Mountain water is a dangerous thing. It taunts you with the promise of pure bliss and utter torture in the same moment.
Ok, so now I will return my blog posts to August because I have a few more stories that I would like to tell from that time.
All too soon our time in Kelowna had come to an end and we were back on the road that led us over the mountains and onto the Island. Just like on the way to Kelowna, we decided to stop for a hike in the mountains. I pulled off the highway at Othello Rd and we ventured down the mountain towards the Coquihalla River.
We could hear it babbling and gurgling below us and we rushed to meet it, it sounded like it was having so much fun!
When we finally arrived at its edge we stood with silly grins soaking in the beauty.
What is it about mountain water?
I imagine part of it is its purity.
I have never seen water so clear as the water that comes off a mountain. It is inconceivably clear except for that slight hint of aqua that collects to a vibrant carribbean-blue in the lakes and deeper pools.
Maybe it’s that this water has just been freed from 1000 years captivity in a glacier high above. Perhaps after some inconceivable amount of time it has finally been released to play and laugh again. The joy that emanates from these bodies of water is almost palpable. The water seems to celebrate its freedom. It bounds over the boulders and rushes past the shore and at times it thunders to the heavens as it celebrates its descent towards the sea. It seems to skip and play as it journeys forward.
Perhaps it is the surroundings. Maybe the water relishes its chance to be in this place as much as I do. The next time it falls on land it could end up as part of the Detroit River so I imagine it appreciates its time in these mountains as much as I do. How can you not.
In my previous post about Falls Lake I marvelled at the beauty of mountain water and I stated that, ” Had I been equipped with swimming attire not even the chill air could have kept me from bathing in its serenity.”
I have to confess that I have since learned that this statement is not true.
What I learned on this trip to the edge of the Coquihalla River is that it was not the lack of swimming attire that kept me from the water but actually the chill air.
This day was hot.
The sun was strong and the water beautiful and inviting. Too inviting for a water-lover like me to resist – swimwear or not.
Liquid crystal is a good name for it, for although it is liquid, it certainly cuts like a crystal as it rushes over your skin!
That water is COLD!!!!
I can only guess how little time had passed from its awakening from solid, icy sleep to the liquid joy that now hit my skin.
Regardless of the degree of suffering endured to enter the water neither my aunt nor I were deterred. We hollered as the water rushed over us and lingered in it for as long as our senses could allow. We would then scramble onto the rocks to warm ourselves in the sun. Only to throw ourselves back into the torturous bliss.
What agonizing glory to be surrounded in such purity; to be enveloped by such a joyous outpouring from the soul of the mountain!