads.  When we came to Arawana Station we found another picnic table under a roofed shelter perched on top of the base of the old water tower.

Further down the trailway the nearby community of Naramata began in 1906 when John Moore Robinson purchased land in the area.  He claimed that the name 'Naramata' came to him during a séance, but it may also have come from a First Nations word.  The Syilx name for the area is 'Citxws Peqlqin' or 'Eagle's House.'  Robinson sold parcels of land to immigrants from the British Isles as well as people from all over Canada.  By 1908 a ferry service commenced that connected Naramata with Summerland and Penticton, and in 1914 the Kettle Valley Railway was completed above the town.

Agriculture and tourism now form the basis of Naramata's economy, and as we followed the trail above the town we could see orchards and vineyards stretched out in a patchwork below us.  Naramata has become one of the top wine-producing regions in Canada, with some of the wines achieving international acclaim.  Large homes and mansions were scattered over the hillside, perched on the very sandy, precarious looking slope in order to enjoy the spectacular mountain and lake views over the Okanagan Valley.

By the time we'd passed Naramata we were finally approaching the valley bottom, and the sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon.  We came to a large bank of signs welcoming us to Penticton and the historically important Okanagan Valley.  Looking around, it was easy to see that the landscape had changed drastically from the one we'd left behind at Chute Lake this morning.

The trail bed and surrounding ground were covered in clay silt soil, remnants from when Penticton Lake covered the valley floor.  Ponderosa pines and Douglas fir forests covered the surrounding slopes, and remnants of native dry grasslands and sagebrush steppes bordered the trail.  On either side, dry, hard cliffs and scree slopes rode up, covered in cavities and rounded holes that were home to a unique collection of species.  The strong smell of sage filled the air as we brushed the trailside shrubs.

Soon we passed the Hillside State Winery, a large white-roofed building nestled in among its vineyard.  Large tanks were lined up outside the building, presumably filled with fermenting wine, and a pickup truck pulled two wagons that were piled high with plump,  newly harvested, dark purple grapes.  The parking lot to the winery was full, giving the place a festive air. 

We continued on through the gathering dusk, walking between vineyards under a sky filled with soft pinks and yellows.  The faint smell of fermentation was replaced with the strong, sweet smell of apples.  The crisp, shiny, red and yellow fruit weighed down the branches on the dense green trees in the orchards on either side of the trail.  A little farther along the orchards were replaced with vineyards once again, the bunches of tightly packed green and purple grapes hanging in straight lines along the bottom of the vines.

Just after we passed the Abandoned Rail Brewing Co, which was an appealing looking wooden building with a lovely patio outside, we came across a small field that was filled with a flock of California Quail.  It turns out these colourful and elegant birds are extremely common in this part of British Columbia, but we still enjoy seeing them.  The people sitting on the patio at the brewery, enjoying the warm evening light, seemed very curious about us as we stopped to photograph and watch the quails.

We continued through the vineyards and orchards as the light was fading.  Soon we crossed the McCulloch trestle that spanned Randolph Creek.  Unlike the original heavy timber trestles, this newer bridge was built in 2001 from glued-laminate Douglas fir using state-of-the-art technology.  The Wine Country Walkways Society raised $300,000 in donations to cover the cost of its construction. It had a different feel than the train trestles, but it was evidently a very popular spot for locals to go for their evening exercise.

Just past the trestle we came to the Lakeview Cemetery, where Andrew McCulloch was buried.  This railway giant of the CPR died in December 1945 and was buried within sight of the railway he was so instrumental in creating.

Finally the trail brought us to the edge of a subdivision at the outskirts of Penticton.  We followed the sidewalks and paved cycling trails through the town, arriving at the HI Penticton Hostel just as it got dark.  Located outside the door was a directional sign post that listed distances to various locations around the world.  Apparently Australia is 12,723 km from Penticton.  We've walked almost all the way to Australia without leaving our own country.  Tonight we can feel the vastness of this beautiful and highly diverse country.

See you on the trail!

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