So, we took a little jaunt to Jones Lake, BC. We camped in the wilds of BC for two nights, with no facilities. I CAMPED! I’d never really camped before, save for sleeping in a tent in a field in Northern Ireland about six years ago. It didn’t count, as there was zero chance of being eaten by a bear, and a negligible chance of being hacked to death by some crazed lunatic. This time, it was different. We camped outside of the main campground, so we were very secluded. I was scared. I woke up in the middle of the night thinking I heard bears and intruders and all the evil entities of the world hovering outside the tent. But I survived! And it was absolutely wonderful. The scenery was quite literally spectacular. I mean, look at it. LOOK AT IT!
Breathtaking, eh? I think so. I’ve had a serious hankering for lakes and trees and mountains for years, perhaps my whole life. Peter bizarrely feels the same way. Before we moved here, we always got super excited when we saw scenery like this in a film. I reckon I developed this longing from looking through photographs of my mum and dad’s BC adventures in the 70s and 80s. They lived here for nearly 10 years, and their photos always looked wonderful. I think this Joni Mitchell album cover, which figured a lot in my childhood, also fed my longing for the BC landscape:
Anyway, I digress from the real star of the show, beautiful, beautiful Lake Jones. When we woke up in the morning, this was our view:
I also brushed my teeth in the lake. Kind of. I used mineral water, but I stood by the lake. It was fun.
After breakfast, we washed the pots in the lake. We weren’t this dramatic about every pot, but it sure did make a pretty picture.
These people stopped for a little chat about fishing as they crossed each other. Red kayaking fellow also chatted to us as he paddled past. He asked us where we came from, what we did for a living, then kayaked on! Slightly awkward as we were a distance away on the shore – he was just an inquisitive, disembodied voice – but a novel experience none the less.
Peter made a fishing rod out of some tackle he found on a rock, a piece of wood and er, a noodle for bait. It was pretty lean pickin’s that night.
We got a dingy for 10 bucks called THE EXPLORER 100. My first boat! Peter floated off to the other side of the lake in it. I was pretty sure he was dead for about half an hour, he was nowhere to be seen! Imagine to fear in the eyes of the campers at the other side, seeing a half drunk Irishman in his pants on the magnificent Explorer 100.
At night, we lit a glorious fire surrounded by tea-lights. We also lit a little tea-light, put it on some wood, and floated it into the lake. It was so pretty and tranquil for about three minutes, until we freaked out that this tiny light would somehow set fire to the entire forest. Slightly over dramatic, but it seemed like a major hazard at the time. We had to throw stones at it in a frenzy until it went out.
Apart from losing Peter’s iPhone, smashing my camera screen and my little horsefly buddies, it was one of the best trips of my life. Long Live Lake Jones!
