box of Jack

So I’m back from an exhausting weekend in the Lake Okanagan area of British Columbia, Canada. I guess you could say it was a camping trip but really, we stayed in a touristy campground with toilets and showers and we didn’t do any hiking. It was more like a beach vacation but with cheaper accommodation.

Seattle to Penticton; about 6 hours drive

My hat is off to the two Canadians friends that we met up there. Their preparation was unbelievable and we did not have to worry about food at all. Everyone was well fed and we had cutlery and condiments and real breakfasts and everything. It was like a really well-organized 3-day barbecue.

Friday was spent driving. Ditched work early and still just barely got into the campsite by 10pm. Cooked meat in the dark.

Saturday was the big day. We had a big breakfast, headed out to the lake where they’d organized a speedboat rental. We got out on the gorgeous freshwater lake and drove around for a while. It’s not actually that much fun to pilot this boat because it has all the complexity of a dodge-’em car. We also strapped an tube thingy to the boat and I hopped in. 5 minutes later, I was thrown from the tube at about 15 km/h. They say I tumbled around at the surface of the water and I distinctly remember some sort of head impact.

I was underwater but I had no idea how far underwater. Thankfully my left arm felt really light so I assumed that was where the surface was and I ignored the natural instinct to swim in whatever direction my head was pointing in. Later I realized that obviously I was thrown sideways so I’d be very close to the surface and if that fall had resulted in my drowning then I’d feel really really stupid.

Later that day, despite all my laziness, I was dragged into trying a jetski for the first time. It was a tiny little thing but more than enough power timid ol’ Jack. A word of advice to those new to jetski’s: use your legs so your arms don’t act as the sole shock absorbers and so your ass doesn’t feel like it’s been tenderized by some baseball bats. Brilliant fun, though.

Sunday we did a tour at the gorgeous (but very tourist-trappy) Mission Hill Winery. I discovered that I would be willing to kill for their White Bordeaux and that ice wine is some sort of devilish lolly-drink that makes you feel sophisticated at the same time. Very nice place, I’m a little sad that I didn’t get to eat a full meal at their very snooty restaurant.

The snooty restaurant had good service and an amazing view of the lake and opposite shore

Anyway, I really didn’t take many photos. For one, these people were all strangers to me so it felt kind of weird. But mostly it was because my prized cameraphone is actually an unreliable piece of shit that suffers from the same dumb problems of its predecessor: the camera button stops working for no good reason. I will try to scam some photos off the others.