…of fame? Goodness, no – the very thought makes me shudder.
No, fifteen minutes is about the amount of sunshine we’ve seen here in the last few weeks. Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but not by much!
We went for a wander on New Year’s Day, somewhat surprised, and pleasantly so, that the rain had stopped for the afternoon. Well, for an hour or two. We threw on raincoats and Wellington boots, and took a turn about Ucluelet.
By the time this is posted, the rain will have returned – as much as another 200mm since Wednesday, so we will be looking back at this brief walk and remembering our fifteen minutes!
A speedy piece this week, but not as speedy as our dashing out and about through the showers will be the next few days, weeks and months, if the forecast is to be believed! Indoor time, beer and books it is.
…to a new year, and a new decade – goodness, the century is racing by, isn’t it? Doesn’t seem like 20 years have passed – a quick glance back, and remember when reading and writing about Y2K fears and predictions of gloom was all the rage? Well, the internet didn’t crash, stoplights kept working, and wasn’t the internet called the World Wide Web? A time before Twitter. How old fashioned and lovely…
I thought this post was looking ahead, not back, OldPlaidCamper?
You’re quite right. Looking ahead, I think people will remember to be kind and compassionate, seek to embrace and value difference, and wear plaid at least once a week because it never goes out of fashion.
Also, 2020 will be the year the Ucluelet Brewing Company brewers throw open their doors, if only to stop me pressing my nose up against the window almost daily. Nearly twenty months later than first promised, the next opening day is slated for January 31st – here’s hoping it happens, and the beer is good!
I hope your coming year is full of outdoor time and adventures in nature – be it hiking, skiing, paddling, fishing, photography or camping, either alone or with friends and family. And of course, your outdoor day should finish with a glass of something good when you get back indoors or back to the campfire.
Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend and a wonderful start to the new year and decade. Looking forward to 2020!
Day and night, morning and evening, good and bad, lager and stout.
I could almost leave it there (I know, but I won’t!) as this about describes our trip to Victoria last weekend.
If you’re going to spend some time in a city, then Victoria is a pretty good one. Much is made of the relatively warm and dry climate, and we were lucky enough to have a mostly dry weekend. Not sunny, but dry. Other Victoria plus points? Waterside location, distant mountains, not too big, a mostly walkable downtown, many coffee shops and microbreweries, and the rather lovely Royal BC Museum.
We stayed at Spinnakers over in Esquimault because it is only a short waterside walk from the downtown. At night, the lights reflecting on the water was a sparkly sight, and by day there’s always a floatplane taking off or landing, as well as various marine craft large and small. Spinnakers claims to be the oldest craft brewery in Canada, producing decent beer since 1984. I believe Mrs PC suggested we stay there, and after much protest, I agreed.
The beer menu is quite substantial, although once I’d ruled out sours and ciders, it all became manageable. Mrs PC enjoyed their Pilsner, I preferred the Original Pale Ale. And the Scottish ale. And the PNW ale. And the imperial stout. And the nut brown. Anyway, enough about breakfast.
Should you find yourself in Victoria, can I recommend the First Peoples gallery at the museum? Excellent displays depicting life pre and post European contact, with thoughtful and thought-provoking exhibits. Many items included original language as well as English explanations, and it was a joy to hear the language out loud. I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but the connection to – and respect for – land and sea came over as common sense time and again. We’ve lost so much, yet could still look back to find a model to help us move forward, environmentally speaking. Oh, and while we’re using common sense, let’s include total respect for ancestors and elders. Who’d have thought?
Enough of the preaching, because you’re probably desperate to know which beer was my favourite? Being a decisive sort, and after much consideration, I think it was the Original Pale Ale. No, the PNW ale. No, the stout, or was it the nut brown? The Scottish? My memory is failing me here, so I’ll have to go back for another visit, put in some proper research time. I think Mrs PC will insist on staying there again. Oh well…
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
I have to say, we are very happy to fall back for a little while! It means we have an early morning walk during the week where we will see a few more sunrises.
Yes, we’re on dawn patrol, and it’s been chilly enough to warrant a toque, and it’s a sure sign of shorter days and longer nights when a baseball cap just doesn’t cut it early in the day. I do don the cap in time for work though. I didn’t wear one the other day, and a student nearly fell off his chair, amazed that the little amount of hair on display was a touch grey.
“Oh, you’re quite old!”
I wasn’t too sure what this meant. Surprise? Disappointment? Disbelief? I wore a baseball cap the next day, as clearly the youth are convinced I’m young and vital, and the grey hair(s) remains hidden.
Speaking of youth, we had a fine evening earlier this week, when the older warriors taught the new young warriors some archery skills. Seeing the youth teach the children, and the young ones looking up to their older brothers and sisters with respect and a touch of awe was wonderful to see. Us really old youth – each mentor just happened to be wearing a baseball cap – had relatively little to do except take our turn and deliver arrows with unerring accuracy. I was deliberately aiming left, and anyway it was getting dark. And some of us young’uns don’t see so well as we used to.
Getting back to the dawn patrol, I’ll end by saying I can declare Tofino Brewing Dawn Patrol Coffee Porter worthy of five eagles and a salmon. Yes, it’s that good! I thought it would be, but since Wayne suggested the beer rating system I’ve had to wait for this particular beer to reappear on shelves, and it is as good as I remembered. If you like a porter, then this is very highly recommended. A fall/winter fireside sipper.
Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!
PS Apologies for the “Leave a reply” section not working last week. No idea why it didn’t appear, and here’s hoping there are no glitches this week…
A big thank you to Wayne over at Welcome To Tofino Photography for the post title and theme this week. I thought it’s time for a more frivolous than usual piece, particularly as the entire news cycle of late appears devoid of any frivolity – rightly so, but still…
A little while back, Wayne suggested I rate the beers I occasionally (!) mention or include. His idea was to use a rating scale going from one eagle (poor) to five eagles in flight with a fresh salmon (excellent) – I’m not sure if each of the five eagles has to have a salmon, or if it is one salmon underneath a five eagle fly by?
In case you’re concerned about the state of my liver, you needn’t be. Although there are quite a number of beer photos posted on here, the reality is I rarely drink more than a bottle or two each week. Honest! Unlike in my youth, I aim for quality over quantity when it comes to a beer. If I have a second, it’s a racing certainty I’ll be asleep not long after.
I’ll indulge in a little autobeerography here. The most (I can remember) I’ve ever consumed in a single sitting was over a long evening in Dublin, drinking Guinness with my brother. Did I exceed my usual two beers? Yup! In our defence, and according to the old school advertising, Guinness is good for you. I mean, it’s practically a foodstuff isn’t it? More of a meal than a drink. Actually, I was the one drinking Guinness that evening, and my brother was drinking anything but. He doesn’t like Guinness?! I know! Impossible. Bar tenders up and down Grafton Street were bemused… I can confirm his hangover was much much worse than mine. That’s because Guinness is good for you.
Getting back to Wayne’s ratings, I’d have to say a properly poured pint of Guinness in Dublin – they are built rather than poured – would be close to five eagles and a salmon. Which is as much about the location and the company as it is about the beer. And that’s sometimes the thing about a decent pint – who you’re with and where you are can matter as much as what’s in the glass.
Now, having written that about company and location, nothing but nothing can save Slalom Lager. A different brother and I tried to drink a pint or two of said beverage in a lovely pub somewhere in North Wales a fair few years back. We really really tried our best, but no number of pints could fix that slimy taste. One eagle would be an eagle too far. I’ve hardly had a pint of any lager since.
Enough of this frivolity. I’ll leave it here this week, with a photograph and recommendation for the following beer: (I’d give it five eagles for sure, but does it get the salmon as well? I don’t know. Maybe some follow up research is needed?)
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Let’s try a different song. Words, but not music, by an OldPlaidCamper.
I’ve been crossstown, downtown, and uptown onto the heights here in the city the last week or two.
It’s a different soundscape and landscape to what we’ve grown used to out on the coast. The sirens! Not the sort trying to lure me onto rocks with their enchanting song. Nope, these are the blaring city sirens, and it isn’t a tune I much enjoy. Previously, I wouldn’t have taken much notice of the noise, sirens being a part of the sonic background along with clanking transit trains, bottles being tipped into dumpsters, and the buzz from cars on Memorial a couple of blocks away. I sure have noticed the noises for this stay in the city, and it’s caused me to wear headphones and listen to music when enjoying my morning coffee on our little balcony.
I think I’m ready for a return to Ucluelet! By the time this is published, I should have arrived back on the west coast, and I’ll be complaining about all the quiet keeping me awake…
Back in Calgary, one favourite place for good coffee is in an Italian market near Crescent Heights. Oh my strange little brain. Being in the heights had me warbling Wuthering Heights – probably my favourite Kate Bush tune. Don’t worry, the warbling was in my head. And I didn’t try the dancing. But I did play the tune quite a bit back on the Calgary deck. Once I’m reminded of a song, I’ll play it to death until my butterfly mind alights on another.
I was heading across town the other morning, striding along purposefully, and waiting my turn at the crosswalks. The tune in my head? Crosstown Trafficas performed by Jimi Hendrix. Pretty sure he wasn’t singing about walking in traffic, but my mind goes where my mind goes. Yup, onto the morning coffee playlist it went. Bye bye, Kate.
It can be challenging being in the city, as a whiny post I wrote a couple of weeks ago suggested. All those obstacles. Yes, there’s a song for that (in PlaidCamper world) and this one was Obstacle 1 by Interpol. I love their first album, Turn on the Bright Lights, mostly because it sounds like so many other performers I like – Talking Heads, The Smiths, New Order, and various other gloomy-sounding-but-really-quite-jolly musicians.
I think it’s time to turn the sound down. Thanks for reading, and I wish you a wonderful and quiet weekend, hopefully listening to whatever is the best soundtrack for you!
When I think about it, maybe theft isn’t quite the right word. I otter know, because I was a witness to the alleged crime. With that said, if gang related incidents cause you distress, it’s best you stop reading.
Not so long ago, we were sat up on the sun deck at The Eagle’s Nest, enjoying the view across the bay, and enjoying a glass of Tofino Blonde. I think our reason for an early afternoon beer was that it was sunny and early afternoon. We’d been out for a wander around the harbours, had sat and observed a bear foraging along the far shore, and perhaps thought we’d better sit down some more somewhere else.
Anyway, from the deck you can observe the small craft coming and going, keep an eye on the bald eagles flying to and fro, and witness the total bird commotion caused when a fishing boat, large or small, passes by with a catch. There’s a small processing station just in front of the pub, and it was here the crime took place.
A fisherman was taking care of his haul, and it looked like he’d had a pretty good day, with several fish in a cooler by his feet as well as the one he was dealing with on the table. Gulls were taking a keen interest in his work, and perhaps they distracted the poor chap. While he was looking over at the gulls, a river otter popped up onto the dock, enticed by the catch in the cooler. Bold as you like, the otter grasped a large fish in its jaws and pulled it across the deck towards the water. The fisherman caught sight of the movement at his feet, and hesitated, one hand on the fish at the table, and the other holding his filleting knife. This hesitation – was he concerned the gulls would pounce as he dealt with the otter? – proved costly, and when he took a step towards the otter, it was too late. Splash! A few ripples and then nothing. The fisherman smiled and shrugged, put a lid on the cooler, and went back to filleting his catch. He did stop every now and then to take a look over his shoulder.
I don’t know much about gang life, I’ve heard of the Bloods and the Crips, and seen motorcycle gangs out on the highways, but the Ucluelet River Otters are a whole different kind of notorious, particularly around the docks of Ucluelet. You keep your bait and tackle box closed when these fellows are about, and maybe don’t go down the gangways by yourself.
As we finished our drinks, we saw the otter come back up onto a different floating dock behind the filleting station. Was he going to have another go?! Then another otter popped up, and another, and another. The whole gang was there! They scurried towards the cooler and then back, testing to see if the fisherman had noticed them. Oh, he was wise to their ways, and quickly completed his tasks and made off home, one fish lighter than he’d hoped for. The Ucluelet River Otter Gang loitered for a few more minutes, looking tough and territorial, before slipping back into the water. They were probably cruising round to check out the Inner Harbour…
We sympathized a little with the fisherman, but mostly we were rooting for and applauding the opportunism and silky skills of the otter. If we’re called to testify, we’ll say we saw nothing. I’m not messing with the River Otter Gang.