About Monkey Valley – Page 3 – Karen's New York Love Affair

Cougars: pistol-packing mama!

Prior to moving to Monkey Valley I had little exposure to guns. My dad taught me and my sister Kim to shoot a rifle one summer at the family cabin on Knouff Lake. It was fun, shooting at cans on a log. Learning to watch for the kick. But since then I’d never used a gun, and probably never even seen one.

I believed people when they said I needed a gun at Monkey Valley. Being there all alone, and especially when out running by myself, it seemed I needed a gun for protection. So my mom lent me a rifle, and I enrolled in a course to learn how to handle guns safely. This course also was a prerequisite for obtaining a PAL license, which is required by anyone who owns, buys, or possesses a gun. I got the license, and I practiced shooting the rifle at a target that I nailed to a tree by the woodpile at Monkey Valley. This was kind of fun. I practiced cleaning and oiling it. I kept it hidden in my bedroom closet, easily accessible if anyone broke into the house during the night. I went over in my mind the steps involved in getting and loading the gun in the dark. It seemed that having the gun there made me more afraid of intruders, not less!

I went to a gun store on Renfrew Street in Vancouver to look at guns and get prices. I went to the outdoor sporting goods store in Merritt (the Powderkeg, now out of business due to Walmart and Canadian Tire big box stores being invited to take over from the local businesses), to see if prices were cheaper. I found out about the local shooting club in Merritt. My final piece of research was to go shooting at a range out in Chilliwack with my course instructor. This was a chance to try different types of guns and see how they felt. I had been leaning towards a pistol of some kind, which I would be able to wear in a holster while running. I found that running with the rifle was a little cumbersome!

I was excited about going to a real range to practice. In the class we never shot a loaded gun. I’d driven past the Pacific Shooter’s range many times on my way to go trail running by the Seymour River. My instructor lived in Langley though, so I drove out there and we drove to the range in Chilliwack. The day we went to the shooting range was overcast and chilly—a dreary winter day. No one else was at the range. My instructor showed me the protocols, like where to put our stuff, how to put up the targets, and what flag to raise to indicate the range was active. Then he showed me how to turn and shoot. He reinforced some of the principles I’d learned in class, about holding the gun and positioning my body. I tried shooting with his pistol. It was very black (energetically black, though actually a steely colour of metal), very heavy, very loud. And very powerful. I could see how using a gun makes someone feel powerful.

And I knew after trying it a few times that I could never shoot this gun at a cougar or any other wild animal. I felt that I would prefer to be killed than to inflict this shocking violence on a living creature. So that was the end of the gun episode. I returned the rifle to my mom. I resumed running with a hatchet. And I still kept imagining the cougar attacking me while I was running… (to be continued)

Cougars: a man, a truck, a dog, and a gun

When I told people I was moving to Monkey Valley, they inevitably thought I needed a man, a truck, a dog, and a gun. In fact, when I first bought the place, I had the man, Hugh McMillan, and we were getting along pretty good. I bought a pickup truck—a beige Ford Ranger that needed some work but was priced well below market value. And my mom gave me a beautiful Siberian husky-malamute cross puppy, with white and grey fur and startling blue eyes, and the cutest curly tail, whom I named Shaula, after the star in the tail of the constellation Scorpio.

But I was still living in the lower mainland, and I found that having a puppy, training her, walking her twice a day, and cleaning up her poop, was not for me. Maybe having a dog in the country would be great, but I wasn’t ready to move yet—in fact, it took Hugh and me two years to install the solar power, pump, and hot water heater. Plus that’s how long it took for two-way satellite internet to be available in Canada—an important component for me in being able to work from Monkey Valley. Shaula and I parted ways long before then. First I took her to the SPCA, but felt so sad at abandoning her, I cried buckets and went to retrieve her. A few weeks later, at the end of my rope again, I sent her by airplane to Williams Lake, where my mom retrieved her and eventually passed her on to a tree planter from Ontario. As far as I know, she lives there now, happily I hope.

Just as having a dog wasn’t for me, the truck didn’t work out that great either. The first winter Hugh and I went up there after snow fall, we found that with only six inches of snow the truck got bogged down, fishtailed around, and refused to go very far up the unplowed logging road. And in the city, driving a stick-shift in stop-and-go traffic drove me nuts. Not to mention trying to park it! I still have nightmares about a certain parking garage on Granville Island! So the truck had to go. I bought a four-wheel drive Geo Tracker instead. Hugh said it was a chick car. But it handled way better in the snow than the pickup, was easy to park, and great on gas.

And, sadly, to my regret and many subsequent wonderings if I made the right decision, when it came time to move to Monkey Valley in 2002, Hugh and I had a parting of the ways. So, long story short, I moved to the wilderness with no man, no truck, and no dog. All that was left was the gun… (to be continued)

Cougars: fears in the dusk

When I first moved to Monkey Valley, my biggest fears were attack by cougars, bears, and humans. I’ve already documented some of the encounters with humans. Pretty innocuous, and nothing like my late-night imaginings of a Charles Manson-like gang bent on my murder.

So it is with cougars. Due to my enjoyment of running in the wilderness, fear of cougar attack has seemed to be the biggest danger I would realistically face at Monkey Valley. Especially since I usually run at dusk, which is when I imagine the cougar is most active! I remember hearing a few years ago (or was it six years ago now?) that a jogger was attacked on Vancouver Island. The writer of the news story made a joke about joggers persisting in wearing lycra leggings and behaving like deer, as if we are practically begging cougars to attack!

Soon after moving to Monkey Valley, I was driving along a logging road about 10 KM from my home when I was graced with the very rare sight of a cougar in the distance. It crossed the road in front of me, several hundred yards ahead, and leaped up an embankment and disappeared into the woods.

Its grace and power was amazing to behold. It sprang up a bank that was eight feet high or more, compressing its haunches and making the leap in a single bound. It was a beautiful tawny burnished goldy-red colour. Gigantic! I would guess at least six feet long. So incredibly, obviously powerful and alive. The encounter was such a brief flash, but its memory has stayed with me all these years. My impression was that there was no way I was a physical match for this creature that was bigger, stronger, faster, and way wilder than me!

Previously I had imagined the cougar as little bigger than a coyote, and nothing to really be afraid of. But now that I’d seen with my own eyes its size and physical power, I knew that it could kill me with ease, if it chose to. I’ve spent a lot of time contemplating the size of the deer, the cougar’s favourite prey, versus the size of me. Only a few pounds difference, most likely. And the deer run a lot faster than I do!

One of the ways to deal with fear is to find out the truth. I did some research on cougars, reading up on them in Mammals of British Columbia, and learned that their territory can be as big as 100 square miles. I hoped that this meant the chance of my being in the exact spot as the cougar at the same time was very slight. But this didn’t really help assuage my fear. And one spring, Bob Ross of Merritt’s Tri-Ross Construction, who with his son Brent has done a lot of construction work for me at Monkey Valley, found cougar tracks in the mud by the barn. I examined their large size, and was struck with fear again. Clearly I was living in the cougar’s territory. There was no denying the potential for an encounter… (to be continued)

Holy cow, a visiting vole!

The other night I was wakened from a peaceful sleep by a crinkling sound. It’s not the first time this has ever happened, but it’s been a while. I replayed the sound in my head, and figured it wasn’t a human intruder—the sound was too small. It could be a pack rat, I thought, remembering that there is an unwanted pack rat living under the house at the moment. It might have come in the cat door…

But the sound seemed even smaller than that. Maybe it’s a little mouse that found its way in through a tiny hole, I thought. Donald was on the bed beside me, also listening. But he didn’t seem inclined to get up and go investigate. I decided I didn’t want to either, and hoped that maybe Donald would go catch it later. Then I promptly fell back asleep.

The next morning I went to investigate the little package of poisoned bait that I keep behind a bin in the loft. That seemed to be where the sound was coming from. There were a few loose kibbles around the package. Sweeping the floor downstairs I found some more clues: a kibble on the living room floor, and a few tiny droppings near the bait behind the stereo. Hmm…

Then I heard Donald playing in the bathroom. That can only mean one thing. He has found a playmate. Sometimes he finds them outside and brings them into the bathroom to play with. Other times, as in this case (I do believe) he found one inside the house. The downstairs bathroom is black, because all the bathrooms and showers in the house are painted the colours of the medicine wheel: red shower, yellow shower, black bathroom, white bathroom. Donald likes the black bathroom as the place to play with his prey. And there he was, grabbing something in his mouth and flopping it around and letting it drop. He did that a few times, but the poor creature seemed dead, so I left him to it.

When I went back later to investigage, I found the corpse of a tiny little vole in the bathroom. Thinking I was being somewhat morbid, I brought Mammals of British Columbia into the bathroom and made an identification—definitely a vole, with its tiny size and short tail, and the shape of its nose. But what kind of vole? I went to get my tape measure, and measured the tiny creature. It was about 11.5 cm long, including a tail about 2.5 cm long. It looked like a lot of the voles in the book, brown with lighter underside, but the only vole whose size can be under 12 cm in length is the Western Heather Vole. I learned it feeds on green vegetation, grasses, lichens, berries, seeds, and fungi. Lots of those things around here. And it likes the inner bark of various shrubs from the heather family.

That led, of course, to a consultation with Plants of Southern Interior British Columbia. Is there really heather around here? I learned that there are two kinds, white mountain-heather and pink mountain-heather. They are tiny shrubs, only 30 cm and 10-40 cm tall, respectively. They have blue-bell shaped flowers, and the pink ones do look familiar to me. But I am not certain if I’ve seen them. Clark, quoted in the guide, wrote “These cheerful bells ring an invitation to high places above the timber line, to those serene and lofty slopes where peace and quiet enter our souls.”

And so the cycle is complete, from crinkling in the night to peace and quiet entering our souls. I took the dear little vole and put her body under a young fir tree that grows near the house, and wished that her spirit may be at peace.

If you are interested in reading about other visitors to Monkey Valley, see these posts:

Why Amazon?

You might have noticed that when I refer to a book in my blog I usually include a link to the book on Amazon.ca or Amazon.com. An exception to this is when the book is available from Lost Borders Press. I want to support Meredith Little, who operates Lost Borders Press and who with her husband, Steven Foster, co-founded The School of Lost Borders.

I do this because of the value I find in looking up books on Amazon. It’s often possible to look inside the book, get reference info, and read people’s reviews of the book. When I want to buy a book that I can’t find at my local bookstore I look to Amazon.ca first, then Chapters.Indigo.ca. I prefer to buy from a Canadian site, in Canadian funds, with Canadian shipping. But if neither of them have it, I try Amazon.com, and then online used book sellers.

If it happens that you are interested in the book I mention, the link gives you the information you will need to find the book, such as the name of the publisher and the year it was published. Whether you want to get it from the library, buy it at your local bookstore, or buy it online.

Another reason I like Amazon is they sell my book! Complete Beading for Beginners. Or if you’re American, Complete Beading for Beginners! Of course, you can also pick it up at Country Beads on West 4th Avenue in Vancouver! Or at Beadworks on Granville Island. Not that I am trying to get you to buy my book!

In general I am opposed to having advertising on this web site. I hope that the links are subtle and don’t make you feel like I’m trying to sell something to you, because I’m not. Though if you decide you want to buy my book, that’s great! 🙂

However, I do want to let you know that I participate in Amazon’s associates program, at the urging of my friend and blog consultant, John Harper. What this means is that if you happen to click on a link to Amazon from my site, and buy anything on your visit to the Amazon site, I get 4% of the sale. But don’t worry, I’m not counting on this to fund my retirement! It is fine with me if you never click any of the links in this site.

Roads, signs, and what the heck is Mercury retrograde?

What the heck is Mercury retrograde? On this blog I have been talking about the Four Directions model of noticing how humans are part of nature’s cycles. Being in rhythm with these cycles can help us flow through our lives more smoothly. It doesn’t make sense to plant a seed in the frozen ground—knowing how the cycles work tells us that the spring is the best time to plant most kinds of seeds, and this knowledge can guide us in knowing when to start new projects too.

Just as we are affected by the changing seasons, the cycles of the stars and planets can affect us too. And once every three months, the planet Mercury appears to move backwards in its orbit (retrograde) in relation to the earth. Of course it doesn’t actually turn around and move backwards, but it looks like it does, and for many of us, this period has a noticeable impact.

In astrology, the planet Mercury rules communications, travel, electronics, and equipment with moving parts. During the period of Mercury retrograde, any of these things can go awry! If a piece of equipment is about to break down, it will most likely occur during MR. Travel plans can have kinks and delays. It is a terrible time to sign contracts, because some key piece of information will be missing. It will sure enough come to light after Mercury turns direct, and make you rue the day you bought that new laptop!

Some examples from the current MR period for me: I ordered the new road sign for Starshine Way, and a month later I learned that Fun-Key hasn’t started working on the sign—they haven’t even ordered the plate to put the letters on, and can’t order it until they get enough sign orders to make a bulk purchase worthwhile. As another example, I’ve been waiting since September 12 for a quote from VSA for the snow plowing, and finally I heard from them that they can’t give me a service contract for my road. It will be third-priority, and if I can get them to do it at all I will pay an hourly rate based on the type of equipment they use. Neither of these things is a big deal, but it is a stalling of forward movement. What I wanted to resolve is still unresolved. I have to find someone else to make the sign, and some other way of getting my road plowed. (And BTW, in a previous MR period, when my laptop died, I did make the mistake of buying a new one. Great price. What I didn’t realize was that it had Windows Vista, and I would have to buy all new software to run on it!)

So what is the positive here? What is MR good for? As the “re” in retrograde hints at, it is a good time for re-doing things. Re-writing. Repairing. Rewiring. It is also a good time for researching. It is a great time for reconnecting with people from the past. Revisiting a favourite place. You might be surprised if you start paying attention to MR periods and notice how a relative or old friend pops up out of the blue during this period. Or perhaps you have a sudden interest in making contact with a friend from the past.

And what about rest? That begins with “re” too. And resting fits with the season of the West. The fall is the time when the black bear goes into her den, earthing herself for a time of hibernation and turning inwards. After the busy outward activity of the summer, it is good to take a rest! Can you give yourself the space for a retreat this October? Some time and space for yourself? Sometimes that’s the best thing to do during Mercury retrograde.

One good place for a retreat, near Merritt, is Dhamma Surabhi, the Vipassana Meditation Centre of BC. Ten days of silent meditation!

Coming home to Monkey Valley – October

I actually come home to Monkey Valley quite often. Usually, I make two trips a month to Vancouver, which means I get to come home to Monkey Valley twice a month. The previous post gives some background on why I was away so much before the September homecoming.

Originally, I began living at Monkey Valley full-time and year-round in October 2002. But having been away so much in the past two years, my psyche doesn’t know where home is—here or in Vancouver. This could be considered a question of the West, returning to the theme for October. Who am I? Where am I? Where is home? Where do I feel at home?

Is a bear at home in the woods? This time on my way home, I had a wonderful greeting from the West. As you know if you’ve been reading about the Four Directions, the West is the direction of the fall, and of earth. But you might not know that the animal for the West is the bear. Especially black bears. And that’s who greeted me just after I’d driven through the Kentucky-Alleyne campground, between the two lakes of the same name.

The type of topography found here, known as kame and kettle topography, consists of many hills and depressions, and illustrates a glaciated landscape. There are azure lakes set in grasslands, surrounded by forsts of pine and fir. The Kentucky and Alleyne lakes are an incredible greeny-blue colour. If you’re interested in some beautiful footage of this area, check out this You Tube video.

Suddenly, as I eased around a curve in the road just after the campground, there was the cutest little black bear crossing the road in front of me. I was driving very slowly because the speed limit through the campground is 20 KM/H. Donald was laying on the dashboard, and he made a startled sound when the bear appeared. We watched him cross in front of us and then amble into the woods. I grabbed my cell phone, opened the window, and got a few pix of him! (One of the things you get to enjoy on this blog is my blurry blob-like photos of wild animals!) He took his sweet time walking away from the car, moving through the trees.

The bear is very special to me, and I’ll tell you more about that another day. My heart feels glad when I get to have a glimpse of or encounter with this magnificent furry creature. May your encounters with bears be safe and gladdening too.

Coming home to Monkey Valley – September

Corner of Loon and Dillard On Wednesday, September 10, I came back to Monkey Valley. This might not seem remarkable to you, but it was a very exciting day for me.

You see, in November 2006 I went to Vancouver expecting to return to Monkey Valley in a few days. But there was a big snow storm, and VSA, the highway maintenance company, didn’t have time to plow my road because the snow just kept falling on the Coquihalla and the connector to Kelowna, and my road was not a priority. By the time they could get around to plowing my road, in late December, there had been more snow and a thaw and freeze, and it would take a caterpillar to break through the four feet of frozen snow! Estimated cost: $1,800!!

I decided to spend the winter in Vancouver, paying extra rent on my apartment there because I would be there full-time rather than part-time. Additional cost for five months: $1,500. I thought I’d rather pay the money to my friend Geoff than to VSA.

However, there were some hidden costs I didn’t realize at the time. Mail forwarding: $300. Tank full of propane, which was drained over the winter because I’d left a small propane heater running to keep the house from freezing while I was gone for “a few days”: $1,800. Cost to repair frozen plumbing, which occurred once the propane tank ran out: $500.

Oh well! I had a fun winter in Vancouver, and even enjoyed a weekend visit to Monkey Valley when my friend Marvin and I snowshoed in. This was a 7.5 KM trek from the corner of Dillard and Loon to the house but, unbelievably, a couple on a snowmobile was driving by just as we were preparing for the hike in, and they gave us a ride! So we just had to trek out.

That was in April 2007. In May I was able to drive in to Monkey Valley and pick up my camping gear. Then I was off for a summer of travel and training. I went to Boulder, Colorado for my graduation from Naropa University, and then did five vision quest retreats and trainings, and went to the Diamond Approach summer retreat, and went to a yoga teacher training in Mexico. By the fall of 2007 I was exhausted! But I also needed to look for work.

So this meant I decided to spend another winter in Vancouver. I prepared the house for winter as best I could, and said goodbye to Monkey Valley in November 2007. There were still some burst pipes the following spring, although I had done my best to drain everything! Plumbing is a big expense at Monkey Valley! Anyway, the plumbing was repaired over several trips home, with help from Nicola Valley Plumbing and Active Mechanical. Russ with Active Mechanical set up my solar hot water heating system, and he fixed that part of the system, while Nicola Plumbing repaired some leaks in the house.

But with looking for work and some more travel for training and retreats, it wasn’t until September 2008 that I actually was able to return to Monkey Valley “full-time.”

So it was a very happy day when I drove in to Merritt with my cat, Donald, and a car load of small household items that had found their way to Vancouver over the previous 22 months.

The first order of business was to cancel the mail forwarding. Once again I get to enjoy the thrill of going to the post office and checking my box for mail! Next, I went across the street to Interior Savings Insurance to pay for my annual house insurance policy. I stopped by VSA to ask for a quote on getting my road plowed this winter. I went to Fun-Key Enterprises to speak with Susanne and Tim about getting a new road sign made. Last year, my Starshine Way road sign was stolen a mere two days after my friend Eric and I had installed it! And finally, I went to Espresso Etc. to have a decaf and say hi to my friend Janet and her husband, Frenchie, to tell them the great news that I was coming home.

It Was a Happy Day!

Is that a wolf?

Cowboys, dogs, and dirtbikers: visitors to Monkey Valley

You might be noticing that all of these invaders of my privacy are men. Men who break the law and ignore the postings I have put up every 20 to 50 meters around the perimeter of the property. But one time there was a non-human male visitor, and he was so sweet!

I had some friends up for New Year’s Eve a few winters ago. One night after dinner my friend Dorrie was sitting on the porch, legs dangling into space, looking out at the night. I was inside supervising Keith and Marvin while they did the dishes. Suddenly I heard a faint warbled “Help!” I heard it again: “Help!”

I ran to the door and opened it a crack, and a very large creature was standing there looking at me. “Are you a wolf?” I asked. It was greyish, and big, but the tail was wagging a little. The soul of the animal did not feel harmful, but at the same time I didn’t know this creature, it might be a wolf, and Dorrie was scared!

I chased the animal off the porch, and Dorrie came inside. We all talked about what had happened, and looked outside, but the animal was gone. Not for long though. The next day he was back. He turned out to be a very large friendly dog.

I fed him some cat food and vegetarian scraps, which he ate. He had a very thick coat, and seemed okay with staying outside. Over the next few days I became very fond of this sweet fellow. I wondered if the universe was sending me a present for the new year, a new family member. Although I hadn’t had any intention of getting a dog, I was turning over the possibility of keeping him.

However, I also thought I’d better try to find the owner. I called both vets in Merritt, and they suggested I also contact the Humane Society in Princeton. I did, and soon I got a phone call from the dog’s human family, very happy to find their dog was still alive.

It turned out that he lived in the community at the east end of Missezula Lake. On New Year’s Eve there were a lot of fireworks, and he got scared and ran away. Somehow he found his way to my land, and came to the house. He obviously trusted people, and I learned that he was friends with all the people in his community.

Perhaps this is the lesson this beautiful soul brought into my life. That people can be trusted, and will help when we are lost and alone in the cold.

Invasion by air and land

Cowboys, dogs, and dirtbikers: visitors to Monkey Valley

Privacy is something I savor, and my need for it is probably stronger than most peoples’. No Trespassing It is amazing to me how often my privacy has been impinged upon at Monkey Valley. One time I was skinny dipping in the creek, as I described in another posting. What I didn’t mention was that as soon as I got out, buck naked except for my shoes, an airplane flew low overhead, directly above where I was standing with water dripping off me. I yelled out “Give me some fucking privacy, you assholes!” but they probably didn’t hear me.

Another time I was down at the medicine wheel, doing the sacred ceremony of walking the wheel, when I heard an engine. This is not uncommon, as there is a campground a couple miles away, as the crow flies, and campers sometimes bring their dirt bikes and explore the logging roads around Monkey Valley. But this sounded closer at hand. I looked up, and sure enough, there was someone on a dirt bike driving on the old dirt road on the other side of the creek.

I yelled “Get off my land!” but the rider didn’t hear. So I ran up the valley towards the house, big stick in hand, prepared to confront the trespasser. But I guess that once he came to the part of the road that offers a view of the house across the valley he realized he was trespassing at someone’s home, and he turned around and left. It was so strange to watch this happening while the trespasser was completely unaware of my presence.

I went to inspect the part of the fence where the biker came through. There were No Trespassing signs on either side of a new barbed wire gate that some loggers had put in after cutting the fence open for access. Note to self: Put lock on gate. I did, and to my knowledge there haven’t been any vehicular trespassers on my land since then.