We had a plan.
After four weeks of gruelling work and work travel, Saturday was meant to be restful and low key. Hit the farmer’s market at 9:00 AM for my favourite flower and food fix, head up to Ryder Lake to check out an open house and then back home to chill. Feet up.
Ryder Lake ( www.ryderlake.info ) is a gorgeous little farming community outside of Chilliwack. It is tucked in and surrounded by three mountains. The views are wondrous. The roads into and through the Ryder Lake community are twisty and every time you round a bend you are stunned by yet another rolling hill pasture astonishingly prettier than the last.
The house we went to see was built on nine acres but almost all the land was mountainside. Not suitable for what we want to do and grow. I don’t have another good ten years left in me to build terraces.
The last time we visited this community it felt hushed. Like a secret rural oasis. That is what attracted us to it. But that day there was much more traffic and activity. Unhurried but much more. About 30 cars were parked around the lawn of Ryder Lake Hall. And there was a sign. “Ryder Lake Ramble”.
Well, what a happy coincidence. So much for the plan.
We learned that the Ryder Lake Ramble started in 1998. It’s a self-guided tour of farms and gardens. Nine properties were featured this year. Because we were a little late to the party, we chose three to visit. And there was nothing the same about any of them. Or their hosts, for that matter, except their staunch community pride and genuine neighbourliness. I mean, when you live in a mountain hamlet with no city water or sewage, no cable, and spotty internet and cell coverage you gotta stick together, right?
The first place we visited was a home surrounded by a west coast version of an English garden built on a rock promontory. You could see almost all of the Ryder Lake valley. The host was carrying on the work of the previous owners of 30 years meticulously tending the flower beds and trees. No easy task, though. They had to supplement the water from the 600 foot drilled well with two massive cisterns.
Second stop. A Ryder Lake permaculture farm. A 180 from the first. It appeared to be a ramshackle tangle of wisteria, raspberry canes, tomato and pepper plants, kiwi and honeysuckle with no order or structure except for the arbours nearly completely obliterated by happy vines. Everywhere you looked and stepped was a botanical surprise.
The last was a 10 acre piece of land trying to be a farm. A young family was developing it claiming acre by acre from the hillside forest. Chickens and bees. And pigs near the top of the property to clear plants, fertilize, root up and aerate the forest soil. The place had the look of a farm being built and managed with love and resourcefulness. Purposeful but not pretty. Raised garden beds made from old, galvanized metal sheets. Enclosures made with twine and sticks. One of the kids at this farm walked around with a chicken under her arm. Chicken seemed pretty happy.
“Oh”, I said to the kid. “You have a pet chicken.” The mom turned to me and said with a shushed voice I know well, “It appears we have thirty ‘pet’ chickens.” I laughed and said I hoped they were good layers. In the same mildly chagrined voice she said, “they are all good layers”. I’m thinking none of those chickens is going to end up in pot.
The Ryder Lake kids! They were the best part of this serendipitous adventure.
I asked the kids with the chickens if their Sunday was going to be a bit more restful after a day of non-stop visitors to their farm. The oldest girl, without missing a beat, “I WISH. It’s Father’s Day”, followed by “What are you doing for him?”, glancing around me and giving an up nod in Ron’s direction. I felt challenged. I told her I was planning a breakfast in bed. She sighed and shook her head like that was the lamest thing she had ever heard. Schooled by a twelve-year-old with a hen.
We pulled over next at a roadside bake sale run by three bright and saavy youngsters. Totally taking advantage of the boosted visitor traffic. Great set-up. Long table, well stocked with good visibility of the yummies from the street.
There was a clear division of labour.
Sales kid. Clearly in charge. Outgoing with purples hearts painted on her face. Managing and hawking the stock.
Finance kid. Sitting tall at makeshift counter under an awning. Handling the cash box. Doing the sums in her head.
Runner kid. Bouncing between the bake stand and house, keeping everything and everybody topped up.
All three took ownership of charming people out of their cars with wild gesticulating and wide smiles.
“How’s business?”, we asked. “Great!”, exclaimed the young team leader. “We’ve had to run in and make three more batches of cookies!”.
We bought a brownie and cookie and asked if they could throw in a couple napkins.
“Napkins are totally FREE!!”, said finance kid.
Then sales kid offered to put whipping cream on everything we bought. Amazing.
And that was our Ryder Lake Ramble. Whipping cream on top of an already fabulous day.
Potato update
