During the colonial period of European exploration of our region of the world, the British came to control what is today known as the Pacific Northwest. The Columbia District was their name given to the territory drained by the Columbia River, and in 1858, when it became a British colony, the name British Columbia given to the colony was derived from the river that had given the district its name and distinguished it from the portion of the Columbia District south of the 49th parallel, which had been under control of the United States since the Oregon Treaty of 1846. My brother John and I decided we needed to go take a look at developments in the area since 1858, and so last Saturday packed up our motorcycles and headed north.

We got a little sidetracked north of Winthrop, nosing around Forest Service roads looking for one the map said would lead us to Highway 97 just south of the Canadian border at Osoyoos. Shortly after stopping for lunch alongside the Chewuch River, we passed the memorial to the firefighters killed in 2001 in the Thirtymile Fire. That fire started as an escaped picnic cooking fire on July 10 that year, and the area continues to manifest its effects. The subsequent investigation into the deaths of the four firefighters produced a controversial report(PDF) that I recall reading about at the time and which the firefighting community continues to debate.¹

I had not been in the Okanogan Country of Canada since I was a boy, and while I knew from reading about it that it is a beautiful part of the world, was still quite taken with it as we made our way north along Okanogan Lake. The lake itself is impressive, and I say that as someone who was born and raised in the shadow of Mount Rainier, the ancestral name of which in the Lushootseed language means mother of waters. Okanogan Lake is 84 miles long, reaches a depth of 761 feet, and the road up its west side remains close enough to keep it in view for its entire length. We pitched our tents at Bear Creek Provincial Park on the bank opposite Kelowna, and after dinner down the road at Original Joe’s, called it a day.

Sunday we spent enjoying the scenery and the warm weather while roaming around the reaches of the Columbia River in southern British Columbia. Our original idea had been to haul ourselves further east to Kootenay Lake and do some sightseeing there, but by midday we had stopped in the shade of the Selkirks and decided not to spend the time that way, in part because we had previously visited that region of the province.

The SPOT was having trouble finding the satellite between Kelowna and Fauquier. We rode up the west side of Okanogan Lake until Vernon, then jumped on to Highway 6, where the SPOT picked back up at Fauquier.

The river crossing to Fauquier is accomplished via the cable‐driven Needles Ferry. The highway can be seen in the picture simply running out of pavement at the edge of the water, and I wondered how many drivers have failed to see the stop sign that is just out of the frame.

We ate lunch in New Denver beneath the trees on the shore of Slocan Lake and continued leaning the bikes in the direction of the United States and home. By the end of the day, we had our tents pitched in a familiar spot at Curlew Lake. Dinner at Pine Grove Junction Café brought it to a close.

The remainder of the trip home Monday was once again under sunny skies. The rear tire on my bike had passed its use‐by date, and I spent those last few hundred miles fretting about it, but they passed uneventfully. Inasmuch as the tire was an any‐port‐in‐a‐storm solution to a problem I had in North Mankato, Minnesota, I was happy not to complain too terribly much about the use I did get from it. As to our purpose of investigating what the Canadians have been doing with that part of the world since 1858, I think we may conclude that the place lives up to its motto: Splendor sine occasu.